WHO: Seth Wadcock, Matt Summerby, and Odette Boot
WHAT: Seth takes Matt out for some drinks, things go in a way. lmao
WHERE: English bar in NYC?!
WHEN: Last weekend before the elimination matches!



Seth couldn’t be in a happier mood. Leaving group stage only trailing Ireland by 60 points was a fantastic start to the world cup. He felt like he was on top world, and life was only getting better. The only thorn in his side at the moment was Michal, but he was determined to sort that out later. When he came down from his high of finishing so well in groups. First celebrating. Going to talk to his friend right after he didn’t make it out of group stages probably wouldn’t be the best idea. Not if he was already annoyed at his engagement.

Leaving his hotel room he caught sight of one of his teammates going back to his room. Which was rather unacceptable, as Seth was almost certain that he ditched team celebrations early last time to spend time with his girlfriend. That was whole other subject Seth had a desire to prod Matthew about. Dating Delilah Spinnet, which was intriguing, not only because she never gave him the time of day, but she had apparently dated his brother for quite some time. Seth may have grown a lot in the past few years, but that didn’t really quench his thirst for gossip. What a strange Gryffindor she must be, going from dating Slytherins to Hufflepuffs.

“Oi, Summerby!” He called making his way over to the seeker, leaning against the door jam. “I know you aren’t calling it quits already, I still owe you a drink for grabbing that snitch from right under the American’s nose. Team bonding. Wendy has already found us a pub to take over.”

Matt’s eyebrows rose, “A Wendy conquered pub? That should be interesting…”

He shifted from foot to foot, though, nervous. Even though he had taken some time to spend with Delilah, Matt had kept to his predetermined schedule. Which had been hard, as his girlfriend had been very excitable and kissable, but he’d managed. So--ducking out of celebrations had not only been to be with her, but to keep his mind in its proper place. He’d almost completely lost it after their first match loss (retching in the back of the locker room had not been a good look), and even after their two wins he was still feeling very superstitious (retching in the back of a locker room was still not a good look).

But...team bonding. Team bonding. Team bonding was supposed to be good, right? Matt frowned at his internal thought process, wondering if team bonding with Seth Wadcock could actually end well.

“My trainer’s got me on a strict schedule…” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward his room. “Want me to keep grabbing those snitches….er, right?”

Seth rolled his eyes. If anyone knew about strict schedules, it was him. Henry had been an outright dictator when he first took over running his life. What Matthew needed was a good night out to unwind, schedule be damned. Not that he would ever tell the seeker, but his unfortunate post-game ritual had not gone completely unnoticed. It was his first time playing at this level, and Seth could understand the pressure that they guy must have been feeling, but he needed to learn how to let it go before he imploded.

“I’m sure you won’t lose any skills after a pint or two. If that were true, I wouldn’t have made it past my first year on the United.” Though to be fair, Seth wasn’t quite sure how he survived his first two years in Puddlemere, but that really wasn’t the point he was trying to make. The point was everyone needed a constructive outlet for their nerves.

“You made time for the pretty Spinnet, you can make time for the team. It’s a required part of the world cup. What’s the worst that could---actually no, forget I said that. That’s what Michal said in Istanbul and look where that landed us.” Seth couldn’t help but grin at the look that crossed his teammates face at the mention of it. “That was a joke. Mostly. Anyways, Wendy is running the show, so most likely will sit around and drink and gossip.”

It was hard for Matt not to blanch at the reminder of Seth and the Falcons’ Euro Cup troubles. The last thing he needed was to end up in prison, but...none of the other Falcons were in the vicinity, he was pretty sure. And if Wendy was running the show...that only meant they’d probably get kicked out before last call, not arrested. Matt frowned, but then finally nodded. Maybe deviating from his routine would help his nerves. He’d never felt more wound up in his life, a drink could probably loosen up all his ridiculously tense muscles.

“Yeah, all right,” he said, managing a real grin.

The whole world of professional quidditch was still...Matt often had to pinch himself before a practice, or after an interview, or when he realized that he actually could afford that new broomstick he’d been eyeing. He still felt like a fish out of water, so maybe making time for the most important team he’d been apart of would help that.

“But I’ve got to be in by midnight,” he said, zipping up his coat with a pointed look at Seth.

Seth just grinned checking his watch before swinging his arm around his shoulder. He had three hours to work with and that was more than enough time. “Sure thing, I won’t let you turn into a pumpkin.”

