Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2026-03-05
Words:
1,127
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
4
Hits:
70

Sting sucks at festival games

Summary:

Sting talks Rogue into going to a festival. It's so much better than he could possibly have imagined.

Work Text:

The Funfair was in full swing as Sting elbowed his way through the crowd, dragging Rogue along behind him.
"Sting, this is a bad idea!", Rogue hissed, shrinking in his cape. "What if someone finds out?"
"No one has to know. We're going to wear disguises."
"That'll never work!"
"Rogue, our style is like, the first thing people recognise about us. If we change our outfits, no one will have a clue who we are.", he said. He lay eyes on a mall and pulled Rogue inside. "I'll make sure we're totally incognito! You trust me, right?"
As he finished, Sting flashed him his most disarming grin. Rogue blushed and finally agreed. So predictable.
They vanished into the crowd. Sting let go of Rogue's hand to grab some clothes. "We're going to look so awesome, trust me."
"I don't care about that. I just want don't want people to know who we are."
"Yes, yes.", Sting said, very aware that he now had a prime excuse to put Rogue in lighter clothing. He swept Rogue off to the changing rooms and pushed him into one with some clothes. "Try these."
Sting, meanwhile quickly got into one of his own. He shimmied out of his clothes and pulled on his new clothes. Mesh undershirt, baggy tanktop red tanktop cut low enough to show his the top of his abs, low hanging skinny jeans and the most fugly sandals he'd ever seen. Sting felt like the sexiest man alive right now.

He stepped out and waited for Rogue, who was being slow. Finally, finally, he got out of the changing and goddamn Sting had made a huge mistake. He'd seen Rogue naked before, sure. But somehow, this was even harder to ignore.
The white tank top was a little too tight and easily visible since he only wore a powder blue cropped hoodie over it. His baggy trouser only went to his knees and had huge pockets where he could put the prizes he would inevitably win. Sting had completed the look with short black boots and black silk socks.
"Didn't they have shorter socks?", Rogue asked, a little grumpily as he pulled his hair out of his face and into a ponytail. Cutie.
"How long are they?"
"That long.", Rogue said, gesturing to the middle of his thigh.
"My bad. But you're wearing them now." Common Sting win.
"Fine. Let's just get going."

Sting quickly paid, and they left the mall. The knowledge that Rogue was currently wearing thigh highs was killing him. He felt like he'd stumbled into a maximum security vault while looking for the bathroom, or walked in on two people hooking up while wandering a hedgemaze. It was awkward, though admittedly exciting.
They blended into the crowd. Vaguely alt teenagers were a dime a dozen here. Sting made for the fair games, smiling as he heard the light tapping of Rogue's boots as he trotted along behind him.
"Don't aim for anything too cumbersome. We won't be able to take it home.", Rogue warned him as he made a beeline for a stand.
"Yeah yeah. Which one do you want?", Sting asked, paying the owner the 500j.
"Just get the one you want.", Rogue said, looking around at the people behind them.
"Fine. We'll see what we can get with the points I'll get. Watch me blow this game out of the water.", he said confidently, grabbing the three bags of sand. Rogue's gaze bored into him as he took aim. He cleared out the top three rows with his first hit. He was that cool.
Unfortunately the second one went too low, hitting the table instead of the tin cans he was going for. Sting attempted a sweeping move for his final toss and was surprised when it went sideways.
"Fuck!"
"Language.", Rogue hissed.
"Frosch isn't here."
"Kids are though."
"Who cares."
"Me."
Sting rolled his eyes and paid for another round. And another when he failed again. After he'd spent nearly 10'000j, Rogue put his foot down and dragged him off to the next stall. This one was probably rigged anyway.

That was when Sting saw it: The coolest lava-lamp ever. "Rogue. I need to win that."
"The lamp? It's pretty nice. I think Frosch would like it."
"No, I want it. You get Frosch a plushie, or something else that won't break when she knocks it over." Rogue looked a little offended that he thought his beloved Frosch would be so clumsy, but he couldn't stay anything because Sting was objectively right.
"Fine.", Rogue said, paying for a round of the game. Five shots. 5 points for a bullseye, three for the middle ring and one for the outer one. The lava lamp needed 23 points. A small plushie was 15 points and a large one was 20. Rogue was handed a rifle and took careful aim.
3, 5, 3, 3, 5. 19. Just shy of a large plushie.
"I'll take the frog one.", Rogue told the lady, handing Sting the gun. He received the small blue frog and made it disappear into his pocket, hidden from the eyes of the public.
"I'm going to knock this game out of the water.", Sting declared. Assuming it wasn't rigged. Careful aim hadn't worked out for Rogue, so he fired on instinct. 3,1,0,0,5. 8 points. "Fu…n. Another round!"
This game was rigged too. Sting even tried Rogue's technique of actually aiming, all for nothing.
"I'll give it another shot.", Rogue said.
"We're wasting money.", Sting admitted.
"You want the lamp, don't you?" Did this idiot just wink at him? Did he realise how stupid he'd look if he failed? Sting was the one who did dumb shit to impress him, not the other way around.
3, 5, 5. Was he actually going to do it? 3, 5. That was enough, right?
"21 points." Plushies were cool too. Sting saw a large, light blue dragon that would fill the lava-lamp shaped void in his heart just fine.
"I can do better.", Rogue insisted as Sting claimed his prize. He had gotten pretty close, so Sting just had to let him try.
5, 5, 5, 5, 5. It took Rogue at least a minute to aim between shots, but he made it. He won the goddamn lamp.
"We got it!!! Woooooooh!", Sting cheered, hugging his new plushie because he knew Rogue wouldn't let him hug him in public, no matter how great their disguises were.
Now 30'000j (plus the cost of clothes) poorer and two kick-ass outfits, two plushies and a lava-lamp richer, Sting and Rogue went to face the greatest challenge of the day: The train ride home. Sneaking the dragon plushie past the master was tomorrow Sting's problem.