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Kokichi Ouma was many things.
He was a liar. He was sarcastic. He was damnably cute despite being the creepiest little thing to ever grace the planet Earth. Sometimes, when Kokichi didn’t know Shuichi was looking, he would let his mask drop and he would crinkle his nose just a little when he saw a passing kitten or he would tilt his head just a tad like a little puppy when a math or biology question in class confused him.
Yes, Kokichi Ouma was many things.
But nervous? Never.
… or so he thought.
It was a peculiar sight. Kokichi and Shuichi had been dating a little over two years and at that stage of a relationship it was hard to find anything that was surprising. Sure, every now and again he might discover a little tick or an odd habit that had been kept secret. It may be a little surprising and a little out of the blue, but there was never anything too out of left field. There was never a sentence uttered that made him question the true character of who he had been dating for so long. There was never a new trait or habit that was discovered that made him decide to call it quits. As far as Shuichi and Kokichi went, they were the perfect couple. Sure, Kokichi was a little shy to the idea of vulnerability and sometimes on bad days Shuichi would open up his dresser drawer and fiddle with his long-forsaken hat and actually consider wearing it again, but as far as couples went they balanced each other out completely.
So as Kokichi stood in his doorway, all dolled up in a tailcoat and a top hat with a bouquet of purple lilacs in one hand and a box of caramel chocolates in the other, Shuichi was dumbfounded. Not because of the grand gesture, no, that had become a common - if not initially surprising - occurrence throughout their entire relationship. Rather, as Shuichi saw the boy’s beet red cheeks and the tinted top of his forehead, hidden just so under that amazingly ridiculous top hat, he was flabbergasted because Kokichi had blushed in his presence before but his hands had never shook quite as much as they did now - quivering and shivering as though they were crying to be held. His face had never been quite so bright and his eyes had never been quite so wide. If Shuichi didn’t know Kokichi, he would’ve perhaps thought that Hanamura had somehow tricked him into trying his special ingredient.
Kokichi, being Kokichi, attempted to play it off. “Shuichi! I brought you something~!” and he pushed his way into Shuichi’s room, a bounce in his step as though it was his room instead of Shuichi’s. With how often Kokichi lounged in here it might as well be.
Shuichi sighed, closing the door as he listened to the click-clack of Kokichi’s miniature heel. He called over his shoulder, a bite to his words, “oh, don’t worry! Make yourself at home!”
“I will~!”
Of course.
Shuichi looked down, his feet digging into the carpet as he tried desperately to hide that shit eating grin that he had accidentally adopted from Kokichi. It didn’t appear often - in fact it appeared in completely different circumstances than it would on Kokichi - but when it did he would often be muddled with both shame and exuberation. Really, it was no wonder that Kokichi loved the expression so damn much.
“Shu-bear~! I’m waiting!”
“... right.”
Shuichi spun on his heel. Immediately he noticed Kokichi’s rather… interesting pose. For whatever reason, the boy had decided it was wholly appropriate to lounge on his bed, one leg crossed over the other like a damn Vogue model, his bouquet of lilacs covering the bottom half of his face and matching perfectly with his equally violet eyes. The box of chocolates was held like a Chinese fan might be held in the grip of others, all dainty like and loose. Occasionally Kokichi would even use the chocolates like he would a fan, the bottom of the heart fanning his face as all the wrapped chocolate bites inside jiggled and moved with the force.
Despite himself, Shuichi drew forward, almost entranced at the very sight of Kokichi. It was all part of Kokichi’s game plan, of course, and god knew that Shuichi was always victim to Kokichi’s plans. Nothing would come of it anyhow. Knowing Kokichi, he would shove the bouquet in his face, place the chocolates on his bed, and scamper off so fast that it was like he was never there in the first place; such plots would work perfectly as a gaslight if not for the fact that Kokichi himself was aware of that fact. For whatever reason, Kokichi had decided that Shuichi - no matter how much he pissed him off - would never be the subject of his manipulative and often psychotic schemes. Shuichi would count himself lucky if not for the fact that resulted in all of his friends practically begging Shuichi to break up with the boy. Despite that and despite Kokichi’s temperamental attitude and fixations, he found himself unable to.
Now here he was, about to be almost-but-not-quite-gaslit again, and Shuichi just couldn’t resist it.
