Hello, this is international BRIIZE. Taking into account today's decision about Seunghan's departure from RIIZE, decision which we do not agree with, we have decided to stop any support from our part because we have realized that our opinion is not relevant to this entertainment company. We hope RIIZE has good luck with the support of the Asian fandom only, whose opinions were the only ones taken into account regarding the issue about Seunghan's future.
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
one afternoon, jake finds himself needing to get his knee wrapped after practice. after meeting you, he finds himself needing more tape. or— five times jake makes excuses to keep seeing you after his practices, and one time he doesn’t need to.
pairings — soccer player!jake sim x student trainer!reader
tags — no use of y/n, afab character [depictions of appearance], college au, 5+1 fic, golden boy!jake if you blink, ramyeonz are best friends/teammates, mentions of: enha!friend group, technical soccer terms sorry i can’t help it i played for 16 years, jake being a bit of a loser, brief anxiety, hurt comfort but just barely, whimsy and fluff
now playing — nonsense - sabrina carpenter ; supernatural - ariana grande ; ladygirl - malcolm todd ; moonstruck - enhypen ; like a star - corinna bailey rae ; your eyes only - enhypen ; end up here - 5 seconds of summer ; satellite - harry styles ; comedown - luke hemmings ; i like me better - lauv ; slut! - taylor swift
word count — 8.4k
sawyer’s corner — my first enha fic!!!! welcome back sawyer to tumblr!!!! i wrote this before march 10 so i hope this makes someone’s day <3 shout out el for letting me constantly ramble about sim jaeyun
one. —
In all of his collegiate soccer career, Jake Sim had only seriously gone to the trainer a total of five times. Those five times were for minor reasons, like taping an ankle or making sure his calf was properly stretched so it wouldn’t cramp mid game again. Sure, he was a frequent goer for ice baths or cupping, but Jake had never been hurt enough to need to go for more than that. It was a miracle, really, considering the amount of minutes he trained on and off the pitch, that he had never been seriously hurt, but Jake had always considered himself a lucky man.
It was a Thursday evening that Jake felt his familiar luck strike once again. He had just returned from an away game at a university an hour away, one that the team had been looking forward to playing for some time ever since the season’s schedule was announced. Securing the win meant they remained first in the league and moved closer to regionals, and as both captain and starting center midfielder, the two things were important to the boy. A grin plastered over his face as Jake scored within the first fifteen minutes, and then again as his best friend, Heeseung, scored after him ten minutes after that. There was no reason not to smile when there wasn’t a single ball that got past his team’s defensive line, and his team had more morale than Jake had seen in weeks. The only time that cheeky grin faltered was when an opposing defender had overstepped and promptly kicked Jake in the knee during a slide tackle. Whether it was accidental or not, Jake would never find out, and though it didn’t seem to hurt him in the slightest, the purple and blue marks already emerging on the muscle on his skin had him sent to the trainer with a stern look from his coach and a shove from Heeseung.
The crisp chill in the January air was a stark contrast to the warm buzz Jake was feeling as he walked through campus. The trainer’s office was halfway across the university, but it didn’t seem to faze the boy one bit the way his head bobbed to the music softly playing in his headphones, his hands stuffed in his puffer jacket to keep away from the cold. Jake was seemingly oblivious to the heads turning or eyes fixating on him as he treaded onwards in his worn down Gazelles. He could’ve been used to it—all the attention. Sunghoon always teased Jake about how people stared wherever he walked, like he was some soccer god. But then again, Sunghoon was nicknamed the ice prince of college with his outwardly figure skating skills, so he shut up before Jake could say anything in rebuttal. The truth was, Jake was aware that he was known, mostly because he agreed to do an interview with the university’s newspaper that left him with blushing red cheeks after all of the compliments they had thrown around during the duration of the hour-long conversation. He just didn’t see everyone staring, too busy in his own head thinking about his next training or the new calculus assignment he had to finish. So, onward he went to the portable building next to the soccer field that the university had come up with while they were doing repairs, unbeknownst to the eyes on his frame. Jake didn’t mind. The sports medicine department made it homey, anyway.
The boy knocked a total of three times, a soft rap rap rap against the cool steel door, before stepping inside to the dimly lit room. It used to be much brighter with overhead lights, but after Heeseung had his third concussion in two months—regional season two years ago, too many soccer balls to the head—, the trainers decided it would be better off with minimal harsh lighting. Instead of the disgusting classroom lighting Jake was used to in physics labs, the heads of the department replaced it with LEDs and candles, making it feel like a second home to Jake. And in a way, it was. He knew all of the trainers, even bringing them holiday gifts and restocking tape for them whenever he felt guilty for his team using most of their supply during the season. They had taken care of him, after all. Even since the beginning, when he was a scrawny first year with a point to prove. Even now, as a fourth year with nothing left but to improve.
“Hey, we’re technically closed—” An unfamiliar voice whipped Jake out of his thoughts, causing him to stand upright and blink rapidly at the figure now approaching him. The headphones once covering his ears now hung around his neck, allowing the soft sound of Justin Bieber to echo through the room. You, who were a few inches shorter than Jake with layers of hair down to the small of your back, only squinted your eyes with an amused look. The old Beatles sweater on your skin surely told Jake that you did not listen to Bieber the way he did.
