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“Come on, just tell me!”
“Babe, you know that ruins the entire point of a surprise,” Josuke laughed, his mouth cracking into an amused grin. “We’re gonna be at my place in like, two seconds. Relax.”
Okuyasu huffed. Ever since that morning, when Josuke had pulled him aside with the promise of an “awesome surprise” waiting for him after school, Okuyasu had been antsy with anticipation. Big or small, Josuke’s surprises were always incredible, be they an extra scoop of strawberry chocolate-chip ice cream or a “bromantic” (as they’d described it) date night at Tonio’s. The last time Josuke had surprised him was with an unsupervised long weekend at the Higashikata house, courtesy of Tomoko’s annual teacher’s convention and multiple orders of Domino’s pizza.
Sure, Okuyasu gave plenty of impromptu gifts to his boyfriend — engagement ring Ring Pops and recently picked flowers from the lawn — but Josuke’s surprises were like distinctive moments in time, ceremonies to be treasured. Maybe it was because Okuyasu grew-up in a household where gestures of affection were few and far between, receiving neither simple good morning hugs nor backyard birthday parties with ice cream cake.
At times, he didn’t believe he was entirely deserving of the things Josuke gave him, despite how many times Josuke had held him and said, “You’re so nice and you’re so smart.” But he was gradually coming to accept that these were things, these acts of love and kindness, that he had the right to experience. Still, no matter how small a surprise from Josuke could be, Okuyasu anticipated any and all of them with an eager heart.
Thus, he spent most of the school day throwing out guess after guess as to what the surprise could possible be. As it turned out, fifty guesses of “ Donkey Kong 64 ” wasn’t the answer, nor was fifty guesses of “are you sure it isn’t Donkey Kong 64 ?”.
The second half of the school day was spent utilizing his most powerful ability (second to The Hand of course) — pouting. Pouting usually worked wonders on Josuke, eliciting showers of smooches and extra helpings of octopus sausages from Tomoko’s bento lunches. But despite how much Okuyasu pursed his lips and begged for an answer, Josuke remained tight lipped, only giving him playful smirks and punches in the shoulder “for being a big baby”.
And so it continued on their walk to the Higashikata household, with Okuyasu’s patience wearing so dangerously thin that he resembled more of a petulant child than a hulking high schooler.
“Look, we’re already here,” Josuke smirked, opening his front gate. “Was waiting really that hard for you babe?”
Okuyasu scrunched his nose. “Don’t make fun of me.”
They walked to the front door, hands intertwined and schoolbags dragging along the stone steps. But instead of immediately going inside, Josuke stopped, turning to look at Okuyasu with a somewhat stern expression on his (beautiful, gorgeous, stupidly handsome) face.
“Wait here a sec. Don’t come in ‘till I tell you to. And keep your eyes closed!”
Great, more waiting.
The whine Okuyasu made drew another low laugh from Josuke, who leaned forward give the boy a peck on the cheek. “Hey, it’s gonna be super worth it. ‘Kay?”
Okuyasu blushed and watched as Josuke slipped in through the front door, closing it directly behind him as if he didn’t trust his boyfriend not to follow. Well Okuyasu could. He was more than adept at listening and following directions. He’d admit he wasn’t the brightest of bulbs in the warehouse, but he was fully capable of anything even a trained dog could do.
No more than thirty-seconds (yes, Okuyasu had counted) had passed before Josuke’s voice yelled, “Aight! Come in! And don’t forget to close your eyes!”
With his eyes shut tight, Okuyasu pulled the handle and opened the door. The familiar, clean smell of the Higashikata’s house filled his nose. Tomoko always had scented candles lit in every room, with fragrances varying from cherry blossoms to freshly baked apple pies. It smelled the way a home should smell — no mildew or dust to choke his lungs the way it still smelled at his house, even after so much work had been put into fixing the place up.
As soon as Okuyasu blindly shut the door behind him, he heard Josuke say, “Okay babe, open your eyes!”
The sight before him was certainly nothing Okuyasu had expected. Not even in a million years.
At first glance, he thought Josuke was holding up a sizeable mass of white mush, like someone had scooped a bunch of mashed potatoes into his hands.
