#sas fc

augustin laughs softly and turns to get the baking parchment wrapped parcel out of his bag. he hands it to him and is rewarded with another warm grin and then reg saying,

“you beautiful bastard” as he takes it from him thankfully, stepping closer to kiss his hair.

augustin reddens but he can’t stop smiling.

“enjoy, and let me know what it’s like”

“oh you’ll know alright” reg says, sitting down on the bench to open the goodies.

pat sits next to him.

“it’s that good you can’t wait until you get home?”

“have you not tasted this man’s jam?” reg says, tearing a chunk of the brioche bread and dipping it into the open jar.

“i can’t say i’ve had the pleasure” pat smiles.

augustin gets another jar out of his bag and offers it to pat.

“i hope you like it,” he smiles at him. “though this one is actually a conserve…”

“oh, please,” he hears eoin say from behind him. “let’s not start all that again” he sighs.

pat and reg look up from their food and lean to the side so they can see him.

“i’ve had it all morning” eoin says, leaning back against the wall where he’s sat on the bench opposite them.

pat’s just about to ask what he’s talking about when paddy looks up from untying his boots and says,

“it’s fucking jam and he knows it. just being pretentious, so he is”

so, that answers that.

sensing the impending argument, reg wordlessly offers the bread to pat and he tears a chunk off to dip into his own jar.

augustin adjusts his glasses and turns to face paddy, but before he can say anything eoin holds a hand up.

“i mean it, i’m not doing this again. if i hear the words jam and conserve once more i’m quitting the team”

paddy rolls his eyes next to him, as if he’s just being dramatic, and augustin sighs softly, wind taken from his sails. he turns back to see pat and reg grinning at him.

“how is the- how is it?” he asks.

“really good” pat says around a mouthful of bread and- whatever it is.

“that’s your fourth” eoin smiles as paddy puts his glass down.

paddy flops back onto his front and says,

“you keep buying them for me”

“i’m only buying them ‘cause you keep drinking them”

“then we could be here a while” paddy grins, eyes closed.

augustin, on the other side of eoin, says,

“you’re drunk”

his voice is full of adoration, though.

paddy lifts his head up to look at him and huffs softly,

“and you’re too far away”

he throws an arm out in an attempt to reach him but it falls short and lands over eoin instead.

eoin brings a hand up to stroke it, all sunwarmed and covered in freckles.

augustin looks up from his book and says,

“i’m right here, mon amour”

paddy drops his head back down onto his other arm and sighs contentedly, “god. the french really does it for me, you know”

eoin laughs.

“you’d never tell him that if you were sober!”

augustin sits up to look at them both.

“he doesn’t have to, you think i don’t know?”

paddy has to lift his head to look at him again, because there’s something else in his voice now.

“fuck, you’re hot” he says.

augustin laughs now.

“and you’re still drunk”

“maybe,” paddy says, pulling his arm away from eoin and getting to his feet. “want you, though”

he steps carefully over eoin and pushes at augustin’s shoulder until he lays back and paddy can straddle him.

“paddy,” eoin says, alarm in his voice. “we’re in public!”

paddy’s mouth is on augustin’s neck now, so augustin feels it when he says,

“wasn’t my decision to leave the room”

augustin, finding restraint from- somewhere- pushes at paddy until he sits up, still straddling him, and then looks over at eoin. he raises an eyebrow at him and knows eoin knows what he means, because eoin nods and says,

“yeah, we should go”