head over heels

10 ~ ethan it is five thirty in the fucking morning

[A/N - um i rlly need beta readers....... atp i fear this story is being fueled by delusion. currently trying to write a shakespeare essay for uni and using this story to procrastinate. i wish for death.]

Evan was woken abruptly by a hand nudging his shoulder. He burrowed into his mound of thick blankets, refusing to be shaken from his pleasant sleep.

"Evan, get the fuck up," Ethans voice barked.

"What?" He rasped. "Get out."

"Dude, get the fuck out of bed, we need to go."

"Seriously?" he groaned blearily, reaching unsuccessfully for his phone. Ethan passed it to him. He opened it, wincing at the light that assaulted his eyes. He blinked at the time, not believing it for a second. Then he looked up at Ethan. "Ethan. It is five thirty in the fucking morning right now, why are you in my room?"

"Practice."

Evan glared at Ethan in the darkness, "You're fucking with me. You do not get up at five fucking thirty every morning."

"Uh, yes I do?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No?"

"I literally do. We're running late, let's go. Hurry the fuck up."

"This—" Evan waved his phone that displayed the time, "This is late?"

"Practice starts at six."

"Oh fuck off."

"Come on," Ethan groaned, "You agreed to this, don't you dare back out now."

Evan steeled himself. He was thoroughly awake now. A fact that pissed him off. "Fuck," he spat, "Fucking fine."

"We leave in ten."

Evan felt like crying. Ethan didn't bother to shut the door behind him. It was still dark outside, and would be for another hour. Fuck this was going to suck. He stumbled up and out of bed, feeling like a drunk zombie.

This was not normal. No matter how good a team was, they should not be getting up at five in the fucking morning to whack balls around.

He fumbled around with his clothes, putting his loaned gym stuff straight on. He really needed to get his own. He hated that he was walking around looking like a knock off Ethan every time he put them on. He shrugged an oversized blue sweater over top so he would feel slightly less dumb.

Evan half fell down the stairs, bag slung over his shoulder. Ethan sat on the counter, a protein shake in one hand, his phone in the other. He set his phone, picking up the mug that sat next to him and handing it to Evan.

Coffee. It felt like a peace offering.

"I still hate you," Evan muttered.

Ethan snorted, "I know."

The car ride ensued in silence, and Evan struggled to keep himself awake. Even Ethan was less chatty than usual.

As they pulled into the gym car park, he could see the other team members pile out, looking equally deathly. Oliver, Hugo and Kei clambered out of the one car. Kei wore an oversized black hoodie with the strings drawn, his face only peeking out of a small circle in the middle. All three of them clutched coffees, Kei seemed to be dual sipping a coffee and a protein shake, alternating drinks comically. It was kind of endearing, in a strange way.

Hugo said something.

"Don't talk to me," Oliver groaned, his headphones clapped over his ears in a fuck off gesture. "Coffee hasn't hit yet."