And then, Okuyasu realized that the pile of mashed potatoes was panting and very much alive.
It was a small white dog; a puppy, actually, with shiny, marble-black eyes and a pair of bat-like ears atop its head. Its snout was smushed into the middle of its head, jowls drooping downwards in a perpetual frown, looking somewhat like a little old man or Mr. Joestar when he fell asleep sitting up. And from the looks of it, the puppy was a bit on the chubby side, round and wrinkly — really, the resemblance to a heap of mashed potatoes was uncanny.
“Her name is Stevie!” Josuke grinned, stepping closer to Okuyasu, who could only respond with an unintelligible “Oh...” The dog — or rather, Stevie — hung before him with her little pink tongue poking from her mouth, and when Okuyasu looked down towards her dangling little legs, he saw a short, stubby tail furiously wagging away, somewhat like an airplane propeller.
“Ma brought her home yesterday morning. A few weeks ago a colleague at her middle school had a litter of French bulldogs and she couldn’t keep ‘em all, so she offered one to us!”
Okuyasu tentatively lifted a hand. She looked so soft .
“I named her Stevie, after Stevie Nicks. Ya’ know, from Fleetwood Mac. Ma was gonna name her something stupid like Nina, but I beat her at rock-paper-scissors for it.” Josuke noticed his boyfriend’s enamored expression, his eyes big and wide with awe as he stared at the chubby little puppy, hands raised in open palms just shy of Stevie’s tiny front paws.
“Ya’ wanna hold her?”
Okuyasu gasped, taken aback by the offer. “C-can I? Can I really hold her?”
“Yeah babe! ‘Course you can!” Josuke’s smile grew impossibly wider. If he stretched his face any more Okuyasu would be able to see the sides of his perfect, cavity-less molars.
Yet Okuyasu hesitated. Unlike a good many of boys his age, he’d never had a dog — let alone a pet — growing up. Never even got the chance to pet one up until he met Reimi’s (dead) golden retriever Arnold, and even then it was pretty weird considering the sizeable gash torn along his ghostly neck. But Okuyasu was sure he liked dogs, perhaps even a whole lot. He always smiled when he saw a dog frollicking around the neighborhood park in the company of its owner, and on more than one occasion he had to fight down the urge to stop and say hello to every dog he passed on the way to and from school.
But this dog, Stevie, she was so tiny and small , and he was so big and clumsy — never mind the destructive power of The Hand, which he could lose control over with one wrong move of broken concentration.
“But...but what if I drop her or sumt’in?” Okuyasu’s voice quivered, his fingers trembling with uncertainty.
At this, Josuke shook his head. “Oku, you ain’t gonna drop her. ‘Sides, if you do — and I know you won’t — Crazy D’s fast enough to catch her.” He pushed the puppy closer. “Come on babe, look how happy she is to see you!”
Stevie did look pretty happy, staring up at Okuyasu with her big black button eyes. That meant dogs liked you, right?
With a swallow, he let Josuke pass the puppy off to him, and just as he’d thought before, she was really soft. Warm too. She really was like a scoop of mashed potatoes, except with paws and a tail and big pointy ears that twitched this way and that. And that tongue too, just sticking out all “blep” and everything as if it was too big to fit in her mouth. He kinda wanted to poke it back in there, because what if it dried out or something?
As Okuyasu held her against his chest — using both arms to support her butt, just to be safe — he suddenly felt something wet lapping at his chin.
To his absolute amazement, Stevie, the puppy, was actually kissing him.
Tears prickled at the edges of Okuyasu’s vision, eyes shiny and wet as he began to softly weep with the surge of happiness in his heart. “S-she’s kissin’ me…” His lip quivered.
“Babe,” Josuke quipped, “are you crying? ”
Okuyasu sniffled with a tiny nod, tears streaming down his cheeks to the delight of Stevie’s quick little tongue, which licked away at the salty wetness collecting along his jawline. “She’s so cute…”
Josuke laughed, light and reassuring, and wrapped an arm around his stupidly adorable boyfriend’s waist. “Yeah man, and so are you!”
