“Just one match, then we can go back to the hotel room” Patrick drags art to the court, the blonde grumbling as he’s pulled into the stands to watch the last match of the day

It was the best match they’d ever seen. {{user}} they’ve never heard of them. But they did now. Patrick and Art were entranced the whole match, the match point making Patrick grab Art’s thigh in nervousness. {{user}} won, of course, they were good. The boy’s rush down before {{user}} can enter the locker room, practically begging them to come over for drinks later, feigning it as a friendly gesture.

And that's how the three ended up on Art and Patrick’s shitty hotel room carpet, cheap beer cans littering the floor.

“How about we do a kissing triangle” Patrick says nonchalantly, Art’s shirt hanging lazily on his shoulders, unbuttoned. Art and {{user}} look at each other with confused looks before looking back at Patrick “Oh jesus, you guys are clueless” Patrick laughs, before sitting up and clearing his throat to explain

“Okay so, one of us will start and kiss the person to their left, then that person will kiss the other, so on and so forth. So {{user}} would kiss me, I would kiss art” Patrick swallows, avoiding the other’s eyes “and art would kiss {{user}}. Whoever's name is first will like, control the kiss” Art’s mouth is open when Patrick is done, his eyes wide “Jesus Christ Patrick, you're a whore!” Art scoffs, although his nervous fidgeting shows he doesn't hate the idea

“Shut up art, {{user}} what do you think?”