He only cleared his throat, pressing pause on the song with pink cheeks that Jake prayed didn’t show in the dim light. “Erm. Hello.” He nodded.
“Hello.” You repeated. “Did JB not let you hear me say we’re closed?”
“Closed?” Jake furrowed his brow. “You guys don’t close til—“
“Nine pm. It’s ten minutes past that now, easily.” You finished for him.
“Ah. I must’ve misplaced my time, then.” Jake responded, even though he didn’t. He never did that.
“No, you didn’t.” You replied, as if you could read his inner monologue. “Jake Sim, right?” You asked. Jake only nodded. “I figured at least one of your players might come after your game. Tough match.” You tsked and paused for a brief moment, as if you were deep in your own thoughts, before clapping your hands together. “Alright then, Sim. Sign in and I’ll take a look.”
“Really?” His head perked up, making eye contact with you.
You shrugged, meeting his eyes. “Why not? I only have to say we’re closed because I’m new. I know all the other trainers stay past.”
They do. Every single one Jake was familiar with stayed even hours past close, doing their homework and waiting for the team to show. A part of it was to write off working hours for resumés and requirements, but really, it was because the team genuinely enjoyed their job. There had been countless times Jake and Heeseung had stayed after cupping sessions just to hang out. Watch a football game that was on. Playfully argue—read: flirt— about the team’s lineups with the women’s team (Heeseung). Tutor helpless players in physics and calculus (Jake). Nonetheless, Jake shook this thought away and quickly scribbled his information down. Jake Sim. ID, sjaeyun02. Reason for visiting, bruised knee. He gave the clipboard to you, who seemed to be watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, before you scanned the messy writing. “Alright, Jake. Follow me.”
Jake followed you to one of the rooms full of beds and supply cabinets, where he usually got taped or stretched. “You can sit there.” You patted a bed in the middle. As Jake hopped the small height onto the bed, he noticed your eyes on him once again. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe even a smart remark or witty comment with his usual smirk, but you beat him to it once again. “Shit. That’s a gnarly bruise, Sim.”
The boy first tilted his head to the side in confusion before he looked down at his knee, seeing an array of dark purples and blues that hadn’t been there the last time he looked at it. “Oh.”
“Does this hurt?” You gently pressed your fingers against the skin. Jake paused for a second before he shrugged. “Oh my god. Put your pride aside, please.”
“I’m serious! I don’t know!” He began to laugh. You only shook your head in amusement, a quirk of a smile threatening to appear on your lips.
“Well, it’s definitely swollen. Kick to the knee, right?” You looked up from where you were crouched, awaiting an answer, and Jake nodded half a beat too late, staring at you. “It should be fine to play on. But if there is any circumstance it’s not—and it does start feeling like you do know that it hurts—you come see me right away. I’m serious, Sim.” You glared at him before standing up, brushing your knees off before walking to the ice machine. Jake was the one watching you now, nimble hands securing and tying the bag of ice like you had done this so many times before. A pinch in your brow as you focused. A small pout in your lip as you grabbed the tape next to the ice. A confused look in your eyes as you noticed Jake’s gaze, and an even more unreadable one as you realized he wasn’t looking away. “It was, right?” You asked, placing the bag on his knee.
Jake hissed at the abrupt feeling of cold on his skin. “What?”
“A tough match.”
“Oh. I mean, we won, so not too bad, I guess. Could’ve been worse.”
“You’re never in here, so I assumed. It’s usually your friend I see a lot. The one with the ridiculous concussion history.” You mumbled, deep in concentration as you secured the ice properly.
“Heeseung.” Jake snorted. “Yeah. They make him come in every month for head checks.”
“He visits a lot.” You began to wrap tape around Jake’s knee. “More than you.”
“He knows everybody here. Better at socializing than me.” Jake explained, eyes closing at the tightness around his knee.
“How’d you get the bruise?”
“Slide tackle. Asshole kicked me while I was on the ground.” Somewhere, past the haze of Jake’s brain and the pain of the adrenaline wearing off, Jake knew you were trying to distract him from the possible pain he was feeling. Truthfully, it did hurt, but it wasn’t your minimal conversation that was causing his brain to think about something other than the soreness he’d definitely be feeling when he woke up tomorrow morning. It was you. Jake knew it deep down, even if he didn’t know why.
“Do you always zone out this much?” You asked, tilting your head. You were standing up now, much closer than you had been the last time he looked at you. Jake only blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if it would put his brain back into place.
“Huh?”
You furrowed your brows. “Are you sure I don’t have to check you for a concussion?”
“Oh. No.” Jake shook his head again, a little faster this time, before carefully stepping down from the bed. “Probably just tired from the game.”
“This is my job, Sim. If I let you leave with a concussion—”
“—Then I will turn my ass back on my walk home and have you take a look at it.” He dawned a boyish grin, grabbing his soccer bag. “Don’t fret your pretty head. Mine is just fine.”
“You soccer players.” Jake heard you mutter as he walked toward the door. "You’re all the same.”
“Thank you for the ice!” He opened the door, shooting you one last grin.
“Don’t you dare go to lifting tomorrow!” You only replied. Jake just laughed, eyes crinkled, as the door shut.
