Any excuse for a party (or what the Super Bowl is about)

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh was not a knowledgable football fan. He was willing to watch it, casually, I it happened to be on and that was what a friend wanted, but he wasn't likely to seek it out, or to keep up with any teams.

The Super Bowl was not like regular football, however. It was more skin to a holiday than a sporting event, a convenient excuse to gather together friends along with copious amounts of beet and snack foods.

Besides, even if one didn't watch the game itself, the ads and the halftime show were a national bonding experience. Not watching those meant being unable to participate in office cooler conversation for weeks to come.

Add to that the emptiness of the house since Bailey had been gone, and Josh wanted to do something.

So he'd proposed a Super Bowl party.

After setting up the snacks with Riley, including his friend's famous cheese dip, onion dip, cheese cubes, and chicken fingers, he had begun greeting people at the door, asking what everyone wanted to drink and escorting them to the living room.

The television was already on, so no fiddling with channels was necessary.

"So who's rooting for which teams? I haven't decided who I should be for yet..."

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan had been more of a football fan in his younger years. Before his accident he'd loved all sports with a passion. Now watching others play just left him feeling nostalgic and a bit jealous. True he still kept up with most sports. It helped that his desk was near the sports writers at work. And also most bars usually had one game or another playing, though there were always far more interesting things to look at in bars than the television.

Still, any excuse to party was good enough for Stefan.

"I'm for the Seahawks myself," Stefan said, gesturing his  seahawks tie. He'd seen it a a story and picked it up for tonight's party. And really the only reason he'd picked them over the other team was he thought the blue went with his eyes well.

"Think anyone's wardrobe will have a malfunction?" he asked. True it had been years since that event, but Stefan still hoped for a repeat.

[Danny Silverman]

Danny was more of the lax watcher type, and was hanging by the snacks, absently examining the clay under his nails. One day he'd be able to get it out, but as he'd been hosting more art classes the day before, he doubted it would be any time soon. He'd been focusing more on his art classes than models these days. It was too hard to ship the models and while he still had a steady income from people ordering them online, he was doing it less and focusing on teaching more. He'd have to focus on his retirement after all. He put the money from his models into his retirement fund and used the art classes to keep everything else afloat.

He smiled at Stefan at his statement, then looked over at Josh. "I dunno," he admitted, reaching a hand for the snacks, then checking himself. Time to wait, right? There was plenty of time--it was a long game. "I was thinking Seahawks--they were on my side of the continent, after all." He suspected Stefan had chosen the tie just to go with his eyes, but didn't say anything. He was dressed in intentionally neutral colored clothes--a plain black leather jacket over a white t-shirt with jeans. With his hair it made him look more like Elvis than ever, but he didn't mind.

[Josef Muller]

Josef, on the other hand, was a football nut. He'd warned Josh of this when he was invited. Although his team--the Kansas City Chiefs--hadn't made it even close to the Super Bowl in years, Josef always picked a team and supported them with the loyalty of a true player and the volume of a fanatic. Josh had said he didn't mind. But Josef was determined to behave himself and be, if not quiet, at least polite and clean about his shouting. He'd given Damien a warning about it as well before they'd arrived.

When Josef came in, his eyes instantly moved toward the screen, and although it was clear he was trying really, really hard to interact and say hello to everyone, the man promptly wound up on the couch, watching intensively.

"Broncos," he called back. "At least they're close to my hometown. I promise I won't cuss you out too much, Stefan." He offered the other man a wave, but his eyes didn't move from the screen. Yeah, that probably won't happen.

[Mike Batista]

Though he'd been told not to bring anything, Mike still brought a bottle of white wine and a jar of extra hot salsa to the game party. He was indifferent to football - his sports of choice were basketball and baseball - but there was something amusing about how the Super Bowl took four 15-minute quarters and stretched it into a four to five hour affair where the ads were more important to a majority of the viewers than the actual game.

Taking a spot near Stefan, he shrugged. "I'll cheer for everyone," he chuckled, "though if I have to choose a side I'll pick the 'Hawks since they haven't won a Super Bowl yet."

If anyone was going to have a wardrobe malfunction during the game, it was Stefan, but Mike didn't say that. The Chargers had never won a Bowl either, but Julio had said they'd come closer this year than they had in awhile. Since he figured the house would get a bit warm with all the bodies, Mike had dressed in a longsleeved shirt and a hoodie, as the kids called them. After watching Josef lose himself in the TV screen, he stood up to get a soda and held his hand out to one of the men he didn't know, the guy in the glasses and leather jacket. With a smile he introduced himself. "Hey. I'm Mike Batista. I don't think we've met. I'm a trainer at Hammel."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Unlike his partner, Sean was a football fan, enough to root for a team. He wasn’t a super fan; he didn’t go to games in any memorabilia, and he certainly didn’t paint his face. If asked, he would admit that baseball was his favorite sport, and the high incidence of concussions and brain damage in football concerned him. Still, the Super Bowl was an event! One that he had shared with his family, back when he had lived in New York and one that he enjoyed sharing with friends in Vermont.

Except for the Super Bowl of 2011, although he chose not to muse on that. Let it never be mentioned again, even if he would also not forget it.

Hosting a Super Bowl party was an excuse to spend time with friends while still maintaining the comfort of his own home. He’d helped to set up, and he had been enlisted for driving errands, including food pick up; he hadn’t minded. Now, however, he was in for the afternoon and evening, which meant that he could drink and relax.

