Chapter Text
The coffee shop was crowded. It was the day before the first home football game and you weren’t particularly happy about it. The crowds had descended, filling your usual study nook leaving you to hide in the corner. The mass of people made you felt almost claustrophobic, like the wall were squeezing in on you. Still you were trying to work on one of the many papers you had due despite the chaos. Your headphones were plugged in, blasting your study playlist, trying to drown out the noise around you. Suddenly the volume surged around you and you looked up. A crowd had formed around the entrance. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your paper. You were just ready for the games to be over, so you could have your quiet town back.
You finished up the paragraph you were working on and reached around to grab a book from your backpack when a scuffle from behind you made you glance up. Seconds later someone ran into you, their iced coffee dumping down the front of your shirt.
“Oh shit,” a deep voice exclaimed as you jumped out of your chair. The guy grabbed a handful of napkins and passed them to you.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered and shifted uncomfortably, as you tried to dry yourself.
“I’m fine,” you assured him looking up to meet his eyes for the first time, bright green and eerily familiar. First thing you noticed was how gorgeous he was. You had always heard of hearts skipping beats, but you never thought you’d actually meet someone that would make you want to drool over. Second thing was how cold the iced coffee was. You pulled your shirt away from you only to have it stick back to your skin.
“I’m just glad it was iced not hot,” you commented and he smiled for the first time ducking his head. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he looked up at you again.
“You’re in my history class right?” he asked looking back up at you, his eyes bright and you remembered where you had seen him.
“Oh! You sit in the back right?” you remembered brushing past him when you were late for class.
“Yeah, and you sit right in the front. Always ready to talk. I couldn’t do it,” he shook his head. “I could barely email him and ask for the paper topics,” he ran a hand across the back of his neck nervously.
“It shouldn’t be too hard, the topics are fairly broad… I could help you out if you needed it.” you offered and he looked up at you. Nerves hit you as you realized what you were doing. Talking to a very cute boy in a coffee shop… this was the stuff of cheesy romance novels and so not you.
“That’d actually be nice,” he admitted and you relaxed. He unconsciously leaned towards you trying to get closer in the crowded cafe. Something about him put you at ease, his eyes were kind and though you could tell he was shy, he still felt open to you.
“How’s tomorrow? I can meet you at the library if that works,” you suggested and he laughed quietly.
“Planning to be a little busy tomorrow, game and all,” he reminded you. Despite your indifference to the game, you didn’t care if the rest of the city wanted to work themselves into a frenzy
“Oh right, that’s a thing. You’re planning to go?” you asked still trying to keep your soaked shirt from sticking to you and he laughed a bit harder.
“I’m kinda the quarterback, so yeah I’m planning to be there. Look, you watch the game tomorrow, I guarantee you’ll be able to find me,” he grabbed a napkin and a pen from his pocket.
“Here’s my number,” he scribbled on the napkin. “You go get out of that shirt and text me tomorrow after the game okay?” he held napkin out to you. “And I really am sorry,” he gestured at your coffee soaked shirt. Smiling a bit, you took the scribbled on paper.
You glanced down at it. Jensen Ackles #13 706-546-0014 This couldn’t be real. It was just a number, it didn’t really mean anything, but could it turn into more?
“Jay, come on, coach wants us back,” one of his friends called from the door and he started to back away. He glanced over his shoulder before turning back to you, a flash of regret that he had to leave you.
“Text me tomorrow? Promise?” he asked and you giggled.
“Okay,” you agreed. He grinned and backed out the door. You started packing up your stuff when Jensen ran back in. A clatter as he ran into a table caught your attention and made you look up at him again. For an athlete he really seemed to be a klutz.
“What’s your name?” he called out over the crowd, his height allowing him to see over the crowd.
“Y/N!” You called out throwing your backpack over your shoulder.
“Y/N,” he repeated. He smiled and . “I’ll remember that.”
***
You spent your Saturday curled up on the couch with your computer open to the basics of football. Your family hadn’t been involved in football and you generally couldn't care less. You had read over the basics but you still could barely keep up.
“And number 13 Ackles with possession passing off to Novak who is in the clear for a first down,” the announcer narriated.
