#even after everything i think fuuta would be very defensive about his internet reputation

[good-beanswrites]

Combining one of @waivyjellyfish and @justzosiahere’s asks to get a silly little LCSyS scene (fame-route). Thank you for the requests :3 

Fuuta looked up from his phone to find Es’ gaze directly on him. They studied him in silence before nodding definitely to themself. Even now, with the acting all over and no more prison hierarchies to uphold, it was never a good sign when the warden gave him such a stare.

“What.”

“It’s nothing.” They turned back to their own phone, their fingers flying across the screen.

“It’s something.”

Es kept tapping away. 

“Ugh, don’t tell me you’re hanging out on those Milgram fanblogs again.”

Es instinctually pulled the screen tighter to their chest. “There’s nothing wrong with them…”

“I fucking knew it!”

“They’re fun!”

“They’re crap,” he said. He shifted his position on the couch, pushing into Es ‘s legs with his feet. “Weren’t you the one who judged that it was creepy to stalk people’s real life online?”

Es kicked back. “You gave your permission – it’s not stalking. Everything is perfectly legal and respectful.”

“I’ve seen some of those posts, they’re the furthest thing from respectful… Like right now – what are you saying about me?”

It was a long-running debate whether it was strange for Es to have an undercover account (very creatively named @ Es_undercover) on which they talked about the experiment. They met with plenty of psychologists, scientists, and lawyers after the project, so Fuuta could never understand why they wanted to keep talking about the whole experience as a leisure activity. 

Their eyes flicked between the text they were writing up and Fuuta’s face, considering. 

“We’re discussing… if you’re microwavable.”

“Hah?” 

“Of course I’m answering yes.”

Fuuta’s surprise quickly turned to offense. “The fuck you mean ‘of course’?”

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“I’ve been online way longer than you brat!” He gave them another nudge across the couch. They tucked their legs in to dodge. “And I am not. That’s for like… sad squishy guys like Haruka. Or fucked up little girls like Amane. Or someone who’s both, like you.”

The calmness in Es’ expression finally cracked, and they swatted back at him. “Oi! Just for that I’m posting this publicly.” They made a show hitting the share button.

“You take that down!” Fuuta lunged for their phone. Es managed to keep it out of his grasp, but only barely. Fuuta’s scrambling for it dragged them both off the couch and onto the floor. Even as Es smushed their palm in his face to keep him away, Fuuta reached up to yank the hood of their sweatshirt over their eyes.

Some yelling, kicking, and tugging later, Fuuta emerged victorious. He held the phone close, curling in on himself to withstand Es grabbing at his arms and covering his eyes. He managed to read the reactions and replies that were quickly flooding in.

A pair of feet appeared next to them, having come to investigate the outburst. 

“Amane–!”

Es snatched their phone back, but this time it was surrendered up readily. They smirked at the microwave gifs people were already sharing.

Fuuta untangled himself to look up at her with desperate, pleading eyes. 

“Am I… microwavable…?”

“Huh? Oh, definitely.”