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takenyoomies · 4 years ago

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Bonten Abbey: (mis)Aventures to the Arcade

Summary:

Sanzu Haruchiyo was known for many things...pill-popping, being late, and most importantly, wrecking the flow of the weekly Wednesday board meeting. What would this week hold? None of the other members of Bonten wanted to find out when he was once again late to the meeting which only spelled one thing for them. Disaster. Word Count: 8.7k Read on AO3

It was a Wednesday, and a Wednesday meant one thing for the Bonten gang. The weekly board meeting that nearly every single member in the top brass gang seemed to dread, loathe, and despise. It was often typical for each member to discuss their part for the designated five minutes. However, going over time would cause extreme tension in the sardine-can-sized conference room that would rival being trapped in a room with a rabid badger. In addition, there were times when other off-topic conversations occurred that in Akashi Takeomi’s quoted words were “an absolute fucking mess.” All in all, the meetings tended to go through without a hitch. However, today was not one of those days as Sanzu Haruchiyo strolled into the conference room with a shit-eating grin that rivaled no one else, fashionably late, of course.

“Hey, Sanzu!” An annoyed Mochi shouted at the man who entered, whipping his head around at the sound of the door closing, teeth barred and fists clenched in anger.

“Yo, Mochi.” Sanzu waved, trouncing over and sliding down into the uncomfortable and hard leather seat.

“We have a set meeting time, jackass.” Kokonoi hissed.

“Like he’d ever listen to that Koko….” Ran laughed, shaking his head.

“Important business called me.” The pink-haired man sighed blissfully, shrugging almost sarcastically to the platinum blond accountant’s dismay.

“I doubt that highly.” Rindou breathed.

“Oh, and what would that be?” Takeomi chimed in, a brow raised as he put out his cigarette.

“I’m so glad you asked!��

Reaching into his pocket with excited fingers, the pink-haired mullet sporting man pulled out a folded piece of paper. One would think this was some grandiose plan, some information regarding their competition, something important. But, no, Haruchiyo Sanzu unfolded the piece of colorful paper and slammed it onto the mahogany conference table, looking up at the group of men with a smirk.

“...Please tell me it’s actually important this time.” One of them said with a sigh. It didn’t matter which one.

“Oh, trust me, it’s of the utmost importance.” Sanzu assured, holding up his right hand, “Swear on Mucho’s grave.”

“The last time you used that, we ended up deserted at some movie theater that was showing a crappy porno...so that’s out the window, and you’re about to be too if this is something-” Mochi ranted, taking a glance at the piece of paper, “Are you fucking serious?” He asked in disbelief.

“What is it this time?” Kakucho finally spoke with an exasperated sigh, standing up from his seat and walking over to take a look at the piece of paper, “An arcade?” He asked with a raised brow as he looked over to the pink-haired man.

“Yeah, they’re running a deal where if eight people come as a group, you get 50% off.” He leaned back in the chair, putting his feet onto the table with a thud, “Therefore, I think we should take advantage of it and get off our depressed asses for a change.” Sanzu concluded with a nod.

There was a click in the background as Takeomi lit another cigarette. “I’m fine without having to babysit for the day.” Takeomi stated, then taking a heavy hit off of the cigarette, exhaling upward, “Interrupting a meeting for this is rather pointless, Haruchiyo Sanzu….”

“I think it sounds like a good time. Reminds me of when we were back in Tenjiku, right Rindou?” Ran turned to his brother, who sighed and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess there’s some nostalgia there.” The younger Haitani agreed.

“2-1.” Sanzu stated, pointing to the others in the room, “Mochi, Kakucho, Koko….” He said to each as he pointed to each of them with his index finger, pausing as he hovered over the sleeping Mikey, not daring to wake him up.

“It’s a waste of our funds, and judging from the fact we recently recovered from the great Bonten Has To Eat Instant Noodles For Two Months issue...It’s a no from me as well.” Kokonoi explained as he slid his hands together, “I’m sadly not in the mood for instant noodles again.”

Sanzu rolled his eyes, “Stop being a drama queen, and it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was fucking awful. What the fuck are you talking about?” Mochi argued, “Just for that, it’s a no from me too.”

“Bullshit, you’re voting based on emotions.” Sanzu cried out, swinging his feet off the table and slamming his fists onto it with a loud thud.

“What if I am?!” Mochi screamed, holding his fists up, dropping the flyer onto the floor for Kakucho to pick up.

“Oh god, here we go again…” The younger Haitani laughed, laying onto the surface in front of him as he watched the fight unfold.

“Zero days without incident at a Bonten Board Meeting….” Takeomi sighed, shaking his head in dismay.

“Did we ever have a positive count…” Kokonoi asked in confusion.

“Nope.” Ran snorted as he shook his head.

“I think it’d be interesting.” The normally quiet Kakucho spoke up, placing the flyer onto the table near the sleeping blond.

“See? I knew Kakucho was my favorite for a reason.” Sanzu pointed towards Kakucho, who blinked and pointed towards himself to ask ‘who, me?’.

“Didn’t you say Rindou was your favorite last week?” Ran questioned, an index finger on his cheek in sarcastic thought, “Oh right, it was for ‘agreeing with you about how strawberry shortcake is better than strawberry cheesecake’ …” Pointing at Sanzu.

Rindou jabbed his brother in the stomach with an elbow, causing the taller of the two to emit a dull ‘ ow,’ “Don’t bring me into this.”

“That was an important conversation. Mochi was trying to say cheesecake was better than real cake,” Sanzu clarified, “I’m not going to rehash old beef, though.” He held up two hands as if to say he didn’t care. However, it only seemed to anger Mochi more as he drew back a fist. Kakucho began to get ready to hold the brawny man back for the umpteenth time.

However, a small yawn from the front of the table, causing every person to freeze. Mochi and Kakucho returned to their seats quickly as the blond who had once been asleep opened his dark, inky eyes.

“...All of you are unnaturally quiet,” He finally spoke, looking around at each of the men seated at the table. He then glanced down at the sheet of paper that was settled in front of him, “What’s this?”

Sanzu gulped. This was officially a make-or-break moment for his plan, “Ah, Mikey...it’s for an arcade that’s running a deal….” He trailed off nervously.

The blond’s obsidian eyes glanced over the information listed on the paper before pausing at the section relating to food and looking back up at the group of men, “We’re going.”

Sanzu smirked and looked directly at Takeomi, who looked as though he wanted to crawl into a ditch and die, “Sanzu - 1 Takeomi - 0.” He jousted.

“If we were keeping track history-wise, you’d be so far in the red you’d be begging for someone to come save you,” Takeomi shot back, shrugging his shoulders and standing from his seat. He walked towards the door of the conference room, turning his head to Sanzu, “but you do that enough already, huh?” Finishing with a dry laugh as he exited the conference room.

“What the fuck? I’m not Koko.”

“I’m right here…?” Kokonoi shook his head in disbelief, standing from his seat at the table with a huff and kicking the chair back into place, “If I have to eat instant noodles for two months again, I will never forgive any of you assholes….” Pointing a finger around the room, stopping before Mikey, turning on his designer heels, and walking out of the room. You could hear the faint echo of his heels trailing down the concrete hallway.

“And then there were….” Sanzu counted himself and the heads in the room, holding up one hand to count only to realize he didn’t have enough fingers, “Anyways, when are we going?”

“The flyer said the deal is only good until Sunday; therefore, we need to go before then.” Kakucho informed the group, “Since it’s Wednesday, and we each have jobs to do until early Saturday morning...I’d suggest Saturday afternoon.”

“Overall, that sounds like it would work with our current plans, Kakucho.” Mikey agreed, his obsidian gaze staring holes into the heterochromatic man’s soul.

Kakucho nodded his head, “I’ll be taking my leave now. I have some things I need to tie up.” Then, standing up from his chair, pushing the chair in, and silently walking out the door to the conference room.

“We’ll get going as well, then.” Ran suddenly spoke as he stood up lazily, a scuffling noise coming from the chair.

“You act as though we’re going to the same place….” The younger Haitani breathed, shaking his head and rolling his lavender eyes at his brother’s statement.

“I thought you said we’re going out for lunch?” Ran pouted, hands on his hips.

“I said I was going to get lunch, and you invited yourself again.”

“I don’t see what the problem is with that?”

“Everything, everything is the problem with that.” Rindou turned to his brother as he finally stood from his place at the table with a huff.

“Can I come wi-” Mochi started to ask, only to be interrupted.

“NO!” Both Ran and Rindou yelled simultaneously to Mochi.

“Tough crowd…” Sanzu snorted to Mochi.

“Listen-” Mochi started, cracking his knuckles, only to be shot a look by Mikey.

“I’d be careful Sanzu, Kakucho already left, and that makes the chances of your face getting smashed in about 8-2.” Ran pointed with some underlying amusement, almost hoping that there would be another fight.

