— treize ; thirteen —

HENRI SUSPECTED HE GOT a grand total of two hours of sleep, if he put together the minutes he had managed to doze off through the night, and he was perfectly willing to blame the Ravens for that.

He was woken bright and early at 6AM by Soren's alarm, just like he was every morning, and groaned as he curled up on the tiled floor. Somehow, he felt even worse than he had in the night. He felt about three seconds from throwing up even though he couldn't possibly puke again and his head was pounding. If this was a hangover, he was perfectly happy to never drink again and leave it at that. Being drunk hadn't even been that fun. If you liked a lack of inhibitions and loss of control, sure. It was just a series of stumbling and confusion and trying not to do something stupid.

He groaned again when the bathroom light flicked on and buried his face in the towel. "I'm going to die," he said piteously. "It's not a joke anymore."

Soren sounded entirely unsympathetic to his plight. "Can you die in the shower? You can't go to practice like that."

"Thanks a lot."

Something bounced off his chest and he blearily blinked out from beneath the towel to see Soren had thrown down the bottle of painkillers to him. Soren wasn't even looking at him, brushing his teeth at the sink, but Henri took a moment to study him. Had anything changed between them? He hoped not, and judging from Soren's usual blunt manner, he wasn't about going to treat Henri any differently. Henri had to remind himself this wasn't unusual for him — even if he'd only mentioned Jude, there were probably other Ravens he'd messed around with and never done anything more with.

Henri scrubbed himself down in as cold a shower as he could bear in an attempt to wake himself up and only partially succeeded. He still felt like an extra on The Walking Dead as he dragged himself out of the bathroom, yawning and still half-asleep.

"Haven't you people ever heard of summer?" Henri tugged a shirt over his head and looked accusingly at Soren. "It means sleeping in late and relaxation."

"Summer hasn't begun for us. Not yet," Soren said, at Henri's incredulous expression. "When the freshmen arrive next week, the majority of the team are allowed a few weeks to return home to their families before the season starts up again in August."

"The majority," Henri repeated. "I can guess who the minority are."

"The starting line-up and freshmen remain for practice, but the hours are shortened." Soren flicked off the bathroom light. "We only practice in the morning, with gym after lunch. The rest of the day is free time."

Henri thought about all that extra free time and found he'd forgotten what he even did for fun before Exy had consumed his life. Sleep, he supposed. He wouldn't mind getting a bit more of that right now but Soren was already leaving the room and Henri had no choice but to follow. Most other Ravens were awake, putting together a quick breakfast and having a look at the news before practice started. They were so isolated down here, someone could start World War III and they wouldn't even know until practice was postponed due to nuclear bomb attacks.

"Morning, rookie," Aria said when he entered the kitchen, sounding oddly cheerful. She smirked at his suspicious look. "Remember enough of last night to enjoy it?"

Henri pulled open the fridge. "I wouldn't have enjoyed it even if I remembered it."

"You went out with him?" One of the other Ravens asked, sounding appalled and a little disappointed. Henri marvelled at the fact he would actually want to go out with them, by choice.

"It wasn't a pleasure outing, Kenzington," Jude sneered. "At least not for the rookie. Moreau Junior here downed so many shots I'm surprised he isn't suffering from liver failure."

If Henri hadn't been watching him closely from the corner of his eye, he would have missed the way Jude's gaze flicked to Soren in an instinctive glance as if to see his reaction. Soren wasn't paying any attention to any of them or the conversation, more interested in the brewing coffee. Henri wondered how he hadn't noticed that before and whether any of the other Ravens were aware. Whatever happened between Soren and Jude, it must have been more serious than Henri originally thought.

Henri couldn't bring himself to eat any food, almost certain it would come right back up, and scanned the contents of the fridge for something that would stay down and give him energy until lunch. "Here," someone said, and Henri looked up to see Xander holding out a mug towards him. "This might help."

Henri took the mug and peered into the questionable liquid inside. It was a strange murky greenish colour and he would have assumed it was some kind of energy drink, until it lifted it up and gave a cautionary sniff. The tangy vinegary whiff made his nose wrinkle and he shot Xander a disbelieving look.

"What the hell is that?"

"Pickle juice," he said, his lips curling in a smile at Henri's disgusted expression. "It's a hangover cure. I'm not sure how it works, but it definitely does."

"How do I know you haven't put some kind of bleach or poison in this?"

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't trust you," Henri said.

Xander sighed and took the mug back. Henri watched closely as he took a sip, and when he didn't fall to the floor in a frothing fit, he reluctantly took the mug back from Xander. He had to admit, he was a little curious and he did feel like shit. Practice would be a miserable affair if he couldn't get his energy up and the painkillers weren't helping his headache as much as he'd like. He took a careful sip of the pickle juice and couldn't stop all of a grimace at the salty taste.