Of his cooking, much of it had been changed just enough to qualify as low sodium, for Josh’s blood pressure. He didn’t think it made a difference in taste, but he also wouldn’t announce it.

To Stefan’s question, he answered, “No.” Short and to the point.

Then he crossed to the bar. “Can I fix anyone anything?”

He planned on having a cocktail, and he wanted to offer the ability to his guests. Even if beer was more traditional.

To Josh, he said, “Do you want to root for offense? Or for defense?” That made the difference.

[Damien Tremblay]

Damien was not a great fan of football. In all honesty, the whole thing confused him, and he’d long since given up trying to understand it. Though he didn’t mind Josef watching it at home, because he could share, he still had no better hold on the game. Even if his boyfriend had tried to help him understand it. Just... not while the game was actually going. Which was fine. Damien tended to just find other things to do while Josef was glued to the television.

He’d heeded the warning he’d been given about the yelling, and planned to stay out of it as best he could. This was proved as he moved straight from the door to the kitchen, where he hoped the less diehard fans were gathered. Thankfully, he knew most of the people here, even if it was just in passing, which made him relax a great deal. As for sides... “I might have to go with the Seahawks, just because of the name. ... No one tell Josef.” Not that he really thought his boyfriend would care. ... Much. Hopefully that didn’t result in a fight later on. He didn’t know just how vicious rivalries got over the Super Bowl. It was such an American thing. At least he wouldn’t stoop to taunting if Josef’s team lost.

“Do you have any wine, Sean?” This was his response to the question posed by the older man. Damien had never been a huge fan of beer, regardless of tradition. Speaking of. “... And maybe a beer for Josef?”

[Stefan Spencer]

"Cuss away if you feel the need, handsome. I'm a big boy. I can handle it," Stefan said with a chuckle. It helped that he wasn't as serious about his team as Josef seemed to be so he wouldn't take much offense.

Stefan beamed as Mike walked in, opening his arms up for a bro hug. "How's my snuggle buddy?" he asked, referring to the bits and pieces he could remember from New Year's.

His smile faded at Sean's blunt response, still he would be hoping for something to happen. A man's gotta have his dreams after all. And though Stefan still considered Sean to be a close friend, he was worried that their friendship had started to crumble a bit ever since their coffee shop chat. Still, offers for drinks were a way to fix that. "I'll take a scotch if you're offering," he said.

"Don't worry," Stefan offered to Damien. "I doubt he'll notice." He pointed to Josef and the man's obvious devotion to the screen in front of him.

[Joshua Bernstein]

The Big Game, it turned out, was not terrifically exciting, unless one counted Josef's reaction to the dreadful playing his chosen team did. Josh rarely wished for the end of his excuse to party, but in this instance it was a relief when the game was finally over.

Poor Broncos. That was embarrassing just watching.

"Wow. Ahhh..." Should he comment on the game? Or would that be cruel? The attorney glanced over at Josef, and then heaved his shoulders. "Did everyone thank Riley and Sean for the snacks?" He asked, waving vaguely in the direction of the two taller men. "They did a bang up job, I'd say."

[Josef Muller]

The game did not do well, and Josef may or may not have been depressed about it.

Okay, he was totally depressed. Every time the Seahawks scored, Josef took another drink. And by the second half of the show, he’d switched to something stronger. It wasn’t that he was that much of a Broncos fan, it was just that it was never, ever, EVER fun to watch a team you liked lose so very, very badly. The plus was that Josef generally wasn’t an unhappy drunk, so he was giggling slightly by the end of the game and didn’t seem too upset.

“Yup,” he said, “very good, even if the game was awful. Thanks Riley and Sean!” He swayed slightly, then rubbed his forehead. “Miiiight’ve had a little too much to drink. Everything’s a little fuzzy ‘round the…” he lost track to boo one of the commentators as they came up to talk about the game.

Yup. Totally handling this well.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The Super Bowl game had been nothing short of painful. The immediate error cost the Broncos the game, both because of the loss of points but also the psychological factors. An error that quickly was nearly impossible to recover from, because it undermined team confidence and cohesion. From there, the game was a slaughter, and there was no tension in the air. The Broncos lost the game within twenty seconds, and all of the later points scored by the Seahawks and eventually the few points the Broncos managed to put on the board, were icing on the already prepared cake, nothing more.

Throughout the game, Sean considered himself fortunate that he didn’t have emotional investment in this game. His mind had wandered to other matters, particularly during Josef’s increasingly drunken and forlorn outbursts.

Perhaps next year would be better.

Although anyone who had predicted this outcome and had managed to wager on it would end the day with a tidy sum.

“Speaking of food,” the telepath announced, as he took the hint from his partner and rose from the sofa, “Can I get anyone anything?”

Josef would have to go home in a taxi cab, or else he could crash here for the night. The younger man was in no condition to drive. Not that Sean could blame him.

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan had rather enjoyed the game. Although it was mostly because it gave him an excuse to get out and drink with his friends. He hadn't actually payed much attention to what was happening on screen, instead choosing to people watch and occasionally through out a one-liner or pick-up line/football pun when needed. He'd also matched Josef drink for drink, and them some, but only because he thought the younger man was playing some sort of drinking game. Even though he wasn't exactly sure of the rules of Josef's drinking game, he had done his best to keep up.

"Good game guys," Stefan said, teetering a little as he stood to pat Josef on the back. "Maybe next time, handsome."

"I'm good on snacks, plenty of eye candy too," Stefan said, giving first Riley and then Sean a wink. "Though I could use a refill, if you're offering."