Oh, he was fucked.
two. —
The five main symptoms of a concussion were as follows: extreme headaches, dizziness, confusion, nausea, and memory loss. It seemed as though every athlete that Jake Sim had met—including himself—had memorized those five components. Concussions were serious. Jake took them especially serious, considering his best friend had managed to be prone to getting them almost every soccer season.
Jake didn’t have a concussion. He knew that. He figured that out almost instantaneously. What he couldn’t figure out, though, was why he found himself walking back into the trainer’s room the next day.
It was busy for a Wednesday afternoon, Jake immediately noticed, as he opened the door to see athletes sitting around on the couches and in the other rooms, some he recognized, some he didn’t. A loud cheer had erupted as some of the people noticed him, and Jake eased, sporting his usual grin.
“Jakey!” That was most definitely Sunghoon in the other room getting an ice bath. He noticed Jungwon lounging in the corner with Jay and a few other friends, who had waved at him excitedly.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” Heeseung appeared in front of him, straight hair running amusk in different directions.
“Yeah. Lecture got out early. Head check again?”
His best friend nodded at him, trying to smooth out his hair. “I keep telling them I don’t need to do these anymore, but they keep saying—”
“—That you’re literally a research study for us in the kinesiology field.” You suddenly came into Jake’s vision, in all your strawberry and vanilla scented perfume and off the shoulder top glory. Jake had to mentally count to ten in order to come down to Earth at the sight of your collarbone. “Get back in the room, Heeseung.” You laid a stern look at him, who had glared back for a second, before sulking and retreating into one of the far rooms. “He gets three concussions in two months and thinks he doesn’t need to do any more treatment.”
“I thought that was two years ago.”
“He gets one every season.” You reminded him with a tilt of your head. It caused the hair to fall off your shoulder, and Jake’s brain to short circuit. “I thought soccer was all about using your feet.”
“Heeseung’s… odd.” was all that Jake’s mouth could come up with in the moment, because you started to get closer to him as other conversations around you got louder, and Jake could only do so much with the smell of your perfume, really.
“You’re telling me.” You muttered before perking up, as if you remembered something. “Is that why you’re here, then? Concussion?”
“What? No.” Jake furrowed his brow.
“Are you sure? You seem to start your sentences with questions all the time.”
“I just do that.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah? I think so.”
“There you go again.”
“I don’t have a concussion!” Jake waved his hands in surrender. “I’m just here, for, uh— the knee thing.” Jake mentally palmed his face.
This seemed to satiate you, though, only slightly. “Alright, then. I forgot about that.”
“You forgot about that?”
“Shut up, Sim.” You snapped, but there was no bite to it. “Go sign in.”
Jake only threw his hands up one more time, walking past you toward the clipboard. He tried to ignore how his arm brushed against yours. It was the usual scribble—Jake Sim, sjaeyun02, check up on bruised knee—that was normal for him. It was the feeling of you standing behind him, whether he could physically feel it or not, that was evidently not normal. He tried his best to feign a reaction as he turned around to face you.
“Alright, then.” You cleared your throat.
“Lead the way, captain.” Jake cleared his.
The outside noise and laughter began to fade away as the two of you entered the same room from the night before. Here, only a muffled buzzing from electricity and a few echoing laughs from others in the areas next door—Heeseung and Sunghoon, no doubt—could be heard. Jake was sure you could hear his gulp as he carefully climbed onto the bed, but you paid no mind.
“It might be too soon for a proper checkup, since you just bruised it yesterday.” You told him, glancing at the boy once before returning your gaze toward his bruised muscle.
“Okay.” Jake let out. He stared at the ceiling instead of looking at you.
“Tell me if it hurts.”
“Okay.” He repeated.
It was a few minutes before you began to speak again. “Why’s your ID name different from what everyone calls you?”
“Hm?”
“Your ID name. Jaeyun, right?”
“Are you paying attention to me?” Jake’s lips twitched into a half smile, especially at the sight of you glaring at him. “It’s technically my name, too. My Korean name. But everyone just calls me Jake here. Only my family really calls me that.”
“I like that name.” You murmur before standing up fully. This way, you were standing over his sitting figure. Jake only blinked at you. “Your knee will be fine. Just sore for a while. Did you go to lifting today?”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “I watched film instead.”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course you did. You’re free to go, then.”
Jake stepped down from the bed, getting deja vú almost immediately, but he didn’t move right away. He stood there for a moment longer, locking eyes with you, before willing his legs to start walking. “Goodbye, then.”
“Bye, Jake Sim.”
As Jake went to go see Heeseung, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.
three. —
“What do you know about the girl that helped me with my knee?”
It was a week later that Jake finally brought up the question that his brain had been thinking for the past few days. It was like his inner thoughts were on a set schedule—before bed: think of you, and the way your hair fell off your shoulders. Wake up in the morning: wonder if he’d see you today. Even now, as he and Heeseung were sprawled on a random picnic blanket they had pawned off on Sunoo, basking in the sun as Jake attempted to study for his exam later, he was thinking about you.
“Hm? Who?” Heeseung mumbled. His eyes were closed. He was definitely not doing his homework like he said he was going to.
“The girl that checked on my knee.” Jake repeated. “The trainer. I’ve never seen her before.”
