In a noodle stand in Runeterra, Ezreal winked at Taric; his eyes sparkled with mischief. Taric hated that sparkle.
"When I win," said Ezreal, "I'm going to make you battle in pink leg warmers."
"Not this time, Ezreal. You will be the one fighting in a skirt."
At that moment, the chef plopped down two steaming bowls of noodles. "The most delicious! Eat up!"
Taric raised a huge forkful of noodles; the skinny explorer would never defeat him in an eating contest. But the moment the noodles passed his lips, an inferno flared up in his mouth. With a gasp, Taric spat the offending noodles. Tears streaming from his eyes, he turned to find Ezreal daintily nibbling on single noodle.
The explorer smiled, handing him a glass of milk. "Looks like you're disqualified for spitting noodles, big guy. I forgot to mention that these are extra spicy."
Taric stared, his mind numb. Then he began to chuckle. Ezreal had gotten him good; truly outplayed. That's the kind of guy Ezreal was; he'd fool you with spicy noodles, but he'd be ready with a glass of milk afterward. Well, Taric would get his revenge on the fields of justice, unfashionable legwear or not. And on their next date, Taric would pick the venue.
Author's Notes: I've decided to write fanfiction in all-chat during my downtime in the game. My teammates appeared to be quite distressed by the homoerotic undertones in this opening.
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