Chapter Text
Ryuji stepped into the arcade, looking around to see Akechi leant against a wall in a quiet corner, hoping he wouldn't mind the surprises he had brought along with him (not by choice, if he did have one then he would leave them back at Leblanc).
"Ah, Ryuji. It's nice to see..." Akechi paused, noticing that he wasn't on his own. "Kurusu and...?"
sorry they wanted to game too...
Bowing her head politely, Futaba quickly introduced herself, cowering behind Ryuji, either because of her social anxiety or because Akechi's face had gone completely blank, like he was holding back from showing his true emotions. Which was somehow scarier than if he just got mad.
Akira gave him the biggest shit-eating grin he could. "The more the merrier, right?"
Somehow, Akechi managed to fix his face into a polite smile. "Of course. The more the merrier."
There was an awkward pause, no one knowing what to do. Sighing, Ryuji stepped over to Gun About, pointing at the screen, expecting it to be simple: they could play a few games, loosen up a bit and then all the awkwardness would be gone. Except, of course, nothing in his life went as simply as that, and he screamed internally when both Akira and Akechi reached for the other gun, Futaba barely holding back her sniggers in the background.
Neither moved their hand.
"I think you'll find," Akechi said, holding onto the plastic like his life depended on it. "That this was meant to be just me and Ryuji."
"Yes, and I think you'll find that-" Akira's tone of voice was the same tone he used when he was about to insult the other person and rip them to shreds, so Ryuji jumped in quickly, moving his boyfriend's hand to the other gun.
JUST-PLAY-TOGETHER
"He said we should just play together."
"...I'm not opposed to that."
They got into position, and he had to hold back a laugh at how serious they were, both in proper gun stance, acting like the plastic guns were real. Futaba gave him a sly smile from where she was standing, looking around at the rest of the arcade. "Who do you think is gonna win?" she asked, snickering evilly as they started up the game, the sound of shooting and zombies dying booming out of the game.
WELL-DETECTIVE-SHOOTS-REAL-GUNS
Gasping, she held a hand to her mouth in mock surprise. "You're not going to support your own boyfriend?"
Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the game, nodding as Akira landed a perfect headshot, followed by Akechi killing two enemies at once. As always, they were very evenly matched-they had so much potential to be friends, and yet somehow, he was Akechi's only friend. Maybe this game would help them stop being all weird with each other...?
"500 yen on Akira," Futaba whispered to him, holding the coin in her hand. "Or a popsicle."
Turning his eyes away from the game and Futaba's attempt to make him bet against his own boyfriend, he wondered if there was anything else to do (other than watch two people shoot zombies like their life depended on it in a weird competition), eyes locking onto a claw machine. The last time he was at the arcade, it was still stuffed with Mr Burgers, but it was changed to something else, little Jack Frosts crammed into it. They weren't full plushies, just mini ones, but he looked into his wallet and walked over determinedly.
Futaba followed him, smiling smugly. "Getting a prize for a special someone?" she goaded, poking him in the arm.
SHUT-IT
He put in his first 100 yen coin, moving the claw around into the perfect position, a place that would definitely get him that plushie, pressing the button with confidence...only to watch the stupid thing let go of the little Jack Frost, letting it plop back onto the pile. So he tried again. And another Jack Frost fell down.
"You suck at this."
IT-IS-BROKEN
"No, they're made so you can't win," Futaba said, but she was approaching the machine with triumphant glee on her face. "Nothing a little tinkering can't fix."
YOU-ARE-NOT-HACKING-IN-
"No, I'm not hacking," she interrupted, reaching up to press onto the lock of the machine, the small notch making a click sound. Crouching down, she did something similar with the other lock, jumping back up happily. "They do this for maintenance-try it now, go on!" Sceptical, he put in another 100 yen, doing the same routine, only to grin when the claw didn't let go of the plushie, the prize soon in his gleeful hands. "See, Futaba knows best."
YOU-REALLY-DO-DO-YOU-WANT-LIKE-A-SODA?
"A Fanta! And a popsicle, grape flavour!"
When he came back to the arcade, the Jack Frost in his pocket and soda in his hands, Futaba was back at Gun About, looking around nervously. She brightened up at the sight of her prizes, taking the soda and popsicle thankfully, her tensed muscles relaxing. "Look at them," she whispered, pointing at Akira and Akechi. He did, raising an eyebrow when he saw they were both sweating, so focused on the game that neither noticed anything around them. They had to be at least five games in by now, so clearly both abandoned their need to play with Ryuji pretty quickly. "This isn't even all of it, wait a sec," she said, opening her popsicle as quietly as possible.
"I see that you're not doing as well this round. Struggling, Kurusu?" Akechi taunted, a smirk on his face.
Akira looked unbothered, his glasses flashing. "Says the person who lost last round."
WHAT-THE-HELL
"They're trash-talking each other," Futaba said gleefully. "I wish I had popcorn, this is so great!"
"Well, let's see how well you can handle this-" Akechi did something in game that was impressive enough to make Akira's eyes narrow, a loud bang reverberating from the game. "Impressive, right?"
"Not quite," Akira answered.
Ryuji was very amused by the whole situation. His boyfriend had practically begged that morning to come along, babbling about how Akechi was trash and that it wasn't "safe" to be near him alone, only being brought along because he was being annoying (when Futaba had asked he said yes immediately, because she asked like a normal human being). And now they were throwing themselves into the game with full effort to impress the other.
The game ended, Akira dropping the gun into its holder with his "fuck you I won" face, Akechi rolling his eyes. They finally noticed their presence, both blinking at Ryuji like he was the weird one. "How...long have we been doing this?" Akechi asked, frowning.
"Like an hour and a bit," Futaba answered quietly.
"Seriously?" Akira smiled awkwardly. "Well, I won four out of five games. I guess we should end it here."
"We should." Standing up straight, Akechi smiled warmly at Ryuji. "Next time, I think I should like to play against you. You're a much more enjoyable partner." Ryuji waved goodbye, oblivious to Akira's sudden change in demeanour, his jaw clenched as he watched the detective leave.
"Ooooo drama..." Futaba whispered, clasping her hands together.
WHAT-DRAMA
"Well, cause Akira-"
"Nothing." Akira interrupted, trying to smile at Ryuji but failing. "Just...don't really like him."
YOU-JUST-PLAYED-A-GAME-WITH-HIM-FOR-AGES
"...competition."
"Yeah, it was a competition for Ryuji's-" A quick stern look from Akira shut her up quickly, leaving Ryuji feeling out of the loop (as always). He shrugged it off, pulling out the mini Jack Frost from his pocket and holding it out, dropping it into Akira's hand.
FOR-YOU
"You won this for me?" he asked, holding the plushie tenderly. Ryuji almost expected Futaba to add her contribution to the prize winning, but she just pulled out her phone, the flash going off seconds later and ruining the moment. Still, he couldn't complain, it was because of her that he could even hand anything over. Leaning forward, Akira gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, a hand reaching out to cup his face gently. He would've lingered, but-
"Stop it!" Futaba pushed them apart, throwing her popsicle wrapper at Akira. "I need a spray bottle for you guys, stop being all couple-y!" She looked like she would storm off to a shop to buy one if they didn't step apart right that second, so they obeyed, holding back smiles.
Akira held onto Jack Frost the whole train ride home, the whole situation with Akechi (mostly) forgotten.