“Wow! Is everyone Koko today?!” He asked incredulously, putting his head in his palm and looking at the older Haitani, “If I didn’t know better...you did our taxes, Ran!”

“...But, I do help with those?” He questioned in a confused tone, blinking.

“Leave him. He’s hopeless.” Rindou sighed, “Mochi, come with us to lunch before you get put on punishment duty by Mikey.”

“I wasn’t gonna do shit.” Mochi huffed, glaring at the pink-haired man, “What are you lookin’ at?”

“Nothing, nothing...it’s just-” Sanzu paused, leaning forward in his seat to get a closer look at Mochi.

“It’s just what?” Mochi spat.

“Your beard...you shaved it crooked this morning, and it’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever seen.”

Yes, it was at this moment that Mikey indeed questioned if he formed the deadliest gang in all of Tokyo...or if he formed the most immature band of toddlers in all the land of Japan.

---x---

“So, who's driving?” Sanzu asked lazily on that faithful Saturday afternoon.

“The last time Rindou drove, he floored it past an old lady because she was driving the speed limit and nearly crashed us into a gasoline tanker, so...I vote not Rind-OW what was that for?!” Kokonoi yelped, getting elbowed in the side by Rindou.

“She was going eight under the speed limit, number one, and number two. I drive fine compared to somebody!” The long-haired man glaring over to Mochi.

“Eat shit.” Mochi replied, flipping Rindou the bird, “Let Kakucho drive; he’s safe.”

Sanzu groaned loudly, “But Kakucho drives like a grandma.”

“And how is that a bad thing?” Kakucho sighed, shaking his head.

“We’re gonna get there at sundown if you drive.” Sanzu pointed out.

“Oh, true.” Ran chimed in with a thoughtful nod.

“I don’t drive that slow.”

“Yes, you do,” Sanzu breathed, “Next.” Kakucho held out his hand, only to put it down in defeat.

“Alright, since Sanzu is an absolute fuckwit about this, I’ll drive. One catch, though,” Takeomi spoke up as he threw his cigarette onto the pavement, crushing it under his shoe.

“Ooooh, Takeomi enters the chat.” Sanzu mooned.

“Shut up,” He shook his head, “I get full control of the radio.”

Everyone went silent, staring at one another in horror.

“Sanzu, let someone else drive,” Kokonoi spoke up finally.

“Yeah, please, let someone else drive.” Rindou shook.

“I don’t want to deal with this for 45 minutes.” Mochi looked over at Takeomi, lighting another cigarette, who had a sinister look in his eyes.

Mikey finally strolled down into the parking garage, noticing no one was in the bus, “Who’s driving.”

“Takeomi is,” Sanzu replied, a collective sigh from the group as Takeomi chuckled to himself.

As everyone began boarding the bus, Mikey clung behind with Kakucho, only to ask a singular question, “Does this mean he has control of the radio again?”

“We’re sadly going to be listening to Russian death metal for 45 minutes….”

Mikey stared ahead before reaching into his pocket and fishing out two pairs of earplugs and handing Kakucho a couple, “Tell no one.”

The dark-haired man blinked as the other walked onto the bus, Sanzu slamming on the horn while screaming at Kakucho to “get his ass on the bus,” much to Takeomi’s annoyance as he tried to shove the pink-haired idiot away. Inwardly, he wondered about the kindness as he embarked on the self-proclaimed Bonten prison bus, holding the earplugs in his fist.

The route navigation guidance will start…

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up.” Mochi chided the navigation system.

“Don’t insult her. You’d get lost getting out of a paper bag.” Rindou snorted.

Takeomi turned his head around and glared, “I hear any more arguing, and all of you will wake up in a walk-in freezer.” He said with a sweet smile, putting the bus into gear and starting to drive out of their base.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sanzu retorted after a moment, snickering to himself as Takeomi visibly winced in anger.

“Yeah, that’s the point, dumbass,” Kokonoi replied, slapping the back of Sanzu’s head with an open palm.

“Takeomiiii Koko hit meeee-”

Takeomi gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his knuckles on that hand turning white as his other hand skillfully reached for the pack of cigarettes and a lighter that laid on the center console. He plucked a stick out with his lips, throwing the pack back down and flicking the lighter to light the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in for a long while as if to contemplate his current life choices, such as why in the world he ever agreed to play babysitter to a group of overgrown idiots and be their chauffeur for the day. Finally, his eyes looked into the rear-view mirror, meeting Sanzu’s mischievous cerulean ones, “Good, you deserved it.”

“Fuck off, Takeomi.” Sanzu puffed, Takeomi only turning up the music louder in a petty act of revenge.

“Look what you made him do!” The blond man shrieked in horror, everyone else on the bus, minus Kakucho and Mikey, glaring at the pink-haired offender.

“I didn’t do anything! He turned it up himself!” Sanzu defended.

“I’m rating Takeomi 1 star on Uber,” The older of the Haitani brothers joked, “Worst music choices, worst attitude, smokes in the car-”

“You can walk if you want,” Takeomi called out, “But remember, I had to carry you home after that mission because you twisted your ankle because you decided to wear those new Gucci shoes...I think you’d be too far up shit creek to stand on your own.”

Ran blushed furiously, “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Rindou snorting and holding his sides, “Bro, that’s why you were limping that week? You said you slipped on the ice...It was your shoes?!” He wheezed.

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely hopeless, Ran….” Kokonoi facepalmed, chuckling.

“I am not. I’m reporting you to HR!” The short-haired man pouted, crossing his arms.

Sanzu snorted, “Did you mean Kakucho?” Looking over to the dark-haired man who was staring out the window, “Oh shit, he’s brooding.”

Mochi sighed, “Someone get the tissues ready.”

“Earth to Kakucho, come in to Kakucho...Return to planet earth!!” Sanzu yelled, causing Takeomi to glare at him in the rear-view mirror.

“Sanzu, that walk-in freezer has your name on it...I know a place relatively close by.” Takeomi threatened.

Turn left at the next intersection, then turn right.

“Bullshit, that’s the long way.” Takeomi hissed, throwing his cigarette out the window angrily, “Who designed this.”

“Please do not take us on another scenic route again…” Sanzu whined painfully, “It’s on the GPS for a reason. We do not need to relive the Black Dragons glory days.”

Takeomi rolled his eyes, “For your information, my glory days have nothing to do with getting us there faster.”

“Mhm...keep telling yourself that.” Sanzu replied snarkily, “Are we there yet?”

“Mikey, do you still have the duct tape in the bus?” Kokonoi perked up suddenly, clapping his hands together, “I suddenly thought of a great project for us!”

“I don’t like the sound of this project.” Sanzu objected.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll just love it.” The light-haired man reassured Sanzu, brushing his hand against his arm gently, the other retreating with disgust. Kokonoi snorted with laughter, “What, scared?”

“No, I don’t want to catch your reverse sister complex.”

Kokonoi stared at the other with his mouth wide open, Sanzu rolling his eyes in return, “I was at the Kanto Incident, don’t act like people don’t have ears when you and what’s his face were out there screaming about it….”

“Yeah, you were screaming about it, Koko.” Mochi agreed, Sanzu blinking that the man had agreed with him.

“Oh yeah, I remember that!” Ran exclaimed.

“Survey says Tenjiku remembers it Koko.” Sanzu shrugged.

“Go to hell, and stay there.” Kokonoi huffed, blowing his bangs off his face.

Sanzu crossed his arms, smirking smugly, “You’re just mad because I won.”

“Oh god, he’s crying.” Mochi whispered, nodding his head toward Kakucho, “Sanzu, you just fucking had to bring up Tenjiku, didn’t you?”

“Nice going Sanzu, that’s the 3rd time this month you did it, too.” Rindou pointed out, “I don’t think we have tissues in the fucking bus anymore.”

“Why the fuck not?!” Mochi hissed, “Oh wait….” His eyes trailing over to the elder Haitani, who was looking to the side inconspicuously.

Rindou’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his brother, “Yeah, hm, perhaps because someone decided to hop in with a fresh bullet wound….”

“Listen, it was a bad night...week...month….” He attempted in defense, each increment of time making Rindou raise his brow higher and higher, “ Year?” Finally, causing the younger brother to nod in agreement.

“Wow, Ran...it’s almost as though you’re more useless than Sanzu,” Takeomi muttered sarcastically, offended gasps resonating from both Sanzu and Ran.

“At least I know how to cook without setting the fire alarms off,” Ran spoke incredulously.

“You forgot the sprinklers too.” Rindou chimed in.

“Hey,” Sanzu spoke, turning his head to them.

“Please, let us all not forget about the time he came to a meeting to discuss the fine intricacies of how orange juice makes you taste weird after you brush your teeth,” Mochi added, shaking his head in disproval.

“I’m right here!” Sanzu yelled in a huff.

