Work Text:
“Two people begin eating one Pocky from each end. The first person whose mouth comes off the Pocky or the other player gets to the middle first loses.”
You looked over the social media post one more time, some sort of promotion from Pocky about their new Chili Dark Chocolate flavor. It was some sort of famous couple you didn't bother to know the name of doing the Pocky game. The girlfriend used it as an excuse to get a kiss from her boyfriend, breaking it off right before it got to the middle so he would try to get another kiss from her afterwards.
You didn't really get the appeal of the whole thing, maybe it reminded people of The Lady and The Tramp or something. You didn't even think Red Son knew what the game was, he was smart, sure, but he didn't really keep up with trends. It was a waste of time in his eyes, but he’s centuries old so you couldn't blame him. It was frustrating trying to explain what “rizz” meant to him.
You looked over at him, slaving over his desk trying to put together another invention. The sparks flew off as he welded the metal together with his hands, bringing small bursts of light in the darkness surrounding him. You liked watching him work, watching his hands gracefully create another work of art for his ever growing collection. You didn't even know he could use his flames as a blowtorch, then again he’s used it to warm up coffee so he’s really full of surprises.
You rubbed your finger along the red box in your hand, considering trying the challenge with him. It couldn’t hurt, could it? You did like kissing him, it was always so warm and passionate, and maybe getting him a little angry would make it better. You felt a hand trace along your chin, tilting up your head a little bit.
“I’m sorry I took so much time,” He apologized, placing a light kiss on your forehead. “I didn't mean to keep you waiting for so long, my love. But let’s make up for lost time, okay?” He put his hand out to you.
“Don't worry about it, I know work means a lot to you.” You smiled, taking his hand as he lifted you off of the chair. You shoved the box into your hoodie pocket as you both left the workshop. His hand grabbed onto your waist as you both walked through the halls, protecting you from a non-existent threat. It felt nice being close to him, feeling his inhumanely warm body press against yours, but it didn’t wipe away the thought overwhelming your mind.
He didn't have a traditional couch in his wing of the palace, he had a small conversation pit with plenty of pillows and blankets. Even as he laid you down on the couch, your hands still kept drifting to the box of chocolate biscuit-sticks. When he pulled a blanket over the both of you, he noticed you fumbling with something in your pocket.
“Is something wrong, you keep messing with something.” He looked at you with concerned eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“It’s just this.” You pulled the box out for him to see. “Well it’s not just Pocky, it's just some sort of couple trend people do, it’s fine.”
He looked confused, before it suddenly clicked.
“Oh, the Pocky game? I’m pretty sure Dragon Girl explained it to me once.” He said, “It seems a little silly though, I don't know why you couldn't just ask your partner for a kiss if you wanted one. It just seems like poor communication.”
You whipped your head in his direction.
“You know how the game works?”
“Well, yes.” He shrugged, “I’m not completely oblivious to what mortals spend their time doing. I figured at least trying to navigate these things would be better for me.” He turned his head back to you, only to have a Pocky stick in his face, sticking out of your mouth. “Really?”
“Mhm!” You hummed, though it was muffled from the stick in your mouth. You moved it up and down with your mouth, until he finally bit on the other end. He started chewing on his end and you did the same. He seemed more flustered as you both got closer to the middle. When you both started dating you learned just how easy it was to make him blush. You held onto his head when you both got close to the center, and you could see his eyes narrow, preparing for a kiss.
But then you broke it off. His eyes widened as you munched down on your half with a cat-smile on your face, victorious. His hair quickly burst into flames, flickering into the same pink hue as his face,
“Excuse me, what the hell was that?”
“The game.” You laughed, grabbing another one from the box. “I got to the middle first, so I won. In other words, I beat you, firecracker.” You pointed the biscuit stick at him, taunting him.
“Well that’s not fair, I didn’t know that’s how it worked.” He mumbled. “I was expecting a kiss, not ruthless teasing.”
“If it bothers you that much I could actually kiss you this time” You leaned against him. “If that would make you feel better.”
“You know what would actually make me feel better?” He asked, before grabbing the stick from you. “A rematch.”
“Alright sure, if you really wanna lose again.” You put the stick into your mouth, leaving the other end for him to bite onto. He looked determined this time, like he was working on an invention rather than playing some silly game with you. He started eating his half, staring into your eyes with that spark of competitiveness. As the piece got smaller and smaller, your lips got dangerously close together, much more than last time. You both stopped chewing, forcing yourselves into an awkward moment of pure suspense.
But then he let go of it, letting you quickly finish off the rest of the stick.
“Ha! I won again, told ya you couldn’t beat me.” You crossed your arms in triumph.
“I suppose you did,” He smiled at you, smugly, as though you didn’t just beat him. “I guess this means you deserve a prize don’t you?”
You raised an eyebrow at that, from both his tone and what he was suggesting. He had a look on his face that reminded you of when he attacked people before you both were together. It was like he was a cartoonish villain about to set down some dynamite.
“Uh, I guess? What do you even mean by that?”
Your question was answered almost immediately, when you felt two hands cup your cheeks. He kissed you, slowly pushing you onto your back. You were pinned to the couch as he kept attacking your lips, only giving you a few seconds of relief for air before going in for more. It was relentless. When you finally opened your eyes you were met with your boyfriend staring down at you. Smug.
“I think I won that one, didn’t I?” He asked, falling to your side.
“It sounds more like you're a sore loser.”
“You and I both know that I let you win.”
You grabbed another stick from the forgotten box before handing it to him.
“You wanna prove it?”