"Have in mind? I just meant a round of --"
-- whatever Will was about to say, he loses his focus when Modo grasps his face. Blinking. "Something...naughty?" he repeats. Blinking twice. "I -- no? Just..."
"I -- wait -- what did /you/ have in mind, Modo...?"
β Modo is always playing around! β think he misheard.
β but what did you have in mind little man? β he asked with a curious tilt of his head, dropping down from his hangin position onto all fours before springing up and cupping willβs face with his hands.
βsomething naughty?β
"Hey -- uh. Looking good, man."
Will chuckles out a sheepish sound. Rubbing the back of his head and walking into the shower. This part feels familiar, at least.
He turns the water to the familiar setting -- careful to make sure they don't get blasted by the higher settings.
β
Lot of his scruff , too β not that Tennessee is complaining . Naw , far from it .
Rolling tension from his shoulders , his own athletic form revealing itself as fabric is discarded in exchange for flesh .
Damn good looking raccoon - scars n' all .
β
"Played against some of those too. Pretty big..."
Will hesitates as he reaches down to his shorts. He's showered with the team before -- but not someone he'd only just met. Biting his lower lip, before slipping them.
-- seems most of his curves went to his hips and rear.
β
β β Damn . Suppose that's no surprise , though - don't get a lot of folks their size in the parts I'm from . Biggest we get are the bison . - β
Which are still a pretty decent size , you know .
Soft chuff , slinging off his tanktop .
β
The Thorns have accepted Will a lot more since their big win last season -- but he's still eager to prove himself. Feeling Modo's intense watching, his energy, as he darts his wide vision between him and his game.
"Did you, uh -- you want to play a round, Modo...?"
Willβs focus buys Modoβs, eyes narrowing, arms crossed followed by a nod of approval. He never had a game console of his own, nor really the desire to play, but he canβt help but watch Will. is there anything he isnβt good at?
LOCK IN, WILL.
Will is pretty good at this game, thanks to a lot of sleepless nights playing online with Daryll. The goat is almost as good at virtual Roar Ball as he is at the real deal...!
Click. Click.
Grinning. Will looks focused on the game...
"Well, yeah -- two of the players on the team are a giraffe and a rhino. So just gotta' - make sure you set the shower to the right setting. Or you're gonna' get blasted..."
Will chuckles. Stripping off his jersey. Showing off his thin but athletic form for the other.
β
β β Damn . . . β
Glancing around with a hum , eyes darting from one side of the showers to the other .
β β Are they uh . . . SUPPOSED to have stalls that large , or ? β
Will can feel that gaze going up and down his figure, but he doesn't shy away from it. He's gotten more and more used to a sense of audience -- even with a very different context.
It's not long before they reach the locker room and showers. Will gesturing about. "Here we are."
β
β β Lead the way , Cabro . ~ β
What can he say - Tennessee is a natural born flirt . Can't help that hedonism is his greatest flaw ; he sees a cute man , he wants in that cute man's pants .
Following along , shamelessly eyeing the other up and down with subtle glances.
Will blinks. He might be a professional athlete now, a celebrity in his own right, but -- he's not that used to his flirting going this far. Clearing his throat and nodding.
"Heh..." the goat chuckles. Nodding. "Yeah, cool. Alright -- right this way. Follow me..."
β
Click of tongue against fangs with another stretch , slight dampness of sweat trickling down the dark fur beneath arms . Starting to stand , stretching out legs with a yawn .
β β S'pose you could always start by showin' me to the showers , then , city slicker .~ β
β
"Yeah. I need one of those too. I know I make it look easy out there, on the court, but I worked up a sweat myself..."
Will doesn't know how that sounds at first -- but the mental playback of his own words makes him bleat out a flustered chuckle.
-- but he doesn't take it back.
β
β β Heh , might just take ya up on that offer . β
Sitting up with his own lil' grin , rolling shoulders n' cracking neck with a stretch .