You have arrived at your destination.

“Thank fucking god,” Takeomi sighed, putting the bus in park, “Someone wake Mikey up.”

---x---

Surprisingly, the arcade was located in a relatively remote part of town compared to where Bonten typically walked their regular routes. However, this did not stop several people from staring as the rag-tag crew disembarked the converted prison bus.

“Hey, hey...who are those people…”

“They look kinda scary.….”

“Alright, so game plan time.” Sanzu began as they walked towards the doors of the arcade.

“I’ll go in, so you get the deal. However, I’ll be standing outside to smoke otherwise.” Takeomi concluded.

“What?!” Sanzu shrieked in disbelief, “No, you have to participate.”

“No, I don’t.” The scar-faced man replied coldly.

“Let it go Sanzu, Takeomi can keep watch.” Kakuchou offered, “And he needs a break too. He just drove for almost an hour.”

Takeomi nodded his head in agreement, “Couldn’t have said it better.”

Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance, looking over to the blond for help, “Mikey….” He pleaded in a petulant manner.

“Let him rest.” Mikey stated, “He’s been pulling overnights, too.”

Takeomi smirked towards Sanzu, who only seemed to get more aggravated as he aggressively pulled open the doors to the arcade with a loud, “Fine!”

The arcade was anything you would expect, loud, smelled a bit musty, and was vibrant beyond compare. However, there was a slight scent of cheese for some strange reason. Heading towards the counter, the eight members of Bonten cashed in for several game cards that were quickly handed to none of than Hajime Kokonoi himself.

“Wait, why me?” He asked incredulously.

“Weren’t you the one who said, oh, I don’t wanna eat instant noodles for a month ?” Sanzu mocked, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but we’re all adults here and can manage fine….” The platinum blond trailed off, looking around in a confused manner.

“Yeah, Koko, don’t be a hypocrite.”The older Haitani agreed, hands on his hips.

“Are you seriously agreeing with him?!” Koko cried in astonishment.

“Well, I think that settles it,” Sanzu said with a smirk, “You can go play like, one game or something like that.”

“Sanzu, is the word ‘nice’ in your dictionary, or did that get removed when you started your drug usage?” Kakucho asked, blinking.

Sanzu turned and looked at the other man, “I could say something right now, but it would amount to the fourth time this month.”

“Alright, let’s just get on with this shit.” Mochi finally said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Yeah...I’m going….” Sanzu waved his hand as he walked in the other direction, likely off to find something that piqued his interest.

Ran turned to Rindou, “I wonder if they have DDR here….” He wondered aloud, his lavender eyes glancing around the area only to light up in amusement, “I see it!”

“Oh, it’s on.” Rindou smirked, “Ready for a revenge match, bro?”

“Like I’d ever miss it for the world.” Ran laughed as they both made a bee-line for the machine.

“What are you gonna, do Kakucho?” Mochi asked, turning to the jet-black-haired man.

“I’m not sure; I haven’t been to an arcade since….” He trailed off and looked to the floor.

“Get out of your head for once.” Mochi punched the other lightly in the shoulder with a grin, “Can’t stay in there forever, huh?”

Kakucho looked towards the other man and nodded, “You’re right.”

The two began walking around, attempting to find something to do in the vast array of games and activities, stopping now and then for Mochi to try something and only failing at it miserably, only to have Kakucho show Mochi how to do it properly. Eventually, both came upon a motorcycle racing game, their eyes lighting up as they used to long ago.

“Mochi?” Kakucho asked quietly, though loud enough to hear over the several kids screaming in the background.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“We’re playing this.” He declared.

“I mean, I figured when you stopped right there and were staring at it like it was some sexy chick at the strip club.” Mochi snorted, Kakucho staring at him as though he had two heads.

“Your disrespect for women is unimaginable.” He huffed as he hopped onto the motorcycle.

Mochi let out a hearty chuckle as he climbed onto the adjacent motorcycle, “Preaching respect women while in a gang that deals with prostitution,” He slid the card into the reader twice, “That’s some funny shit.”

“Oh screw, you.” Kakucho pouted as he swerved the motorcycles to select the rider, pausing over a white-haired rider and selecting them.

Mochi stared a moment, blinking at the fact Kakucho had chosen a character that looked like Izana. He shook his head and chose a random character, not exactly caring.

3...2...1...START!

“Oh fuck me, this ain’t nothin’ like the real shit.” Mochi cursed as he attempted to steer, crashing out several times with a string of curses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; this is pretty easy?” Kakucho replied, already in 1st place.

“How the fuck!” Mochi swore in anger, attempting to climb back into a semi-reputable position, only to realize he was in 9th place, closing in on 10th.

Kakucho tilted his body through a turn and smiled; he was having fun with this. He truly missed being able to go to the arcade with friends, with Izana. He wondered if they could do this more often...if Bonten could. He was drawn from his thoughts as Mochi swore loudly again, making him laugh, “Mochi, do you need help?”

“How the fuck are you gonna help me from there?!” The bulky man swore, now in 12th place—dead last.

“I...don’t know,” Kakucho admitted, crossing the finish line and setting a course record for the game.

“This is some ungodly level bullshit right here,” Mochi complained, trying to back himself out of an in-game ditch.

Kakucho continued watching for several minutes until Mochi finally crossed the finish line, “Well done.” He congratulated.

“Oh fuck off, enter your damn name.” The bearded man hissed in envy.

Kakucho entered his initials into the game, listed under 2nd place. He wondered who had set the 1st place record for the machine, though it was likely impossible to figure out.

His head turned when he heard a cry of frustration nearby, one that he knew...Koko?

---x---

When the group had split up earlier, Haruchiyo Sanzu had given him one rule. That was he was only allowed to play one game. Several ideas ran through his head, virtual poker, which allowed him to recoup the money they were blowing here, the weird slot machine game that looked rather promising, and then, of course, the game where you had a coin and slid it down a slot to push more coins off a ledge… All of those were lovely ideas, Kokonoi thought, that was until he landed upon a red stool in front of a screen that read Deal or No Deal. He’d heard of this reality television series before, and he knew the premise.

The blond pursed his lips as he sat down, assessing the machine. There were 16 buttons on the front labeled 1 through 16 in the shape of what looked to be briefcases. Kokonoi assumed they were to represent the motifs from the show. He sighed, figuring that, if anything, this was going to be the game for him. He slid the game card through the reader, slumping onto the stool.

Get ready to play: Deal or No Deal.

“Fuck me…” Kokonoi sighed in annoyance, watching as the said sixteen cases appeared on the screen with various ticket amounts ranging from one to five hundred. Large letters appearing stating to ‘follow the cases,’ which essentially signified you were supposed to pick the largest amount.

“Oh lovely, some RNG?” He muttered sarcastically, “It’s not like we don’t get enough of that in those gacha games kids play these days….” The cases shuffled around the screen, stopping and showing designated numbers that corresponded to the buttoned below. He thought a moment before pressing the nine button.

Choose your case...this will be your personal case.

“Yeah, I already did that-” Kokonoi hissed in annoyance, spamming one of the buttons to no avail.

You chose case number nine.

“Oh.”

Now pick five cases.

“I feel like I’m playing some fucked up lottery.” He sighed, noticing the clock and swearing under his breath as he scrambled to choose a number, “Let’s continue with the ongoing theme of my name.” He pressed the 1 button.

One.

One of the virtual women on the screen opened the case to reveal a low ticket amount, Kokonoi nodding his head in approval. He pressed the 13 button, the game echoing his choice once again to show yet another low ticket amount.

“And I thought poker was a rush.” He mused to himself, pressing the 8 button. This time, a larger amount was revealed.

“And all good things come to an end.” The light-haired man sighed as he then pressed the 15, another low.

“Back in black,” He joked, leaning back as he assessed the board for the final number, “Alright, let’s try 6.” It was a high number.

There was a ring from a telephone, causing Kokonoi to look around in confusion, only to realize it was the game, “This is such a weird game….”

That’s the bank.

“Oh good, am I getting paid?”

Here is the offer...Deal or No Deal...

A ticket amount appeared on the screen, Kokonoi’s inky eyes narrowing, “That’s it?!” He cried in frustration, hitting the NO DEAL button quickly, “I think that one gang we took out last week had a better offer for us than that.” He huffed.

Now open four cases.

“Again?” He asked incredulously, shaking his head, “Fine.” He pressed the 2 button, revealing a large amount, “Goddammit.” He thought a moment as the clock ticked down.

Hurry up.

“Oh, this game did not just tell me to hurry up.” The fair-haired man stated saltily, pressing the 16 button, low. He smirked, “See, can’t rush perfection.” He pushed the 10 button, low again.

“One more until the bank comes crawling back to me….” Kokonoi thought aloud to himself, hovering over the 14 button and then pressing it gently. Another low amount. The phone began ringing again in the game, music to Kokonoi’s ears, in all honesty.