Henri narrowed his eyes at Xander. "I feel like you made this up to fuck with me and now I'm just an idiot drinking pickle juice."

"I swear by it," Xander promised.

Henri set the mug down. "Why are you being nice to me? Well," he corrected, "nicer than the others. I guess you haven't tried to kill me yet."

"They didn't tell you, but you passed the second trial," Xander said. "Even Benji was impressed at the amount you managed to get down, although it would kill him to admit it. That means Alixis will let you stay. They might not all like you, but they'll go considerably easier on you now. I always thought the hazings were a little harsh."

"So this is a pity friendship," Henri clarified. "If even that."

"Look," Xander sighed, "I get you don't trust me. I don't blame you, but you have to understand the hazings are something we all had to go through. It was cruel when it happened to us and it wouldn't be fair if newbies didn't have to go through the same. It just happens to be...unfortunate that you had to go through it alone. None of us have any reason to put you through hell anymore and I never wanted to in the first place."

Henri studied his face, searching for some hint of deceit, but Xander seemed entirely genuine about what he was saying. Unless this was an extremely elaborate ploy, Henri didn't think he was lying. He wasn't willing to let his guard down yet but his life would be considerably easier if Xander was really telling the truth. At length, Henri picked up the pickle juice and downed it in one gulp.

"I still don't like or trust any of you," Henri warned him.

Xander smiled. "That's okay. Baby steps."

— — — —

Henri was back on his Exy court back home. There were banners hanging from the rafters scribbled in French in the colours of his high school team, white and green. Exy was nowhere near as big of a sport in Europe as it was in America and Japan, but their small high school matches still drew a sizeable crowd from both sides. Maybe Henri didn't love Exy that much during day to day practice, but he loved being on court with a ball in his racquet and all eyes on him as he raced towards the goal. He swiftly sidestepped his mark to avoid a body check and raced down the court, passing to his striker who passed straight back before the backliner on him could steal possession.

It was just Henri and the goal. The goalkeeper shifted as he got ready to defend his goal but it was too wide, and Henri knew he would make it, there was no way he could miss — until he saw the face staring out at him from behind the grate of his helmet. Patrick Moreau was a fine-boned man with fair hair and blue eyes, looking nothing like Henri but still with a face as familiar as his own. Henri faltered at the sight of him and his muscles froze up, a mistake that allowed his mark to body check him hard enough to send him crashing into the floor. His racquet went skidding across the floor as the dealer scooped up the ball and ran.

Henri heard the outraged cries of the crowd and the game as it continued down the court, but he barely heard it. His father stood over him, heavy racquet in one hand and helmet in the other. Patrick Moreau rarely smiled, but this blank expression was a different thing entirely — his blue gaze was dead.

"Do you even think about us?" he asked. "The people you killed?"

Henri felt his breath catch in his throat. "I...I — "

"We risked our lives to protect you." His father twirled the large racquet between his gloved hands. "Fed you, sheltered you, hid you. Yet when they finally came for us? You turned your back on us and saved only your own life."

"I didn't mean to," Henri said desperately. "I wasn't going to leave you. I — "

The loud noise of the game abruptly cut off, as if someone had pulled the plug, and Henri looked around in alarm. The stands were empty and all the players were gone — Henri was alone on the court with his father, no one watching and no one listening. Henri turned back and his heart stopped. The racquet in his father's hand was now a gun, a sleek black revolver aimed at his head. The loud bang sounded too much like an Exy ball cracking off the wall.

He woke up feeling like he was crashing through ice water and jolted upright, his heart pounding so hard he felt like it was seconds from slamming out of his chest. He could still hear the sound of a gunshot echoing in his ears. Henri felt like he was dying and he didn't know how to stop it when all he could see was blood staining the carpet and his home going up in flames. It took a whole minute before he could remember how to breathe again and another for his breathing to gradually even out.

"Hey," Soren said.

Henri started and turned to stare into the darkness. He hadn't realised he'd woken him up, but Soren was sat up and looking in his direction, his expression impossibly to see in the shadows. Henri hoped that meant he couldn't see his expression because he didn't think he could manage to school it into something neutral.

"Henri?" Soren prompted, when he didn't reply.

"Sorry," Henri managed, barely recognising the hoarse rasp of his voice. "Didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

Henri expected him to do exactly that, considering the fact they had practice and Soren wouldn't waste his time, and Henri stared down at his hands. He could only see their vague outline in the darkness but their shape was still familiar, long and slim. He thought about those hands around a gun and felt like he was dying all over again. His parents had died a month ago and Henri thought he was moving on, but then he had nights like this, when the nightmares brought the memories up to the forefront and the grief was a physical force choking him.

