fandomhigh | Fandom High School Host Club, Sunday Afternoon

Fandom High School Host Club, Sunday Afternoon

If there was anything special about this particular day, Reno certainly didn't have any idea as he busied himself in the music room, setting up his newest acquisitions.

A poker table had taken the place of the desk that had been in the Barney Corner, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall, and, where the tables for the hosts were normally situated, Reno had set up a big, shiny, brand new pool table.

If the hosts wanted their old furniture back, it was all shuffled up against a wall. They were more than welcome to drag their chairs and desks back if they so desired.

Just meant they were going to have to move the liquid-that-was-quite-possibly-beer-but-ssh off of them first, is all.

Reno had even ~~handwavily~~ put signs up around the campus.

Fandom High School Host Club
Come in, Grab a Host, Kick Ass at Pool, Yo!

The door was open!

[OCD ~~coming~~ up! Open to everyone!]

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"You should have gotten it, if you had hit the ball a little more off-center to get the spin," Romeo said quietly. He'd been playing pool almost every night for four months, he had figured things like that out.

Even if this was not his game.

"I will try for the three again," he said, and got it. Showing off a little, he held the cue behind his back and said, "Five."

That did not work so well, and he stepped aside, pouting, to give Reno his turn.

"It's not a party at all without drinks, so I thank you for your generosity."

"Eleven, yo," Reno decided, heading off to the other side of the table. Stupid fifteen, anyhow. He didn't care if it ever went down. Hah. "Nothin' like a few rounds at Caritas to make the whole evening worthwhile, right, man?"

He missed the eleven and stuck out his tongue at the table. Clearly, it was the table's fault.

"I can think of a few better ways to cap one's night," Romeo said, with a raised eyebrow. "But in public, the drinks will serve."

"Six," he added, and would have gotten it if his hand hadn't slipped. Really. He pushed his hair back, exasperated, as he stepped away from the table.

"Looks like we're both on a roll here, zoto." Reno tapped the butt of his cue against his chin again, eying the table. "Twelve."

He managed, somehow, to get that one in. "And fifteen. I'm not gonna rest until I get freakin' fifteen."

Looked like Reno wasn't going to rest any time soon. He stepped back from the table and rolled his eyes.

"The booze is a good start on makin' the evening worthwhile, anyhow," he clarified.

Romeo nodded his agreement and lined up the cue. "Seven and four," he said, and landed both, though the four was a near thing; it bounced off a side an extra time and put the five dangerously close to teetering in as well. "Speaking of things that make nights worthwhile, how is Rikku? I haven't seen her since class Thursday, and we were too preoccupied by the babies to talk."

Which reminded him he still had custody of Reynaldo, and he gave the doll a guilty glance.

"Rikku?" Reno leaned forward to get a good look at the table. Some nice potential setups there, if the layout didn't change too much after Romeo's next turn. "Rikku's good, yo."

Was that a mischievous grin? Why yes. Yes it was. "Real good."

That sounded like the kind of "real good" that Romeo didn't actually need to have more information about, if it concerned one of his best friends who he mostly tried not to picture naked.

So he just grinned back at Reno. "Good to hear that she is ... good. And I will take the five, this time."

He made the shot, finally, and had only the eight ball left. "Eight," he said, and proceeded to ... spectacularly miss.

Reno leaned back and grinned.

"You called it and missed, man. You wanna play on until someone sinks it, or is that a lose?"

It was important to know these things.

Romeo appraised the table; he thought he could make it before Reno did. "Play on," he answered, crossing his arms in determination. He could do this.

"Fine by me, yo. Fifteen's gonna be my bitch if it kills me."

At long, long last, fifteen was indeed made into Reno's bitch. It was a wonderful moment. He might have hummed his victory theme. It was a thing. "Ten and eleven, yo."

Well. The eleven went down, at least. That was something, right?

"Eight," Romeo said, and the squint on his face almost dared the ball not to comply. He gave it an exacting hit.

...and, this time, it complied, tapping lightly into the ten but not sending it too far off-course before the eight danced into a pocket.

Romeo let out a not very dignified whoop.

To which Reno responded with a laugh as he grabbed his beer and hoisted it into the air.

"Way to kick my ass on my own table, man," he congratulated him. "Looks like I got some brushing up to do, yo."

"This and drinking are almost all I did for four months," Romeo said, still grinning triumphantly. "It made me much better than I used to be."

"but we should play a rematch later."

"Damn straight, we're playin' a rematch later," Reno agreed, finishing off his beer. "I'm not gonna let you off the hook so easy, man."

"I will beat you again anytime." Romeo tossed off a friendly salute and wandered away to find beer.

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Fandom High School Host Club, Sunday Afternoon

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