“Oh? —?” Heeseung thought out loud. “She’s cool. I think she got hired, like a month ago or something. She’s usually the one that gives me my head checks now.”
“A transfer student then?”
Heeseung opened an eye at that, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “Why, hm? Does my Jakey have a crush that I don’t know about?”
Jake prayed that it was just the sun that was making him feel warm. Definitely not the idea of you. “No, dude.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was just asking.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Heeseung stretched. “Well, I do know that she has a break for the next hour until her next lecture, and she spends it in the trainer’s room. You know. In case you needed to get that knee checked out again.”
Jake perked up slightly. “Really? Well, in that case…”
“In that case…” Heeseung echoed, but Jake was too busy already packing his textbook into his bag. By the time his best friend had opened both eyes to look at him, Jake was already standing up, brushing off any grass from his pants. “God, you’re gone.”
“Shut up.” Jake’s cheeks turned pink. “Finish your assignment before you fall asleep.”
“Too late. My brain’s already turned off.” Heeseung replied, closing his eyes. “Jungwon’s coming to save me soon.”
“Hey, how do you know that much about her, anyway?”
“I told you. Head checks. I can’t just do those in silence, you know.”
“Ah. ‘Kay.”
“And Jakey?” Heeseung opened his eyes again. “She thinks you’re cute, too, you know.”
Heeseung’s last words gave Jake the mental courage to walk the long path in the trainer’s room, uncaring of the fact it was all the way across campus. He glanced at his watch as he saw the building in sight—at this rate, you’d have forty minutes left before you had to leave. Depending on the lecture hall you were in, he’d have twenty minutes. Thirty, if he was lucky. Jake was a logical man, after all. A logical man without a single excuse of why he was going to the trainer’s room, but that was something he was trying not to think about.
The trainer’s room was much more quiet than the last time he had been in here. There was absolutely no one in the building, save for a stray hockey player or two that had obviously just come out of a long cupping or scraping session. The silence made Jake’s heart pound a little harder, and he wondered if anyone could hear how loud his body was buzzing at the thought of seeing you.
He saw you before you saw him. You were sitting in the corner on the old sofa the trainers had saved up for last semester, hunched over a thick textbook. You were scribbling onto a notebook that was balanced on your lap, long hair framing the book so he couldn’t quite see what you were working on. You seemed to be deep in thought, not fully noticing his presence until he stood in front of you.
“I’m off the clock.” You mumbled, flipping the page of your notebook. “Available trainers are in the far left room.”
“But what if I want to specifically request you?” Jake replied, looking down at you. He watched as your head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and it took everything in him not to smile at you. “Do I have to wait for your thirty minute break to be over?”
That caused you to be the one to smile, a soft upturn of your lips etching onto your face. “No. That means you have to wait until tomorrow morning, when I have an actual shift to work.”
“No.” Jake jokingly slapped his hand to his chest as if he were hurt. “You’re telling me I have to wait a whole twenty four hours for my favorite trainer to fix me?”
“I check on your knee twice and now I’m your favorite?” Your eyebrows raised. “Low standards, Sim, I must say. Plus, it’s only nineteen hours.”
“Fixed my knee twice.” Jake corrected. “You have the magic touch, don’t you know?” At that, he found the courage to sit next to you, shuffling his bag on the floor next to yours. Despite your murmurs of protests, Jake took the textbook from your lap, looking at the pages with all of your different annotations. He noticed the way you only wrote in a light blue color, a pretty half-cursive scribble taking up the margins of the pages. “What’s this?”
“Studying. Exam in an hour. Anatomy 3010. It's why I clocked out early."
“Ah. So you should let me quiz you, then.”
You looked at him with a squint in your eyes. “You study sports medicine?”
“No, I study physics—” Jake gave you a sheepish grin. “—But Sunghoon had to take the class last semester for his kinesiology requirement and I helped him study all the time. So. Same thing.”
“That is not the same thing, Sim.”
“I basically took the class.”
“No, you did not.” You paused for a second. “But I would like the help, since you’re offering.”
There was that same boyish glint in Jake’s eyes—the one that appeared only around you. “Of course.” He maneuvered himself so he was laying on his back, his worn out Converse propped on your lap. Jake gestured for you to hand over your books, head leaning against the softened arm rest of the sofa. When you hesitated, gripping onto the already creased pages just slightly tighter, he only rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed the book. “Just let me help. C’mon, baby.”
Baby. The nickname came out of Jake’s mouth so easily that he didn’t even realize it, just flipping through the pages as if he were mentally reminding himself of the material and not of the fact that he just made your cheeks turn red and your mind spiral. You tried to concentrate again, but your eyes only focused on the way Jake’s lips murmured quiet words while he read, completely unaware of what he said. So you did what you knew best—shove down that smile that was always trying to appear around Jake, and ignore the butterflies that were swarming in your stomach. But you knew they would give away one day. Eventually.
four. —
It was raining. That should have been a bad omen of sorts for Jake.
Because not only was it just raining, but it was pouring unusually hard for April.
The game realistically should have been called off with the way the turf fields were beginning to flood ever so slightly, but even with Jake’s incessant arguing and his coach’s phone calls, the game was still set to be played at eight pm.