He flinched instinctively when his bed sank with the weight of another body. He could only stare as Soren turned to face him, sitting close enough that Henri could feel his warm breath fanning his cheek and he only needed to lean forward slightly to close the distance between them. A little of the ice in his veins thawed as he remembered the blaze of heat spilling under his skin when Soren had touched him.

His eyes closed when Soren moved forward but the touch of his lips never came. "This is a distraction," Soren said, in a voice rough with something Henri couldn't identify, "so you'll stop waking me up in the night."

Any response Henri might have given died away when Soren kissed him. Immediately, he curled his arms around Soren's neck and pulled him closer, feeling the taut muscles of his body and still needing him even closer. He didn't realise how much he was craving his touch until his body ignited in response and the featherlight brush of Soren's fingers down his chest sparked every one of his nerve endings from the waist down. Already, the cold reality of death and blood was fading away, forgotten momentarily in the brief shared passion of their mouths.

Henri gasped when Soren's hand didn't stop as it moved down and rested between his legs, an unfamiliar but not unpleasant weight. Soren ghosted a kiss along his cheek and whispered in his ear, "Have you ever done this before?"

"Not with a boy," he admitted.

The first and only time he'd had sex had been an awkward and bumbling affair. The two of them had been virgins who wanted to try sex for the novelty and experience of it, not particularly because they cared about each other. She was just a girl who'd come to watch one of his Exy games and he'd known her for two weeks when they did it in her bedroom while her parents were at work. Henri hadn't disliked it, not at all, but it felt nothing like this. All Soren was doing was touching him through his pants and it already felt better than sex with that near stranger.

"We can change that." Soren pulled back slightly to look at Henri with green eyes were blazing with desire. The sight of that intense gaze made Henri's whole body turn hot. "Only if you want to."

Henri responded by propping his hands on either side of Soren and leaning forward to recapture his mouth. "I want to," he whispered against his lips.

"Take your pants off," Soren ordered.

Henri thought he hated Soren's bossy nature but this husky tenor to his voice was an entirely different matter. He began shimmying out of his sweatpants and Soren helped pull them down when he deemed he was taking too long. If Henri thought he was turned on before, it was nothing compared to the sensation that flooded him when Soren touched his dick, no cloth in the way. Soren gave him one last hard kiss before moving his mouth along Henri's jaw and neck, roaming a hot path down his chest before swallowing him whole.

Henri clutched his fingers in Soren's thick golden locks and couldn't stop the moan that left his lips, spasms of pleasure arching his spine as Soren took him apart with his mouth. He didn't want it to end but he couldn't hold out any longer and he tightened his grip in Soren's hair when he finally came, every muscle in his body tense with pure bliss. He collapsed back against the pillows, burnt out from lust and need, and Henri gasped out his name. Soren raised his head and smothered another gasp with his lips.

They just made out for a while, Henri's spent nerves needing time to recover, and then he trailed a hand down from Soren's hair to his dick. He was already hard and Henri brushed his hand across it, a silent offer to return the favour. But Soren was already pulling away and Henri opened his eyes to frown at him.

"We have practice," Soren said.

Henri felt cold without Soren pressed against him. "Then why did you come over here?"

"A distraction," Soren reminded him.

Henri felt confused and bewildered as he watched Soren return to his own bed. He knew this was nothing more than experimentation on his part but he had no idea what it was to Soren, beyond something to entertain himself. That was how it was supposed to be, so why did Henri feel so disorientated? Jude's words echoed in his head now — he won't even look at you twice when he's done with you. Henri might have felt used if not for the fact Soren hadn't even taken his pants off around him, whereas he'd been happy to suck him off and send him on his way. It didn't make any sense.

Henri was kept up all night thinking about an entirely different thing now as he rolled over in bed, away from Soren.

— — — —

"Moreau!"

Henri understood the shout meant the wide pass Benjamin had just slammed all the way down court was intended for him, and he darted forward to reach the ball before Alixis, the dealer on the opposing scrimmage, could reach it. He made sure he was at the right distance before jumping and snagging the ball out of the air. He was off across the court before Alixis could try and steal possession, and he passed off the wall to himself, turning to see who was clear. Jude was covered by Matthias but Soren had managed to evade Xander, and was in the space for the ball before it had even left Henri's net.

The thing about the Ravens drills was, they were so precise it took a painfully long time to perfect but once you had mastered them, you could play with unrivalled speed alongside people who had been learning the same drill. Henri knew the exact trajectory his ball would hit and so did Soren, snatching it up without a moments hesitation. He'd already turned and fired on the goal by the time Xander checked him, and the Ravens goalie on the opposing side wasn't quite fast enough to block it. The Master's whistle signalled the end of the scrimmage and that Henri's team had won.

