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Phoenix was just pottering around in the kitchen and it was only when he'd finished the washing up that he heard the sound of Miles shouting. He dropped the dishcloth immediately and ran into the lounge, but it turned out his lover was fine. More than fine, in fact.
"BEAUTIFUL!" Miles shouted at the television as the sound of cheering from the television filled the room.
Phoenix blinked at the sight of the football player in a black and red shirt running around on the screen, hands thrown up in the air in victory, but the camera rapidly cut back to the action because the black/red guys were passing to one another near the yellow side goal again.
"Why are you watching the football?" Phoenix asked, a little bemused.
"Shhhh!" Miles was gripping the sides of the armchair, tensely following the passes, and then the ball was booted into the net once more. "KROOS!" Miles uttered a string of German, lifting his hands up high as if beholding a god. "Now another, another, my son!"
Phoenix could do nothing but watch on, forgotten and astonished, as what he now recognised as the Germany vs Brazil World Cup semi final (thanks to the tv screen obligingly revealing this fact) played out - with Miles screaming and yelling at the television like a man possessed, encouraging his team through goal after goal with the promise of first-borns, deifications and goodness knows what else because half of it was in German. Brazil's pathetic attempt at a comeback in the 90th minute was met with a derisive snort, the likes Phoenix had never heard coming from a man whose one difficulty in life was engaging in frivolous activities.
The final klaxon went and Miles was up from his chair in a little victory lap of his own, his hand shooting out to grab a bottle of good vintage wine from the rack on his way around. He stopped in front of Phoenix, looking thoroughly smug.
"I'm pleased you were there to witness that spectacular, inimitable..." Miles trailed off as Phoenix raised a wry eyebrow at him. "What?"
"Miles the football hooligan," Phoenix chuckled. "Damn, I never knew you had it in you."
"I object to your use of the defamatory word 'hooligan'," Miles humphed. "I support my chosen team in a restrained fashion."
"That was restrained?!"
"Well," Miles smirked, opening the bottle of wine, "you should never watch my dear sister during a Germany match. Now, celebrate with me - I'll make a Germany supporter of you yet!"
Phoenix shrugged - it was an excuse to drink some good wine, after all.