Enterprise Center, St Louis, Missouri, Saturday Afternoon

[pocketpretzels]

After they'd found their seats- nothing extravagant, though also not high up in the nosebleeds, but something reasonable in the lower bowl- Watts had almost immediately sprung back up to head to the concessions, coming back several minutes later with popcorn, nachos, a pretzel, a beer, a glass cup of wine, and two hot dogs (all beef, he'd checked). How was he managing to carry all that? Good question, don't worry about it.

"I wasn't certain what sort of fixings you'd care for," Watts said, as he handed the beer and one of the hot dogs to Marc. "So I brought some of everything." From a pocket, he produced ketchup and mustard packets, as well as several condiment cups with things like onions, hot peppers, and whatever else one might put on a hot dog.

Had Marc requested any of that? Possibly not, but he was getting it anyway.

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"Nah," Marc said. Again there was something like a curve to his lips to show he wasn't being serious. "Haven't even gotten a second round of snacks yet."

[pocketpretzels]

"We are nearly out..." Watts mused. The popcorn was gone and the nachos were on their way to following them.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc took a look at what was happening on the ice. "Could make a run for it? If they score we can say we helped."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts followed Marc's gaze. "Is that how that works?" he asked, already unfolding himself into a standing position.

[hasaknightjob]

"Superstition," Marc said. He got up as well. "If they get a goal when we're not here, means us not being here was good luck."

[pocketpretzels]

"Huh," Watts absorbed that. "And if the opposing team gets a goal, I suppose that means us not being there was bad luck."

[hasaknightjob]

"Exactly," Marc said. He motioned for Watts to lead the way. "Lotta superstitions in sports. You get some guys won't change their socks the whole season, that kind of thing."

[pocketpretzels]

"Hmmm," Watts hummed. "That seems. Unsanitary."

[hasaknightjob]

"Maybe, but you gotta respect the streak," Marc said. "If your team is winning you don't do anything that might mess with it."

[pocketpretzels]

"I don't know that I would ever be that invested in the outcome of a sporting match," Watts said. He grimaced a little at the thought of why some people might be- namely, that they had money staked on the outcome.

[hasaknightjob]

"If you're on the team you might be," Marc said. "With fans it depends. Some take it more seriously than others."

[pocketpretzels]

"I have noticed that," Watts commented, as they passed by someone whose face was painted blue.

[hasaknightjob]

"Can be someone's whole life," Marc said. As though he didn't have a Cubs hat someone had made sure he didn't lose. "Guess it gives a sense of belonging. Like a club."

[pocketpretzels]

"I suppose I can appreciate that," Watts said. "Belonging."

[hasaknightjob]

"If you're into that I guess," Marc said. He gave Watts a wry look. "People."

[pocketpretzels]

"Believe it or not, I am," Watts said. "When it's the right people."

[hasaknightjob]

"You enjoy company?" Marc asked. Not disputing, curious.

[pocketpretzels]

"I enjoy- having a place. People. Who want me there."

[hasaknightjob]

"You're someone who should have that," Marc said. "I'm glad if it works out for you."

[pocketpretzels]

"I've got Steven, and you," Watts replied. "It has worked out, I'd say."

[hasaknightjob]

"Oh yeah," Marc said. His eyeroll was exaggerated enough that Watts could probably tell he was attempting to make a joke. "I'm a great conversationalist."

[pocketpretzels]

"We're having a good time, are we not?" Watts asked. There had even been meaningful conversation.

[hasaknightjob]

"You're one of the few people who don't bug me," Marc said, by way of a yes.

[pocketpretzels]

"I am?" Watts asked, pleased. Look, he more or less knew that already. Didn't hurt to hear it out loud, though.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm here," Marc pointed out, by way of a reply.