They had their usual rundown and criticism regarding the scrimmage, and then the Ravens were given their hour for lunch. Henri found himself watching Soren as he tossed his racquet to the benches and left the inner court. He hadn't mentioned the blowjob from the night before and Henri sure as hell wasn't about to bring it up, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought about it. He wanted some kind of answers and he knew the person he was most likely to receive them from.

Xander was walking laps around the length of the court with Benjamin, something the two of them did sometimes during breaks, and Henri waited until they made a full cycle before stepping onto the court to join them. Xander accepted his presence with a small smile but Benjamin came to a stop.

"What the hell do you want?" he demanded.

"For you to go away," Henri replied. "I want to talk to Xander."

Benjamin flicked a disbelieving look at his friend. "Why?"

"If I wanted to tell you, you would know," Henri said with a pointed look. "Go for a jog or something."

Benjamin scowled and took a threatening step towards him, but Xander held out an arm to stop him. He was a few inches shorter than the goalkeeper and Benjamin could have easily bulled past him but he stopped at the gesture. "It's fine, Benji," Xander assured him. "This won't take long. I'll catch up in a sec."

Benjamin gritted his teeth but reluctantly stepped back, jabbing a finger at Henri with an implied threat before wheeling around onto inner court. "Interesting," Henri said, as they picked up the pace to continue laps with Benjamin. "Do you have mind control or a terrible secret over him that makes him listen to you?"

Xander quirked an eyebrow. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

Henri would be willing to discuss the principles of that strange friendship dynamic, but he had more pressing issues. He filed the topic away for a rainy day x and went straight in with, "What happened between Soren and Jude? The fully story," Henri added, "because I know there's more to it than just fooling around a bit."

"He won't tell you himself?" Xander wondered.

"I haven't asked," Henri said, assuming he meant Soren. He avoided speaking to Jude whenever possible and it wasn't exactly a secret. "And I don't think he'd tell me if I did. So I figured I'd get answers somewhere else, seeing as you owe me one anyway."

It was a long shot and Henri half expected him to refuse. Instead, Xander seemed perfectly willing to start talking. "I guess I can tell you, since it's a team secret and you're part of the team now," he said. "Whatever it was between them, it did start as nothing serious. They slept in different rooms so when the hooking up began it wasn't exactly something either of them could hide and to be honest, they didn't try to.  No one thought anything of it because Soren was hardly exclusive to Jude."

"Who else did he hook up?" Henri asked, curious.

"Matthias, for starters," Xander said, and Henri nodded, because that one made sense. "And me."

Henri was so astonished that he stopped walking. "You?"

"Should I be offended that you look so surprised?" Xander glanced back at Henri, but the small smile playing at his lips said he was joking. "Yeah, me, but it was only a couple of times. We were both freshmen and it made sense during the confusing time of hazings. Later into the season, Soren only ever did anything with Jude."

"Were they dating?" Henri asked, walking alongside Xander again.

"Dating, no. Soren would never call it that," Xander said with a shrug. "I don't know when it became something more serious for Jude but it was soon pretty clear to everyone their relationship was more one-sided than anything. Soren seemed to realise the same thing, because he cut things off between them right before Spring Championships. I don't know how that conversation went but I'm guessing it was pretty brutal, because things have always been kind of awkward between them since. Even though Soren's put it aside for Exy Jude won't let it go that easily."

"Because he still likes Soren," Henri guessed, thinking about the stolen glances and lingering looks.

"That would be my guess too." Xander glanced back towards inner court, where Jude was talking with Aria and Alixis. "He hasn't said as much, but I wouldn't be surprised. Why the sudden interest, anyway?"

"Oh," Henri said, surprised by the sudden question. He quickly recovered himself. "Like you said, I'm stuck on this team now, no matter how much some of you piss me off. Might as well understood the weird sexual dynamics between all of you."

"Mhm, sure." Henri scowled at the knowing suggestion to his tone but Xander just smiled. "Whatever reason you're asking, I'll tell you something. Soren doesn't do emotional relationships. I've known him for a year and that much is obvious. In fact, I'd be surprised if he even does love. I don't know if that's a sexuality thing or something fucked with him in the past, but don't go into anything expecting too much."

Henri's automatic response was, "There isn't anything to go into," but the events of last night rose to the surface of his mind unbidden, Soren's burning green gaze and his mouth doing things Henri didn't think was possible. He felt his face turning hot at the memory.

"Henri, we all have eyes," Xander said gently. "We've all seen the way you look at each other when you think no one's watching. Whatever that is — "

"There isn't anything," Henri repeated, with firm insistence, and quickened his pace to a jog to get away from Xander.