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When Setter, an ex-player recently made head coach after doing years as an assistant must’ve come on screen, Finn said, “Wow, Setter’s really let himself go.”
George snorted. “Benefit of coaching and not playing.”
“Yeah?” Finn shot him a cheeky smile over his shoulder. “You planning to?”
“I dunno,” George ran his hand down Finn’s back and smiled. “I do like pies.”
Finn scoffed.
George brought his hand to Finn’s side and started tickling him. “Will you still like me if I tub out?”
Finn wriggled away, laughing.
“You won’t?” George grabbed him around the waist.
“I might,” Finn said, breathless with laughter.
“Might?” George really laid into him then—got both hands into his sides and Finn tried to get away, choking on his laughter.
“Alright, alright, I’ll still like your fat ass.”
“I’ll give you a fat ass…”
Joq felt like he was having an outer body experience as he watched them wrestling, then kissing; or trying to around their laughter.
A roar from the TV made them look up as one.
“See?” Finn said. “I told you.”
“Yeah, alright,” George said and kissed Finn’s Adam’s apple.
“No, seriously, watch the replay. I’m tellin’ you, he needs to play Carr in the pocket.”
George looked up again, and judging by the matching looks of concentration on their faces, they were watching a replay of the mark, then a replay of the goal. Joq didn’t need to see it to know it; Finn had a point, Carr could take a hell of a mark, and he was a good kick.
George grunted.
“What? He’s good,” Finn said, eyes still on the screen. “I’m telling you, forward pocket.”
Joq could hear enough to know they were replaying it from another angle.
“See?” Finn said. “Fuckin’ beauty. Man, he looks good. Still.”
“He’s alright,” George said and rolled up to sit, dragging Finn with him. “I met his girlfriend at the Brownlow’s last year—she’s nicer than him.”
Finn laughed. They’d resumed the same position—George’s hand on Finn’s back, Finn sitting forward to watch the game as he held George’s inner thigh.
“Real smooth, old man,” Finn said.
“What?” George raised both eyebrows.
Finn glanced back at him and Joq watched as George’s pretence slipped—smiling like he’d been caught, like he wanted to get caught.
“I’m just saying,” George went on, “she’s a nice lady.”
“Oh, that’s all you’re saying is it?” Finn’s voice had taken on the same playful edge as George’s, like he was also trying to keep up the façade for the fun of it.
“Yes, and they seem very happy.”
