Author's Note: This was surprisingly fun to write, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

Hogwarts: Ravenclaw, Game and Sports, Role Playing Games

Warnings: NA

Stacked with: MC4A; Sky's the Limit; Flouting Regulations; Summer Bingo; Shipping Wars; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Individual Challenge(s): Fizzy Nose; Family Game Night; More Than England; Gryffindor MC (x2); Summer Vacation; Seeds; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Trope It Up A (Best Friends to Lovers); Themes and Things A (Friendship); Ethnic and Present (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Flags and Ribbons (Y); Short Jog; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

Representation(s): Boom Boys

Bonus challenge(s): Brooms Only; Second Verse (Nontraditional); Chorus (Fizzy Lemonade)

Tertiary bonus challenge: Satisfaction

Word Count: 1081

Summer Bingo

Space Address (Prompt): 5B (Sun)

Shipping War

Ship (Team): Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas

List (Prompt): Summer Big List (Tank top)

The Name of the Game

Seamus had to admit; he felt quite proud of himself. He'd managed to get through 22 hours of his visit to London without being weird around Dean's Muggle family.

He'd done his research before coming, obviously. He was lucky enough that unlike some purebloods he knew how to work the basics —microwaves, toasters, television sets and the like— but his dad's side of the family was estranged, so he had never been in a completely Muggle environment before.

But Dean's sisters seemed to like him, which was good because they meant everything to Dean. They'd insisted on giving Seamus a tour of the house when he'd arrived last night, running amuck in their pajamas and hauling their respective stuffed toys. His mum had also been smiling at him extra wide and calling him 'love' and had been so happy that he'd helped her load the dishwasher, after watching her for a second to get a grasp of the appliance. When he'd been alone with Dean's stepdad for a second, he'd made the good call of asking about his roofing business which had launched a long conversation with Ed—who had already made the obligatory comment about Seamus' handshake anyways.

So yes; Seamus felt that he was doing great.

They were now sitting on the porch. The sun was pounding today and it was blisteringly hot. Mrs. Thomas had brought them cans of Muggle soda, chilled from the fridge. The bubbles were irritating Seamus' nose and Dean was laughing at him. It was a full, hearty laugh, so Seamus was willing to power through the rest of his can.

"Hey Dean!" someone called.

A group of kids wearing Muggle shorts and shirts and caps, wheeling around bicycles, were coming through.

"Hey," Dean said, nodding towards them. He got up and walked towards them, exchanging handshaked and pleasantries.

"We haven't seen you in ages," one guy said.

"I've been helping my stepdad with things every since I got back from school," Dean said.

"Who's the new guy?" one of the boys asked, nudging his head towards Seamus. Seamus took that as his cue to put his can of soda down and join Dean.

"This is Seamus," Dean said. "We go to school together. He's my number one."

Seamus grinned at him. Dean smiled back. "Seamus, these are friends from the neighbourhood—Lennie, Jonas, Malachi, Tony, and Adam. We went to elementary school together."

"Hey," Seamus said, suddenly shy.

"We were just heading to the old school to play football," Tony said. "It's bloody hot, but nobody's got air-conditioning either."

"That sounds fun," Dean said looking back to Seamus, who was now on red alert. "Right Seamus?"

It was apparent to Seamus very quickly that there was no way out of this. He couldn't say anything against this plan because then he'd be that guy who hadn't wanted to hang out with Dean's real-life friends. And he did, he honestly did. Which was why he tried to play it cool.

"Yeah," Seamus nodded.

He followed the trail of boys, who were all thrilled to have finished school last Friday, about a week after Hogwarts had let out. They were talking about some World Cup that was coming up and Seamus was already lost. Anxiety bubbled in his throat. Dean was friends with these guys for a reason, so Seamus didn't want to overthink it or assume the worst. But they were all so relaxed, so at home here, so smooth and comfortable around each other... Seamus could think of about 1000 ways that he didn't belong here, the Irish accent and magic spells and overall gayness being the tip of the iceberg. The main problem, the one he'd have to deal with the soonest, being that he didn't know jack shit about football.

It was bad. Dean had explained it to him a thousand times. It had just never stuck, it had never made sense no matter how simple Dean insisted it was. What was a red card? Why was there a clock? How many players were on a team? Why couldn't you use your hands? You had hands for a reason.

Overall, Seamus had just learned to sit there, nod along, and try to look pretty whenever Dean's parents sent him the sports section of a Muggle paper and he got all worked up about game recaps or trades or stats or injured players.

They got to the end of the street where there was an elementary school and a stretch of grass, drying up and yellowing like parchment. The boys threw their bikes down and started pointing to metal posts painted white and divvying up in teams. The sun was beating down on them with the smoltering intensity that truly was making this the hottest summer in thirty years.

Someone said something funny and Dean laughed, turning back to Seamus smiling. With his usual sharpness, he caught onto Seamus' nerves.

"Hey," he said quietly, stopping as he walked and turning towards Seamus. One hand rested on his hip, fingertips winding themselves in the fabric of Seamus' shirt. "It's football. It's not very hard to play—you just have to use your feet to kick the ball into the other team's net, without, like, punching anybody along the way. But I can tell them you have a bad knee or something if you just want to watch. Or we can go back home…"

"No," Seamus said. "No, it's okay. Football's important to you and these are your friends, so I'll try."

Dean smiled and kissed his nose quickly—so quickly the other boys mustn't have seen, but a thrill still went up Seamus' spine.

"Thanks," Dean said quietly. "That means a lot."

"It's nothing," Seamus said, shyly.

"No, it isn't," Dean said. "My birth dad was maybe a wizard who just didn't tell my mom, you know? I have to think about that a lot, so seeing you try to mix things up… It's important."

"Don't mention it," Seamus said.

"Just follow my lead, okay?"

"Okay."

Dean turned back towards the crowd of boys and called out, "Alright, what team are my boy Seamus and I on?"

"Mine," Adam cut in before anybody could say otherwise. "Skins."

"Alright," Dean said, peeling off his tank top.

Seamus stopped in his steps as the stretch of muscles and taut skin was revealed.

Dean had never mentioned that this was part of football. No wonder he liked the game so much. All of a sudden, Seamus quite liked it too.