There’s the bank again.

“Who else would it be?” Kokonoi mocked as he waited for the offer to appear on the screen.

Here’s the offer...Deal or No Deal…

Kokonoi thought a moment as the in-game clock ticked down. While this was a remarkably better offer than the last, he knew that there was still a significant chance he would be able to win big, and after all, it was an arcade. And not to mention, the bragging rights over Sanzu would give him mental clarity for the next month. With that thought, he pressed the NO DEAL button.

Now pick three cases.

Kokonoi sucked in a breath, his heart pumping, and he rubbed his hands together, “This is starting to feel like poker.” He pressed the 3 key. High. Swearing under his breath as he then pushed the 12 key high again. He stared up at the ceiling, his grand plan starting to fall apart as he looked down and pressed the 7 key, hoping for some luck. Low. Kokonoi sighed to himself as the phone rang, knowing the offer would look like garbage compared to the last, and laughing hysterically when it was less than half of what it originally was, quickly pressing the NO DEAL button as if he had never seen it.

Now open two cases.

“I don’t know if it’s good or bad, that the highest amount is still there, or that the offer they just made was so bad I wanted to leave here and never return..” Kokonoi chuckled to himself, questioning his life choices up until this point, pressing the 5 key. High. He then pressed the 4 key, also high.

“Wait...doesn’t that mean…” He stared and blinked, “I have either the 1 ticket or 500…”

The phone ringing again to make another offer, Kokonoi spamming the NO DEAL button as he came to the realization.

Now, let’s open your case.

As the in-game woman opened the case, Kokonoi leaned forward, only for the case to reveal...One ticket. Hajime Kokonoi had won, one ticket. He screamed, slamming his hands onto the machine before holding his head in his hands, staring at the floor in anguish. By now, Kakucho and Mochi had made their way over to him.

“Koko, what happened?” Kakucho asked, leaning down to attempt to make eye contact.

“I took a calculated risk...and for what.” The blond sobbed, his hand nearly tearing his hair out in frustration.

“Uh...Koko, it’s just a game.” Mochi laughed, amused by the entire situation.

“Do you think we can put a hit on Howie?” Kokonoi asked after a moment, looking up at the two of them.

“Who the fuck is Howie?” Mochi asked.

“Isn’t that the Deal or No Deal guy?” Kakucho asked, and then noticing where they were standing, “The answer is no, we are not killing someone for your petty revenge.”

Kokonoi huffed and crossed his arms, “Fine.” He looked around, “Where’s Ran and Rindou?”

“Oh, they’re with their fan club.” Mochi snorted, “Go see for yourself.”

---x---

“They really do have it, bro!” Rindou said with a huge grin, pointing towards the bright and colorful Dance Dance Revolution machine in front of them.

“Why wouldn’t they? They had it when we were growing up in Roppongi?”

“Okay, but who the fuck knows about a weird arcade Sanzu chose.”

“You speak only the truth…” Ran laughed, stepping onto the pad and sliding the card through the reader, “Oh nice, we get three songs?”

“Remember before we’d have to keep a cup of quarters on the floor, and we’d always spill it?” Rindou asked, tying his hair into a bun and joining his brother on the game’s vibrant pad.

“Yeah, and you’d always blame me for it even though you were always the one who did it!” Ran pouted, flipping through the songs and pausing on one, the music filtering through speakers as he turned to Rindou with a sinister smirk, “What was that about a revenge match?”

Rindou grinned, crossing his arms triumphantly, “I’ll gladly bust your ass at Kimagure Mercy any day.”

“Do you still remember how we do it?” Ran questioned as he selected it, sliding off his suit jacket and slinging it over the back of the railing.

“How couldn’t I.” The bun-sporting man rolled his lavender eyes, “Aren’t you the older one, gRANdpa?”

Ran’s eyebrow twitched, “I’m not above sibling punishment Rindou.”

“Oh, I’m shaking.”

The was applause from the game, signifying the song was about to start. The two brothers faced forwards, the intro starting and patterns beginning to fall down the screen. The two started to move in unison, swaying back and forth to the beat. It wasn’t until the first verse hit that what Ran mentioned began.

The Haitani brothers had begun to dance while playing Dance Dance Revolution.

Rindou glanced over to his brother, “Oh my god can you stop being such a show-off for once?” He huffed through a laugh, clapping hands with his brother to the beat.

“Please, it’s on my wiki article!” Ran cried out, “Just like you’re a big brute.” He bopped his head.

“I am not!” The younger retorted, squinting at the screen.

“Don’t mess up, Rindou!” Ran teased and purposefully pushed the other a bit in one of their claps.

“Fuck off!”

A crowd began to grow, mainly teenage girls enamored by these two men playing the game in such a spectacular way. All of them were excitedly watching as the two played, starting to ask each other questions such as “Does anyone know their names?” “Who are they?” “Do they have an Instagram?”... Eventually, when Rindou’s name was mentioned, people began to cheer for him. Naturally, this caused a significant issue for Ran Haitani.

“Hi ladies, I’m Ran~” He sang, causing them to squeal, a smirk plastered on his face, and an annoyed groan from Rindou echoing in response.

“In another life, I wonder if you were destined to be a host.” He sighed, accidentally missing the tile on the floor, “Shit!” he swore loudly.

“You see what you get, Rindou; respect your elders.” Ran snorted, the other man glaring at him from the corner of his eyes.

“When this song is over, you better run…” He whispered, “It’s over in 23...22...21…”

“I’m so old, my hearing…” He joked, Rindou nearly grabbing his hand during one of the claps and breaking it.

The song wrapped up, Ran turning around and waving to the group of girls and Rindou slouching forwards, primarily due to rage, though also due to an insatiable desire to beat his brother to a pulp in Dance Dance Revolution.

“Again.”

“Oh, you want more?” Ran asked with a lazy smirk as he waved to the “fans”.

“We have 2 more songs.” Rindou huffed, rolling his eyes, “It’s a waste of money.”

“True,” Ran nodded his head, “Let’s pick an easier song then!” He reached for the buttons only to have his hand slapped away by the younger, a dull ‘ow’ leaving his lips.

“No, we’re playing this song until I beat you. It’s that simple.” Rindou explained, hands on his hips.

“Fine, fine.” The older relented, “Don’t blame me if you can’t beat me.”

By the time Kakucho, Mochi, and Kokonoi made it over to the Haitani brothers. The crowd was sizeable. The arcade staff attempted to get the crowd to disperse, as it was becoming a fire hazard to the facility.

“Hey Ran, Rindou, what happened here?” Mochi asked as he finally made it to the front.

The two stepped off the machine and walked over to the group, Rindou grinning as the elder brother shook his head, “I reminded him who the rightful heir to the DDR throne is.”

“Please, you only beat me once.” Ran sighed in exasperation and exhaustion.

“And that still means I beat you.” The long-haired man spoke smugly.

“Wait, so that crowd...was all for you two playing a rhythm game?” Kokonoi questioned, “That’s insane.”

“I hope they don’t follow us home, or Mikey is going to have our heads,” Kakucho pondering the probability, “Then again, they might see Takeomi and get a bit scared.”

“Is he still out smoking?” Kokonoi pondered, tilting his head to see if he could see him, “I can’t see him.”

“I thought I saw him come in with Sanzu earlier?” Ran spoke up, the entire group staring at him.

“That can’t be right. Takeomi would never go with Sanzu…” The blond-haired man stated, slightly bewildered by the information.

“Oh, there he is.” The younger Haitani pointed, Takeomi wearing a shit-eating grin as he walked back outside, the entire group then spotting a pissed-off Sanzu.

---x---

Sanzu was officially bored. He thought that coming to the arcade would be an excellent way to spend some time away from things, though it only seemed to create more issues. What was worse was everyone else seemed to be doing their own thing, so there was no one left to mess with or bother. After an hour of wandering around and playing several games that held his attention for a few minutes or less, he set his sights on a bigger and better prize: Akashi Takeomi.

Yes, in actuality Akashi Takeomi was dangerous. He likely could kidnap Sanzu as he slept, lock him in a freezer, and then feed him to the fish...Though where was the fun in not messing with someone like that? He smirked to himself as he walked outside to see the scar-faced man unsurprisingly smoking.

“Ew, how many have you smoked today?” Sanzu spoke, holding his nose in mock disgust.

Takeomi didn’t even look at him, “Half a pack, give or take.”

“Smoking’s bad for you, y’know.”

“Drugs are too, but you don’t see me trying to give you a 12-step lecture.” Takeomi retorted dryly, Sanzu cackling in response.

“I gotta hand it to ya. That one was funny.” The pink-haired man pointing to the other.

“What exactly do you want?”