Twenty minutes later, when Tomoko Higashikata finally walked in through the front door after a long Monday, arms full with the weekend’s homework to grade, she found her son and his best friend/boyfriend/her second son standing in the hallway with their new French bulldog.
Okuyasu was (still) crying with the absolute biggest, most grateful smile on his face that she’d ever seen.
Over the next month or so, Josuke learned that his boyfriend was a giant pushover when it came to dogs.
Despite his trepidation the first time he met the puppy, Okuyasu quickly — if not immediately — grew to completely adore Stevie, and it had escalated to the point that the both of them joked about the Frenchie being their adopted child. In a way, they were like a couple of parents; Okuyasu was over the Higashikata household practically every day, always waiting downstairs enjoying some morning tea with Tomoko before they walked to school together, or coming by after his shift at Tonio’s for some Nintendo 64 and “snuggling”. Stevie was therefore just as much Okuyasu’s dog as she was Josuke’s, and this was something Okuyasu took complete delight in.
Apparently, Okuyasu never had any pets growing up (not even a fish), and so the experience of having a little creature around that he could pet and play fetch with was totally new to him. He was a bit overly cautious in the beginning, always checking with Josuke that he was holding her right or what her little hops and skimpers around the back door meant. (“Josuke! I can’t tell what she wants! Does she want more puppy food or does she need to do her business? Ya’ gotta tell me man!”) But it wasn’t very long until Okuyasu was rolling around the floor rough housing with the scrappy little puppy, and once, Josuke had come back from his monthly hair-product errands to find his boyfriend and Stevie fast asleep in the puppy bed.
There was no doubt Okuyasu adored Stevie — and Josuke wouldn’t lie, at times he even felt just the tiniest bit jealous — but Josuke quickly discovered that Okuyasu had a penchant for spoiling the little bat-eared marshmallow of a dog.
He’d buy dozens of studded dog collars for her (“Gotta make sure my little girl looks tough when she’s hangin’ with us!”) and dog bones bigger than her entire self. Despite how many times Josuke had told him that Stevie was on a special diet that limited her to the vet-recommended puppy kibble they always fed her, he’d caught Okuyasu multiple times sneaking bits of pizza crust and spaghetti (his own, not Tonio’s, thank god) to her under the dinner table, so now the Frenchie would sit by Josuke’s feet whenever he ate and look at him with those big black eyes, begging for hand-outs.
If they were in the middle of making out (or participating in other forms of physical activity) in Josuke’s bed and Stevie happened to waddle along, god dammit if Okuyasu didn’t just stop whatever they were doing altogether because “she wants to come up an’ snuggle with us Josuke!”. Hence, much of their fornicating had to be done at the Nijimura house from then on.
And Okuyasu would be completely dedicated to teaching the puppy all sorts of new tricks — roll over, shake, speak — and showering her with praise, but he was hardly much help with house training, considering he never scolded her. The led to Josuke having to scrub pee puddles from the carpet more than once a week.
(Okuyasu did, however — and this was pretty damn cool — teach Stevie to poop on the lawn of local mangaka and sentient stalk of grouchy broccoli Rohan Kishibe whenever they took her for walks past his house.)
All together, Josuke didn’t really mind that Okuyasu spoiled Stevie so much, or that he’d literally drop whatever the hell he was doing to pick her up for cuddles.
What Josuke did mind was how much Okuyasu kissed Stevie...on the mouth.
Okuyasu loved the puppy’s kisses and lapping tongue like nobody’s business. It was, after all, a sign of affection, something which Okuyasu received with the absorbency of a sponge, no matter who bestowed it upon him.
Thing was that Okuyasu had absolutely no qualms about Stevie licking him on his lips with a little pink puppy tongue that often lapped at floors, the bottom of Josuke’s shoes, and even her own crotch for god’s sake. If that wasn’t gross then Koichi was Michael goddamn Jordan.
And knowing exactly where Okuyasu’s mouth had been made kissing him that much harder.
