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Just keep marching on

"Zisteau!" Coach shouted. "You're in!"

Zisteau wiped his brow and shoved his helmet over his head and popped the mouth guard in as he jogged to the forty, where the last play had ended. He took his position, ready to catch the ball and run like hell towards the end zone. The opposing team, The Hermits, were still in a huddle, going over plays and strategies.

He scanned the far end zone near the main entrance to the stadium, seeing the tall feathers atop bulky black hats bouncing into the stadium, bound for the track. His smile, which had been small before, grew as he saw a certain member of the marching band. The member in question had on his baggy uniform, which had long sleeves, gauntlets, gloves, sleek black shoes, and a high collar. His bulky black hat fell over his eyes. He could just barely see the sigh that the boy let out as he shoved his hat back up to its spot. He watched as the boy pulled at his neck strap and brought his shiny gold saxophone closer to his lips.

The boy's blue-red eyes met his own blue-green and he stuck his tongue out at him. The boy, in return, sent him a smirk and crossed his arms, or as best as he could with the saxophone resting awkwardly across his thin stomach and chest. He rolled his eyes and cast his gaze back to the game, which was about to begin again, as the opposing team was jogging back to the field.

The ball was snapped into his hands and he took off, using his, semi long legs, to his advantage. He was closing in on the end zone when an opposing player came close to him, attempting to tackle him, but he just barely managed to avoid it. His eyes darted to the scoreboard, seeing the measly five seconds left in the quarter. He pushed himself even harder and dove into the end zone, tucking and rolling to avoid too much injury, just as the buzzer sounded.

He jumped up and did his little victory dance, for what good quarterback didn't have a victory dance for after a touchdown? He glanced back at the band, which he was now a lot closer to, and spotted the boy from earlier, who's hat had fallen back over his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from laughing so hard he'd cry. That earned him a half hearted glare, which only made him laugh even more as he walked off of the field, joining his teammates on the sideline.

Guude clapped him on the shoulder. "Amazing touchdown guy!"

"Thanks." He gave his teammate and long time friend a smile.

"Now tell me, when are ya gonna stop making silly faces with Kurt and just ask him out?"

He felt his cheeks flame red, making him thankful that his helmet was still securely in place. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Guude rolled his eyes. "Suuure Z, just keep denying it, that'll get you far." Guude drawls in his southern accent.

He rolled his eyes, pulling his helmet off and sitting on the bench. He noticed Guude sit beside him, but didn't pay much attention to that as the band was getting set on the field. His eyes found Kurt again, and he couldn't help but smile as he watched Kurt lick his lips and put his mouthpiece in his mouth. He noticed this about Kurt a long while ago. He always licked his lips before bringing his saxophone up to play. He found that rather enticing. If he were to be honest, everything about Kurt he found very attractive. From his short brown hair to his entrancing blue-red eyes, every single thing about Kurt just got to him in a weird way, which he definitely couldn't say that he hated.

He had realized this a long while ago. He was falling head over heals for Kurt. It had dawned on him the first time he'd seen Kurt marching. He seemed like such a klutz, but when he was out on the soft grass field, he was the most graceful person in the world. Just thinking about Kurt got him blushing and wanting that talented boy closer to him. He knew Kurt was gay, that much was obvious, considering he was openly gay to the whole school. He was just nervous that Kurt wouldn't reciprocate his feelings.

But, he knew if he didn't make his move soon, then he'd surely go mad, for these feelings he'd developed for Kurt just kept getting stronger and stronger by the day. His gaze met Kurt's and he just couldn't help but send him a goofy smile. Kurt scrunched up his face, sticking out his tongue, which caused Zisteau to burst out into laughter. Why are you so fucking cute? He asked himself as Kurt's gaze left his.

He sat quietly and watched with anticipation as all of the band members got set. His gaze followed Kurt the whole time as he moved gracefully across the field, his fingers moving quickly across the keys on his saxophone. He was always amazed by the marching band, for how silly the idea may seem, they did a damn good job of performing with such a high excellence.

He didn't even notice the show was over, for he was entranced by Kurt, who was following the rest of the band members off of the field.

"Earth to Zisteau." Guude calls, catching his attention , which had been on Kurt, who'd shot him a look.


"You're in."

Zisteau hopped off of the bench and jogged to join his teammates on the field. As the time ticked down in the last quarter, he was growing nervous. The two teams were tied, and one needed to make a touchdown to win or they'd go into overtime. It was the other team's ball with only twenty seconds on the clock. He swore that each second ticking away made him twitch with nervousness and anticipation.

The ball was thrown, a perfect spiral, towards the running back on the opposing team. Now or never. He jumped and caught the ball in his arms. He took off in a full on sprint towards the end zone, which was a good four yard lines away. Seven seconds. He pushed even harder, getting ever closer. Two seconds. He leapt out of the way of anyone who was trying to tackle him. As the buzzer sounded, his body landed in the white and gold painted grass of the end zone. He heard the whistle, claiming the touchdown good.

He splayed out on the colored grass, his chest heaving up and down as he grasped for air. He was suddenly pulled off of the ground and pulled towards the team, which was cheering. He was hoisted into the air as the cheers continued. He was sat down not long after and as he scanned around himself, his eyes landed on the marching band, which was starting to shuffle out of the stadium with their instruments, music, and stands in hand.

He ignored the calls from his team as his feet brought him towards the small fence that separated the field from the stands. His eyes found Kurt, and his feet moved faster.

"Kurt!" He called out, letting his helmet fall to the ground as he hopped the fence with ease.

Kurt's eyes quickly found him and a questioning look settled in those blue-red eyes which Zisteau swore were the most beautiful things in this whole entire world. He didn't even give Kurt a chance to say anything as he pressed his lips against Kurt's. Kurt kissed back almost instantly. The sound of metal hitting the ground barely registered to either as their lips moved together. They self-consciously moved closer to each other, though their closeness was breached by the saxophone which still hung from his neck strap.

Their lips parted and eyes fluttered open, blue-green meeting blue-red, both blushing heavily. He was speechless, for he'd never imagined, even in his wildest dreams, that kissing Kurt would be that extraordinary. He ignored the 'whoops' and wolf whistles from the rest of the team as his gaze held Kurt's.

"I've wanted to do that for so long." He breathed out.

"So have I." Kurt responded, his voice merely a whisper.

He couldn't help but tilt his head so their lips met again. He swore he could hear their heartbeats lining up, like the beat of a drum. He knew in that moment that Kurt was the one for him, and, from the look in Kurt's eyes, he knew Kurt felt the same.

He couldn't help but laugh as their lips parted, for Kurt's hat had fallen over his eyes again. He pushed the hat back in place for Kurt, who sent him a half hearted glare.

"You're adorable." He cooed, his gaze never leaving Kurt's.

Kurt's cheeks flamed red as his fingers played nervously with the keys on his shiny gold saxophone.

He picked up the music stand for Kurt and threw and arm around the slim boy's shoulder. "I'll walk ya in."

"O-okay." Kurt replied nervously, his face still beet red.

That only made him laugh more as they started walking, wrapping his arm tighter around Kurt's shoulder, drawing him nearer.
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