Immature - Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi
“There’s no way. There’s absolutely NO WAY.”
“Oh there’s a way. Trust me.”
“No. There’s no way out!”
“Just keep searching.”
Shuichi just continued to stare at the chess board, feeling utterly defeated. “This is useless. You’re just stringing me along to make me think I have a chance at winning, and as soon as my turn is over, you’re going to destroy me!”
“Saihara, there’s a way. I’m staring at it right now. It’s not exactly subtle,” Rantaro sounded annoyed, but Shuichi could tell by the hint of a smile on his face that he was amused.
“No! There’s no way! I don’t get this game. Amami, how are you so good at chess? Didn’t you say you don’t have a talent?” Shuichi knew he didn’t lose his cool often (read: never), but Rantaro’s innate talent for playing chess was infuriating. And it wasn’t just chess, either! Shuichi was actually pretty sure that Rantaro’s talent was being good at everything.
Rantaro just shrugged, the light smirk never leaving his face. “You just need to practice. To be fair, I thought you would be great at chess. That just seems like something the Ultimate Detective would be good at.”
“Well, apparently I’m not,” Shuichi let out a sigh and flopped back in his chair. “I think I’m done with this for today.”
“You aren’t even going to let me win?” Rantaro pouted in that stupidly adorable way that he knew Shuichi wouldn’t be able to resist.
But today, Shuichi was feeling stubborn. “Nope. Let’s do something else.”
“Ok, fine. What do you suggest?” Rantaro quirked a pierced eyebrow.
Shuichi closed his eyes and tried to think of something fun to do. Video games? No, Rantaro would beat him too easily. Cards? No, the game would be over before it even began. Karaoke? Well, Shuichi had never heard Rantaro sing, but he was pretty sure that he would lose desperately at that, too. Wait!
Shuichi’s head snapped up as he had a realization. “Clue! Yeah, let’s play Clue! There’s no way you would beat me at a game that’s literally about being a detective!”
Rantaro cocked his head as if he had to think hard about the suggestion. “Well, I guess we could try it.”
Shuichi hopped out of his chair and ran to the closet to find his old game set, feeling ready to finally have a win over Rantaro.
One hour later, he was under his bed covers pouting because God damn it all, he had lost at that, too. “Saihara? Come on, you can’t hide under there forever,” Shuichi heard Rantaro’s deep voice above him, and saw a shadow appear over his blanket.
“Watch me,” Shuichi knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it! He was annoyed!
Suddenly, the shadow was much bigger and closer to him, and he couldn’t help but startle a bit. “Shuichi,” Rantaro’s voice somehow dropped an octave and his breath was brushing through the blanket onto Shuichi’s face. As soon as he heard his given name uttered from those lips, a shiver ran down his spine.
“What?” Shuichi was surprised to find his voice barely came out as a whisper. He wasn’t sure where this tension came from, but the air suddenly felt hot and thick. His breaths were shallow, chest rising and falling quickly. The blanket was whipped off his body and replaced by Rantaro’s face inches away from his own.
“You’re being awfully immature, Shuichi,” Rantaro’s gravelly voice barely reached Shuichi’s ears because he was too focused on the fact that Rantaro was too close, too close, and there was nothing keeping him from pushing himself another inch forward to connect their lips.
Shuichi stared at Rantaro’s parted lips, and felt his tongue dart out to lick his own. God, since when did Rantaro have such beautiful lips? Come to think of it, when did that lip piercing get there? Shuichi briefly imagined what it would feel like to have those lips on his own: feeling the cool metal of that piercing brush against his lips before coaxing them open and taking all of Rantaro’s mouth for his own. Then he realized that he could. He could grab Rantaro by the back of the head and smash their lips together without mercy.
His eyes flickered up to the green ones opposite him for a brief moment. Nothing could have prepared either of them for what would happen next.
“Do it.”
Hearing those words practically drip from Rantaro’s mouth, something inside Shuichi snapped. He grabbed the collar of Rantaro’s shirt and pulled him down to crash their lips together. Rantaro let out a grunt as he fell on top of Shuichi, crushing him against his bed. Shuichi took the opportunity to roll on top of Rantaro without ever separating their lips. Rantaro reached up and brushed his fingers along the nape of Shuichi’s neck before entangling his fingers in soft black locks of hair.
The kiss was anything but romantic, teeth knocking together as each boy tried to steal the other’s breath. Shuichi relented first, his lungs aching for oxygen.
As he pulled away and opened his eyes, he was met with a sight that would be burned into his memory for what he was sure would be the rest of his life.
Rantaro lay beneath him on his bed, pupils blown wide, t-shirt rolled up and exposing a sliver of pale skin. Green wavy hair fell on the bed beneath his head like a halo. His cheeks were flushed and his lips looked bruised. His chest heaved up and down, blowing hot air into Shuichi’s face.
Rantaro broke the silence first. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?” he sounded absolutely wrecked.
Shuichi found that he didn’t have an answer, so he opted for pressing his lips to Rantaro’s again. He didn’t know why they hadn’t done that sooner, so might as well make up for lost time.