Page 136 of Contested

The questions ranged from simple, stupid things to things that might have been harder to answer if it weren’t for the alcohol.

“What’s your favourite food?”

“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve done?”

“Is there someone you’re missing?”

“When’s the last time you cried?”

Sebastian had answered his favourite food was miến gà because his grandparents used to make it for him to cheer him up.

Marcos had said the stupidest thing he had done was trying to drift his father’s car when he first got his license and almost flipped it.

Felicity’s name was brought up when Sebastian said he missed her, and Marcos sat in silence while Sebastian told him the story of what happened.

The last time Marcos had cried was in the hospital when he had been alone, and the reality of his injuries had set in, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to play in the next season.

Both of them knew they couldn’t really call it a game, but neither of them said anything as they continued to take cards and ask questions.

Marcos learned that Sebastian had wanted a dog when he was younger, but his grandparents had said no because they were too busy and didn’t think Sebastian could care for it properly.

Sebastian learned Marcos had once tried to cut his own hair before a junior final and had screamed hard enough that Diana had taken him to a barber to get it fixed.

Marcos’ hand found Sebastian’s leg at some point. One minute they were talking, the next his fingers were running down the outside of Sebastian’s calf, slow and idle over the skin where his sweatpants had pulled up.

The next card bent slightly in Marcos’ taped fingers when he pulled it from the box.

“What do my shoes say about me?” Marcos asked, brow knotting. “Some of these questions are weird.”

“I have no idea,” Sebastian said with a laugh. “That we have the same-sized feet.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Prove it.” Marcos lifted his leg up, and Sebastian rolled his eyes, doing the same.

They placed the soles of their feet together, and both of them leaned to the side to see properly. Sebastian’s foot pressed evenly against his. Same length. Same width.

“Fuck,” Marcos muttered, dropping his foot back down.

“Told you. Same size.” Sebastian lowered his foot, too, with a stupid grin on his face. “That was also possibly the gayest thing we’ve done.”

Marcos laughed, then groaned as his shoulder shifted wrong.

The pain wasn’t sharp, but it caught him in the wrong place, pulling down through the joint and across his chest until he had to pause with his hand braced lightly against the couch.

“Alright, I know I’m hilarious, but don’t hurt yourself,” Sebastian said, reaching for another card.

Marcos waved him off with his good hand.

Sebastian dropped his gaze to the card. “What are you most scared of?”

Marcos considered it briefly, relaxing his shoulder again, then he clicked his tongue. “Oh, I fucking hate spiders.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I can’t deal with them.” Marcos shook his head. “Freaky little fuckers.”