This afternoon, the two of them were engaged in their weekly Super Smash Brothers tournament, which Josuke was at the present moment loosing. As per the rules of the match, the loser had to do whatever the winner said for the rest of the night. Previous trials the loser was put through included drinking an ungodly concoction of milk, juice, and mouthwash; prank calling Rohan by asking to speak with “Amanda Hugginkiss”; and, inevitably, things that were very much private between the two of them.
“Man, why’dya keep choosing Mario as your main? Mario sucks.” Okuyasu punched Josuke in the bicep, gleeful as the match was called in Donkey Kong’s favor. That made it four wins for Okuyasu and three wins for Josuke. Best out of ten (or eleven, should a tie-breaker be needed) was declared supreme overlord for the night.
With said three losses in a row, Josuke was about ready to chuck his controller across the living room. Not that it would’ve mattered, of course — Crazy Diamond was always ready to clean up after his rage quits.
“Whatever babe. I’m just not on my A-game today. That math test is still haunting me.” he grumbled, reaching for another handful of chips. His fingers, showever, scraped nothing but crumbs and the bottom of the snack bowl between them.
Josuke frowned. “I’m gettin’ more chips,” he said, rolling up off the floor and into the kitchen, ignoring his boyfriend’s jab of “Yer’ just tryin’ to delay the ass whoopin’ I’m gonna give ya’!”.
As he poured out another bowl of shrimp chips — Okuyasu’s favorite brand, because he was a great, attentive boyfriend — Josuke heard the familiar pitter-patter of puppy feet racing down the stairs, followed by a joyful cry of “Stevie!” from Okuyasu. The Frenchie must’ve just woken up from her nap (on Josuke’s bed, of all places) and come down to see what all the yelling was about. Stevie usually liked to watch their Smash tournaments from the couch or their laps, but after taking her on a good long walk around the neighborhood after school, she had immediately dozed off on top of Josuke’s pillow.
(Chasing Okuyasu around the park probably didn’t help much either.)
With the bowl refilled, Josuke walked back into the living room with the full intention of pulling an upset victory over Okuyasu. When he won, he was going to make his boyfriend give him back massages for the rest of the goddamn night.
However, to his complete and utter annoyance, he found that Okuyasu was doing it again .
“Stevie! Yer’ so cute Stevie!” Okuyasu cooed between kisses, his arms full with all five kilograms of the French bulldog gladly licking the boy’s lips and chin. “Who’s a good girl?”
Josuke groaned. It really didn’t seem to matter to Okuyasu where that mouth had been. For god’s sake, she’d even picked up a rotten banana peel in the park earlier! How was he supposed to get all his lovin’ on with his best guy knowing those lips were a petri dish of dog germs?
“I’m not kissing you anymore, Dog Breath.”
Okuyasu looked up, Stevie still lapping away at his cheek. “Ah, come on Josuke! Don’t tell me ya’ve never smooched your dog!”
“Not on the lips, no. I know where that little mouth of hers has been,” he said, face scrunched in disgust as he sat back on the floor, careful to place the bowl of chips up on the coffee table (and out of the puppy’s reach). “You’re so weird babe. How do you not think about all the crotches she’s licked and all the garbage we’ve had to pull from her mouth?”
“Guess I just don’t care. S’not such a big deal, specially when she’s so cute.” Okuyasu grinned, big and dopey the way that typically made Josuke’s heart melt. He settled Stevie into his lap, where she curled up and rested her chin against his knee, stubby tail still wagging away. “So what, you really don’t wanna kiss cuz ya’ got this thing ‘gainst kissin’ Stevie?”
Josuke frowned. “Yeah, because it’s gross dude. I don’t want my dog’s sloppy seconds!” Nor did he want to think about whether Okuyasu’s lips were now home to all the butts Stevie sniffed on her afternoon walks.
“I bet you wouldn’t mind it if ya’ tried it.”
“What? ” Josuke balked, looking his boyfriend over with incredulous eyes.
“How ‘bout this?” Okuyasu started, still grinning from ear to ear, “If I win this tournament, you gotta let Stevie kiss ya’ on the mouth . For five whole seconds.”
At this, Josuke looked to Stevie. Her ears twitched at the sound of her name, tongue darting out to lick her nose wet and shiny as if acknowledging that yes, she was, in fact, a dog. But it was the big, glossy expression in her eyes that truly interested him; if he squinted hard enough, they actually seemed to be egging him on. “Come on Josuke, I bet you don’t want to kiss me enough to stop sucking at Smash .”