So Jake played that evening game even when the cold rain was sticking to his thermals and the hair on the back of his nape was starting to curl, taking control of his midfield and trying to act as if everything was normal.
And to be fair, everything was normal. He was feeding in excellent balls to his strikers. Every corner kick he did was just near perfect. He could count on three fingers how many times an opponent got through his line, and even then, the boy was sprinting to chase them down and do his signature slide tackle, turf burns be damned.
But there was one time that wasn’t normal, that Jake felt so completely out of his body that he didn’t know what to do. He had been running alongside Heeseung, the two doing a play that he knew would be clipped and added to his film highlights the second it got uploaded, when he felt something in his knee as he passed the ball back to Heeseung. A pop. A twinge. Pain. Jake could only bring himself to barely smile when Heeseung kicked the ball in the back of the net. Could only go on autopilot as Heeseung ran in front of him to do their celebratory handshake they always did when one of them scored. It wasn’t much pain, Jake supposed, but an injury now would ruin his career. And probably the rest of his life, if he spiraled too much. He knew that was probably in store for him at the end of the night.
Jake had no idea how he ended up here. His teammates had invited him out to the bars to celebrate their win, even offering to buy him drinks, but truthfully, Jake believed that he would throw up the second he attempted a sip of his usual rum and coke order, so he just politely declined. Said he was too tired. Threw in a lame promise of a next time. The guys thankfully believed him and just nodded, but Heeseung looked at him with a head tilt, but Jake only shook his head. Not now, was what Jake meant to say but couldn’t. His best friend only nodded and rubbed his shoulder slightly before walking off. We’ll talk later, was what Heeseung replied without needing words.
Here, being the trainer’s room again. The rain was pouring even harder now, and Jake had forgotten his thicker coat in his locker, too lost in his thoughts to pay attention, so he was adorning an old hoodie that probably had holes in the pockets and his soccer shorts from the game prior. His Converse were soaked through from stepping in puddles and his hair was stuck to his forehead, but he was still standing here, knocking hesitantly on the door, even though he never did that.
Ten seconds passed before Jake decided that he should leave. He didn’t even know why he was here. His knee would be fine. He’d go to film tomorrow morning, and it would be fine. He’d go to lifting in the afternoon, and it still would be fine. In fact, maybe he just imagined it. It didn’t even hurt that bad now, it just—
“Jake?” The boy heard your voice before he saw you. He didn’t know when he had turned his back and began walking back into the rain toward his dorm, but he was stuck now, standing as the harsh drops of water splattered on his head. “What the hell are you doing in the rain?”
Jake felt his shoulders slump the minute he turned around. He watched as you looked at him with eyes wide as saucers and full of concern, and he wanted to run. You shouldn’t see him like this, really. But he didn’t. And you didn’t, either. You just walked toward him, grabbing his hand that he didn’t realize was chilled to the touch, and dragged him inside the familiar room.
“I—uhm—don’t—” He tried to speak, but you only shushed him, grabbing a towel and a blanket and wrapping it around him.
“It’s okay.” You said softly in a reassuring tone he had never heard before. You must be in trainer mode. Go figure. “You don’t have to say anything right now.” You led him to the couch—the same couch the two of you had spent your afternoon just yesterday, studying for your exam with his feet perched in your lap and a smile on the both of your faces that you both desperately tried to fight off but failed. This time, there wasn’t anything of the sort. It was just the two of you. Jake, curled in on himself. You, watching the campus golden boy fight his inner demons in a way you knew deep down that no one had ever seen him do.
You only left his side for a second to one of the other rooms, pouring warm tea from the kettle into a mug before you immediately returned, passing the steaming cup into his cold hands. Jake tried to shake his head, refusing the kind gesture, but you only brought the mug up to his lips in response. “You’re going to get sick.” You said in that same soft tone.
“You don’t need to do this.” He replied.
“I know, Jaeyun.” You stared at him, but raised the mug toward his shaking lips anyway. He took a slow drink of it, meeting your gaze almost instantly. Whether it was because of the use of his Korean name or the way you paid attention to him in a way you had never done before, you didn’t know. “Just drink.”
It had been more than five minutes before you spoke again. “What happened?” You asked quietly.
Jake took a shaky inhale, pinching his eyes shut as if answering the question would cause him pain. The minute he started fidgeting with his fingers, you shifted closer to him, bringing his palm into yours. Your bodies were pressed close together at this point, the thick material of the blanket being the only barrier between your bodies, but the only thing you were focused on was him. Jaeyun, Jaeyun, Jaeyun. “My knee.” He finally managed to speak, the horror painted on his face matching the shakiness of his voice.
You tried not to look pained. “Jake.”
“I—uh, heard a pop. And then it just hurt. Everything. Yeah.” He continued, closing his eyes.
“When?” You insisted. You were a trainer, after all. “After Heeseung’s goal?”
Jake’s eyes barely crept open. “It was that noticeable?”
You only shook your head, brushing the tangled waves away from his forehead. “No. I’m just a trainer. And I know you.”
“Oh.” His eyes closed once again. “That’s good, then.”
