Viscount Streetlove (boyxboy)

[6] Crazy Wolf.

     Verger's streetball contest was today, two days after the 'robe party'. Lorn chuckled at the memory even now, and the people in the same aisle as him glanced at him weirdly. He merely moved on, eyeing the products displayed in search for Verger's favorite energy drink with a squint since the ceiling light was painfully bright and white.

     He was going to be a good friend and show up, hand him the drink and swat his head, then send him on the court and curse his entire family throughout the match. 'Cause that's what friends do. And then, when the game ends, they'll hold their end of the deal: if Verger wins, he gets to punch Lorn in the face, if he loses, Lorn gets to punch him in the face.

     The same deal would apply tomorrow, in the case of Lorn's streetfight. Thought which made him wonder why he wasn't with his friends practicing instead of playing the water boy.

     With a huff, he placed the bottle of Crazy Wolf -sugar free version because it was cheaper- on the counter and winked at the cashier. She raised a ridiculously thin eyebrow and half-grinned, winking back.

     Huh. Verger does it better.

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     The court was located near the centre of Viscount Street. The centre itself was occupied by this abandoned warehouse that could be seen from any angle of the street, due to its humongous size. People would go there to drift their cars around the warehouse's yard, throw coma-inducing parties on its flat roof, fuck or take drugs in the ill infected corners of the scraped rooms, all that good stuff!

     Lorn smiled slightly at the building that felt like a paternal figure to them all, and in his mind asked it to wish Verger luck. It was just a short thought, one of those prayers you're kind of ashamed to even acknowledge having mouthed, and so he looked away, to where Verger was sitting.

     He was on a wooden bench that stretched a couple meters, with his four teammates seated on both sides of him- he was in the middle.

     As Lorn made his way to him, he took the time to observe the public. There were considerably more people than would be at Lorn's streetfights, mainly because basketball didn't attract as much police attention and was far from illegal, and so people could watch freely without having to keep an eye around for any flashing blue and red lights.

     As he got near the bench, a man with a ridiculous amount of blond hair turned to him and waved him off. Lorn raised his arms incredulously, and the guy rolled his eyes.

     "He does this thing before games to calm his nerves." he pointed at the head-banging Verger, his palms surely leaving bruises beneath those trousers as he slapped his thighs on the rhythm of whatever blasphemy he was listening to.

     "Ah, I see." Lorn slumped, watching with a wince as Verger moved his palms on his teammates' legs, slapping them even quicker than before, while his feet tapped the ground violently enough for the dust to rise into a faint fog around their feet.

      The blond growled through his teeth, but the guy on Verger's right- a weird thing with uncombed hair, dark circles and piercingly empty gaze- simply stared ahead.

     Lorn shook his head, glancing around at the people seated on bleachers, beyond the tall chain-link fence. However, his gaze was stolen by a man that was heading their way.

     He was... tall. Tall and black. There was a piercing on his lower lip, and Lorn bet he could wear the thing as a ring, what with the man's lip being so plump, characteristic of his race. His hair was surely afro, but he tried to tame it by pulling on an orange beanie. He was wearing a large black shirt and knee-length jeans, with a chain hanging by the side.