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A bowling alley isn’t Song Lan’s favourite place in the world—he’s just never been a big fan of the sport—but he’s more than happy to watch Xingchen do his best to win a game. Unfortunately for them both, however, at the current moment, he’s not watching his husband play; Song Lan’s got his eyes set on a particular item from the bowling arcade, set in a particular game, and he’s determined to get it. For while he normally doesn’t seek out arcades and their games on his own, he very much enjoys them when he has the opportunity to be in one. He can’t say he has any one game as a favourite, but he normally does do very well at claw machines, so Song Lan often enjoys them more than any other game.
Today, however, just like he isn’t watching Xingchen bowl, Song Lan isn’t doing well with this bowling alley’s claw machine in particular.
The machine takes five yuan for every play attempt, and he’s currently about two hundred and twenty yuan in, now. Xingchen would probably give him a piece of his mind if he knew, but Song Lan isn’t going to let that deter him, because he’s trying to win something for his husband.
Though, if he knew that, he’d really try to get me to stop. Song Lan thinks to himself as he inserts more yuan into the machine, going for another try. His dear husband, for as much as he likes to spoil Song Lan, seems to attempt to disuade him whenever Song Lan tries to spoil him right back, and always insists that he doesn’t need anything, or that Song Lan shouldn’t do so much for him. It grinds his gears at times, as he just wants to return the kindness his husband so loves to give him, but he knows Xingchen doesn’t do it out of malice. There really isn’t a malicious bone in his body, for one, and for two, Song Lan just knows he does it because he simply doesn’t think Song Lan should. Unfortunately for Xingchen, however, that sentiment is precisely what makes Song Lan want to do these things for him—to spoil and show him as much love as he can—since he tends to not say so verbally very often. He’s sure his husband would say something if such a thing bothered him, and it’s not that Song Lan necessarily thinks it does, but any excuse to do something nice is reason enough to do it, right?
“Dammit,” Song Lan runs a hand through his hair in frustration, murmuring to himself as he, once again, watches as the claw drops the thing he wants; he really isn’t so bad at claw games, so he doesn’t understand why he’s not able to get this specific item! It’s not even abnormally shaped, it’s just a little bear he thinks Xingchen will like! He’s won other objects of all sizes, yet he can’t get a little bear? He honestly feels a bit put out!
Fine. One more game, and I’ll leave this alone whether I win it or not. He decides, not wanting to spend much more time not watching his husband. Though while he really does want to win the toy, watching Xingchen takes precedence, in his mind.
But he really doesn’t want to admit defeat here, either, so he puts in ten yuan this time. While it’s technically enough for two games, since he put it in at the same time, it’ll count as one. Surely anyone could see such logic.
There’s a commotion behind him—people cheering and congratulating someone who must have scored, he heard the pins fall just before—and he chances a glance up into the glass of the machine. From the reflection, he can see that someone happens to be standing behind him, but he refocuses his attention on the machine almost immediately. If someone’s been waiting, then they can say something; so long as they don’t attempt to touch him (he isn’t fond of most doing so), then he has no issue with them looking over his shoulder. Clearly they aren’t mad at him, either, or else he’d likely have heard word about it. Though, at this exact moment, he wouldn’t have cared if they were or not; after so long, the claw has finally caught onto the bear and is actually clasped around it securely! Oh, Song Lan could cheer over this, he really could!
Just in time; if Xingchen’s won, then it can be like a gift. He thinks to himself rather proudly, retrieving the bear from the machine’s reward area and making sure to dust it off. Who knows how long it’s sat in the machine! And if he’s somehow lost, then it can be something to cheer him up. Truly a versatile little thing.
After all, who could hate a stuffed animal, especially one so cute as this? With its glassy black eyes, button nose, and soft light brown fur, he’s hard-pressed to think anyone could even so much as dislike the thing. It was the perfect present, whether as congratulations or consolation, for his husband.