Sanzu clasped his hands together, “Dearest Takeomi, you’ve been out here for over an hour...I think it’s about time you came inside and actually enjoyed what we came here for.”

“No.” He replied with a laugh, “Nice try though, really love the theatrics...maybe we can get you a job with the prostitutes.”

Sanzu groaned, “Can you stop being a stick in the mud for once and be fun?”

Takeomi felt something inside him snap. Honestly, he just wanted to sit outside and smoke. He wanted not to have to deal with a specific pink-haired buffoon who continued to ruin his Saturdays over and over each week. Instead, however, he turned to the other man with a sickly sweet smile, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his shoe, “Sure, Sanzu, I’ll play one game...let’s go.”

“Really!” Sanzu’s face lit up with excitement, “Okay, let’s go!”

As they entered the arcade, Sanzu and Takeomi walked around a moment, regret beginning to wash over the older as his head began to pound from the noise and light.

“So, what do you want to play.” The pink-haired man asked, tipping his head to meet the other’s gaze.

“I don’t know, and I haven’t been to an arcade in fuck all knows.” Takeomi hissed, rubbing his temples, “Can you make it quick?”

“Jeez, I didn’t know they made you when the dinosaurs still walked the planet.” Sanzu grumbled, “Let’s go for a shooter then.” The two of them walking towards a Western-style shooting game that had plastic guns.

“Why am I not surprised.” The dark-haired man breathed, shaking his head.

“What? Sorry, I’m good at what I’m good at?” Sanzu mocked, shrugging his shoulders, “Anyways, it’s pretty self-explanatory...aim, pull the trigger, boom.”

Takeomi smirked. What Sanzu didn’t know was, he knew how to play this game. He knew far too well how to play this game because, during his days as a Brahma captain, Senju and himself would often sit in arcades and play. Sanzu Haruchiyo had sentenced himself to an early grave with this one, no matter how good a shot he was.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The pink-haired man nodding his head towards the machine.

“I’m broke; you pay for it.”

“How the fuck are you broke if you- Nevermind.” Sanzu started, shaking his head and sliding his game card through the reader, “Let’s settle this.”

The older stepped up to the gallery, picking up the model gun and testing the weight in his hands before settling on a position.

Ready...Start!

Enemies started popping onto the screen, Sanzu quickly shooting the targets that were his color. He thought to himself it would be easy to best the older man until he realized he was keeping pace, and his score was already twice his based on the accuracy bonus.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Sanzu started, beginning to get ruffled by the sudden turn of events.

“What is it Sanzu, maybe you should aim a bit better, or is that too difficult?” Takeomi replied cooly as he blasted the head off of a zombie, “Oh, that was a good one.”

“Are you shitting me?” He cried out in response, “You actually know how to play this?” Sanzu was aiming for one of the enemy bonuses. However, he missed miserably. He swore under his breath, much to Takeomi’s delight.

“It’s been a good oh, what did you call it...era.” He mused as they made it to the boss level, “But for someone as young as you, this must be easy, right?” His voice dripping with poison.

“There’s still the boss level. I can-” He looked at the scores, feeling the color drain out of his face.

“What was that, Sanzu? My old deaf ears can’t hear you over the sound of your absolute thrashing.” He chuckled, “But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll recover in time to hear you cry.”

“Do we just need to get you a nicotine drip? I don’t think the patch is gonna cut it with you.” Sanzu groaned, “Or, do you want one of my pills? Those might take your edge off too.”

“Take the joke, Sanzu,” He sighed, the game finishing out and Takeomi writing his initials in the records list, “Have a good time trying to beat that, though.” The older smirking, patting the other on the back as he walked towards the entrance, shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he pulled out another cigarette from his ever-dwindling pack.

Sanzu stared at the score in disbelief. He couldn’t beat that score today. He would have to come back another day to beat it, but he would beat it, no matter what. He stomped his foot in frustration, only to notice the entire Bonten group was looking, sans Mikey. He blinked and did what any person with an IQ between 85 and 115 would do...make a break for the food court before he could be harassed.

---x---

Was this the main reason Mikey agreed to this excursion? He didn’t want to admit to it. However, when the flyer said they had six different types of taiyaki in the featured food court, Mikey was sold instantly on the idea, as embarrassing as it was. He quietly walked towards the counter, scanning the menu with his pitch-black eyes only to discover there were, in fact, now eight taiyaki options. He smiled softly to himself as the person operating the counter looked on in confusion at the strange man in front of them, “Can I help you?” The food court employee asked him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

“Taiyaki, all of them,” Mikey said, sliding a large bill onto the counter.

“Do you mean all of the kinds or...all of them, all of them.” The employee clarified, thinking to themselves.

His eyes lit up, “I can have all of them?” He asked.

“As long as you pay for them, I don’t see why not...It might take a bit, though, because we warm them in an oven, so they get kinda crispy.” The employee explained, noticing the glimmer in his eyes.

“All of them, then.” Mikey clarified, adding another bill on the counter.

“Do I know you from somewhere, though?” They asked as they handed him his change, causing Mikey to pause for a brief moment.

“I haven’t ever met you before.” He replied, walking to one of the tables and sitting in the uncomfortably hard seating. It was nearly impossible to take a nap here due to how loud and bright it was, as well as how unbearable some of the smells were...Who honestly authorized it to smell like nacho cheese? Though, he also realized he was in a food court. Slouching down into the chair, he wondered what the rest of his gang had decided to put their minds to that day. He assumed Sanzu had found something involving guns and roped Takeomi into it as well, smirking because he knew that Takeomi had played before. Kokonoi had likely found something involving money, and The Haitani brothers honestly were talking up a storm about Dance Dance Revolution before they even arrived. Mochi and Kakucho were the two members of the group he wasn’t quite too sure about. He made a mental note to ask Kakucho when they boarded the bus again later that day.

“Alright, here are the first few, careful though, because they’re extremely hot.” The employee warned, setting a tray in front of the light-haired man, “I’ll keep them coming.”

Mikey reached forward and grabbed one of them, mentally noting that his hand was burning, though not exactly caring as the gratification of the taiyaki was going to be worth it in half a second. He bit in and leaned back in bliss. He was elated as he continued to eat through the pile of confections, completely losing track of time. He inwardly began to feel that the Russian death metal car ride from hell was worth it, and so was having to deal with Sanzu complaining about everything. And so was-

“Mikey, are you okay?”

He wanted to snap his neck.

Sanzu stared at the fair-haired man, who looked as though he had passed out in his chair, only for him to lean back up with a menacing stare slowly, “I’m fine.” He said coldly, taking another angry bite of the taiyaki.

“O...Oh…” The pink-haired man replied, nodding his head nervously as he backed away, “That’s a lot of taiyaki there.” He pointed towards the ever-growing pile of confections.

“I know. They’re mine.” Mikey responded as he finished the first, licking his lips and picking up another, “Where is everyone else?” He questioned as he bit into the sweet and bitter flavor of matcha.

“I saw them a couple of minutes ago; they’ll probably be here in a minute...Takeomi is smoking.” He informed the other, omitting the absolute ass-kicking he had received.

As if on cue, the group walked into the food court; however, the mood quickly changed as Kokonoi held up his phone, “We need to go, one of Ran’s fangirls posted them on their Instagram; and we need to get out of here, now .” His eyes narrowing.

“Why are we blaming my fangirl for this? They’re just as much of Rindou’s as mi-OW” Ran once again getting elbowed in the side by his brother.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you didn’t name drop both me and yourself, so now you’re really more useless than Sanzu!” Rindou scolded him, “And you’re supposed to be older than me!”

“I’m RIGHT here!” Sanzu replied, raising his hands in exasperation.

“Cry me a river Sanzu, oh wait-” Mochi snorted, laughing at his own joke.

Kakucho grinned, “Mochi, that was surprisingly good coming from you.”

“I know, right. I surprise even myself sometimes.” The brawny man beamed.

“I hate all of you.” Sanzu huffed, crossing his arms.

“We hate you too; now let’s get going before we have to shoot our way out of a fucking arcade?” The long-haired blond replied in a haughty tone, motioning for the exit.

“Mikey, get a to-go box,” Kakucho suggested to the blond sitting at the table, eyeing the remaining taiyaki sadly.

“I’ll leave them.”

“Shotgun!” Sanzu yelled as they exited the arcade, Takeomi making eye contact with him and shaking his head.

“There isn’t even a passenger seat. What are the drugs hitting you that hard?” Kokonoi questioned him with a laugh.

“I’m assuming the cops are coming then?” Takeomi asked as he fished the keys to the bus out of his pocket, starting to walk with the group.

“ Oh yeah, Ran and Rindou are Instagram famous; Koko show him.” Mochi snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why is it always...fine.” He attempted to argue as he pulled up the post on his phone, revealing a video with nearly 500 likes and 130 comments.