So when a bouquet of flowers was shoved into his chest and a caramel, strawberry flavored piece of white chocolate was shoved into his slightly agape mouth and thrown on to his tongue, he was taken aback.
“Mmrph?”
And Kokichi was red again, shaking as his eyes opened wide and his fingers twitched like he himself couldn’t believe what he had just done. Not even he could hide his apprehension this time. “S-Shuichi… it’s rude to… talk with your mouth full.”
Shuichi tilted his head, his right cheek full as he chomped on his piece of chocolatey goodness and as a caramel finish hit the back of his tongue. His hands grasped around the bouquet in his arms and his eyebrow lifted because this was new. Yet again Kokichi had managed to surprise him. At the same time, however, it confounded him because it was completely out of character for Kokichi to get flustered at feeding Shuichi chocolates - of all things!
And then he spotted Kokichi put another piece of chocolate between his teeth - this time a molten brown, almost black, piece - and squint his eyes against the harsh flushes of his skin and the rising temperature of the dorm. He leant towards Shuichi, lips slightly parted around the chocolate, and - wait a second!
Time seemed to slow down. As Kokichi drew closer it felt as though Shuichi were stuck in a time loop, watching his fate unfold before his eyes over and over again as Kokichi did the unthinkable and actually considered sharing food with someone.
“Kokichi.”
And he stopped. His eyes were still squinted and the chocolate was starting to melt around his lips but he stopped. One of his eyes opened just a crack, reflecting in the luminescent bulbs that hung overhead. He spoke against the chocolate, oddly resemblant of what Shuichi had done just moments prior: “Mmmraa?”
“Kokichi, what are you doing?”
Kokichi’s cheeks were still flushed a bright pink and his eyes were still squinted just enough to be resemblant of a Duchenne smile, but his shaking had ceased and his eyebrows had stopped furrowing.
Kokichi was silent for a moment. Then two. Then three. The chocolate continued to melt around his sickly sweet lips. Every once in a while Kokichi’s tongue would flick out to catch the droplets that would travel just a bit too far down his lips and towards his pristine and quite obviously tailored dress shirt and coat. A moment later, Kokichi slurped the remnants of the chocolate into his mouth, chomping and chewing until there was nothing left and his mouth was clear.
Finally, he answered. “I wanted to share a little something with my Succi!”
The answer would’ve been far more convincing if Kokichi hadn’t been shaking so much and if he hadn’t waited so long before answering and if Shuichi hadn’t been dating the man for two literal years. “Uh-huh.”
The first thing that Shuichi had figured out in his relationship with Kokichi was his own personal motto: ‘I don’t touch your food, you don’t touch mine. Unless you want your arm cut off.’ It was a motto that the boy had lived by for his entire life. He had even spouted up tales of him, as a fetus, separating his mother’s food and his. In the womb. Yes, Kokichi was extremely adamant on the whole concept of “this mine, this yours.” So naturally, Shuichi immediately knew that the boy was telling a lie.
“... is this one of your bets with Iruma?”
Kokichi was silent, staring up at him with those lilac puppy dog eyes like he always did when he wanted Shuichi to stop being the Ultimate Detective and to start pleasing him instead. Ironically enough for Kokichi, that was all the confirmation that Shuichi needed.
Shuichi gave a loud, over dramatic sigh that Kokichi would be so damn proud of if he hadn’t just been caught red handed. He set the bouquet right on the edge of the bed, just far enough away from Kokichi so that he wouldn’t kick it off when he inevitably threw a fuss. Shuichi looked into Kokichi’s deep, violet eyes; he stared so deep that he could see himself in them, and then himself again, and again, and again, and then-
“Mrph!”
Mission success.
Shuichi shoved a creamy dark chocolate into Kokichi’s mouth, ignoring his splutters and cries of outrage. And then Kokichi attacked him back, and then soon enough it became almost like a war. The two of them were caught in a cycle of feeding each other chocolates with varying degrees of aggressiveness, and as Shuichi grinned and looked into Kokichi’s eyes he saw a shimmer of happiness in them - so far removed yet so present and so thrilling. Shuichi couldn’t be happier.
And better yet, no mouth-to-mouth chocolate exchange was involved.