“You played well, though. Even in the rain. Everyone was impressed.” You kept toying with his hair, going from twirling different strands in between your fingers to scratching your nails softly against his scalp. It seemed to be working—Jake’s breathing settling down to a normal pace, his fidgeting stopping altogether—and you let the silence sit between the two of you comfortably. “Do you think I can take a look at it?” You asked after some time. You waited before a weak sure came from his lips.
You knew Jake’s eyes were on you as you got up, moving swiftly in between rooms to grab the supplies you needed. It’d be better if he stayed on the couch rather than attempt to move somewhere else, even if it would be more convenient, so you instead did the moving for him. He watched with wide eyes as you quickly scribbled in the information you began to know by heart—Jake Sim, sjaeyun02, check up on knee—before walking back to the couch and bending down in front of him. The heavy pitter patter of rain was the only noise in the room as you gently prodded at Jake’s knee. You tried to be indifferent, tried to pretend like this was just another student and not the Jake Sim that quietly stole your heart throughout the weeks, tried to act as if you didn’t notice the wincing that overtook the boy’s face as you touched certain parts of the muscle. You figured you’d have a weak spot someday. You just didn’t think it’d be him.
You cleared your throat. “So.”
“So.” Jake repeated, voice shaky.
“It’s not torn.” You announced, standing up from your crouched position. The sudden news caused Jake’s eyes to shoot open, as if he didn’t expect anything good to come from this. You didn’t know the boy was such a pessimist, but you’d been learning new things from him everyday. “It doesn’t seem to be broken, either. To me, it just looks like a strain, like you’d been pushing it too hard. Today was just a warning sign.”
Jake let out a heavy exhale that you knew he’d been holding in since he arrived. “That’s good. I think.”
“But listen, Jaeyun, at the end of the day, I’m just a student trainer. I’m not technically not even a professional. You should get this checked out in case I’m wrong.” You paused. “I don’t want to be the reason—”
“—You won’t.” Jake interrupted your spiraling thoughts immediately, not letting you finish. “I’ll go get it checked out tomorrow. Promise.”
You just nodded and slumped down in the creased couch cushions next to him. It was a tiring day for both of you—Jake more than you—but it was nice to exist like this, you supposed. Sitting next to each other, listening to Jake’s slow breathing, his head on your shoulder. Just existing in a quiet moment that was once loud.
five. —
“If you don’t walk in there right now, I’m seriously going to punch you.”
Heeseung’s voice boomed in the air, even in the outdoor hallway of the school. He stood behind Jake with his hands in his gray sweatpants, eyes squinting like he could see right through his best friend.
To be fair, maybe he could. Jake had been standing at the door of the trainer’s room for at least seven minutes, if he looked at his watch on his left wrist close enough, and though Heeseung had been supportive for the first four, he supposed the boy was about ready to shove him through the corridor if Jake didn’t move soon.
“I’m going to punch you, and then you’ll have a black eye and a bad knee.” He continued.
“Hey, don’t talk about my knee like that.” Jake glanced down at his leg, where careful works of KT tape lined up and down his knee. You were right—it was just a bad strain, but even the doctor looked at him warily and described (in great detail) how it could have been so much worse. He was on day-by-day now, his coach forcing him to do physical therapy rather than worsen the muscle more. Jake was just glad he didn’t have to miss any games.
“How long has he been standing like that?” Jake heard Sunghoon’s voice behind him.
“How long is he going to stand like that?” That was Jungwon.
He knew Heeseung was shaking his head, despite the fact that he couldn’t see him. “You don’t want to know.”
“I’m going in!” Jake turned around, waving his hands as if he were surrendering.
“No, you’re not.” The three of them replied at the same time.
“Okay, fine. Just give me thirty seconds.”
“More like thirty minutes.” Sunghoon replied, a grin appearing on his face.
“Nobody asked you, Hoon.” Jake sniped. He didn’t mean it. Sunghoon only laughed.
“I don’t know what you’re so worked up about, Jakey.” Heeseung rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Actually, we know it’ll be fine, because it’s clear as day that she likes you—”
Jake only grumbled some sort of incoherent words as a response—perhaps a mixture of, “we don’t know for sure,” and, “please shut up.” The next few seconds happened as if Jake were in a movie.
Heeseung laughed at Jake’s grumbling, both out of fondness and disbelief.
Jungwon shook his head, concealing a smile.
Sunghoon, having enough of Jake’s brooding, opened the door.
Like most things in his life, Sunghoon was also unaware of Jake leaning on said door.
As a consequence of Sunghoon’s actions, Jake stumbled through the doorway and bumped into someone—
You.
You adorned a look of surprise, wrapping your hands around Jake’s shoulders to hold him steady. From here, Jake could see the faint dust of baby pink blush that was painted on your cheeks. You smelled faintly of your signature scent—strawberries and vanilla bean, Jake had come to realize the more he spent time around you—and your hair was curled into loose beach waves. You looked, well, beautiful. You never put this much time into how you looked, his brain tried to tell him, but he was short circuiting. It was easy to only pay attention to you, no matter the situation.
“Hello.” You spoke, lips twitching into an amused grin.
“Uhm.” Jake tried to speak. He mentally slapped himself.
“How’s the knee?”
“What?” Jake managed.
“Your knee, Jaeyun. The one you hurt.” You looked pointedly at his leg that was bundled in KT tape.