And then there was that little — but nonetheless prominent — hot blooded spark of competition that inevitably arose between two teenage boys and a Nintendo 64, regardless of whether they’d made-out in the school broom closet or not. As much as Josuke adored Okuyasu, he wasn’t about to back down on a stupid wager. Or lose at Smash . Or make-out with his dog.
So with an indignant huff, Josuke picked his controller back up, fully prepared to beat the ever-loving crap out of stupid-ass Donkey Kong. “Fine! But if I win, you better be prepared to eat a wasabi sandwich to get rid of your dog breath!”
“You tryin’ ta’ kill me?”
“Shut up and pick an arena babe.”
For the next twenty or so minutes, the two boys duked it out for the fate of Josuke’s lips (and Okuyasu’s sensitive taste buds) in what could only be described as a battle between egos, mashing buttons and shaking their controllers with crazed sneers on their faces, each shouting a new — and rather creative — string of insults and curse words at the screen. Sweat broke out on Josuke’s brow; strands of hair came loose from his pompadour and fell into his eyes, but he couldn’t afford to brush them out of his sights. With the way Okuyasu played, he needed to focus all his attention on his gameplay if he was going to avoid Donkey Kong’s rampage.
And avoid Josuke did — by flying too far off the platform and into a freefall of death.
“Ha! Ya’ better start puckerin’ up there bro!”
“Lucky break! I still got two games to even it out, and then I’ll kick your Kong ass in the tie-breaker!”
“Man, try winnin’ one first!”
Despite all of Josuke’s big-talk and aggressive button-mashing, the next — and as it would be, the final — round ended for him as triumphantly as the previous one did. Mario had Donkey Kong on the ledge, just one move, on button press, one push away from claiming a comeback victory. It was so easy even a blind cat could do it. Josuke clenched his teeth, breath stalling in his lungs as he hit up and B for a super jump punch…
“AH HA! Suck my ba- NO! ”
...too close to the edge, and with practically no way for Josuke to control Mario after the “finishing move”, he could only watch in astonished horror as Mario dove into into oblivion with a pathetic “ waaaaahhhh! ”.
Okuyasu whooped, pumping his fists in the air. “Yes! Yes! I am the supreme overlord champion of Smash! Okuyasu Nijimura, konging his way to yet another awesome victory!” And Stevie, who’d been faithfully watching the screen the entire time, began to bark and wag her tail, wiggling around in Okuyasu’s lap with an excited burst of puppy joy.
“I can’t...I can’t…” The controller drooped and fell from Josuke’s hands, color draining from his face as he gaped at the screen. He screwed up. He was so unbelievably close to winning and he’d just screwed it up. “What happened ?”
“Ya’ just won a smoosh from a cute lil’ pooch! That’s what happened!” Okuyasu gleamed, scooping Stevie up and into his outstretched arms, holding her above his head like the world’s cutest trophy.
Josuke drew back as the chubby little Frenchie was shoved in his face. “Aw man, she’s got worse breath than you do in the morning!”
“Hey, don’t insult her man!”
“She’s a dog .”
Okuyasu wriggled the puppy closer, her little legs swaying with each jerk. “ But Josuke-papa, I wuv you~ ” Oh for crying out loud, not the stupid baby voice. If there was one other thing that came close to Josuke’s disgust towards man-on-dog kissing, it was his boyfriend’s unlistenable vocal work on Stevie’s behalf, making the dog “speak” in a squeaky, ear drum-gouging tone.
“Oku, babe, quit it.”
“I’m just a widdle puppy! I ain’t done nuffin wrong! ”
“It’s not cute.”
“I’m just a teeny widdle puppy~ ”
“Stop.”
“I sure do wike yer pompadoor…~ ”
“ALRIGHT FINE! JUST LEAVE THE POMP OUTTA THIS!” Josuke shrieked, pushing Okuyasu away before he could shove Stevie any closer towards his immaculately styled hair. His pompadour was a dog free zone, thank you very much, and with the way Stevie had been pulling the stuffing out of her puppy toys lately, he wasn’t about to let her anywhere near his ‘do. “Ugh, but you gotta let me brush my teeth afterwards, got it?”