Turns out, Seth didn’t even need the whole three hours. He didn’t even really need two as it seemed that Summerby was much more of a lightweight than his brother was. After making the rounds, Seth settled into the seat that Wendy had just vacated. “You already look a hundred times better and its only been a hour and a half,” he set another drink in front of the seeker taking a sip of his own. He looked around the bar lounged in his seat. This had to be his favorite part of playing for England. Going out and having a good time like only the English knew how.

And now that Matt was looking a bit more comfortable in his skin, Seth felt comfortable enough to pry. Team bonding, asking personal questions, all the same thing really. “So, you and girlie Spinnet. How that happen?” He propped his chin in his hand. He didn’t know much about his teammate, and his girlfriend seemed like a neutral enough topic to start on. “She is Irish you know, what’s gonna happen when it comes down to us and them?”

Matt had a really hard time saying no to his friends. Teammates! Were they the same thing as friends? He was going to say yes! They’d all seemed very keen on getting him to loosen up, or at least ‘being able to open his mouth without getting sick.’

Not sure if that last shot would actually give him that ability, but. Matt had taken it like a champ.

“ENGLAND FOR THE CUP!” he roared, raising his glass at Seth’s question and clambering up on his seat. The group around them roared, as they had been for the past few hours. Matt revved them on with a few raises of his free hand, his beer sloshing out of the other glass and to the floor. He dropped unceremoniously back into the stool, managing to stay atop of it as it teetered for a worrisome few seconds. Matt dropped the mug back on the counter and let his forearms rest on either side, grinning widely at Seth.

“She’s gonna be really sad,” Matt said, somehow managing to get back to the topic at hand, “When you’re Irish, you’re Irish and Irish it is and they’re gonna lose anyway.” He shook his head, and it felt like a screw had come loose in his neck as his head wobbled back and forth a bit too much. He shrugged, “Whoops!”

Seth’s grin grew the more Matt spoke. There was something about corrupting the quiet ones that warmed his heart a little. Seth propped his foot up on the bottom rung of the stool, helping to prevent Matt from toppling over.

“I’m sure you will figure out some way to cheer her up.” Seth commented with a suggestive smile. Lucky for him, his fiance was also English so he had no worries about country rivalries. Except when Carys got started, but she was Welsh and he couldn’t really expect anything else from that one.

“I have to say I’m impressed, you’ve caught yourself quite the flighty bird. Careful, her and her beaus tend to end up in the rags quite a bit. Wouldn’t want to mess with your sparkling reputation.” Seth could only imagine seeing the quiet Hufflepuff on the front cover of the Tattler. He wasn’t quite sure how Matt would handle having his love life painted for the world to see, though he had the feeling it would still be with more poise than he had himself. “Magnet for gossip that one. Henry complains about it nearly as much as he complains about me.”

Matt shook his head. He and Delilah were not going to be in the rags, because they didn’t do things that deserved to be in the rag. He leaned forward, shaking his head with a smug, smug look on his face.

“We haven’t even shagged,” Matt said, eyebrows high. Ha! “and that’s what gets people into the those ruddy mags, so.”

He went back to his drink, taking a much longer gulp than he’d anticipated, nearly choking on the beer. What was Seth trying to do, anyway? Bringing up Delilah’s past as if he actually knew her. What kind of bloke, what kind of friend did that? Matt frowned, but decided that he was far too drunk to attempt any sort of real conversation with his teammate. He was just going to shrug it off and forget Seth even said anything in the morning.

“Don’t talk about her anymore,” he blurted, turning too quickly toward Seth and slipping off the stool. There went his plan to completely ignore the ridiculous conversation. Matt landed without too much of a struggle, but he leaned against the bar counter and pointed a stiff finger at Seth, glowering, “Keep my girl’s name out of your mouth, got it?”

Seth blinked at the unexpected information, they hadn’t even, “You haven’t even shagged?” It was dumb to repeat it, especially now that Matt was was telling him off in a fashion he was all too familiar with. See he’d fit in quite well after all, he had a backbone when prodded. Holding up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I won’t say another word, promise.” Seth really didn't mean to be rude, a poor attempt at a word of caution at best. He had never been known for his tact.

He should stop while he was ahead, but he really couldn’t wrap his head around the fact Matt had let slip. He was sure they had been together for months now. And somehow that seemed shocking, even if everything he knew was admittedly second hand. “I’m sorry, but really? She followed you all the way to New York and you haven’t even-- OW! Oi let go!”

