Chapter Text
“If Momota-chan can beat me in chess, maaaaybe I’ll consider giving him his birthday present.”
Momota scowled. Ouma is in front of him situated in the other couch, smirking devilishly, sitting as if it was a makeshift throne. Momota had a suspicion that that is exactly why Ouma loved that couch and practically begged him to buy it when they shopped for apartment furniture nearly two years ago. He really couldn’t complain, Ouma does look quite dashing when he’s in Supreme Leader mode (not to mention that he was wearing his DICE uniform at the moment) but the little shit didn’t have to know that and get his ego any larger.
In front of them lay a chess board. A chess board with glass pieces. Momota vaguely remembered seeing this in the DICE headquarters the last time he stopped by. Ouma rarely splurges on buying things he liked (unless he’s going to make someone else pay for it, of course), so he had a nagging feeling this chess board was some sort of gift from the DICE members. The thought made him smile.
“Momo-chaaaan, stop stalling and tell me if you’re up to it! Or are you too much of a chicken to play a match with little old me?”
Just like that, the smile was gone and the scowl was back in effect. Is the guy really serious about this? How does he expect Momota to beat him in chess? “This isn’t fair at all.” He argued.“You should’ve made your game something we're both good with, like, I dunno… milk puzzles or something.”
Ouma snickered in a way that was both cute and fucking aggravating. “Chess is easy, Momota-chan.” He teased.
“For you, maybe!” He said indignantly.
“It’s not my fault Momota-chan is too simple-minded! I play chess with Saihara-chan and Amami-chan all the time!” The Supreme Leader, replied as he tilted his head innocently, before his expression turned more dejected. “What, you can’t play my favorite game with me? Even if I’m your boyfriend? M-Momota-chan?! That’s so mean!” Crocodile tears were already edging at his eyes. Momota rolled his eyes.
“Shut up and make the first move already, you dipshit. If you don’t have a present, you could have just told me. Not make me play some game I obviously can’t win.”
Ouma giggled as he took his pawn and moved it two spaces toward him--- the usual opening move. “Nishishi. You just need to capture the white king, Momota-chan!” He said as he poked the king piece on his side of the board. “How hard can it be?”
Insanely hard, apparently. Three matches later, Momota was already feeling frustrated. Ouma was merciless, he didn’t look like he wanted him to win at all. Every time Momota makes a good move, Ouma counters it with something even better. That was when Momota started observing the chessboard less and Ouma more. The Supreme Leader had an air of nonchalance about him, sometimes teasing and prodding the shit out of him whenever he gets the smallest advantage in the game--- but his shoulders seem… more tense than usual. Why? It almost makes Momota feel as if he didn’t want to give the astronaut his birthday present. As if this whole chess game idea was just a ruse to stall time.
The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that maybe… maybe he forgot Momota’s birthday. Maybe he didn’t have a present at all. While that was a bummer, Momota really wouldn’t mind…. Well, he kinda would, since Ouma never forgot special occasions before, but if Ouma just stopped this charade and admitted it maybe they could just go out on a date. Momota sighed as he scratched the back of his head.
“Kokichi, look. If you forgot to get me a present, I won’t get mad.” He assured him.
Ouma stared at him incredulously, looking genuinely offended. “Does Momota-chan really think I’m that bad of a boyfriend?”
Okay… so if it’s not that, why is Ouma so tense? Why is he so hesitant?
The game continued, and his questions remained unanswered. Momota sighed heavily as he lost for the nth time, groaning dejectedly. Capture the white king. Why is it so fucking hard? When he started to suggest them to stop, it was Ouma who looked vaguely disappointed, making him feel even more confused. If he wants me to win, then he should just let me! But he wasn’t letting him. Capture the white king. It was probably the frustration that’s making his judgement falter, because the next game had him losing within five turns. Capture the white king.
Suddenly, it clicked. A thought occurred to him. Capture the white king…
He stared at Ouma. Ouma cocked an eyebrow. “Momota-chan?”
A grin made its way to his lips as he suddenly stood up, catching Ouma by surprise. The next moment, he was already walking over and lifting the Supreme Leader by the waist, throwing him over his shoulder as he started walking towards the bedroom.
“Momota-chan?! What---“ Ouma squirmed, sounding genuinely confused. Momota laughed.
“Capture the white king, right? I won’t even have to play that shitty board game if I just take you.” he said, a little proud of how witty this solution was. He tossed Ouma on the bed, and Ouma squeaked as Momota pushed him down and kissed him, sweet lavish kisses that left the Supreme Leader breathless. When Momota pulled back, his eyes were sparkling. “Right? My white king?”
Ouma flushed, but he giggled. “Momota-chan, that’s so cheesy.”
“But it’s true. So just give me my goddamn present.”
That seemed to snap Ouma back to reality, to their agreement. His expression fell, and for a moment he looked uncomfortable, biting his lower lip idly. Suddenly, he looked away. “I lied. I really forgot to get Momota-chan a birthday present.”
If he said that earlier, Momota would have believed him. Now, not so much. Momota gave him a look. “Kokichi. I know you’re lying now. Honestly though, what’s bothering you? I don’t get it.”
Ouma was silent for a long while. Momota leaned down and pressed kisses on his jaw, humming contentedly, waiting for him to get more comfortable, waiting for him to open up. He had been his lover long enough to know that forcing him to speak would only lead nowhere.
“If…” Ouma licked his lips. “If I’m your present, would you mind?”
Momota frowned as he leaned back and stared at him. “What do you mean?”
Ouma swallowed hard as he pulled down his scarf. There, on his neck, a silver chain gleamed, and on its pendant was a ring. The ring didn’t look like much, just a simple silver band, but as soon as he saw it, Momota’s world stopped. He just stared, dumbfounded.
“Happy Birthday.” Ouma said, blushing to the roots of his hair. “Will you marry me?”