brightwin AUs

09: Jersey number 12

prompt: Ex-childhood best friends struggle to define what being friends actually mean.

heads up: 🔞🔞🔞

'He was the first friend I managed to have in middle school.' Bright wrote down to complete the first thought of his essay.

The longer he thought of the person in question, the more his head trembled with an ache he knew he deserved. Sleeping wasn't his thing if it meant having the chance to finish another round of FIFA.

'We don't talk nowadays.' He tried to write next but the thought of the phrase kind of baffled him.

But isn't it true? The last time he remembered where an actual reply came out of his old friend's mouth was the day before high school started.

The same day he told him about his first girlfriend.

Since then, almost four years passed, they never talked again.

Even when he broke up with that same girlfriend, he never got his friend back to share cheap beers with.

Unless when they're out in court, in their jersey uniforms.

"Chivaree." Bright looked up from his unfinished paper to only see his football coach by the door, who was already talking to his subject teacher.

"Sir?" He raised his hand in acknowledgement.

"You'll be dismissed early after turning your paper in, you're training the new recruits today with Metawin." His coach nodded at him before signaling a quick motion of his hand to tell him to hurry up.

There was it again. The familiar lump in his throat when the name was mentioned.

"Yes, coach." Bright answered before dropping back down to finish off his essay with a final phrase.

The open field wasn't the only sight that welcomed Bright when he rushed outside while forcing his jersey on. Win's broad back was already heaving as he jogged with the new players. They were probably on their second lap now as some were already brimmed with sweat.

"Three more, let's keep up!" Win hollered as he led the group with each grunt.

Bright tried to be discreet with his arrival, planning to join at the end of the trail but one of the rookie players saw him and before he could silence the kid, a holler of his name already broke out.

"You're late, Bright!" And just like that, every head turned to him with panting faces. 

He tried to act cool and unbothered but once his eyes traveled to Win who continued to jog with profound steps, something in him stirred.Why did he suddenly look different? Maybe it was his hair? The damp locks sticking on his forehead with every jump or maybe the way his shirt clung loosely when the wind would brush by?

"I'll finish the laps." He tried to offer when Win momentarily took his glance off him. They were now jogging side by side and the afternoon sun strained their backs with this warmth that seemed to seep through their skin.

"One last round, we got this." Win only panted out at Bright before taking off in front of him; leaving him with this weird tightening of not only his heart but his underpants.

What the fuck. Bright cursed himself.

The training went on as instructed and Bright decided that for the sake of whatever weird spell it was that was currently soaking him, it was better if they worked separately. So for the next two hours, they managed to part the group and train them on both ends of the field simultaneously.