“Oh. Uhm. Okay, I guess.”
You nodded. “Good, then.”
“Good.”
Jake took a moment to look around and realize that there wasn't a single soul in the trainer’s room. He half expected people to be staring at the two of them and trying not to laugh, but to his surprise, it was silent. Just as quiet as it was the last time he saw you. Jake’s brain refreshed the memories of the two of you sitting on the couch, his head resting gently on your shoulder as your own rested atop of his. He was wrapped in the fuzzy blanket you had given him, but it was your presence that had kept him warm.
The boy cleared his throat, looking around at the unusual vacancy. “Where is everyone?”
“Football game. I’m sure everyone’s pre-gaming by now.” You shifted a few inches away from him, releasing your grip on his shoulders. Jake wasn’t sure why he immediately missed your touch.
“Oh.” He had completely forgotten about the game.
You nodded. “You’re going?”
“Uh—maybe. Not sure yet. Better not. Give the knee a break and all.”
“Ah. Good thinking.”
It had never been awkward between you and Jake. Even on the night that Jake had shown up past dusk, right at the time that you were going to lock up the room, to get his bruises checked out, there were never any stumbling of words or stuttering like now. Jake had never furrowed his brows or bit his lower lip raw the way he was doing at this exact moment, and you had never held back as many words as you were in the back of your throat. You hated it.
“Well, if that’s all you came here for, then.” You said it as if it were a statement. A conclusion, even. A finality to whatever had been going on between the two of you for the past couple of months. Jake only stood still watching you as you walked to grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “Heard you guys made it to the playoffs. Good luck, Jaeyun.” You said as you walked past, stopping briefly to look at him, as if you were memorizing him one last time. The feeling of everything ending made Jake snap.
“No.” He turned around, watching your hand on the door.
He eyed as you faced him slowly, expression full of confusion and something else he couldn’t quite place. Anticipation. Hope, maybe. “No? Like, you don’t want good luck, or—”
“No. That’s not it. It’s just—” Jake sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “You can’t walk out like that. Like everything’s normal. Like everything’s going to go back to normal. You can’t walk out of here and pretend like we didn’t—like you aren’t feeling the same things that I have for the past few months.”
“What are you talking about, Jaeyun?” Your voice was barely a soft whisper.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He stared at you. “You know I didn’t just come in here to get my knee checked.”
“Then what’d you come in here for?” You stared back. When Jake’s throat bobbed, you stepped closer. “Say it, Jaeyun.”
“I came in here to tell you how much I like you.” Jake didn’t blink. Didn’t even miss a beat. He never had in his entire life, and he wasn't planning on it now. “You think I just come in here to see if my knee’s okay, or to keep Heeseung company during head checks? You really think I go out of my way almost everyday just for some ice or tape?” He shook his head. He was almost pacing at this point. His accent was getting stronger with each word that spilled from his lips, the way it usually did when Jake got passionate about certain things. Physics, hard calculus equations, you. “I like the way you challenge me like nobody else on this campus does. I like the way you don’t give me the time of day half the time. I like the way you’re the only person besides my own mother that calls me Jaeyun, and you say it like you don’t even realize you’ve got me by the heart.”
“Jaeyun—”
“Your perfume. The way you’re so smart and hardworking and you don’t give yourself even an ounce of credit that you deserve. Your stupid Beatles sweater. Your weird cursive handwriting. The way you remember everything, even my ID—”
It took five whole seconds before Jake could process your lips against his. He stood still until his brain could comprehend that the palm of your hand was cupping his cheek, and that you, too, were holding your breath. It was a countdown unlike any other sports game he had experienced in his entire lifetime, and yet somehow, it didn’t compare. Nothing in this world compared to you.
At the fifth second, Jake moved his lips. It was soft, of course, just like you. His hand ran through your curls until he reached the back of your neck, and then he pulled you closer. Close enough that he could smell that strawberry scent, and it was there he knew that this was better than any goal he could possibly score.
“You’re stupid.” You murmured, lips brushing against his, but even still, pressed a chaste kiss against his torn bottom lip.
“But you like me.”
“And I like you.” You corrected. Jake only grinned.
“I’ll take it.”
Goal. 1-0: win for Jake Sim.
plus. —
It was a warm night for the end of April, a stark contrast to the chill everyone was used to for the past few months. The crowd welcomed the seventy degree night, no longer needing to sport hoodies and hand warmers that they kept in the pockets of their pants and sweaters. Cropped shirts and various designs of the school’s sports team were all over the bleachers. This was the regional final, after all. Better to show out than nothing at all.
But you? You stood on the sidelines, by the medical tent, wearing a jersey. It hung low on the hips of your baggy jeans, but the number on the back was easily identifiable. #7. And above it? Sim.
You watched the game closely, arms crossed against your chest. You kept your eyes on the boy whose last name was on the back of your shirt, and the way he jogged effortlessly like he hadn’t been playing on the pitch for the last eighty eight minutes without a break. His eyes darted around the pitch, completely immersed in the game. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, no matter how obvious it was to the other trainers around you. It was just the effect of Jake Sim, after all. Eyes followed him everywhere. You were no exception.
