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“Move over dummy, you're blocking the light.”
“Hey what the hell man! You’re the one cuttin’ in on my boyfriend time.”
“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t blocking the light.”
“Well I ain’t able to see otherwise.”
“Skill issue.”
“What?”
“Guys please, I’d like to not lose my fingers over this.”
The sound of Ryuji and Futaba’s bickering was silenced swiftly by Akira’s laughter. Currently the three of them were sat on the floor of his room, and his hand was trapped between their two grasps, both of them vying for the right to be able to see the glistening fresh coat of red polish that now adorned his nails.
“Man this ain’t fair,” Ryuji pouted, letting go of the hand Futaba was still trying to work on and busying himself with playing with Akira’s hair instead. “You guys practically live together- you can see him whenever you want, but I gotta wait ‘til the fuckin’ stars align just to get one free day in.”
“Sorryyyyy,” Akira sing-songed, leaning over to give his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek that would surely have him forgiven within seconds (if not sooner judging by the blush he left behind.)
“Oh please, you see each other at school every day,” Futaba rolled her eyes at them. “Also didn’t you guys just spend literally all Sunday together?”
“Yeah but that was like, days ago dude,” Ryuji scoffed. “I’m practically dyin’ over here.”
“Don’t worry babe, I’ll make it up to you.”
“Uhh not while I’m here you won’t,” Futaba wrinkled her nose, tugging Akira’s hand and thus his attention back to her. “So how ‘bout you sit still so I can finish this and make like a banana ‘n split.”
“Okay okay, I’ll be good,” Akira promised- for himself at least- he could make absolutely no claims on behalf of his boyfriend who was leaning against his shoulder and making it increasingly harder to stay balanced.
He wasn’t really sure what it was, but something about this process was absolutely captivating to Ryuji, and if Akira didn’t know any better he’d have said this was the first time the guy had ever seen anyone with their nails painted.
“Like the colour?” Akira asked, nudging his boyfriend’s head with his own.
“What? Oh- yeah it looks great,” Ryuji snapped back to attention. “Kinda like your gloves, huh?”
“That was sorta the idea,” Akira chuckled, admiring the hand that was already done. “It was either this or black, but I figure I have enough of that going on already.”
“Black nails?” Ryuji asked, sitting up a little straighter.
“Yeah, kinda can’t go wrong with black, but like I said- this pops a little more.”
“Yeah I guess,” Ryuji cocked his head. “I dunno though, black sounds pretty sick.”
“Want me to do yours next?” Futaba grinned. Her expression was teasing, but there was no malice behind her eyes- despite her griping, the offer was a genuine one.
“Wha- n-no I’m good thanks,” he folded his arms, sitting up straight from where he had been leaned against his boyfriend, though he kept a dubious eye on the small container with various colours that was on the floor next to her.
“Suit yourself then,” she shrugged, turning her attention to what was now the last coat on Akira’s final nail. “I’m all done with this, so I can leave you freaks be- if you promise not to mess up my work while it’s still wet and then complain about it later.”
“You have my word,” Akira chuckled, fanning his fingers out and waving them around to try and use the breeze as a way to dry them faster.
“Alrighty then, time for em to make like a tree and-”
“Hold on a sec!”
Futaba paused mid standing animation to look at Ryuji, who was still on the ground with his arms crossed looking more than a little pink around the ears.
“I’m holdingggg,” she said, staring very pointedly at him when he didn’t make another move. “I don’t have all day you know.”
“I- actually-” he stammered, biting his lip. “Couldyoudominetoo?”
“Sloooowwww down there buddy,” Futaba plopped back on the floor in front of them. “You gotta use your big boy words if you want me to know what the heck you’re talking about.”
He glared at her for a second before finally unfolding his arms, looking a little sheepish as he gazed at the floor and scratched the back of his neck.
“I just- wanted to know if you’d do mine too is all.”
“Well why didn’tcha just say so?” She laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward. “Lemme guess, you want the black right?”
Akira couldn’t help but giggle at the shell shocked expression on his boyfriend’s face, or the eager way he nodded in response to her question.
“Sounds cute,” he giggled, taking Ryuji’s free hand in his own. “Then we can be a pair.”
“Awe babe, c’mon,” Ryuji blushed, squeezing Akira’s hand. “Y’already know we are.”
“Hey, what did I tell you about being nasty while I’m here?” Futaba glared, shaking the bottle of black polish in her free hand.
“You said I wasn’t allowed to make up for missed time while you’re here,” Akira countered. “This is different.”
“Well we’re putting it all under the Nasty umbrella, and I don’t wanna see it,” she huffed as she unscrewed the lid and steadied Ryuji’s hand. “Now for the love of god, be still.”
As a general rule, being still was not one of Ryuji’s known strengths, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna try. Even from the outside Akira could see he was taking this 100% seriously, sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of Futaba and putting every ounce of concentration he had into watching her process.
“Quit staring, you’re freakin’ me out,” she complained. “It’s really not a big deal you know, I’m just painting your nails.”
