Work Text:
"Hey, Atsushi, have you ever heard of the Pocky game?"
Naomi’s question makes Atsushi tilt his head, blinking in curiosity. He spins his chair slightly, glancing at the black-haired girl standing next to him. “I don’t think I have. What’s it about?”
"Oh! So, technically, you have this side of the Pocky," Naomi says with a playful smile, holding the strawberry Pocky delicately between her fingers. The bright pink coating glistens under the light as she points to its tip. "The other person takes the other end of the Pocky. You both start eating it at the same time. The person who withdraws first is the loser."
The game sounds odd to Atsushi. He doesn’t understand why the two players have to compete to eat a Pocky stick. There are more than enough for two inside a Pocky pack anyway. But he doesn't say that, of course. He listens as the black-haired girl continues.
"Oh, and if neither of the players withdraws and continues," she says, drawing out the words dramatically as two red hearts appear behind her, floating together to form a kiss. "Their lips will meet for a sweet kiss."
The white haired man has to rub his eyes to ensure he isn’t seeing things.
"Well, you should try it when you have the chance," Naomi says, munching on the strawberry Pocky as she casually picks up the stack of paperwork on his desk. "Not with me, of course, but with someone else." Her tone rises slightly at the words ‘someone else’ before she winks at Atsushi, then turns and walks out the door.
Atsushi watches the girl leave, her words lingering in his mind. As he had said, he’d never heard of the Pocky game before, nor had he ever considered participating in it. Yet, Naomi’s suggestion sparks an idea that makes his cheeks flush a soft pink hue. He imagines playing the game with his boyfriend—his lips at one end of the stick, while the other’s lips rest at the other end. Slowly, their lips inch closer and closer as the Pocky stick shrinks with each bite, until finally—
“You’re thinking about your boyfriend, aren’t you?”
The question pulls the white-haired man out of his little imagination. Atsushi turns over his shoulder, panicking. “Wh-What are you talking about, Dazai?”
“Nuh-uh, don’t play innocent now, Atsushi,” Dazai says, his bandaged hands resting on the newspaper as he scans through it, his legs propped up on the desk. When he finishes reading the section, his brown eyes shift to Atsushi’s heterochromatic gaze. “It’s so obvious, you know?” The bandaged arm extends, writing letters to form a complete sentence in the air as the brunette speaks. “I desperately want a kiss from Chuuya.”
The brunette's claim causes Atsushi’s cheeks to turn a brighter shade of pink. His lips are sealed, unable to deny the accusation. Dazai lets out a laugh. “Awww, so cute of you, Atsushi. Wanting a little affection from that,” he adds, a hint of annoyance appearing on his face, “damn ugly slug.”
“Hey! Chuuya isn’t ugly. He’s beautiful,” Atsushi argues, shaking his head. “And please stop teasing me.”
The brunette rolls his eyes as his mentee starts to defend Chuuya, just how terrible Atsushi’s taste in men is—like his haircut. Then, a smirk appears on Dazai’s face, as if he’s discovered something fun. It gives Atsushi the creeps. “Whatever you have in mind, you should do it—the Pocky game thing.”
Atsushi gasps, looking in disbelief. Did Dazai hit his head hard against the ground when he was on his way to work?
“No, Atsushi. I’m perfectly fine, and my head is too.” The brunette clarifies as he reads what his mentee is thinking.
“Then why did you tell me that?”
“You want a kiss from him, right? Then go ahead. It’s a nice game for couples, after all.”
If those words had come from someone else in the ADA, the white-haired man would’ve easily believed them without hesitation. However, this is Dazai speaking. But then again, it is Dazai speaking, so Atsushi sighs and nods his head.
—
It’s lunchtime when Chuuya receives a call from Atsushi. Before they start dating, the redhead doesn’t really care much about eating lunch. In fact, he often skips it altogether, too focused on work or his own thoughts to bother with food. But after getting into a relationship with Atsushi, things start to change. Chuuya begins to eat more, not because he’s suddenly hungry, but because he enjoys spending time with Atsushi during meals, even if it's something as simple as eating through the phone. (Kouyou was so proud that she mentally cried when she noticed Chuuya had gained a little bit of weight.)
Since it’s Chuuya’s turn to buy groceries, he wants to ask Atsushi what he needs. Usually, Atsushi is the one who takes care of the shopping, so Chuuya is unsure of the items on the shopping list. “What do you need me to buy, dear?”
“Rice, eggs, and cooking oil.”
Chuuya writes the items down mentally as he nods his head, “Anything else?”
There’s a long silence from the other side, making the redhead raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Perhaps Atsushi is taking his time to think,” Chuuya wonders, patiently waiting for the white-haired man to speak up.
“Well, um…” Atsushi begins, his voice hesitant.
“Yes?”
“If…If you don’t mind…Could you buy some Pocky?”
“Pocky?” The redhead repeats, confused.
“Yes! Well, um... I just want to—” Atsushi speaks so fast and in such a quiet tone during that one specific part that the redhead can’t even hear him properly, even with the volume turned all the way up. Before Chuuya can ask him to repeat himself, the next words come through clearly. “Try Pocky, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, I don’t mind. I’ll buy them for you.”
“Thank you, my love.”
—
When Chuuya arrives at the store, he quickly searches for the items Atsushi requested: a bag of three ladies jasmine rice, a dozen eggs, and a large bottle of cooking oil. With those in his basket, he moves on to the next item on the list: Pocky. Heading toward the candy section, his sharp blue eyes scan the shelves, wandering through the colorful array of snacks. He stops abruptly when he spots the word “Pocky” printed on several boxes. But then, a problem arises: the flavor.
