#I wonder if technically it'd also work with the fake dating prompt?

[golden-redhead]

Oumota Week 2019 - Day #7 || Wedding

Summary: Stuck in the middle of an unfair political game, Kokichi tries to make the best of it. 

Read on AO3.

- - -

“Ouma! Where the hell did he—oh, thank god, there you are.”

Kokichi doesn’t move from his spot, leaning over the balustrade and observing the flickering lights of the party below in the gardens, the soft breeze playing with the long strands of dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. This high he can hear the hushed conversations of their guests, laughing and dancing, drinking toast after toast — for their united kingdoms, for no more wars, for his new-found love. 

Love. 

Love is a laughable concept in a world like this, a luxury most cannot afford, regardless of how many coins lay in their chambers. No, Kokichi was fairly young when he realized love is a valuable currency that can decide the future for generations to come, used to both unite and divide. Marriage was a powerful weapon, one that tended to be underestimated by those who couldn’t grasp its full power. But people like his mother, oh, they knew just how to make things play out in their favor, how to win a losing game, casualties be damned. 

This time it just so happened that he was one of those casualties. 

It doesn’t really come as a surprise, he’s always known how vile and wicked his mother could be, but given everything, he really thinks that he deserves to be at least a little bit resentful about the whole ordeal. Celestia Ludenberg is a cunning creature by nature and it does not come as a surprise that she would use her own son as a trump card. Admittedly, it’s not like Kokichi wasn’t well aware that his mother wouldn’t hesitate to feed him to the wolves if it happened to fit her current agenda. If anything, he’s surprised it took her this long.

“Oi, you hear me?” Kaito’s voice seeps in through the murmur of his thoughts, intrusive and expectant, bordering on annoying. 

Kokichi groans exaggeratedly, finally turning to face him, a condescending look crossing his face as he regards Kaito with as much irritation as he could utter. 

“It’d be hard not to hear you. Your voice could wake up the dead.” He giggles into his hand as the idea crosses his mind. “I bet waking up to that would make anyone wish they could die twice.”

Kaito’s brows furrow in a deep frown and he looks like he wants to bark out some kind of remark but seems to think better of it.

“We should get going, we’re gonna be called for our first dance soon,” he informs him impatiently instead.

Kokichi hums softly, looking up at Kaito over the rim of the glass he grips tightly in his hand, the deep, dark reds of the wine sloshing slightly inside. 

“Dunno, they seem to be doing juuust fine without us,” he comments, throwing another look at the colorful crowd of nobles and monarchs gathered under the balcony of his room. For all he knows, they couldn’t care less about whether the main attractions of the event are there or not. Their wedding is nothing more than a formality and half of the people invited for the celebration would pay good money for their heads on a silver platter. 

“Ouma—“

“Shouldn’t you call me by my name,” questions Kokichi, taking a sip of his wine, the drink tart on his lips. “People might get suspicious, you know. I am your beloved, after all. Why so formal?”

Kaito frowns, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck absentmindedly. He looks to the side, as if considering his words. 

“I guess, yeah,” he says finally. “It just feels weird. We don’t really know each other and yet here we are… Married!”

He chuckles nervously, as if he can’t believe it himself, and in other circumstances maybe Kokichi would have enjoyed it, seeing the prince from the enemy nation getting all uncomfortable and struggling to voice his real thoughts in those rare moments when there are no curious eyes following their every step, forcing them into a game of pleasant conversations and pretend affections. 

But the man before him is no longer the prince of the enemy nation, from now on they are supposed to lead a nation of their own and join the ruthless political game with no rules and no guidelines, bearing the responsibility for every soul that had the misfortune of being born under their rule. 

Disgusting. 

Everything about this situation is simply disgusting and so Kokichi puts on the sweetest smile and gets ready for the performance of a lifetime. 

