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“You think I wanted to do this? I didn’t want to do this.”
They’re in a rusty, old pub in the central square of Prague. They’re here for an international friendly; they’re actually here for much more.
“I know you didn’t. But...”
David Villa orders his third drink of the night. He’s a slow drinker, takes the time to enjoy his alcohol, unlike Cesc, who is more than happy to gulp down four mugs of beer in less than an hour. Who knows, that kid is crazy.
“Forget it.” Cesc smiles, takes a gulp of his awfully big dose of beer. The Czech are pretty crazy about drinking, he thinks (also the light and the alcohol make David’s eyes look like stars at night, shining, pretty, he muses, maybe he is crazy).
"I don’t want to forget you, either.” David’s obviously drunk. “We have so much time. Really. Three days are an eternity. For us. And I always wanted to come here.”
“Yes”, Cesc says, looking up from his plastic glass. His eyes are puffy and glitter like a lighthouse. David knows what he’s going to say next, and instantly agrees before Cesc even opens his mouth. “So let’s make the most out of it.”
He doesn’t dare kiss him, because they might be seen, in spite of the funny hats and all. But he wants to. So they just share the most belly-aching fit of laughter they've had in a long time as the tickling fight starts.