Kurita and Komosubi declined in lieu of early morning training and they didn't even bother asking Hiruma or Mamori because, well, they knew better than to go around begging for trouble. In the end, they let Sena, Monta and (grudgingly) Taki tag along with them for a night of good fun, good drinks and good food.
Taki, being the nigh-lobotomized person that he is, chugged an entire bottle of sake after being dared by Kuroki and almost immediately passed out. In between drinks, he'd doodle little markings on the unconscious tight end's face and have a blast at it, inviting everyone to do the same. Sena politely refused to join the sharpie festivities but Monta, being well inebriated, got into the swing of things and found that he could draw pretty well with his feet even when tipsy. A monkey of many talents.
For the most part, Sena was quiet like he always was, and would laugh politely when they'd joke about a previous game or when any of the others would tease him playfully about being the worst kept secret in the entire industry. He'd drink a little but he always promised that there'd never be a repeat of what happened the last time. He's seen enough of the zoo, honestly.
Monta passed him another drink and he had to decline, feeling too drunk for safety. His monkey-like friend wouldn't stand for it and insisted that Sena have another drink and only when Juumonji interceded did he stop and diverted his attention immediately to a teetering Toganou, yacking about the latest issue of Jump like he wasn't even feeling the alcohol in his head yet.
All in all, while it was fun, it ended up making Sena feel more awkward than usual. A feat by far only matched by how he'd feel when Hiruma'd ask, nay, demand for him to entertain him in ways he didn't initially imagine one boy should.
Motioning to Juumonji, he asked if it would be fine with them if he headed home early, blaming the alcohol and bad memories with it. He simply nodded in agreement while Sena worriedly tossed a glance at his simian friend. The lineman promised that he'd take care of him to the best of his ability.
Sena smiled sincerely, waved and closed the door quietly and headed his way home.
What started hours ago as a bit of friendly fun ended up with a room of passed out, underage drunkards and two confused young boys attempting their best to find the right way to address a problem they've both had for a while: That they need someone, anyone, to celebrate for them.
Monta had complained about how Sena and his natural ability to steal the show and how Mamori, or anyone for that matter, never notices him because everyone only loves Eyeshield 21. He complained about how Sena always got her attention and how he'd probably end up in obscurity despite how hard he tries to prove himself. Juumonji listened and even though he'd hiccup and slur his words, he understood the talented wide receiver perfectly regardless. Secretly, he felt a bit like Monta, even more so on the Mamori bit because it frustrated him how an intelligent woman like her could be so dense at times.
What they didn't understand is why people have to be so slow when it comes to realizing the most obvious.
And now here they were, hours after they've started and precisely 49 minutes after the last bottle was emptied that they became a sweaty, disgusting pile of arms and legs fumbling atop tatami mats in someone else's apartment, occasionally kicking a misplaced copy of Jump clear across the room in their subconscious struggle to establish who'd top who. No one really remembers how it had all began and who did what, all things hazy amidst the panting and the fluids exchanged between lips. No words were spoken as they felt they said everything they needed to say now that they've gone this far. In their heads they thought of stopping but never did, blaming the alcohol and the hormones and everything for the situation they were in but never the bleeding loneliness that really nailed the coffin shut.
They'd do anything but acknowledge that they're lonely.
It had ended as quickly as it had begun, both of them wearily wiping themselves off of all the excess and the sweat. While they were getting dressed, he had taken one last look at Monta only to catch him flash a thumbs up and a smile that stretched from ear to ear, accompanied by words that he'd never forget for the rest of his natural life.
Now, hours after all the pieces had been set into motion, Juumonji realized why Mamori never gave Monta the time of day.