A/N: A tie game makes Jasper question the effectiveness of his lucky jersey until he meets a man with lucky socks. A birthday one-shot for SorceressCirce, inspired by her Sunday football tweeting. AH. Jasper/Edward slash. Rated PG-13.
Warning: May not be safe for Saints fans.
Thanks to Missyfits for prereading and TwilightMundi for betaing.
Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, Little, Brown, et. al. No profit was made and no copyright infringement is intended.
I tried not to snarl outright as I carried a few beers back to my seat for Emmett and me. We'd need them during the second half of the game if the score didn't change pronto. Granted, it was a tie game, but even the thought of a possible loss to the Saints made me cranky.
We had made the long drive down to the Superdome and had decent seats for the away game, thanks to some contest Emmett had won. But considering we were currently tied, my lucky Roddy White jersey wasn't fully doing its job this week.
The stadium concourse was crowded during halftime and not a little slippery with spilled beverages, food, and other substances I didn't care to identify. I tried to watch where I stepped as I hurried to get back to Emmett before the start of the third quarter.
Unfortunately, keeping my eyes on the ground meant that I wasn't totally watching where I was going. And apparently, neither was the stranger who crashed into me, dumping the contents of my hands—several mediocre but overpriced beers—all over my shoes.
"Shit!" The guy cried as his own beer spilled onto the ground, while I uttered my own "Fuck" before sighing as I surveyed the damage.
I looked up when he started to apologize.
Fuck if he wasn't completely gorgeous.
