Hello, thank you for taking the time to check out my one-shot! This is the first time that I'm posting something on this site, so I'm a little nervous, haha! I've got lots of one-shots like this one, and also much longer stories I'm hoping to post as well. Let me know what you'd like to see, and I hope you enjoy it! :)

Normally, Simon didn't like soccer at all. He thought it was a ruthless sport with hardly any order, and it was too easy to get hurt. So when Alvin joined the soccer team when they first began high school, Simon couldn't help but worry about his safety. He didn't say it out loud, though, since he didn't want Alvin to think he was just nagging him and being overprotective.

Simon decided that to avoid unnecessary worry, he wouldn't go to any of Alvin's games. He didn't want to watch him get hurt, as it was already bad enough when he came home all bruised and scraped up. He often just ignored him and kept his worry to himself, but one night, when Alvin was practically limping through the front door with a scowl on his face, Simon knew he couldn't just ignore him anymore.

"Alvin, are you okay?" he asked, putting his book down and standing from the couch. He could see all manner of scrapes and bruises on Alvin's arms, and he was sure it was worse on his legs and elsewhere.

"I'm fine," Alvin snapped. He dropped his bag by the door and stormed off into their shared bedroom, muttering something about how 'lousy and stupid' the other team was. Simon sighed and shook his head, but he followed him anyway. He wanted to try and comfort him this time because by now, he was ninety percent sure that Alvin's team had lost the game. He peeked through the door and saw Alvin sitting on his bed, his back facing Simon. He was still muttering about something, and Simon hated seeing him like this.

"Alvin…" he said, making his presence known. Alvin turned around and scowled, but his expression softened slightly when he realized it was just Simon.

"Hey…you can come in."

Simon opened the door the rest of the way and walked over to Alvin's bed. He didn't sit right away, so he just idled awkwardly by the foot of the bed. He wasn't really sure what to say since he'd never been good at comforting people anyway.

"Jesus, I'm not going to bite your head off. You can sit down," Alvin said, motioning towards the spot next to him. So Simon sat, keeping his hands folded in his lap.

"Another loss, huh?" he said.

"Yeah. We could've won, but it was my fault…I screwed it up…" Alvin clenched one of his hands into a fist. "God…"

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Simon said, but he hadn't been there, so he couldn't really say anything like that.

"Tch…you wouldn't know. You never come to my games," Alvin spat.

"You noticed?" Simon asked, his heartbeat speeding up.

"Of course I noticed. It's kind of insulting, you know."

"I…I didn't mean to insult you. That was never my intention, Alvin. I just…"

"You just what? What's your reason?" Alvin said, gazing at him with pain in his eyes. Simon bit his lip and shook his head, but he forced himself to say it.

"It's just that I don't like seeing you get hurt on the field," he whispered. He felt heat rise in his cheeks, and he braced himself for the worst. But Alvin didn't laugh or tell him to stop being so overbearing; he just looked sort of surprised.

"Seriously? That's…that's it?" Alvin asked.

"Yeah…"

Alvin shook his head in disbelief. "Huh…now I feel pretty stupid."

"You're not stupid," Simon said quickly.

"I kept thinking you weren't proud of me or something…that you just didn't care about what made me happy."

Simon felt his heart sink. I guess not talking about something that's bothering you really can lead to misunderstandings… he thought.

"Of course I'm proud of you, Alvin. I just wish you wouldn't get hurt so much," he said, gesturing to the scrapes and bruises on Alvin's arms.

"Wanna patch me up, then?" Alvin said with a little smirk.

"Um…sure? With what?"

Alvin reached over into his nightstand and pulled out a few things from his nightstand, then dumped them in front of Simon. A roll of gauze bandages, a package of bandaids, some cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol… Simon wasn't a doctor, but he was sure he could disinfect and cover up a few scrapes. They both moved to sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed so Simon could work with more ease.

"Do you usually do this by yourself?" he asked as he poured some of the rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball.

"Yeah, sometimes."

Simon gently dabbed the cotton ball over the worst scrape on Alvin's upper arm, causing the older boy to hiss.

"I would've done this for you earlier, you know," Simon said. He opened up a bandaid and covered the scrape with it, then patted it down gently so it would stay in place.

"Why didn't you offer to, then?" Alvin asked.

"Because I didn't want you to think I was annoying."

"You're not annoying…"

Simon raised an eyebrow at him as he prepared a fresh cotton ball.

"Okay fine, that's a lie. You annoy the hell out of me, but still. I wouldn't have thought you were annoying if you offered," Alvin said. He hissed again when the cotton ball touched another wound.

"Whatever you say," Simon replied, holding back a laugh.

"I'm serious! I hate doing this by myself."

Simon hummed and opened another bandaid. He placed it over the scrape and smoothed it out with his fingers. He took care of each wound carefully, no matter how small. Some didn't need coverage, but he disinfected each one to the best of his ability.

"Was it a bitter loss?" he asked as he put a bandaid on Alvin's knee.

"Yeah, it was really bad. The other team played way harder than us, and the three canceled practices in a row certainly didn't help," Alvin said, flexing his fingers. "Can you bandage my wrist? It feels sort of funny."

"If you've sprained it, I'll never forgive you," Simon said teasingly.

"I don't think I sprained it, just twisted it a little."

"If you say so." Simon picked up his hand and cradled it gently in his own. He decided not to make a big fuss over this, so he just got to work. He unrolled some of the thick gauze and began wrapping up Alvin's wrist, around and over his thumb, and up to wear his fingers began.

"Thanks, Si," Alvin said, holding up his wrapped wrist to admire it. "I feel like a real warrior now."

"Does that mean you feel better?" Simon asked.

"Yeah…sorry about being so pathetic and weird before. Losing these games, it just…it just really sucks. I feel like I'm not good enough whenever we lose, but at least it's not like, the championships or something. Then I'd be really pissed."

"Hm, I understand…" Simon said, twisting an extra piece of gauze around his own fingers.

"Winning is always really nice, but…it'd be nice to actually have you there when we do win," Alvin said, suddenly sounding shy in a way Simon had never heard before.

"I…I think I agree with you," he replied.

"Really? So you'll come?"

Simon nodded and grinned at him. "Yeah, I will, but under one condition."

"And what's that condition?" Alvin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have to win all the games that I come to," Simon said, half-joking, but he wanted to raise Alvin's spirits and encourage him. Maybe this was the way to do it… "Deal?"

"Oh man, you bet I will," Alvin laughed. "Deal."