“Wait, I didn’t see it yet!” Ran yelled as he ran over to Kokonoi, smushing his head in to see, “Wow, I look good… Rindou does, too, of course.”

“Shut the fuck up, you cretaceous period cretin.” Rindou hissed, flipping him off from afar only to have Ran run after him.

“Stop running in the parking lot!” Kakucho yelled, shaking his head, “I swear to god…”

“You have to admit, though, it was a good time.” Mochi stated with a smile, “We should do this again.”

“Alright, everyone, get on the fucking bus, or I’m leaving without you,” Takeomi yelled, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“And who died and made you king?!” Sanzu yelled only to smack his head on the roof while boarding the bus, causing Mikey to snort from a laugh uncharacteristically.

“Wait, did Mikey just laugh?” Kokonoi asked, genuinely amazed.

“I made Mikey laugh!” Sanzu cheered, patting himself on the back.

“Wow, if only we could hurt you more...then maybe we could restore all of his emotions…” Takeomi whispered to himself.

“What was that?” Sanzu questioned, leaning forward.

“No, nope, nothing.” Takeomi lied badly.

“That’s what I thought,” Sanzu replied with a smile, sitting back in his seat, Takeomi groaning and reaching for his pack of cigarettes only to realize there weren’t any left. He sighed heavily, leaning back into the cushion of the driver’s seat and staring up at the tattered ceiling. It was going to be a long drive home, huh.

---x---

In Toyko, the conflict with a group named “Bonten” intensifies...However, they seem to have a soft side too…

It was once again a Wednesday, except this week Sanzu Haruchiyo was on time, and there were no off-topic discussions. Instead, all that was discussed was saving Bonten from the PR nightmare the Haitani brothers had created for the gang. And, of course, the now planned hit on Howie Mandel. However, the damage was done, and the gang’s reputation seemed to go from “dangerous and deadly” to “upcoming idol group.” However, Mikey didn’t seem too troubled by it, though it wasn’t exactly possible to tell what he thought until it was too late.

Takeomi sighed as he once again lit a cigarette, staring off into the distance, “Here’s to another fucking Wednesday.”

81 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 4 years ago

Text

Painted Pink Room

A/N: @talkfastromance4 mentioned that a part 2 to this would be cool and I had some ideas for it, so here we are.

Word Count: 2.3k

And away, and away we go!

It took a month for McKenna to finally sleep through the night in her own room, not that Calum and Luke minded in the slightest. Nap time was fine, but there was something about sleeping in the dark alone, even with the aid of a nightlight, that sent McKenna scurrying into bed with her dads every night.

So when Calum rolled over one morning and found empty space before his hand smacked into Luke’s arm, he shot awake. “Where’s Mack?!”

Luke mumbled angrily in his sleep. “Shh, Cal, I’m sleeping…”

“And Mack is missing!”

That got Luke’s attention, blue eyes snapping opening. He sat up straight, throwing back the covers. “What do you mean she’s missing?!”

“Do you see her in here?! Did she sleep in her own bed all night?”

“She better have otherwise she might be actually missing…”

Both men jumped out of bed and raced down the hall to McKenna’s room. And found her peacefully sleeping in her bed, Duke and Petunia curled up on the floor next to her. “How is she still asleep?” Luke asked in a whisper.

Calum shrugged, checking the time on his phone before groaning. “Probably cuz it’s five in the fuckin’ morning…”

“You woke me up at five in the morning because Mack was asleep in her own bed?!”

“I panicked, okay?! She’s never spent the whole night in her room before, what was I supposed to think?!”

“Sssshhhhh!” Luke shushed, gesturing for them to leave the room. “You wanna wake her up, or go back to bed? I, for one, vote for going back to bed.”

Calum yawned, agreeing with Luke that more sleep was needed. “Hey, Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“She did it. Whole night in her own room,” he smiled in pride.

“Yeah,” Luke matched Calum’s grin for a second. “But I’m kinda gonna miss her elbow in my ribs.”

“Yeah. Me too…”

And as much as they missed the little body squeezed in next to them, they did enjoy the extra uninterrupted hours of sleep. They also enjoyed McKenna tiptoeing into the room with both dogs at her side to wake them up, asking for breakfast.

~~~

“Alright, little miss, how do we want our hair today?” Calum asked her after Luke helped her get dressed. “Up or down?” He swung her up and sat her down on the bathroom counter, spinning her around so they both faced the mirror.

“Up!”

“Ponytail, braid, or bun?”

“Tail!”

“Great choice!” Calum grinned before setting to work, taking in pride at how well he’d learn to do her hair over the past handful of weeks. “Did Daddy tell you what we’re doing today?”

“‘Ool?” she asked, cocking her head to the side and turning a little.

“Gotta sit still for me, darling.” He gently set her straight again. “But, yeah, you’re right. We’re gonna go swimming today. Do you know why?”

She thought about it for a second, her little face scrunching in the mirror.

“You know you scrunch your face just like Daddy when you’re thinking,” Calum noted.

“Like Daddy?” she asked, scrunching her face more.

“Just like him.”

“Eyes like Papa!”

“Yep, eyes just like mine,” Calum smiled at her. “Can you remember why Daddy said we’re swimming today?”

“No.”

“It’s because we’re meeting some friends today!”

“Fwends?!”

“Yeah! Uncle Ashton and Uncle Mikey are gonna come over, so you can meet them and your cousin Wyatt.”

“Wots of fwends!”

“A little bit, yeah. But they’re excited to meet you.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you! So, what do you say? Wanna go swimming with your new friends today?”

“Yes!”

“That’s my girl! C’mon, let’s go find Daddy.”

~~~

There was a small downside to having told McKenna that friends would be coming over to swim. It was the fact that she had very little concept of how time worked. So any sound of a car driving past was met with an excited gasp of “Fwends?!” and Calum and Luke having to shake their heads and go, “No, Mack. It’s not time yet. We have to have lunch and a nap first.” A cycle of conversation that repeated on an endless loop even after lunch had been eaten and the nap had been taken.

“Seriously, where the fuck are they?” Luke asked in a low, aggravated tone.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Calum replied in a similar tone, huffing and pulling out his phone. Then he sighed in relief, flashing the message at Luke. “On their way. 5 minutes ago.”

“Which means they should pulling up any-”

“Fwends?!” McKenna interrupted as a car turned into the drive.

“That better fuckin’ be them,” Luke grumbled, marching for the door and pulling it open. “Hey, ya made it!” he hollered.

Ashton laughed as he slung a bag over his shoulder. “Sorry mate. Someone took forever to go down for a nap.”

“S’alright. Still got most of the afternoon. How long can these two swim for anyhow?” Calum pointed out, stepping onto the porch next to Luke with McKenna at his side. “Look, Mack, our friends are here! You wanna say hi?”

McKenna peered around Calum’s leg over at Ashton and Michael, her eyes wide. “Big wike you…” she whispered.

Calum laughed. “Yeah, Uncle Ashton and Uncle Mikey are big like me and Daddy. But look! Wyatt’s little like you.”

“Hey, McKenna,” Michael said, crouching down in front of her. “I’m Mike, and this is Wyatt. Wyatt, do you wanna say hi to McKenna?”

“Hi,” the little boy said, before glancing up at Michael, and whispering “Swimming now, Daddy?”

“You don’t wanna say hi to your uncles first?” Michael whispered back.

“Oh…” Wyatt turned his attention to Calum and Luke. “Hi.”

“Hey, bud,” Luke chuckled. “Mack, they said hi. Do you want to say hi back?”

“Hi…” she offered up shyly.

“How ‘bout we hit the pool, yeah?” Ashton asked, trying to steamroll through the shy hellos.

“Great idea!” Luke agreed. “C’mon, Mack, let’s go get your swimsuit on.”

“Otay!”

From there, conversation flowed much more fluidly as the four men leaned against the pool walls, chatting about work ideas while McKenna and Wyatt splashed about on the steps, engaging in their own imaginary play and toddler babble. “So how are you guys adjusting and everything?” Ashton asked once they’d worn down work ideas.

“Fine I guess,” Luke said with a shrug.

“Yeah. She actually slept the whole night in her own bed last night,” Calum added.

“Shit, that’s a huge step. Have you reached the tantrum stage yet?” Michael asked.

Calum and Luke looked at each other and shook their heads. “No,” answered Calum. “She gets whiny and pouts about things sometimes. But no major meltdowns so far.”

“But don’t jinx us,” Luke added with a laugh.

Just then there was a particularly loud splash and all of them turned as Wyatt came up sputtering, before letting out a scared wail. “Whoa!” Ashton rushed, stepping over and helping Wyatt back up on the step. “Deep breath. You’re okay. What happened? Did you slip?”

“She! Pushed! Me!” he continued to cry, pointing at McKenna who scowled at him.

Calum grabbed McKenna, pulling her away from Wyatt before setting her on the ledge in front of him. “Did you push Wyatt?”

