#spacetimeandcoffee

Sousuke snorts. “Gou,” he says. “This isn’t a fake proposal at a restaurant to get a free dessert or whatever internet shit you find hilarious. I don’t want to do this to gain anything. I’m just trying to get my parents off my back for once, you know? Save me the grief of not bringing a nice girl home yet.”

“Since going back to school?”

“Since ever, Gou. I don’t even want to think about how many late-bloomer conversations my dad tried to have with me in high school.”

Gou starts laughing, and it takes a bit for her to stop. “They can’t be that bad, can they?”

“You’re only able to say that,” he begins, pauses to watch his character die on-screen, again, “because you don’t know my parents.”

Gou makes a low, intrigued noise. “When you say things like that it just makes me want to get to know them, you know.”

“I could do without your masochism in my life, thanks. Especially when it involves my parents.”

“Too bad you chose to live with me, then.” 

“Chose,” Sousuke deadpans, thinking back to the several lease agreement copies he found tucked into every corner of his old studio apartment. He narrowly manages to block the pillow that’s hurled towards his head.

“So, what? You take this girl you barely know out to dinner with them and they’re just convinced?”

Sousuke shrugs. “We have a few classes with each other, so once the dinner’s over we’ll just pile up on photos together to send to them. They’re not on social media or anything, so it’s not like I gotta make it a thing.”

“And what if this poor girl actually starts to like you?”

“Please don’t jinx me into having to deal with unrequited love.”

“You jerk,” Gou says, and this time it’s her that shoots Sousuke’s character dead—though the humor in her voice keeps him from being too annoyed. “You aren’t even considering liking her back!”

“It’s a fake date for a reason, Gou. You know I’m not looking for that shit.”

“Well, Jesus, Sousuke, if you’re so scared of that and you needed someone convenient, you could have just asked me.”

The sentence hits him in increments, and in the time it takes for him to understand he looks at her, for the first time since the beginning of this conversation. She is looking back at him, her expression halfway towards defiance and halfway towards something that looks vaguely horrified.

He blinks, and gravely says, “Can I get that in writing?”

Gou’s expression relaxes into something exhausted, which is fitting with the rest of her—newly cut hair a mess around her ears and neck, too-large sweats hanging off of her every angle. “It’d be more believable, don’t you think? We live together, after all.”

“Are you jealous?”

In case he wasn’t already aware that saying it was about the equivalent of shoving an entire leg in his mouth, Gou glowers, face heating, and chucks a remote at him this time—he doesn’t dodge it in time, and it ricochets off of his chest. “I’m not jealous! I am personally offended, though. A little.”

“A little,” Sousuke echoes, aware of the silence now that says that Gou has paused the game. The controller weighs a little too heavy in his palms. “Sorry, never thought you’d actually agree to it.”

He makes sure to leave the implication there—he’d thought of her first. If the flush had been dying down it flares back up again now, painting the tips of her ears a bright, glowing red. 

“You’re my best friend. I don’t mind doing stupid things every now and then for you.”

“So if I tell this girl she doesn’t have to worry about it anymore,” Sousuke says, “you’ll sit through an entire fucking dinner with my parents?”

“Don’t make it sound like death row.”

“I would never. That’d be sugar-coating it.”

Gou scoffs, extends every limb out to her sides like her body is giving under the frustration. “Whatever! Yes, I’ll go to dinner with them. And you. You’re paying, aren’t you?”

“What kind of date would I be if I didn’t?”

“No less a real one than you’re going to be,” Gou says, then unpauses the game without warning. Sousuke makes a startled noise, but they settle back into the background noise easily.

Easily. Everything’s always been easy with Gou, Sousuke thinks. 

“One thing,” he says, a few minutes later, and waits for Gou’s permissive grunt. “What happens if you start to actually like me?”

“You mean other than hell freezing over?”

“That one almost stung.”

“Sousuke,” Gou says, tiredly. “If I actually fall for you while we’re doing this, I will literally personally write your thesis essay.”

“Appreciate the confidence, but I’ve seen your writing skill. I’m good.”

“As long as we understand each other,” Gou says, and they’re granted another ten seconds of peace before she sits straight up. “Wait, what the hell’s wrong with my writing?”