World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

58.0

THE BANANA-RIDE

Liam's stupid theory about this being the World Cup and everything is, as I said, beyond stupid. But I have something to admit, even if it makes me feel ridiculous. His theory got me kind of, just a little, not so much, moderately excited. You all know me already and that means you know how I feel about losing and how much I love challenges.

How hard can it be to win a damn cup anyways? Since I came to Brazil, I've been watching these football players running behind a round ball like maniacs. That's not so different from what Niall and I are doing now. Wait, I'll go with my name first because there's no way that bottom bitch will ever come before me. Unless we are talking about the naughty, I bet he always comes first than anyone, like the lame loser he is.

Football players running behind a round ball, me and the bottom fairy running behind a round arse. Even if the Irish version of Casper has no use for that fine piece of art. No use because he is a bottom and Casper because he is super white, got it?

Anyways, back to my original point, these football players seem so tired and sweaty all the time and I'm just sitting there, having a beer, thinking to myself: "Dude, you are just running, where's your chill?" And, besides running, also trying to make the ball enter the arch. And, I don't know if y'all underage or not but I'm obviously trying to make something enter something else as well. Score.

This time, for the first time ever, Mr. Bulk was actually able to make one of his stupid metaphors work but there is absolutely no way in the whole world that I'm going to let him know that.

"Cup? Seriously?" I laugh, "Mate, you need to stop trying to make your stupid metaphors happen."

"You are missing the point," he sighs, "You need to go now. They are probably there already."

"I'll take another shot," I try to remain calm, "And then I'll see if I'll go or not."

"You are so terrified," he shakes his head at me, "What a chicken."

"It's not that," I order my tequila shot, "I just don't want to look desperate. That's all. I'm too gorgeous to look desperate in front of someone."

"That attitude will make you end up alone," he gives me a pity look that I hate, "With lots of cats."

"Bitch, please," I give him an attitude, "Hot dudes like me don't end up alone."

"Just go and ride that damn banana boat right now."

"I'm not sure yet," I take my tequila shot.

"Dude, you are getting wasted and you need to go right now," he raises his voice, "Maybe the tourist is testing you."

"And who does he think he is to test me?" I laugh, "That bitch ain't my teacher."

"What is it that scares you so much anyways?"

"Nothing," I shrug.

"Is it the depth of the water?"

"Nope, I'm a great swimmer."

"The sharks?"

"Dude, don't mention the sharks," I feel something cold climbing my back.

"There are no sharks here," he laughs at me.

"It's the ocean! Of course there are freaking sharks there," I sigh, "And I just don't see the point of it. What's a banana boat anyways? Like why would you ever ride a banana? It makes absolutely no sense."

"It does make all the sense in the world if riding that banana boat is a way to prove something to the guy you love."

"Love? Oh, Please, I do not love the midget," I try to sound convincing, "I'm just banging the queer."