“Awe, cut him some slack Tabby,” Akira laughed, giving her a nudge. “You can’t knock his enthusiasm.”
“Yeah, cut me some slack Tabby,” Ryuji pouted, before going “Hey!” when she painted a splotch of black on the back of his hand.
“‘Kira gets singular rights to Tabby, and you know that,” she turned her nose up at him. “Therefore ye must pay the Tabby-tax.”
“What the fuck is a Tabby-tax?”
“It’s the tax that says I can do whatever I want when you use a non-sanctioned nickname,” she stuck her tongue out at him before splotching his hand with black again. “Ergo, the tabby-tax.”
“What the hell man? I didn’t even say it that time,” He grumbled.
“No, but you were about to be a contrarian little bastard, I could feel it in my bones,” she shrugged. “Now would you two let go of each other for one minute so I can do his other hand please?”
Akira sighed dramatically but complied, releasing Ryuji’s other hand and instead wrapping himself around his boyfriend’s torso.
Futaba narrowed her eyes at them. “You’re getting awfully close to Nasty territory, you know.”
“Who, us? That can’t be right,” Akira smirked, nuzzling into Ryuji’s neck before chomping down on his shoulder (gently, but enough to make him jump and make her gag.)
“If you wanted me to any% speedrun this manicure, you could’ve just said so,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust before adding a new splotch of black to Ryuji’s clean hand. “There, we’ll call that ye olde Nasty Tax.”
“What the hell man? That ain’t fair- I didn't even do anything that time!”
“And here I was under the impression that you two were a pair,” she rolled her eyes and re-stoppered the bottle as she finished up his last nail. “If one of you is being nasty, you’re both being nasty- that’s just a fact of life baby.”
“She makes a solid point,” Akira said with a shrug.
“Yeah, and she also makes a bunch of black shit all over my hands,” Ryuji grumbled, staring at the spotty mess she had left on him.
“Oh don’t be such a baby,” Futaba rolled her eyes and procured a cotton ball that she then soaked in polish remover. “I wouldn’t’ve done it if I didn’t have a way to clean you up.”
“Couldn’t’ve had a way of cleaning it that don’t smell like such shit?” Ryuji wrinkled his nose as she dabbed away the paint on his hand. “I ain’t gonna have any nose hairs left after this.”
“‘Kira, remind me again why you put up with this guy?”
Ryuji glared at her but Akira just smiled and leaned his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.
“‘Cause he’s cute,” he shrugged, eliciting an audible eye roll from her.
“Get better taste.”
“Please don’t get better taste.”
“I happen to think my taste is great,” Akira rolled his eyes, pointedly staring at both of them. “So I’m not hearing it from either of you.”
Ryuji blushed sheepishly, mumbling a soft “love you” under his breath as Futaba shook her head affectionately, getting to her feet and gathering up her little basket of nail supplies as she threw the cotton ball in the trash.
“Well I think I’m done now,” she said. “So if you want anything else, speak now or forever hold your peace- otherwise I’m outta here.”
“I think we’re good,” Akira laughed. “We thank you for your expertise, Tabby.”
“Yeah, thanks T-” Ryuji paused, withering under her glare. “Thanks Futaba, forreal though it’s pretty sweet.”
“Glad you like it,” she beamed, the near-use of the forbidden nickname already gone from her mind. “I wasn’t sure if it was gonna be your thing or not, but I think you’re rockin’ it.”
“Ya think so?” He said, putting his pointer and pinky finger out in the sign for rock’n’roll. “I didn’t know how I was gonna feel at first but I kinda dig it.”
“I think it looks great,” Akira kissed the corner of his mouth, feeling the heat of his boyfriend’s blush under his lips. “Very attractive quality if you ask me.”
“Aaaaaand that’s my cue to go,” Futaba bowed hastily as she scampered out of the room. “Text me later so I can let Mona know when it’s safe to come back! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“No promises!” Akira called after her as she descended the stairs out of sight, then turned to gently take Ryuji’s hands in his. “I really do think it looks good though.”
“Yeah me too,” Ryuji grinned, admiring the way their hands looked laced together. “Guess tryin’ new stuff is good sometimes, cuz you get cool shit like nail polish or whatever.”
“Absolutely, only problem is waiting for it to dry.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“I mean you’re gonna have to try to keep your hands still and out of my hair for a bit if you don’t wanna ruin the paint job.”
”For real?” Ryuji’s mouth dropped open, looking more like he’d just learned he failed every exam ever, and not that he just had to sit still and not play with his boyfriend’s hair for an hour. “Man I changed my mind, nail polish sucks.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to get through it,” Akira chuckled, taking Ryuji’s poor downtrodden face in his hands and pressing their lips together for a quick kiss. “Or I’m sure I could find a way to distract you if necessary.”
“I’ll take a distraction please,” Ryuji breathed through the effort it was taking him to keep his hands folded neatly without fidgeting. Akira couldn’t help but laugh, hanging his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders where his own less-than-dry nails could dangle loosely out of the way, and pulling them closer as he did.
“I thought you might say that.”