She nodded.

Calum sighed. “Why?”

“He mean.”

“He was mean to you?”

“Uh-huh.” And to demonstrate, she dipped her hand in the water and splashed Calum in the face.

“Hey!” Calum said sternly, grabbing her hand. “We don’t splash people in the face. That’s not nice.”

“He did!”

“Oh…” Calum said in understanding. “He splashed you in the face so you pushed him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, but we don’t push people, darling. That’s not nice either. If you have a problem, you come get me or Daddy, okay?”

“Otay…”

“Okay. So what do we say when we’re mean to someone and hurt them?”

“Sowwy…”

“Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to Wyatt.”

“Sowwy ‘Ayatt…”

“It’s otay,” he sniffed.

Ashton and Calum set both kids back to play before making their way back over to Michael and Luke. “So what happened?”

“I think Wyatt accidentally splashed her in the face and she got pissed, so she shoved him,” Calum recapped.

“So we’re raising a vigilante? Cool,” Luke laughed. “Good to know.”

“Shut up, it’s not funny,” Calum scolded.

“Eh,” Michael shrugged. “In all fairness there’s a 50/50 shot that Wyatt splashed her on purpose.”

“That’s true,” Ashton nodded. “Tried to break the habit about a billion times, but hey, maybe he just needed to get shoved to make the lesson stick ya know? They’re kids. No one got hurt. That’s what matt- Wyatt James, don’t splash her.”

Wyatt’s hands were poised in the water, ready to splash at McKenna again. He giggled, not thinking Ashton was serious and gave McKenna a face full of water. On instinct, she shoved him off the step again.

“Dude, what did I just tell you?” Ashton groaned as he went over to get Wyatt.

“Alright, we’re done,” Calum said, following Ashton to collect McKenna. “That’s enough swimming for the day.”

“Good call,” Ashton nodded.

“Papa, no!” the toddlers shrieked as they got taken out of the water.

“Yeah, I bet you’ll listen next time then, huh?” Ashton asked.

“Papa!” Wyatt continued to sob as Ashton wrapped him in a towel and sat with him in a chair. “I… wanna… swim!”

“Me too!” McKenna hiccuped.

“Maybe later. Right now we’re taking a break,” Calum told them both.

“Daddy!” McKenna cried.

“Oh, you’re mad at me so you want Daddy? Alright, see how far you get,” Calum chuckled, as Luke and Michael made their way over to the rest of the group.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Luke asked, taking McKenna from Calum.

“Swim, pwease?”

“Nope. We’re all taking a break.”

She let out a loud cry, burying her head into Luke, who reached over to shove Michael. “I told you not to jinx us, ya cunt.”

Michael laughed, “Wait til she has a tantrum over something completely ridiculous.”

The men continued to talk, while whispering small assurances to the toddlers that “It’s alright. You’re fine,” until the hiccuped sobs turned to soft sniffles.

“You understand why Papa had you take a break?” Michael spoke softly to Wyatt. “We don’t splash people in the face.”

“Accident…”

“The first time, maybe it was. But the second time we all watched you. Papa even told you not to, and you did it anyway. That’s why McKenna pushed you, and that’s why we all had to take a break.”

“Oh… Sowwy…”

“Not to me. To McKenna for splashing her, and to Papa for not listening.”

“Sowwy Papa.”

“Thank you, bud,” Ashton smiled at his son. “I love you.”

“Wuv you. Sowwy, ‘Kenna.”

“It otay.”

“What else do you say, sweetheart?” Luke guided. “Papa already warned you about pushing people the first time, that’s why you had to take a break.”

“Sowwy ‘Ayatt.”

“It’s otay.”

“Daddy?” McKenna asked, tracing her fingers over Luke’s painted nails.

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Dis pwetty.”

Luke waggled his fingers. “They are pretty, huh?”

“Mhm. Mine wike dat?”

“Yeah, we can get your nails painted.”

“Me too?” Wyatt asked, perking up.

“If you want, bud, sure,” Michael nodded, before directing his attention to Calum and Luke, “You guys got nail polish? We can do it now.”

“Yeah, we got a whole bunch,” Calum answered. “I’ll go get the stuff. Lu, you wanna get her changed out of her swimsuit?”

“On it.”

Fifteen minutes later found the group hunkered down in the living room, nail polish bottles scattered on the coffee table while little fingernails were swiped with pretty colors. “Tada!” Luke cheered as he capped a bottle of bright red polish. “Look, your nails are just like mine, now.”

“Papa too!”

“Oh, I dunno. Does Papa wanna match with us?” Luke asked Calum, waving the bottle back and forth.

Calum looked at his nails, and shrugged. “Eh, fuck it. Go ahead.”

“You want the red, or do you want your usual black?”

“Red’s fine.”

“Alright, Mack, you wanna help me paint Papa’s fingers?”

“Yeah!”

“Careful not to smudge hers,” Calum warned lightly as he settled back, giving Luke one of his hands.

Carefully, Luke held his own fingers over McKenna’s on the brush to guide her as she painted Calum’s nails for him.

On the other side of the coffee table, Ashton was blowing on Wyatt’s fingers to help the glittery purple nail polish dry. “You know, Daddy used to have hair kinda like this.”

Wyatt looked over at Michael and laughed. “Daddy hair purple!”

“My hair was lilac, not purple,” Michael corrected as he swiped black nail polish across his own nails.

“Not the lilac. The…” Ashton snapped his fingers as he thought. “Fuck what was it? It was like purple, blue, and black all at once.”

“Galaxy. Yeah, that one was fun.”

“Probably my favorite hair color of yours honestly,” Calum told him.

“Yeah, you ever gonna dye your hair again, Mike?” Luke asked.

“Maybe when you finally decide to dye yours.”

“I did dye my hair!”

“You’re blonde, and you dyed your hair more blonde. Doesn’t count.”

“How does that not count?!”

“Cuz you gotta dye it another color.”

“It was another color!”

“No, it was a different shade. Not the same thing.”

Luke made sputtering sounds of disbelief. “Cal! C’mon, tell Mike it’s the same thing.”

Calum snorted. “I’m with Mike on this one. Dying your hair a different shade, isn’t the same as dying it a different color.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Not if that side’s wrong, I’m not.”

“You’re an ass for 1. And for 2, your nails are done.”

“Very pwetty,” McKenna beamed, proud of her handiwork.

“Thank you very much, darling,” Calum said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Now we all match. Me, you, and Daddy.”

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @major5sosstan @1weekago @kaitieskidmore1

#painted pink room #calum hood #calum hood fic #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #calum hood x luke hemmings #dad!cake #dad!sos #5sos #calpal irwin

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beepbeeprichiellc · 7 years ago

Text

Rose Thorns (3/11)

Summary: Richie Tozier and his band find themselves in a once and a life time situation but can Richie step out of his comfort zone to skyrocket the bands chances for success? Eddie Kaspbrak works at the famous Bourbon Room Club and is responsible for the nights entertainment, when a group of misfits audition for him and his boss he finds himself questioning everything he had thought he knew about himself, love and rock and roll.

A/N: This ended up being a lot longer than I intended. It's really just a filler chapter but it's meant to be informative....but came off as well...crappy.

Word Count: 2141

Masterlist

Part: (1) (2) 3 (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

Eddie scoffed at his paperwork, the numbers and names mocking him. His head began to ache as time passed him at an agonizing rate. Mondays were the worst; bills needed to be updated, a line up needed to be finalized and a report needed to be on Dupree’s desk by the next morning for approval. Although Eddie knew his boss never even bothered to glance over his work, instead sloppily signing his approval and putting his faith in his right hand man, he still put every fiber he had into his bookkeeping.

In the end his neat, almost pristine hand writing would overcome his desk. Scarp paperwork and discarded forms strewn around him, each in their own neat pile. It wasn’t the best or most exciting part of the job but it was necessary. Once, a year or two ago, Eddie had hired a young pretty thing to help him with his paperwork. She had flirted and ass-kissed her way into his upstairs loft, only to ruin his system completely. Even going as far as to offering to sleep with him to keep her job when he confronted her.

Boy, did she bark up the wrong tree.

There was a commotion downstairs, followed by loud, obnoxious voices that seemed to carry through the nearly empty club. They were recognized instantly and Eddie couldn’t help feel his heart jump into his throat. His eyes looked to the clock in his kitchen and he groaned, knowing that he wasn’t going to get anything done with the band practicing right below him.

Finally he decided to put his duties on the back burner and check out the Losers new line up, knowing that they would need to adjust for Richie’s deeper vocals. A sudden chill washed over him, the thought of the lanky, tattered looking boy who had kissed his cheek ran through his mind and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

He exited his flat, carefully closing his door behind him. The stairs lead out near the back, competently out of reach from the public. Eddie noticed the barkeep, his eyes inspecting the Losers as they set up their equipment. “Hey Mike, how’s it going?”

