Page 135 of Contested

“I can’t believe you spilt almost the whole glass.” Marcos chuckled, watching as Sebastian poured himself another drink and sat down at the other end of the couch.

“At least I haven’t broken any bones.”

“Wow. Low blow.”

Sebastian smirked, then swung his legs onto the couch, and Marcos did the same. They each had a leg between each other’s while the other rested beside. Sebastian shifted a little, and his sock brushed Marcos’ leg.

Marcos glanced down at Sebastian’s white socks, and Sebastian raised his eyebrows, which earned him a gentle kick in the thigh.

The knock tugged through Marcos’ shoulder, and he ignored it.

It was easier being here now than it had been the first few times. Marcos had been here enough to know which cupboard Sebastian kept glasses in, where the spare towels were, which side of the couch Sebastian automatically took.

He knew enough to be comfortable.

Sebastian leaned forward and grabbed the box, turning it in his hands. “Alright. So, how do we play this thing?”

“Just sit it between us, and we take turns asking each other questions,” Marcos instructed.

Sebastian had already pulled a card out before he placed the box in the nook between their legs. “Do I seem like someone who would get a name tattooed on myself?” he read, glancing up to Marcos. “Oh, I get it. It’s just to get to know each other.”

Marcos lifted his good shoulder and grinned. “About time, right?”

Sebastian hummed. “Alright. So, am I?”

“I don’t think you’d ever get a tattoo.”

“Really?” Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Do you not think I’m cool enough?”

“So, you would?”

“Not of a name, no. But I would get something. It would be meaningful.”

Marcos nodded as Sebastian set the card aside.

Marcos picked up one of his own. “When I was a child, what do you think I wanted to be when I grew up?”

“AFL player. Easy.”

“Not the whole time.” Marcos shook his head. “I wanted to be a doctor for a bit.”

“What happened to that?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head.

“Consistent Cs in all subjects with the occasional F.”

“Occasional F?” Sebastian shook his head.

“Like you never failed a subject.”

“Hey, I was almost a straight-A student. Except for science. I hated science.”

Marcos watched him over the edge of his glass. “You hated science and still nearly got straight As?”

Sebastian’s mouth shifted like he was trying not to look too pleased with himself. “Well, science was mostly Bs.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

Both of them laughed, and the night settled more after that. The answers came more easily, and the more whiskey they drank, the less stiff their words became. The warmth of the drink came to rest in Marcos’ chest, and the television kept humming in the background as their legs pressed against each other.