The sun blazed down relentlessly on the two teens as they faced off in the middle of the field. A drop of sweat trickled down the back of Alfred's neck. He ignored it. Antonio flicked his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. There was a tense silence.

Suddenly, both teens darted forward. Alfred swept his leg forward, only to have the ball disappear out from under him as Antonio kicked it down the field. The blond quickly spun around and charged forward, keeping his larger body blocking Antonio, who was also running towards the ball.

Alfred reached the ball just in time for the Spanish teen to slide-tackle him from behind. Alfred hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of the other. The older teen leapt back up and started dribbling the ball towards the goal. He laughed. "Come on, mi amigo!" Antonio called over his shoulder. "You can do better than that!"

Alfred was already up and sprinting after the green-eyed boy. Fast as he is, Alfred still didn't stand a chance; Antonio was already at the goal. The brunet took a step and then pivoted, kicking the ball with all his strength. The black and white ball whumphed solidly into the net.

Alfred skidded to a disappointed stop next to the grinning brunet. His blue eyes glared in frustration at the net, and then he turned to Antonio. "I'll score the next one," he panted. The Spanish boy's grin widened. "How did you say it earlier?" he replied cheerily. "Oh yes- bring it on!"

When they restarted, Alfred reached the ball first. He almost made it to his net before Antonio cut out in front of him, gracefully stealing the ball and spinning away. The Spanish boy took off dribbling towards his half of the field, the blond hot on his heels.

Antonio was too busy laughing to run very hard, and the American teen knocked into him roughly, sending Antonio stumbling forward and promptly stealing the ball. "Ha!" the blond cheered, and then took off dribbling down the field in a zigzag pattern. "Where are you going?" Antonio panted behind him, still laughing. "Haven't you ever seen nature shows?" Alfred shouted back. "You run in a zigzag to confuse predators!"

"That's alligators!" Antonio yelled, and tackled Alfred from behind.

"Hey!" the blond shouted, spitting out dirt. "This isn't football, you know!"

"Technically, it is," Antonio pointed out reasonably from his position of crushing Alfred into the ground. "It's you Americans who call it by the wrong name."

"It's the right name!" Alfred retorted, and heaved upward, sending Antonio sprawling and surging to his feet. He reclaimed the ball, and quickly scored before Antonio even made it up from the ground. "One to one!" he crowed triumphantly, punching the air. "Yeah, yeah," Antonio rolled his green eyes, trying to hide a smile. "Let's see how long you can keep up, Jones."

They reconvened in the middle. This time Antonio effortlessly claimed black and white ball and, gracefully evading the larger teen, headed down the field. "No way!" Alfred shouted and full-out sprinted towards the goalposts, abandoning the idea of trying to snatch the ball away from the agile brunet.

Antonio kicked the ball towards the goal, and Alfred made a desperate dive. He just had time to feel a surge of elation as his fingers touched the smooth surface of the ball before he felt a blinding, crippling pain in his head. "Alfred? Alfred! Mi Dios! Are you okay?" the blond heard blurrily, as if he was underwater.

Then everything faded to black.

xXx