β β . . . After a shower . Don't think I'm in a state to explore the gym , let alone whole city . ~ β
β
"I get it. Vineland's a hectic place, all day and all night, but...it's got a lot of heart, too. Lots of good people, between all that hustle and bustle."
Will grins. "Maybe you just need someone to show you around, who knows this place. Been here my whole life, Tennessee."
β
β β Pfff , I wish . Naw , naw β I'm just visitin' some family before the semester starts up .β
That's Cooper talk for planning a heist , not that Will would know .
β β I don't visit the city none-too-often , too much hustle n' bustle , makes my head hurt y'know ? β
β
"Well...I mean, no I guess, just -- trying to get an idea..."
Will's lips twitch. Not much for small talk, it seems. He's considering calling it a wash, for a moment, before the raccoon confides something.
"Cool. And you're local? Like -- you go to college 'round here?"
β
Stretch of the arms behind head , kicking up a leg β casually relaxing .
β β Mhmmm - does it matter ? β
Blink blink , awkward silence filling the space between them .
β β . . . Math - I'm uh . I'm a math major . . . physics n' engineering , that sort of deal . β
β
Will may be a professional athlete, but there's still a genuineness to him. Someone who hadn't yet been too molded by cynicism or corporate expectations.
-- but even he raises a brow at that.
"Student? Well -- what do you study? You still in school, or...?"
β
Toothy smirk - chipped fangs revealed with playfulness . Judging from the crooked snout of his - he's a bit rough around the edges .
β β Coy ? Pfff , naw , you just didn't ask .
I'm . . . a student . β
Not going to bring up the fact his dad's the RAIL baron . . . -
"No worries. Everyone's got different stuff that gets 'em going, right? This just happens to be mine."
Will tilts his head. Eyes curiously studying over the raccoon. Quirking his lips.
"So -- what's it you do? You're not being coy for an off-the-record interview, right?"
β
β β If you mean PROFESSIONAL sports , hah , sorry β not my thing , friend . β
Some members of his family were about that life, though - a LOT competed in gymnastics on a competition level . Tennessee , though , was the kind of guy that goes with the flow .
β β Sounds ->
"No? Well -- not to brag too much, but you're looking at the newest member of the Vineland Thorns. And, as of last season, current champs of the Roarball League."
Will grins. It sounds strange, even to him, to say all of that.
"Guess you're not much of a sports guy, huh?"
β
β β Haaaaah , cute . Funny enough , no β I'm, from Nevada . β
Another genuine chuckle , legs spread , eyeing over each of the other's features . Hazel eyes are focused - intently focused , in fact .
Purr purr .
β β Will eh ? Never heard of a place called Will m'self. β
"Well -- we make the rules, when it's just the two of us, right?"
Will chuckles. Shrugging his shoulders and walking closer to the stands. Propping his chin on his elbows and looking up at him. He likes what he sees.
"Tennessee? Guess I know where you come from. I'm Will."
β
Tap of the fangs as he watches , rolling a shrug off those broad shoulders .
β β Dunno if that's how it works β but y'know what , sure , I'll roll with it . β
Crossing one leg over the other , wiping sweat from brow with towel .
β β Folks call me Tennessee . You ? β
"Just for you! If you're the whole audience, you get the whole of the attention, right?"
Will grins as the shot goes just as planned. Not that he had any doubts -- not cocky, just confident. Taking another glance at him.
"So..." he says, dribbling a ball, "What's your name?"
β
β β Jus' for me ? Hah , shucks , ain't I special . ~ β
Genuine laugh of amusement across his athletic form ; broad shoulders , decent biceps , a set of legs to KILL for .
Makes it clear he's got some appreciation for the world they're in .
Clapping - loudly .
β
There's a rhythm to what Will does. The shuffle of feet. The swish through the net. The occasional exclamation of pride or satisfaction from his shot.
-- it's not until several minutes in that Will even notices someone else there.
"Oh, sorry! You waiting to shoot, or...?"