“I will not!” Odette shot back automatically, and wrenched Seth’s ear between her fingers further. What, exactly, was going on here? A publically inebriated Matthew Summerby? Mere days before elimination rounds? Slouched at a pub next to Seth Wadcock? Had the world gone mad?!

She let out a sound of disgust, and quickly tugged Seth further out of his seat and away from her friend. She should cleave his bloody ear right off for whatever it was that he had been doing to Matt (for, this was Seth and Odette had only ever witnessed Matt drunk by other’s hands), but really, his own teammate? She really didn’t need to know much, only observe the picture before her briefly.

Which was exactly what she had done. England wasn’t the only team allowed to go out, yet seemingly the only one that had decided to say in one place the entire night.

And, she had to note, stayed significantly (and responsibility) sober compared to their English counterparts.

“Not until you tell me what it is you think you’re doing to Matt!” Oh, that was a fine idea, send your Seeker into a hangover of a lifetime the day before the biggest match of his budding career! Bloody brilliant! She wiggled her grip on Seth’s ear, hoping that would make it hurt more.

“ODETTE!” Matt let out in what he hoped was a manly shriek. His arms flew up in excitement at the sight of one of his absolutely best friends from childhood. He and Odette, they went way back. Like, way, way back. Like---forever, almost. “ODETTE, you’re not English!!”

After he came to terms that his very not-English friend was in the very English bar, Matt took it upon himself to answer Odette’s question, though there was still a bit of spite lingering in him. Matt quickly shot his hand forward (world class seeker, thankyouverymuch) and grabbed Seth’s other ear, tugging it in a not-so-kind fashion.

“Team bonding!” Matt exclaimed, pulling a face at Seth that was a mockery of how happy he should’ve been in the moment. “Ain’t that right Seth?”

Matt let go of his teammate’s ear, urged on by a quickly brewing chanting that was going on throughout the pub. These people never let up! He pushed himself up on the counter to raise an arm in victory, “ENGLAND FOR THE CUP!”

And then he lost his balance and slipped to the ground, his chin narrowly missing the counter. What a right crack that would’ve been.

Everything escalated so quickly. Seth had barely processed that it was Odette MacFarlan tugging on his ear demanding answers to questions that were none of her business before Summerby was pulling on his other. Finally able to swat Odette off of him, Seth was able to turn just in time to see Matt lose his balance and grace the floor.

Seth clambered out of his own seat to help drag Matt up to his feet. “I bought him two beers.” He stated very clearly looking up to Odette before she could even say another word. He really didn’t feel like dealing with whatever judgemental scenarios she was coming up with in her head. “The shots were someone else’s idea, and I did warn him.”

Though to be fair, Seth’s version of a warning was basically the same as not stopping him. Once he was confident that his teammate wasn’t going to fall off his stool again, Seth took a step back folding his arms defensively across his chest. He hadn’t spoken to Odette in years, couldn’t even remember the last time they were in the same room together.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t English. Is there a reason you are here bothering me now?”

“You?” she echoed, feeling incredulous. Halfway through propping her shoulder under Matt’s arm, Odette looked up and glared at Seth. Yes, the whole reason she had come to this country, this bar, on this night, was to bother Seth at this very moment. Completely the sole purpose. Absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that her teammates were still hovering by the door, nor the drunken, prone to anxiety-fits childhood friend hanging on her shoulder blabbering on about how she wasn’t English!

“It’s a wonder you make it past the mirror in the morning isn’t it Seth!” Odette snapped. And for good measure, rolled her eyes before turning her back to face Matt directly. Grabbing his jaw with her free hand, she directed his face at hers (as, it seemed, his interests had wandered the louder the English changing got). Brow shooting up high, she pinched his skin to get his attention.

“Matt won’t you go on a walk with me? I have something to show you!” Her words dripped with feigned enthusiasm, but luckily such a tone was not usually recognizable by most drunks. She smiled, and nodded her head semi-convincingly.

“A walk sounds like a great idea!” Matt exclaimed. Everything seemed like a great idea! He quickly reached out (those seeker reflexes!) and pinched Seth’s cheek in an adoring fashion, “See you tomorrow!”

He was lucky Odette had a good grip on him because he almost made his way into the women’s loo. There was a bit of cheering and high-fiving as they pushed through the crowd of the bar, and the cold night air hit him so hard that Matt let out a holler of surprise. Matt turned to Odette and kissed her cheek sloppily before leading the charge towards the most delcious of smells. This city most certainly did not sleep---ever!

“I need a hot dog---let’s get a hot dog!”