Work Text:
Saihara Shuichi had a lot to reflect on as his boyfriend's head lay in his lap, in a small taxi, riding to an interview. A good many thoughts were racing through his head, some coherent, some not, and he had to breath in deeply and try to sort them all out.
~ ° ~
They were in a taxi, he hadn't been inside for long. The two men were out on their way to another convention where they were speaking, one out of many. The former cast of Danganronpa was required [read: forced] to interact with the public, through interviews and live appearances and blogs alike. Shuichi and Kokichi mostly appeared at conventions, along their one rule that they were allowed to speak their minds, and would keep it at that were they not forced to attend interviews as well. For the appearance at this fan gathering, however, the 'detective' had actually prepared a small speech for the crowd. The words of this speech was part of the thoughts in his head.
~ ° ~
When they had entered the taxi, Kokichi had been visibly shaking. It was well known between Shuichi and Kokichi that the latter hated the forced public outings, and it showed on the way to wherever they were going. There was always twitching or muttering or full-fledged shaking. Shuichi had come to admire Kokichi's ability to compose himself and stay in character once they were in public, amongst the many other things the detective admired about the purple-haired boy.
Kokichi, on this ride specifically, [once there was a partition between them and the driver], had halfheartedly jested at Shuichi; "Your supreme leader demands you allow him to rest his head in your lap", and Shuichi, practically sensing his discomfort, scooted over to the far side of the seats so he could do as he pleased. Shuichi's gaze drifted out to the window as Kokichi settled, and seemed to relax in his lap. He watched the street pass, blurred and indistinct, and stayed like that for some time until Kokichi jerked in his lap. Shuichi turned to look at him. His eyes were pressed shut, his nose wrinkled. Shuichi gently brushed a hand over his face, murmuring,
"Kokichi?"
This stirred no reaction, to the detective's dismay, and he, nervously, certainly not knowing what else to do, gently took Kokichi's hand to see if that would draw him out of whatever oppressive thoughts he was having. This did stir a reaction, certainly. Kokichi's eyes popped open, his nose and face smoothed. His eyes locked on Shuichi, and then rapidly fluttering down to where their hands were locked. "Why, Shumai-" Kokichi stuttered, trying to explain himself. That's what it looked like. Shuichi couldn't help but find it cute as he cupped his other hand over theirs and shook his head. "Sh, it's ok. Its alright. Do you want to, uhm, tell me? What had you thinking so hard?"
The detective's hesitance seemed to amuse the boy with the purple hair. "It's ok, my beloved Shumai." Kokichi abruptly kicked himself up and settled normally, all the time managing to keep hold of his hand. A quick glance out the window told Shuichi they were nearing their destination, but with enough time for a short exchange. A short exchange he would spend in silence, watching Kokichi's still face, after he'd settled back again and closed his eyes, pale fingers laced with Shuichi's darker ones, his chin buried in his thick, iconic checked neckerchief. He looked so serene. So at peace. Shuichi grinned impulsively. Sure, their world had been turned upside down, but he couldn't help but think that was ok.
~ ° ~
A somewhat sleepy murmur dragged him from his thoughts once more. "Hey, Shumai? Thanks. Thanks for helping." Shuichi's grin only widened as he leaned over and kissed Kokichi's forehead. "You're welcome. Always."