Archive of Our Own

Six months ago, Erik's father told him that they were moving to tangerine County all the way in Florida.

 This wasn't unusual for him,

for his family have moved many times before so this isn't the first, it just meant starting over again.

Wowing new coaches,

Making a new place worship him.

something is Dad told him no one can ever say no as long as you’re good enough

as long as you’re great enough.

And Erik was BORN Great.

This time isn't any more different.

…….

This time won’t— be the same as the last.

After he finish putting most of his stuff in boxes-

trophies, clothes, toiletries, books, etc;

He decided to get onto his laptop and research the new area they're going to be moving into.

 His dad said something about lake windom? Winder-

Ah, Lake Windsor. 

Erik knew the type of place Mom wanted to move into,

Rich old suburban white families in little perfect suburban homes, far away what she considered, 'rift-raft'.

Typical. But what he cared the most about was the 'rich' part of the place.

See he heard online from some of his friends at his old high school, that rich suburb people often have the best stuff to sell and steal-and most of the time they don't even notice.

While he wasn't in need of money, and neither was his family. (They were actually quite well off. ) it wouldn't hurt to get a few extra bucks on the side.

(especially when it meant, he got to do something actually exciting)

And he knew if he was caught doing something suspicious by his parents, they did nothing except tell him he better not do it again.

Great parenting! 

This is a new neighborhood, a new team. And the only thing that will come from this past, is the Eric Fisher football future. Because no one would ever blame a high schooler for a bit of robberies.

ESPECIALLY, one who is a  high scorer football player who's from out of state, Someone who wouldn’t know his way around.

But the question is how he pull it off?

Around two weeks later, Erik found himself standing off the side while his Dad yapped to his coach and talking about, 'how good of a football player Erik is! And his clean record and his farthest kick and blah blah blah-'

he wasn't really paying attention much, just standing around the football field while his father and, bald-as-hell-soon-to-be football coach were busy yakking under a shaded spot provided by a blue crappy tent.

He decided to use his time wisely and size up the nobodys that would be playing on his team.

A just barely decent amount of them were looking like well fit players,

Meanwhile, the rest of them looked like they'd fit in more in a jar of toothpicks then here.

while they were playing a quick practice game they all got in a relatively OK formation it could use a few pointers, but he’s not the coach, is he? someone ran out to get the ball and came back, panting-  PANTING HAHAHA REALLY? Pathetic, but in the middle of the field he saw what he assumed to be the star quarterback, the celebrity of Lake Windsor, Antoine. To be fair enough, he was well built, not too shabby, but compared to him? HA, Erik could beat his sorry ass five times over without breaking a sweat in kicks ALONE! Though he may put up a fair fight, Erik knows he can still surpass him like he will everyone else.

As they played a quick game , Erik noted each of their playing styles, who passed the ball, how far some people throw, mentally noting each little thing down in his head. In a blink of the eye a ball was thrown to the other side, and the practice game was over, the big group split up into smaller groups, probably training each of their own set of skills.

Some people were tackling dummies, others running through tires, and he noticed a small line of kickers and what he assumed to be a holder.

His eyes kept scanning the crowd looking for anyone else that was worth noting.

He saw a familiar face, a holder for one the kickers(soon he will be holding that ball for him) a guy, probably around his age that he saw around the neighborhood a few times, this guy had brown shabby hair, but looks like he took good care of himself and was decently sized, sort of looked a bit more childish though, but the last time he saw him, he had a 5 o'clock shadow. Ya know he looks even more familiar though, maybe he's seen him in an article when he was searching for places to rob.

Think it was Mitchell or something?

"Mike ya ready?" called out a scrawly looking kicker.

Eh close enough.

He decided to watch this attempt, placing bets in his own mind about how far that ball would go.

25 km, 15 km, 10, 5,  1.......

foot.

Nahh too generous probably will miss the damn thing entirely-

loser.

As Mitchell Mike held a big thumbs up, the kicker ran, sprinted, and lifted his foot to kick the ball, and with a quick WHACK! The ball flew through the air and landed 21.5 km away.

Not too bad for someone of his size, but shrimpy when it comes to Erik.

The coach and his dad stopped talking to look back over at the sound,  "Good kick James" yelled the coach.

'Pfft- good kick MY ASS' is what Erik wanted to scream but his brain yelled at him not to.

While the kick went to go pick up the ball, the Mike guy called out, 

"Yo I'm taking a break real quick!" 

"Alright- ARTHUR, GET UP THERE!" Yelled the Bald man

Huh that's a new name wonder what that guys like.

Heh, probably a shrimp like the little ones-

'DAMN'

As he looked back to see what 'shrimp' Arthur was,

For a split second, they looked straight at each other.

A Hot tall milk chocolate skinned guy, with long locks-almost wicks actually, tied up in a messy ponytail with a little bit not tied back enough as the rest, and it sagged down a bit, with one long lock that hangs in front of his face. Dark warm brown eyes meet his, sharp but soften eyes, that he couldn't look away from somehow- 

Then he turned his gaze away and continued walking towards the kicker and held another football, setting it down with a very practice form.

For a moment Erik almost lifted up his hand to check if his mouth was hanging open, but stopped himself before he reached his chin.

..........

FUCKKKK.....

At least he knows who's gonna hold the ball for him. 

‘Arthur Bauer.... huh. Maybe not as much as a shrimp as he thought.’