One Night Stand

Realization

Uploaded: 12/6/2019

Re-uploaded: 2/28/2021

Type was trying not to show it, but he was really reaching his limit on the forced rest and limited movement. After two weeks of doing little other than going to classes and watching movies in his dorm room with his friends, he was more than ready to sneak out against everyone's wishes.

It was a practice day. Type was careful not to be seen by any of the guys on the team, nor by his friends that didn't play football, and made his way to the field as fast as he could without ripping his stitches. After all, ripping them out the day before he was set to get the ones on his arms and torso removed would be a stupid move on his part, since the ripped ones would then be replaced and he'd have to keep them in even longer. The ones on his legs were scheduled to be removed the next week.

He settled up at the top of the stands, wanting a view of the whole field. To his surprise, Tin came up the stands, along with Pete following after him, and chose to sit next to him. Pete sat on his other side, giving Type a shy smile before giving the field his full attention.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting in your dorm, P'Type?" Tin asked casually.

Type shot the other a dirty look he didn't react to. "I'm sick of resting. Besides, I get the majority of my stitches out tomorrow, anyway."

Tin peered at the bandage still covering the right side of Type's neck. "I thought stitches on the neck were removed about a week after? How come you still have them?"

"The gash there was really deep," Type said, keeping the truth about the gash a secret. "They wanted to make sure it wouldn't open up again and keep bleeding."

Tin nodded. "That makes sense. Are you feeling any better now?"

"Some. My joints feel a little stiff, but that's mostly from not moving around as much as I'm used to."

Pete joined the conversation with, "Was it painful? Getting the stitches."

"No," Type smirked. "I was unconscious at the time, so I didn't feel a thing."

"Type!"

The three guys turned their attention to the field. Techno stood at the base of the stands, hands on his hips, expression disapproving. Type merely waved sassily at him, the smirk morphing into a satisfied smile.

"You're not supposed to be here!" Techno said, resigned and annoyed.

Type shrugged. "Too bad. I am here, so deal with it."

Techno made a face. "Type-"

"P'Type!" Can interrupted Techno, dashing up the stand steps. "Did you come to watch us?? Do you feel any better?"

Type mentally shook his head at Can's energy. "Yeah, I'm here to make sure Techno doesn't go too easy on you slackers. And yes, I'm a lot better, thanks."

"I'm not a slacker!"

"No, you're just a hyperactive monkey," Type teased.

Can pouted at him. "P'Type..."

"Get back to practice, Can."

Techno passed Can, on the way up to talk to Type. Can smiled cheerfully at Techno before continuing scampering down the stairs, rejoining the other boys on the field. Techno folded his arms, looking down at Type.

"Did you rip any stitches?"

Type rolled his eyes. "No, dad, I didn't."

"Hey, I'm just making sure you don't get hurt worse than you already were," Techno sighed. "It was...ugh, I can't even describe it."