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“Rocket, isn’t this fun?”
He’d done it! Sword convinced Rocket to watch the World Cup with him! Different teams aside, he enjoyed watching it with his best friend.
Not so much so when Rocket was only glaring at the screen, seemingly too intensely focused on the game for Sword’s liking.
“Very,” the boy grumbled back, hands on his knees and fully posed up to stare at the screen.
An immediate missed penalty. Sword would’ve continued talking, grabbing at the popcorn he’d brought with a big smile.
He didn’t even know much of what was happening, watching them restart the play before deciding to talk again:
“Look at Haaland, Rocket. Just too cool.”
Nobody had scored by halftime.
That was fine, though!
Sword wasn’t too focused on the sub-ins until seeing Rocket’s little smile upon seeing Neymar. That was the happiest he’d seen him the whole night leading up to the match.
Sword gave one, long and fake yawn as he stretched his arms out, paying more partial attention to the game while trying to put his arm around Rocket’s shoulder.
“What the phuck?”
Oh, and the mood was ruined immediately by Norway scoring.
Sword gave his cheer, but in the same instant he did, his arm was pushed off of Rocket's shoulders. Haaland was just too good! He was smiling more, but there was a big difference between the two of them.
“Haaland’s so good,” he mumbled, adjusting his jersey to pretend he wasn’t hurt by the shove off.
“Sword. Quiet.”
That was the sound of Rocket’s temper acting up.
Yikes!
Sword did his fake yawn again after five minutes, figuring he’d cooled down the other enough for it. Arm right around his shoulders, again, pulling him closer and getting comfortable.
Rocket wasn’t saying anything, in fact, he looked settled in!
But, as all good things do, that quickly ended.
Sword moved his arm off to cheer again, grinning all big. Haaland scored twice! Twice for the team! It was a 2-0 lead!
“Sword.”
What was that?
“Look at Haaland!” Even the commentator was impressed, and he’d partially assumed Rocket would be the same.
“Shut up.”
“Ehe,” he gave an awkward laugh, only partially remembering this was meant to be competitive.
“Brazil’s goalkeeper has been really good, though!”
That didn’t help. He didn’t really know how else to, seeing his team had a lead. Still, it was a really good match so far.
Neymar got a yellow card.
Rocket looked like he’d kill someone, and instead of continuing his little yawns, Sword found himself scooting closer to the end of the couch.
“Hey— Look, he scored!” Sword was trying to cheer with him, with a sheepish expression on his face. There was a smaller rate they’d win.
The referee blew the whistle.
“Good game, am I right?”
For someone who was his best friend, Sword found himself weighing the rates of Rocket jumping on him within the next five minutes.
Right now, he was just staring at the television, blank expression.
“Right?”
Rocket looked over at him.
“Venom— Venom, Venom!”
And, he was being jumped on.