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The man was breathing. How unfortunate. Daiki kept that opinion to himself, knowing Takara was a softer soul than he ever could be. His wonderful boyfriend -
Who had ran the car into some old fuck in such a way he’d landed perfectly in the family guy death pose-
was pretty much about to tear out his own hair as he walked circles around the praom form on the road.
Hmm. It was hard to tell in this lighting, but Daiki could swear the man looked a lot like the boss. Well, his boss at the Blue Parrot. Kuroba still didn’t seem pleased that Isamu had hired Daiki officially, but tough shit.
Daiki lightly kicked the old man, frowning further when he stirred a little, when Takara suddenly clutched onto him, tears staining Daiki’s jacket.
“Oh god we’re going to jail!”
Daiki blinked, and awkwardly pat his boyfriend on his back. “First time?”
“Daiki-!” Takara whined. “Don’t joke at a time like this!”
Who said he was joking? Although it had certainly been awhile. “If we leave now we won’t go to jail.”
“Even worse! We can’t just leave someone to die-”
They were interupted by a groan, and then the old fuck actually stood back up. Even more unfortunate.
“Don’t worry, kids,” The should-have-been-manslaughtered-man said with a chuckle to his voice. “I’m fine. How about you don’t say anything about me being in the area and we will call this…even.”
Takara let go of Daiki and looked at the-unfortunately-not-a-corpse with wet eyes “Oh gosh I’m so sorry-!”
“Get your eyes checked and don’t walk in front of cars, old man.” Daiki snarked, because there was no way his perfect boyfriend was to blame for this.
“That, we can agree on.” The oh-he-really-does-look-like-Kuroba man said, smiling, and dusting off his pants, continued his trek across the steet. Daiki wished there was a comedically timed other car from the other direction, but the old man made it across the street and disappeared into the darkness of an alleyway.
“See, no jail.” Daiki said to his bewildered boyfriend. “Although…I think I’ll drive us home now.”