*Russ calls by Will's dad's pub, and asks for Will. Will's not there, so Russ leaves a message with one of the bar staff, to say that he'll try again tomorrow.*
"Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun. Do you have pool tables where you live?" Now he does smile, feeling better that there will at least be some way to visit.
Russ gets up to put some money in the pool table and pick up a cue from the rack against the wall. "You still have the advantage over me, I reckon," he says with a grin. "But I promise I'll go easy."
Will almost sticks his tongue out, then remembers they're in public. "Sure, play Mr. Nice Guy. It's not going to work on me. I know the truth." He gets a cue for himself. "If I'd known you were going to want to do this I would have brought the one you gave me."
Russ smirks, rolls up his sleeves and leans over the table, resting the cue on the stump of his right arm. He takes the break hard; balls scoot all over the table and only when they come to rest is it apparent that he's potted one. His next shot pots another, but a miscalculation leaves his cue-ball in a difficult position and the third shot misses. He looks at Will. "Your turn, you're on stripes."
Nodding, Will resets the balls (mun hopes that is what he should do) and takes a shot, but he's horribly out of practice even though he tries to use everything he learned before, and the balls just bounce around without any pots. "Damn it."
Russ chuckles. "You weren't looking," he says. He sets down his cue and returns all the balls back to where they were at the beginning of Will's turn. "Strictly cheating, but try that again. Now, stand here," he points to where Will should stand. "Now, take a look again, and remember what I said about angles." He points across the table to illustrate, his finger tracing a line from the cue ball to a coloured one, then to the cusion, and across into one of the centre pockets. "Try that one. And a little more slowly this time."
"Okay." Embarrassed, Will carefully tries again, remembering what Russ said, focusing on the ball he indicates. With a deep breath he shoots, and to his relief sinks his intended ball. "How was that?"
"Much better," Russ says with a grin, though he's paying less attention to the table than he is to the way Will's ass looks in his tight jeans as he bends over to take his shot. He gives a cough and draws his attention back to the game.
"Now for your next shot, try for the yellow one," he points to the ball resting alongside a cushion. "If you strike it here, gently, it'll roll straight into that corner pocket. Too hard and it'll bounce out this way." He steps aside and tries very hard to focus on the game.
Will is too distracted by the pool game to notice Russ's apparent attraction to him, but if he were paying attention he most certainly would, even though it's been a long time since anyone who wasn't Orlando has done that.
He aims for the yellow ball, and sure enough it does as Russ said it would. Will straightens and turns to him with a grin. "Guess I'm not quite as bad as I thought I was."
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Russ chuckles. "You weren't looking," he says. He sets down his cue and returns all the balls back to where they were at the beginning of Will's turn. "Strictly cheating, but try that again. Now, stand here," he points to where Will should stand. "Now, take a look again, and remember what I said about angles." He points across the table to illustrate, his finger tracing a line from the cue ball to a coloured one, then to the cusion, and across into one of the centre pockets. "Try that one. And a little more slowly this time."
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"Okay." Embarrassed, Will carefully tries again, remembering what Russ said, focusing on the ball he indicates. With a deep breath he shoots, and to his relief sinks his intended ball. "How was that?"
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"Now for your next shot, try for the yellow one," he points to the ball resting alongside a cushion. "If you strike it here, gently, it'll roll straight into that corner pocket. Too hard and it'll bounce out this way." He steps aside and tries very hard to focus on the game.
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He aims for the yellow ball, and sure enough it does as Russ said it would. Will straightens and turns to him with a grin. "Guess I'm not quite as bad as I thought I was."
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