He tilts his head back, exposing the white column of his neck adorned with a thin gold necklace that catches the light whenever he moves his head and batting his eyelashes with practiced sultriness. He looks nothing shy of scandalous in his rich red dress, lipstick smudged over his lips and the corset embroidered with gold thread hugging his narrow waist tightly. His clothing is a statement, albeit a subtle one, a quiet provocation meant for the chosen few. If someone were to ask he’d simply tilt his head innocently and pretend he’s merely wearing the shades of their emblem with pride and regard of traditions, just as expected from a prince. 

Judging by the furious, cold glares Celeste sends him whenever their eyes meet —she knows exactly what he’s doing, she catches the quiet intent behind his actions. The thought of getting under her skin ignites something rebellious and giddy in his stomach, a small consolation prize after he’s lost the war. He couldn’t stop the marriage, couldn’t prevent any of this from happening, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to go without a fight, not when there are still smaller battles to win. For now, he’s kind only on paper but he does not intend for it to stay that way forever.

“We really should get going,” presses Kaito again. “We are expected in the coronation room shortly.” 

Kokichi sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Well, since you already went through all the trouble of putting this ring on my finger,” he lifts his arm, showing off the amethyst adorning his pale finger, reflecting the lights seeping from inside the ballroom. “I suppose I can’t say no, can I?” 

“I guess not,” Kaito offers him a one-shoulder shrug. And then, as if hoping for a friendly conversation, one they’ve never had before, he adds: “Man, I can’t wait for this night to be over so I can just go to sleep and fucking rest.”

“That’s an interesting choice of words,” chirps Kokichi, smirking into his glass. 

“Huh?” Kaito sends him a confused look. “Why?” 

“Ohhh,” Kokichi perks up with interest, giggling gleefully, “has my dear husband forgotten what night we have today?”

“Uhh… What night?” Kaito asks unintelligibly. 

Kokichi’s at his side seconds later, sensually wrapping himself around his arm, half-lidded and accented with gold shadows, eyes twinkling in the dim light. A deep blush crawls on Kaito’s cheeks at the sudden proximity between them, staining them with a red tint. Kokichi’s hand sneaks to wrap around the tie wrapped loosely around Kaito’s neck, and he tugs at the velvety material, pulling Kaito closer, close enough that his breath ghosts over Kaito’s lips in a phantom kiss.

“It’s the night when we get to consummate our love,” Kokichi purrs sweetly, relishing in the choked up half-gasp and half-yelp Kaito rewards him with and the warmth radiating from his face. “Aren’t you excited, my beloved?”

He gives Kaito a moment to sputter and flush and fumble with some needless, weak protests as much as he wants, using the moment as an excuse to steal another sip of his wine, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he regards his husband with a critical look. 

Now, one of the admittedly not many good things about his forced union with Kaito is that he’s good looking. Ridiculously good looking, in fact. Kokichi isn’t sure if he would ever handle being forced into tying a knot with one of those sickeningly disgusting noble men Celeste so enjoyed gambling with. An easy win, she would call them with some kind of sick, twisted satisfaction, sending him a knowing wink over her shoulder moments before she would lead them to her bed chambers. 

Kokichi may not be her biological son but she’s taught him well, every well-thought little trick, every perfected tactic to wrap people around her dainty little finger. How to look, how to smile, how to speak, how to lie. How to enchant people with nothing but his voice, how to twist and shift words into something much more entrancing than any truth could ever be. 

With Kaito, though… He isn’t sure if any of it will be necessary. 

He lets his eyes rest on Kaito for a moment, take in every sharp curve of his jaw, the contour of his nose, the soft mauve of his eyes set on a surprisingly expressive face. He can’t quite place what is this feeling that settles low in his gut and stirs slightly whenever his eyes drift to Kaito, whenever their hands brush against each other. It’s nice, though. Surprisingly nice, warm and pleasant, something he hasn’t ever really felt before. 

He slips his hand into Kaito’s, almost startled by how warm, how soft it feels, and forces a little more natural, a little more genuine smile on his lips.

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t keep my dear mother waiting, right?”

Kaito’s head jerks in a nod, grateful for the change of subject.

Kokichi squeezes his hand and giggles, softly. 

“Lead the way then!”