“Well I think that was impressive,” you muttered as you tried to keep up with wear the ball was. By half time you figured just watch where the players tackled and that was generally where the ball was. The game passed slowly and honestly you didn’t pay attention to most of it unless Jensen was in the game. He was almost a different person on the field. The camera would occasionally zoom in on his face. His expression, hard and serious, so different from the light and sparkling boy you ran into at the coffee shop. He was fierce as he took the field, in complete control. You couldn’t help but cringe as he was almost constantly hit, but it didn’t seem to phase him.
Slowly, your attention waned and you flipped between working on some homework. It wasn’t that you didn’t care, you just weren’t as involved as most people were. They eventually pulled out a win, just a few points ahead of the other team. Not that you knew, you had fallen asleep during the third quarter. You woke up again and the sun had set while the announcers had started discussing the game. You scrambled around and found your phone stuck between the cushions of the couch.
“Good game, you did great! (This is Y/N by the way, from the coffee shop)” you texted Jensen, hoping he wouldn’t wonder about the massive gap between the end of the game and you texting. You wandered to the kitchen in search of dinner when you phone buzzed again in your back pocket.
Thanks, Y/N. Glad you watched. It buzzed again immediately.
You going downtown tonight? We could meet up. You set your leftover pizza in the microwave before answering.
Not really my thing, but I’ll see you in class Monday.
Yeah, I’ll see you then.
***
Jensen looked tired as he came into the classroom Monday afternoon, but his eyes lit up as you made your way back to him. You hopped up on the desk in front of him, your legs swinging. The butterflies came back as he smiled up at you. You tried not to get too excited, but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.
“Long weekend?” You asked and he shook his head.
“Got tossed around a bit Saturday,” he commented and you nodded.
“Yeah some of those hits were hard, I was kinda worried for a bit,” you admitted freely and he smiled. He was easy to talk to. Something about him put you at ease as if you had known him for years instead of talking five minutes in a coffee shop.
“I’m used to the tackles by now,” he brushed off your fear.
“I’d still love the help with the paper, if you’re still willing,” Jensen mentioned and you nodded. As soon as you agreed, he visibly relaxed. Despite his easy going nature, you could still feel the shy nervousness rolling off of him.
“Sure, got anything after class today?” you asked and he shook his head.
“Wait,” he groaned, “practice, how did I forget that,” he groaned and you giggled a bit. You had expected him to try and play the cool guy, not let himself be imperfect.
“Talking to a cute girl, I guess, get it together Jay,” he muttered under his breath and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. Your face rushed with warmth as you picked up on his “cute girl” comment and giddy buzzing set in as you realized he was just as interested in you as you were in him. Jensen groaned and dropped his head onto his arms when he realized you heard that. Adorable and dorky, was someone supposed to be this perfect? He looked back up and fidgeted with his pen.
“Sorry,” he muttered, a slight blush rising on his freckled cheeks. He leaned back and ran his fingers through his short hair.
“You know, facing a 300 pound linebacker is less intense than talking to you right now,” he admitted and you felt a stone drop in your stomach.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered about to slid off the desk and disappear when he looked up at you scared.
“Not you! I’m just… well shy. Talking to girls isn’t easy, especially when they’re as gorgeous and as smart as you,” he rushed out and it was your turn to blush.
“Can we just start over?” he asked grimacing. He held his hand out to you.
“Hi. I’m Jensen, I am sorry I dumped coffee on you but I’d love to meet up with you sometime and work on a paper,” you laughed a bit as his humor shone through. You reached out and took his hand, shaking it gently.
“I’m Y/N and despite being covered in your coffee, I’d love to study with you sometime,” You pulled away and he grinned making your stomach flip with excitement. You let your mind escape you despite you imagined this flirting between you two slowly developing into more. Your thoughts jumped to him walking with you, your hand tightly in his. You imagined going out on dates and gentle kisses until you pulled yourself back to the present.
“It’s a date,” he responded and you watched him cringe like he was mentally kicking himself.
“It’s a date,” you confirmed and he smiled nervously at you. He opened his mouth to say something else, but professor chose that exact moment to walk into the room.
“Text me after?” you asked and Jensen nodded as you made your way back to your normal desk. You weren’t able to focus at all during the class. You fidgeted with your pencil and bounced your leg unable to sit still. The second the professor announced he was finished, you turned in your desk to look back at Jensen. It felt like ice clenched around your heart as a girl giggled at something he murmured. Naturally, you were just homework help. You tried to fight the tears that started to well up in your eyes. Brushing the few that fell you quickly made your way out of the classroom and to the bus stop. He would text you, you’d finish this paper, and that would be it. End of story.