There are countless options displayed—chocolate, strawberry, matcha, and even some exotic limited-edition ones. Atsushi never mentioned which flavor he wanted. Chuuya lets out an exasperated sigh, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts. He quickly dials Atsushi’s number, hoping for an answer. The call, however, goes straight to voicemail.
Chuuya groans, staring at the overwhelming variety of Pocky boxes, as if the answer might magically appear among them. The redhead has never tried Pocky before—he's not much of a sweets person—so he has no idea what any of them taste like. With a resigned sigh, his gloved hand reaches out, grabbing a box of each flavor and dropping them into his basket. One by one, the brightly colored packages stack up, and before long, the basket is filled to the top with sweets.
—
After dinner, Atsushi shyly sits on the red leather couch, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. The redhead sits next to him as he holds a box of strawberry Pocky in one hand. He opens the box, even the packet inside before offering it to Atsushi. “There you go.”
“Thank you,” the white-haired man murmurs softly as he takes a single stick from the box. Placing the tip of the Pocky between his lips, Atsushi hesitates for a moment, his cheeks flushing with the same shade of pink as the Pocky layer. Gathering his courage, he leans in closer to the redhead, his face warm and flustered as he closes the distance between them.
But Chuuya is completely clueless about what his boyfriend is trying to do. His blue eyes narrow in confusion, and he instinctively leans back when the Pocky gets too close to his lips. He puts a little space between them, his expression practically screams confusion, “What the hell are you doing?” he asks, a clear question mark practically written across his face.
Atsushi seems disappointed for a bit, mumbling, “Trying out Pocky with you.”
The redhead flicks Atsushi’s forehead lightly. “Baby, why should I eat yours when there are more in the box?” he teases, pulling out a stick from the same box and biting into it. As he munches halfway through the Pocky, he adds nonchalantly, “And there are more in the pantry, you know.”
“There are more left in the pantry?” Atsushi asks, his voice rising in surprise.
Chuuya finishes his Pocky before shrugging casually. “Well, you didn’t say which kind you wanted,” he explains, reaching under the table to pull out five different Pocky boxes and setting them neatly on the surface for Atsushi to see. “When I got there, there were so many flavors, I couldn’t decide. So, I grabbed just a few I thought you might like to have here. The rest are in the pantry.”
Atsushi stands up and walks over to the pantry, curious to see just how many Pocky boxes Chuuya really bought. “Just a few ” turns out to be quite an understatement. He shakes his head, closing the door with a soft sigh before walking back to the couch. He sits down next to the redhead, his eyes wide in surprise at the number of boxes.
The redhead wears a satisfied smirk, clearly proud of his effort to let his boyfriend try as many flavors as he wants. Atsushi, however, wants to clarify that that wasn’t what he meant at all on the phone—he actually wanted to try the Pocky game. But for some reason, the words just won’t come out of his mouth. He sits there, smiling. “Oh, well…Another time it is.” He thinks.
—
Bonus:
Three days later, Chuuya mentions this to Kouyou, unsure why Atsushi had looked a little sad in that particular moment. Kouyou tries her best to cover her laughter behind the sleeve of her pink kimono, but fails miserably, her laughter spilling out despite her efforts to stifle it.
“I don’t think he was sad that you spent the money on snacks, lad.” She says, swallowing her laughs.
Chuuya tilts his head slightly, feeling embarrassed as he listens to his sister’s laughs. “Ha? Then what did he mean?”
“The poor guy wanted a kiss from you through a Pocky game.”
“WHAT?”
After the ginger-haired woman explains to him the rules of the Pocky game. Chuuya finally understands it.
It takes Chuuya three full days to realize Atsushi’s intentions on that day.
When Chuuya gets home from work, the first thing he does after taking off his shoes is look for Atsushi. “Why didn’t you tell me what you wanted a few days ago?”
“Huh? But you did buy all the groceries I asked for.”
The redhead approaches Atsushi on the couch and sits next to him. “I was talking about the Pocky game.”
“Oh!” Atsushi hadn’t brought up the topic again over the past three days, mainly because he was embarrassed. “I did tell you on the phone, though. You seemed like you didn’t want to play, so I never mentioned it again.”
“I didn’t hear a damn thing,” the redhead says, shaking his head. “You were speaking so quietly I couldn’t understand a word. But I did hear you wanted Pocky, so I thought you just wanted to eat them, not play a game with them.”
“It's fine though.”
“Do you still want to play the game?”
“Yes.”
Taking a green Pocky stick out of Atsushi’s hand, Chuuya places it in his mouth. He leans in against Atsushi, his gloved fingers caressing the white-haired man's bottom lip as a silent signal to open his mouth.
“You know how to play?” Atsushi parts his lips, taking the green layer of the Pocky. He begins to take slow bites.
The redhead’s hand settles on Atsushi's cheeks, gently caressing it as he takes bites too—but faster, as if it were a real competition. “Focus on the game instead, kitty.”
The distance between their lips shrinks as the Pocky stick gets smaller, until there’s nothing left. Chuuya can taste the creamy yet bitter matcha, mixed with the sweetness of Atsushi’s lips when they touch—far better than the last time the redhead had Pocky.
Pulling away from the kiss, the redhead pats Atsushi's head with his gloved hand. “I wouldn’t mind playing the game with you again. But next time when you want a kiss, just tell me, okay?”
Atsushi nods, leaning in closer as he wraps his arms around the redhead's shoulders. “I want another kiss.”
Chuuya smirks, thinking that his boyfriend is the cutest in the world as he presses his lips on the white-haired man once more.