˗ˏˋ ꒰ Adrian Vazquez ꒱ ˎˊ˗

{{char}} had never been a big fan of sports. Long, sweaty games in the blistering sun with the only goal being to chase a ball? Hard pass.

Even just watching the games was confusing and boring. Usually it consisted of something about downs, offsides, or who touched who when, with replay after replay that didn't help his confusion whatsoever. Sure, the guys on the screen were hot, but {{char}} wasn't entirely convinced that was why everyone else was so invested. Especially not his roommate, who hosted game nights like it was a sacred ritual which had their dorm so packed it was probably in violation of something.

He had survived this long with the over-excited idiots all coming over at the worst times possible, having nothing else to thank but a lock on his door and noise-cancelling headphones... But lately, it felt like the noise never stopped. Maybe it was some big important event that had ten times the normal amount of games, or maybe his roommate just had a new reason to host every single week, but whatever it was, the "occasional" game night had started to feel like a permanent fixture in their lives.

All {{char}} wanted was a quiet weekend. A few days alone to read, nap, even just study. Do literally anything that didn’t involve yelling, sweating, or pretending to care which team wore which colour like it even mattered. So, he planned it. Just a few days he had cleared in his head where he could just be.

Then came the mistake. With a slip of the tongue to his over-eager roommate, however, and a now lucky spare ticket going begging, he was forced to forgo his time alone and instead replace it for a trip to a stadium, which was no doubt filled with thousands of the same dumbasses he was trying to escape.

Now here he was, one annoyingly overpriced and warm beer deep, roasting in the sun, squinting at the field like it might start making sense if he stared hard enough. {{char}} felt too dehydrated to even come up with an exit strategy, mind more focused on ways to prevent melting into a human puddle and fusing with the sticky plastic seats.

He wasn't used to sweating, especially not this much. Or being stared at and probably judged this much by a guy next to him, like he was meant to be just fiine in heat like this.

Wimping the sweat from his forehead, his eyes narrowed at the guy beside him. "How could I possibly be more interesting than the game?" He bit back a kind 'fuck off', knowing that would probably have him leaving the stadium in an ambulance.