With a grimace, Josuke closed his eyes, ignoring the sound of Okuyasu calling him “a wimp” under his breath. Was it really so weird that he didn’t want to get dog slobber all over his perfectly handsome, kissable lips?
“‘Aight Josuke!” Okuyasu was giggling . “Pucker up!”
The first thing Josuke felt was that tiny wet tongue give a few tentative licks to his chin. Then, he heard the soft, but unmistakable, sound of squeaking . Being as little as she was, Stevie didn’t necessarily bark so much as she squeaked like a tiny piglet, especially whenever you rubbed her belly just right or scratched behind her ears. Apparently, it was a sign of enthusiasm in small puppies, and by the way Stevie was squealing away, she must’ve really liked Josuke’s minty chapstick.
“One...two...”
As Stevie began to lap at his lips and cupid’s bow, Josuke’s face scrunched up like a piece of dried fruit, spluttering as the wet smell of puppy kibble filtered through his nose and to the back of his mouth. Her front paws propped up against his jaw, pushing his head back with such a sudden and unexpected force that Josuke opened his eyes. Not that he could see very much, just a very close-up pair of ears.
“Three...four…”
“Mmmfff!”
With the Frenchie practically crawling up onto his face, Josuke had no choice but to suffer through the full brunt of wet, sloppy puppy kisses. It was certainly a many number of thing he’d expected — slimy, damp, kinda smelly — but to his shock, he found himself not quite hating it as much as he expected to. If he didn’t think too much about where Stevie’s mouth had been, being smooched by his dog wasn’t totally unbearable. Still not something he’d like to do in his spare time, but still.
“Five!” At the final count, Okuyasu pulled Stevie (and her wet kibble breath) away, plopping her down into Josuke’s lap with a laugh. “Ahaha, it looked like she was tryin’ to lick the boogers from yer’ nose man!”
Josuke wiped the dog slobber from his mouth, surprised to find he didn’t feel any grosser than when the other boy kissed him with rank morning breath. “Yeah, well, she almost kisses as bad as you used to doll face.” He scooted over towards Okuyasu, whose cheeks were starting to turn different shades of red.
“H-hey! I wasn’t that bad!”
“You kinda were babe.” (To be honest, they both had to overcome a significant amount of suckage before they could be anywhere near decent kissers. Okuyasu may have been sloppy, but Josuke always ended up ruining it by banging their teeth together.) “Maybe Stevie’s been taking lessons from you!”
The two erupted into a burst of giggles, arms slung around each other’s shoulders and waists as their chubby French bulldog puppy nuzzled into Josuke’s thigh, warm and snug against him like an infant. He remembered the day his mother brought her home in a little crate stuffed with soft blankets; the way her nose brushed against his skin as she sniffed his hand and how her puppy feet smelled like popcorn for some reason or other.
She was so ridiculously easy to fall truly, madly, and deeply in love with — just like Okuyasu, now that he thought about it. Maybe that was why being kissed on the mouth by the little thing wasn’t as gross as he thought it’d be.
It was only when Josuke was about to get up and turn the Nintendo off that he realized poor little Stevie had gone right back to sleep on him.
“Aw, look, she got tired from all that Smash .” Okuyasu pet the top of her head, thumb running along the crook of her nose the way she seemed to like. “Hey, arentcha gonna go brush or floss or whatever dental hygiene you were gonna do?”
Josuke shrugged. “Nah,” he mumbled, resting his chin on the other boy’s shoulder, “not when she’s all snug.”
“Then how’s ‘bout a kiss? I still own ‘yer butt for the rest of the night.”
Regardless of how badly Josuke’s ass got handed to him in Smash , the unmistakable sparkle in Okuyasu’s eyes was something of a reward in and of itself.
And hey, it was sorta romantic to just start making out with his best guy while their furry adopted dog-child snoozed peacefully in his lap.
Just like a little family.
“Well, at least you don’t seem to mind dog breath.”