Pull Me Like A Bass Drum (Chris)

[Romeo Buckland]

Oh winter, how Romeo hates thee.

Sure winters in Ireland back when he was still with his family was harsh, but at least he was never idle. There’s always something to fix, something to hunt. It was tiring yes, but extremely rewarding too. (Especially since he always out-catches Othello, with his game almost always being bigger and better than his older brother’s). And in the event of a strong snowstorm, being inside wasn’t all too bad either. Grandma Sabina always had tales to tell, and if they get tired of it, the multitude of cousins he had meant that there was no such thing as a boring moment.

Unlike now.

Sure Hammel boasts facilities that he could only dream of – amazing gym equipment, cable TV and vending machines, to name a few – still the boy finds it rather uninteresting. Working out has become quite the routine for him, the TV shows he follows still aren’t back from their midseason hiatus and he’s tasted every treat there is in the vending machines. Most of his friends are busy doing their homework (Romeo’s been so bored that he surprisingly finished his ahead of time) and Lucah’s been extra boring ever since that break-up of his with Stutterfree.

He was slugging his way back to his room when he saw a friend just a few paces in front of him. The recognition made the boy’s face light up, his pace increasing as he ran towards the boy and happily placed both hands on his shoulders with a relatively loud slap.

“Hey fag!” said Romeo with a smirk, “You doing something today? Want to play one-on-one with me in the gym? You know, give you a chance to redeem yourself after that disastrous jumpshot of yours?” Hopefully that would be enough to rile Chris up. If not, well, he can think of other more drastic measures, he hopes.

Anything to stop the boredom from killing him.

[Chris White]

Growing up in Vermont for his whole life, Chris had become rather adjusted to the state's weather during all the seasons of the year. The fact that he usually spent a vast majority of his days outdoors helped as well. Wearing a black pair of athletic shorts, a red jackets, a white t-shirt underneath, and a brand new pair of Nike Air Jordans, Chris walked around campus to find something to do. The last class of the day was canceled because his teacher was sick and no substitute could be found in time, so he was finished with classes early. He planned on possibly going finding somewhere to take a nap, but the sudden appearance of his friend Romeo changed his mind.

"What do you want, queer?" he replied quickly to Romeo's polite introduction. Chris raised an eyebrow at the boy's challenge. "I don't make disastrous jump shots," he mentioned proudly. After shoving Romeo roughly, he began walking toward the gymnasium. Challenge accepted. "Yeah, I'll play you. Try not to cry when you lose you little homo."

It didn't take the two long to arrive at the gym. Chris took off his jacket and grabbed a basketball. He began dribbling it around skillfully before sinking a practice shot from the three point line. "You scared, boy?" he asked as he forcefully passed the ball to Romeo and began stretching (normally, not while using his power). Once he finally felt limbered up, he walked on to the court. "You want to start with the ball or do you want me to score first... as usual..."

Chris was ready for a highly competitive, rough game and willing to do whatever it took to achieve dominance and a victory he could brag about for at least a few weeks. "Bring it on!"

[Romeo Buckland]

No matter what Chris might say, Romeo does consider the older boy his friend. He’s always been amused by the competitiveness running along the boy’s veins (a certain feistiness that’s apparently a trademark White trait, if his little sister’s actions are any indication), and could honestly say that one of the things that keep him on top of his game is exactly that. Chris was never one to fall for the same trick twice, and thus pushes Romeo to think of new things, new tricks and sometimes even cheats, each time.

And there’s no need to state the extreme satisfaction he feels when he defeats the boy. (It only happens once every five times or so, so he revels on it in every chance he gets).

“You know the sight of you all tired and dripping in sweat is a prize enough for me,” grinned the Irish boy, voice dripping with sarcasm as his eye rolled. The shove wasn’t really expected, but thank god he caught himself just in time so as not to trip. Heaven knows Chris won’t let him hear the end of it if he fell. “But if you’re still planning on sending me Kleenex, please do. Unless of course you already used it all up thinking of me, you faggot.”

The way to the gym was, in Romeo’s mind, an unspoken race, so when they finally arrived the boy made such a conscious effort to show Chris that he won. Namely, a loud ‘WAHOO!’ and numerous fist pumps. Fortunately for them no one was using the gym this time of day. Would’ve been a major downer if they’d had to cancel their little game. (At least for Romeo it would be, since it only spells a trip back to boredom-ville for him). “Trembling,” replied Romeo, putting the ball down as he stretched himself. Typical Chris to show off and intimidate him. If he didn’t have an ego currently the size of the Americas (and it’s growing), it most definitely would’ve affected him.

“Well, since you offered,” he shrugged, dribbling the ball as he entered the court. He walked slowly initially, giving Chris a Cheshire grin as he tried to plan his move. Once he saw an opening, he sped up, running to the left in an attempt to do a quick layup. Hopefully his wink would be enough to distract Mr. MVP.

Hopefully.

ooc:
SORRRRRRY IT TOOOK SOOO LONG TYLEEER. D;.
- Jam