“Sorry about the long wait,” Song Lan starts to apologize as he turns around, though he’s just as ready to say that there’s at least a free round at playing the machine since five of his last ten yuan is still in the machine. Unfortunately, to tell the person behind him that there’s a free round is a moot point, because the one behind him happens to be the very person he’d even come to the arcade; Xiao Xingchen himself, who looks like he’s desperately trying not to laugh while also come across as reprimanding. Song Lan’s cheeks heat up as if he’s been scolded already anyway; so he had witnessed…who knows how many of his attempts, and who knows for how long. Curse Xingchen for being so quiet in movement, and curse him for being so engrossed with the machine that he didn’t even notice his husband’s presence!
“I can explain.” He says, embarrassed but purposeful, because really, he can. He has a fool-proof explanation, even, he really feels so.
“Oh, I’m so sure.” Xingchen chuckles, a sound that Song Lan adores. “You can explain all two hundred and thirty yuan you put in.”
“I only used two hundred and twenty-five.”
“Ah! So responsible, my dear A-Lan, you truly are!”
Song Lan sighs; he knows when he’s being teased, no matter how endearingly it’s said. He can’t find it in him to mind, however, as Xingchen once again laughs. It’s not aimed at him, thankfully, so he doesn’t really mind. It never has been, in general, so it’s not as though he expected it to be.
“That aside, this’s for you.” He clears his throat, taking a step towards Xingchen so he can hold the spoils of his efforts up to him. “A reward, though to also make up for, regretfully, missing more of your game than I anticipated.”
Again, versatile present, multi-faceted in meaning. And, if nothing else, Xingchen takes the bear carefully from his hands and holds it as if it were a precious jewel, so he knows it’s accepted.
“It’s a lovely little thing,” he agrees, tone still amused; not quite teasing like before, but rather truly grateful for the bear. “Very cute; the kids will surely be envious! And I do appreciate that you took so much time to win it, as much as I want to joke about it.”
Song Lan has half a mind to joke around too—because really, it was as if the machine knew he wanted the bear, and thus did what it could to keep him from getting it—but he simply sighs again with a shake of his head. “The time was nothing; so long as you’re happy with it, so am I.”
And he is, he truly is; and Song Lan knows Xingchen really isn’t mad at him from the way his husband smiles at him, expression loving and warm, anyway, so there’s really nothing more to say about it.
“Well, speaking of the game, the last one I was part of just ended,” Xingchen continues on to a new topic, though Song Lan doesn’t mind, “so why don’t we call it a night here? There’s still the matter of dinner, and if we leave now, we can bring something home. We left the kids with food, but you know how they get.”
Song Lan hums, now at his husband’s side so that he can go back and retrieve their belongings before they go. “I’m sure they’d be happy if we brought them something besides, so there’s no harm in it.”
There’s not even a need for him to agree to leaving aloud, so he feels no need in expressing his thoughts on the matter; for while the bowling alley is fun, there’s no need to stay if the games are over. Whether Xingchen won or lost is still to be known, but Song Lan’s had his fill of the night, and clearly his husband had as well, or he wouldn’t have suggested leaving to begin with.
“I’m so sure.” Xingchen laughs again, holding the bear up a bit. “Besides, taking food home means there’s less chance of this one getting dirty, so it’s likely for the best.”
Song Lan doesn’t necessarily see how that’s true, but he doesn’t comment on the matter; the mechanics of his husband’s mind can still be a bit of a mystery sometimes (and he’s known him many years, it’s truly the funniest thing in his eyes), though they’re interesting nevertheless. With a small snort of amusement, he simply brushes his hand across Xingchen’s elbow as he goes past him; while he’s touched his husband significantly more than anyone else in his life, he still doesn’t do it all the time. Xingchen smiles at him again, anyway, so he knows his husband understands what it meant.
So, with belongings in hand, bowling shoes returned, and the new bear tucked very lovingly into Xingchen’s arm, the two walk off into the night, hearts full and date night a success.