19 jackparse if ur feeling it?
19.Ā āOH. YOUāRE STILL ALIVE.ā āDONāT SOUND SO DISAPPOINTED. I MIGHT THINK YOU DONāT LIKE ME.ā from this postĀ (read on ao3)
The trainer checks Kent out once heās followed his guys into the locker room after getting the first star of the game. He tries to tell him heās fine, but his words apparently donāt matter. After a quick look over, she lets him get into the showers with a warning to not be such a dumbass next time. Kent rolls his eyes, but doesnāt fuss. He knows that was an idiot move. Even though he didnāt mean to lose control and smash into the goalie, it still happened. At least all anyone got out of it were some bruises (and being threatened by a hulking Russian, but thatās neither here nor there).
Kent cleans himself up and gets his suit back on with his brain turned off. Heās ready to fall into bed and forget tonight happened. The locker room is buzzing from the win, but none of the atmosphere seeps into his tired bones. He turns his phone on and waits in his stall for the notifications to pour in.
A few texts from his sister threatening him to never pull a stunt like that again, one from his mom telling him to call and checking in that he wasnāt hurt, and one he would never have expected sent two minutes ago from Jack: āWanna meet? Talk?ā
He looks up out of habit, like someone would be looming over his shoulder waiting to catch Kent do or say something suggesting the nature of his relationship with Zimms. He knows itās dumb, but he canāt help but feel a little watched. Carly would punch his face in if he knew. Sure, Scraps and Swoops would intervene and make sure that asshole got what was coming to him, but Kentās avoided physical altercations his whole life. Verbal on the other handā¦
Kent types out a text back and sends it before he can overthink things. He packs his bag, telling the guys to have a fun time without him while he ices his pride.
Out in the hall, Jack is leaning against the wall with his bag at his feet. His hair is swept slightly to the side and damp while his button-up accentuates all the right muscles, suit jacket slung over one of his shoulders. He looks like a goddamn model. No surprise there; he is his motherās son, after all.
āOh. Youāre still alive,ā Jack says in greeting, pushing himself off the wall, but not moving to meet Kent.
Kent shakes his head and steps over to him. āDonāt sound so disappointed. I might think you donāt like me.ā
He jumps slightly when Jack lifts his arms and feels like a complete dumbass for it when Jack pulls him into a hug. He swallows down the knot in his throat and hugs him back, quickly tucking his head against Jackās shoulder. They could be friends. Heās sure Jack doesnāt mean anything more.
āI think we both know I more than like you, Kenny,ā Jack says in a whisper so quiet it wouldnāt be audible if he werenāt saying it directly into Kentās ear.