Mike turned to look at the smaller boy and smiled, “Hey there Eddie, I usually don’t see you on Mondays. Taking a break?”

Eddie shrugged, leaning against the bar’s liquor stand. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m going to get anything done with that racket.” He motioned to the band, who at that moment were arguing over something unseen to the two. They watched as Richie mocked the stuttering boy, his hands flailing erratically in the air.

There was a chuckle from Mike, “I like them, they seem different from the others that pass through here.”

“Well they’re our age.” Eddie added, “And they don’t have the arrogant stink most bands have.” He watched as Ben, who at this point had a very irritated look on his face, walk over to the trashmouths instrument and hook it up to the amp. Richie shrugged and patted the stagehand on the back causing his anger to wash away. Beverly spoke softly to Ben, which only turned his skin red.

“I heard that Richie kid ripped you a new one last night.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “I guess, if that’s what you want to call it, it’s not the first time someone has made comments about my look.” He sneered, a coil painfully tightening in his lower stomach. “He was all worked up with audition and Dupree’s suggestion to make him lead singer.”

“Dupree’s suggestion or yours?”

The smaller boy grinned, “Why would you ask that Mike?”

The barkeep chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too good for this place Eddie, why do you even stay? You could make it big out west, make some serious bucks.”

Eddie suddenly felt dirty, the idea of the west coast sent his heart to the floor. For a moment his hand grazed his pocket, only to remember that he had given up his inhaler years ago. He took in a deep breath, picking up his organ off of the ground. With a fake smirk he replied, “If I go then who is going to take care of you and Ben?”

Mike smiled, patting his friend on the back. Eddie fought the urge to snake out of the path of his hand, instead accepting the kind gesture in full. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the compassion, it was just he knew that Mike cleaned out the grease traps on Monday mornings and the kid was filthy.

There was a screeching noise from the microphone as Richie tapped it. Both Eddie and Mike cringed, hissing at the ringing in their ears. “This song is dedicated to Eddie Spaghetti, don’t think we can’t see you over there next to Mikey.”

Eddie’s whole body burned in embarrassment as he watched the trashmouth blow him a kiss. Mike roared in laughter as the soft count came from Bill.

“1…2…1…2…3…4”

Practice hit a snag around the fifth hour, the Losers were grouchy and hungry when Richie managed to take a joke too far causing Stan to throw his drumsticks at his head. He missed, just barely, and whacked Ben in the face who was standing off stage. That was when Bill called it quits for the day.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Beverly asked for the fifth time, to which Ben smirked and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He nodded, “Okay because those were meant for Rich not you.” She soothed, looking over to the trashmouth who shrugged.

“Yeah, sorry about that man.” Stan muttered, hopping off stage gracefully, landing on both feet. “I guess my aim isn’t as good as I thought.

“Seemed pretty on to me.” Ben joked, rubbing his swollen cheek.

Stan chuckled, patting the stagehand on the back. “Let me make it up to you. Come to dinner with us and I’ll pay.”

“Hey I want in on that action.” Richie jeered, hopping off of stage with less grace than his friend and nearly slamming onto the hard wood floor. “You almost hit me ya know.”

“Yeah but you deserved it.” Stan hissed, ignoring Richie’s infectious smile. He turned back to Ben, “What do you say, have dinner with us Losers?”

“I don’t know.” Ben replied, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” Beverly cooed, offering a gentle smile.

Ben’s face reddened for the fourth time that day, “I guess I can but I usually pick up dinner with Mike on Mondays before we head back to our apartment.”

“T-then invite h-him along. Th-the more the m-merrier.” Bill smiled, finally making it to his friends off stage.

Richie turned towards the bar and expected to see two boys, only to be surprised by one. He raised an eyebrow, confused by the manager’s lack of presence. “What about Eddie, think he’s up for some dinner?” He could feel the group’s eyes on him causing an embarrassed blush to crawl up his neck. “I mean I do kinda owe him after what I said the other night.”

Ben shook his head, “Na, you’re not going to get Eddie out on a Monday. It’s paperwork day.”

“He seems like a stickler huh?” Richie asked, feeling his stomach twist painfully. “Doesn’t like people all that much?”

“No, that’s not it.” Ben corrected, “He is just very dedicated to his job’s all.”

“Well I guess he’d have to be, being the manager and all.” Stan replied. Ben merely shrugged, not offering any more.

The group, plus two, decided on a pizza parlor for dinner. Not only was it within walking distance from the Bourbon Room, Mike had a thing going on with one of the girls working there and he was sure he could snag them some free pizzas. This had the Losers ecstatic and Richie was glad they could save some of their already fleeting money.

“So tell me about you guys.” Mike instructed, in-between bites of his food. “How did you four end up together?”

Richie smirked, shoveling food into his gullet. “They love me, I couldn’t decide on just one so we ended up in a four-some.”

Stan scoffed, “Yeah that’s not it, you were almost voted out of the group last week trashmouth.” Richie pursed his face, mocking is friend. The stoic boy only grimaced, glaring down is immature friend.

“We’re from the same town.” Beverly interjected, giggling at her two friend’s non-verbal argument. “We kind of created The Losers Club in high school and it went on from there.”

“That’s cool.” Ben replied, smiling at the group. “Mike and I know each other from high school too.”

“Oh y-yeah, that’s n-neat.” Bill replied.

“Yeah we came down here after graduation, ended up finding Eddie again and he gave us a job.” Ben went on to say, leaning back into his chair. “Now we’re roommates.”

Richie’s ears perked up at Eddie’s name and his focus was drawn from Stan. “So you guys knew Eddie before coming to New York?” He asked, looking over to the two at the far end of the booth.

Mike and Ben shared a look, and Richie could feel his blood run cold. “Y-Yeah.” Mike finally answered, adjusting himself in the booth uncomfortably. “He’s from our town, was our friend before-“He paused, looking at the others in the booth that had suddenly became completely absorbed in his explanation.

The barkeep sighed heavily, “Look if I tell you guys you have to promise me you won’t tell Eddie that I told you.” The Losers nodded, “I’m serious, this is some pretty heavy stuff and if you can’t be mature about it then it’s better if it��s left unsaid.”

Everyone looked to Richie who scoffed, “I can be mature.” He protested, looking at his friends with a hurt look. There was a moment of silence, and Richie found himself at the edge of his seat, desperate to learn more about the boy who had begun to grow on him.

“Alright.” Mike finally continued, looking over to Ben who nodded. “Well, like I said Eddie is from out town. His dad died when he was real young and it was just him and his mom.”

“I bet she’s hot.” Richie joked, only to be pinched by Beverly, who then shot him a serious look.

Mike shook his head, “She was fucking crazy. Had him believing he was sick when he actually wasn’t. He would take the placebo pills and inhaler every hour just to keep up with his moms lie. It was horrible and Eddie isn’t a big guy to begin with so he just believed her.” Richie flinched, imagining a young Eddie being overpowered by his mother, abused by her own insanity. He felt sorry for him, his heart swelling with an emotion that he couldn’t pin point.

“Well,” Mike muttered, “When he was sixteen Eddie came out as gay and his mom flipped shit. She threatened to send him to a psychiatric ward to help with his ‘sicknesses’. When he refused, she kicked him out.”

“She just casted off him like that because of who he liked?” Beverly choked, obviously holding back her emotions. “That’s so sad.”

“Yeah not to mention fucked up.” Richie added, feeling anger swelter in his chest.

Mike agreed, “Yeah I know. Well the poor kid came to New York looking for a way to support himself. A few months on the street and he landed a job at The Bourbon Room. He mopped up vomit and swept trash on the nights bands played in exchange for the loft upstairs.”

“H-how did he b-become manager?” Bill asked.

It was Ben who spoke up, “Eddie has this-well this gift, I guess you can say. He has one hell of an ear for music. The last three bands that have come out of The Bourbon Room have hit billboard’s top 100 and Eddie handpicked them all.”

“What the fuck?” Richie spat, speaking for all if the Losers. “He has to be making Dupree some serious money.”

The two other boys shrugged, “I can tell you one thing.” Mike added, smirking towards the lanky boy on the end. “If Dupree moved you to lead singer, it was on Eddie’s recommendation.”

Stan’s laughter cut through them, causing the group to glare at his bellowing form. “Oh my god.” He choked, pointing to Richie. “You-you told him he didn’t know anything about rock and roll.” The others in the booth began to snicker at Richie’s misfortune, not bothering to hide their amusement.

Richie felt a wave of guilt wash over him. His stomach knotted painfully at the thought of his criticism towards Eddie. “Ahhh fuck.” He muttered, slamming his head against the table painfully. The group only laughed louder as Richie groaned in agony.

#reddie #the losers club #it #it 2017 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stan uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #it au #it fanfiction

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