It was beginning.

Himchan was nearly on the edge of his seat as the television blared, pushing himself in between the small crowd that formed within the electronics store.

“Himchan, take a breather.” Zelo called out, dusting about his shop. “The game just started.”

“How are you so calm?” Himchan snapped back but nearly jumped with the crowd as the game continued. “Croatia just scored! I’m going to lose at this rate!”

Zelo ignored him, but Himchan was growing increasingly violent and spewing profanities, “This is a family friendly shop Himchan.”

“SCREW YOU!”

Although it wasn’t directed to Zelo, the younger man shook his head and reached for his cell, calling a familiar number.

“Overtime? Why? Just let it end! I don’t need a draw!” Himchan clutched his fist. “C’mon! Move it! I’ve got 300 riding on this!”

“300?”

Himchan froze, and slowly turned around as Yongguk crossed his arms in front of him. Himchan quickly glared Zelo’s way, but the calm man turned his back to the two and continued calmly dusting his shop.

“I haven’t given you your paycheck yet, where are you getting this money from?”

“I save,” Himchan countered, Yongguk arched an eyebrow. Yongguk grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out of the shop. “Wait, where are we going?”

“We’re going home, where else?”

“What?! The match’s going on right now!”

“GOAL!”

“What?!” Himchan snapped around to the row of televisions behind another shop, “Oh, it’s Brazil.” His bet wasn’t in danger at least.

“You’re always like this.”

Himchan took that into offense. “Only every four years.”

“And for the CONCACAF, CONMEBOL, Champions League, AFC– I don’t even understand soccer and I know these things because of you.”

“Hey, hey, you own a bar, you would’ve known even without me.”

Himchan really did have an answer for everything. Yongguk exhaled, “Since you’re living in my house, I have my rules about this, rules you agreed to. I wouldn’t find this such a problem if you didn’t bet so often.”

“I am following the rules, I’ve cut it down.”

“With how much you’re betting, on the first day no less, you’re already making up for the last three years. If you keep this up, you’re never going to have enough for rent. And I’m not going to make up the difference.”

“I know that, you’ve already done enough for me. I’m not going to expect anything more.”

The two came to a stop in the middle of the busy sidewalk, Yongguk faced him and stared in disbelief. Himchan frowned, his longtime friend had no confidence in him. He supposed that was to be expected.

Himchan looked down as Yongguk’s hand remained on his wrist.

“The moment you can’t pay, don’t be surprised if I ask you to leave.”

Himchan’s gaze remained on his locked wrist, he severely doubted that, especially since Yongguk lov–

Yongguk lowered his hand, and Himchan massaged his wrist. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”

“I am, I am,” Himchan muttered as he looked away.

Yongguk narrowed his eyes, “You–”

“BRAZIL HAS WON THE FIRST MATCH OF THE WORLD CUP!” They overhear the commenter from one of the open bars, Himchan nearly jumped up in glee.

“After this ends, I’ll have enough to pay rent for the next four years.” Himchan boasted.

“Your luck isn’t that good,” Yongguk deadpanned. “You should end it now while you can.”

“It’s just the first game,” Himchan reminded.

Right, Yongguk muttered. “Just a whole ‘nother month to go.”

Things weren’t going to end well at this rate, and the plan began to make its way as Yongguk glanced at the television where tomorrow’s matches briefly showed.

“Since you’re so caught up in betting, then let’s make our own.”

“Our own?”

Himchan could feel this was a trap, but he was intrigued by the idea. It's not as if Yongguk paid attention to the sport, he had the advantage in this. “How much?”

“Not like that… Tomorrow, isn’t the last champion playing?”

“Yes, against the Netherlands.”

“And I bet you have money riding on that too,” Yongguk murmured, Himchan grinned his way as a response. “Alright, if they lose tomorrow–”

“Hah!”

“Then you can’t bet for an entire week.” Yongguk finished, “Deal?”

Himchan smiled, “And if I win, you can’t bother me for the rest of the World cup, not a peep, not a single comment.”

“Only for the week.” Yongguk compromised, and Himchan felt so smug about it, he heartily agreed.

“Fine,” he smiled against Yongguk’s stolid expression, “Deal.”