Blood rushed in your ears as you watched Heeseung and Jake sprint up the pitch together, very clearly on the path to scoring a goal that would finish the current tied 2-2 score. You saw Heeseung lob a pass in the air to Jake. Jake jumped to meet the ball. This was it, you thought. But then a defender crashed into Jake, sending him rolling against the turf. Your hands tightened against your body. Even more so, when he didn’t get up. The golden boy—your boy—on the last of his collegiate career, on his way to a professional one no doubt, was on the ground.
“Come on.” A trainer murmured to you, handing you a bag. “Your time to shine.”
You jogged onto the field, trying to ignore the weak feeling in your legs. You pushed past Heeseung, who was telling off the player that presumably knocked down his best friend. A yellow card would be given, you were sure. But that didn’t matter now, not when you crouched next to Jake, who was attempting to get up with a groan.
“Jaeyun.” You warned.
“I’m fine.” He breathed heavily. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”
You ignored the wave of relief that rushed through your body. “I have to run a concussion test.”
Jake groaned. “Come on, I’m not Heeseung—”
“—If not for your team’s sake of mind, then for mine.” You interrupted, staring at him with a hard look. The two of you had agreed to be professional around each other when it came to times like these. And you were. But Jake Sim had always been your weakness. You knew that now.
Jake hesitated before nodding. You ran through all of your concussion tests while his coaches came to Jake’s side, informing him that the game was on pause. There was only a minute left, and then it would go into overtime. The game would return with a penalty kick. The defender who hit him got a yellow card. So did Heeseung, which caused Jake to snort.
“This determines everything, kid.” His coach told him. “Whether we win regionals or not. Everything we’ve been working towards this past season.”
“No pressure.” Jake replied sourly. It was so unlike him. The older man only nodded before walking off.
He passed all of the tests you had given him. He didn’t present any of the concussion symptoms that should have been there. The boy was right. The wind was just knocked out of him. Jake Sim was a lucky man.
“Don’t listen to him.” You murmured, packing up your things. Jake’s head snapped toward yours. “Play for you. Nobody else. Just you.”
“I play for a lot of people, including you.” He reminded you.
“I know, golden boy.” You rolled your eyes, getting up. “But this time, play for Jaeyun. Just this once.”
With that, you jogged back to your tent. Claps and cheers were heard around the field as Jake got up, shaking off his limbs. The referees announced the news that you had already heard. It was no shock that Jake would be taking the kick. He had a ninety nine percent success rate when it came to penalty kicks. Nearly a hundred percent—damn near perfection—and yet the sight of Jake setting the ball on the white patch of grass had you grasping your bottom lip in between your teeth in a bundle of panic and fear.
You watched as he rolled the ball three times before walking backwards. Jake did everything in threes, you noticed. Walked backwards three steps. To the left another three steps. Jumped three times.
The whistle blew, and you watched the boy that was slowly beginning to be the love of your life kick the ball with a perfect swing of his right leg. You watched as the ball hit the top of the crossbar and into the left corner of the net with an effortless ding. You watched as he sank to his knees while his team raced from the bench to crowd over him with cheers.
Golden boy Jake Sim won it. Both the game, and your heart.
The next few minutes came in a blur. Jake’s cheeks were simultaneously tear-stricken and pulled into an ear-splitting grin. You let him have the spotlight. Heeseung carried him on his shoulders, laughing wildly as Jake flung his legs around in protest. Jake held up the trophy above his head, eyes closed as he looked the happiest he had ever been. Maybe the happiest you had ever seen him. But then his eyes locked onto yours, and you knew then, that if Jake Sim hadn’t been it for you before, he was now.
The two of you pulled toward each other like magnets attracting. Jake jogged away from his team; you walked toward him without even realizing it. And suddenly he was pulling you into his arms, lifting you up and spinning you around. His boyish laugh echoed into your ears, and your yells to be put on the ground slowly turned into a melody of giggles that blended into the most beautiful song with him.
“If you don’t put me down right now, Jaeyun, I swear I’ll—” You let out through a fit of laughter.
“You’ll what?” He grinned, putting you down, inches away from him. His hands rested on your hips. Right where he wanted to be. “Hm? Tell me.”
“Give you an actual concussion.” Your eyes squinted at him in challenge, but you didn’t resist when he pecked a small kiss on the corner of your lips. “Then you’ll have to do head checks every month like your best friend.”
“Oh, an actual excuse to see you? Have at it then, baby.” He murmured, pressing another kiss on the other side of your lips. Your cheek. Your forehead. Your nose.
“You’re so gone, Jaeyun.” You laughed breathlessly.
“For you? Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s worth it. Everything about you. You’re worth it.”
Another goal. 2-0: win for Jake Sim. Even if he was just talking nonsense.
first seunghan, then heeseung, half of zb1, and now mark.
My ult groups keep getting taken apart im gonna fly out and set all these company buildings on fire.
on a lighter note, i hope mark finally gets the rest he deserves, it clearly wasnt an easy decision for him and i hope he knows even though hes closing one chapter, the people who care about him will always support him on his new ones.
i’ve been seeing so many stupid comments about ohyul’s ‘fat’ face. UHHHH HELLUR???! EXCUSE YOU are you well in the head??? may that fine man have chubby cheeks for the rest of his life AND MAY YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP thenk yew
