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“Alright, time to finish this.” Goro turned to face his rival with a smile. “Oh, do you have any words of encouragement for me?” Not that he needed them. He had made it his business to be flawless at darts, and he was winning. Even if it was a team game.
Kurusu just cocked his head to the side and watched him silently. Goro waited him out, smile unmoving on his lips. Kurusu got lost in his head sometimes. You just had to be patient. Most of the time he had something interesting to say. And then. And then. The boy’s lips twitched up into a sharp, positively malicious smile, eyes narrowing with delighted glee, and Goro felt his fingers go tight around the dart he held, a dread-laced anticipation building in his chest, because that look never meant anything good for him. It meant playful comments and sharp debates and his flawless Detective Prince mask slipping from his grasp bit by bit until he barely remembered he was supposed to be acting at all. It meant Kurusu being everything he hadn't expected him to be and more. It meant trouble.
Kurusu shifted back, arranged his features into a smile so sickly sweet and blinding Goro was almost jealous, cupped his hands around his mouth, and cheered, “Go, go, Goro-saaaan!” In a far higher pitch than his normal voice.
Goro blinked. Blinked again. He couldn’t quite quell the surprise he felt before it flickered across his face, making him stare, wide-eyed, at the other boy, lips parted, mind not processing. It was barely a second before he regained his composure, but it was enough for smug satisfaction to settle in Kurusu’s eyes, in the curve of his smile. Goro snapped his jaw shut and schooled his expression back to pleasant neutrality, gritting his teeth. Fucking Kurusu. Irritation prickled across his skin, settling in his flesh like Loki’s claws, burning hot and dizzying. Kurusu sounded like one of those fucking fangirls that went around shrieking at the mere sight of him, one of those overzealous fans that chased him day in and day out, the exact type of person he’d come here to avoid— Goro just barely held back a scowl. Why the fuck was he like this? Why was he so goddamn—
“Oh!” Goro said with a sweet laugh, swallowing the murderous rage bubbling up his throat, threatening to choke him. He actually fucking hated this guy. “Uh, sure… thanks.” He turned back to the board stiltedly, taking deep, even breaths past the fury. He didn’t miss the unbearably pleased smile on Kurusu’s face, but decided punching him straight in the nose wouldn’t be good for his image.
Instead he locked eyes on the board. This was fine. This was all fine. He just had to hit the one. He’d been sure he could do it before he stupidly initiated conversation with Kurusu, and he was sure he could do it now. It would just require a bit more concentration. He took a deep breath and drew his arm back. Focus. This was just like so many times before. He liked darts. He was good at darts. He could make this fucking shot in his sleep. All he had to do… was focus… breathe… aim… and— He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Kurusu’s smug face flashed before his eyes. Go, go Goro-saaaan! echoed in his ears. His lips twisted. Wait— Goro? He felt his eyes go wide again. He'd called him— His breath caught in his throat. His face flushed with warmth. His fingers twitched.
The dart landed right in the center. Right in the bullseye. Right in fifty points, bringing them up to 350. The game was 301. The word ‘Bust!’ flashed tauntingly on the screen. They lost. Goro stared blankly at it. They lost. He lost. He threw the game. He fucking threw the game. Kurusu had actually made him fucking miss with that bullshit ‘Goro-san’ crap. Calling him by his given name like that, in that stupid goddamn voice, out of the fucking blue, for no reason other than to taunt him— Goro was going to jam his remaining fucking darts right between his stupid goddamn eyes—
“...My.” He gave a sweet, light laugh as the world flashed red. “It seems I’m a bit off my game.”
He turned back to find Kurusu smirking at him like the cat who caught the fucking canary, all smug, languid ease, his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes dancing with amusement. He just struck a fucking nerve and he knew it. They had both lost but Goro had been the one to bring them down and apparently that was enough for him. Goro seriously, honestly, genuinely loathed him. No one else got under his skin like this stupid fucking boy and his stupid fucking eyes and his stupid, sharp, witty responses to anything Goro had to say. No one else.
“It’s okay Goro-senpai<3!” He said, face once more shifting into that nauseatingly bright, sparkling smile, and Goro actually had to fight back the urge to deck him in his stupid goddamn face. Fucking seriously. Saying his given name like that— Why was he fucking like this? “I still believe in you!” He continued with a grin.
“Stop.” Goro said, not necessarily unkindly, but with enough no-nonsense in his tone to convey that this was no longer fun and games— and hopefully to remind his incurably stupid darts partner who was currently holding the sharp objects. “Seriously. You’re… giving me chills.”
“Mm, hopefully the good kind.” Kurusu replied with a wink, and Goro felt something inside of him snap.
His rival leaned in close enough for him to catch the faintest whiff of coffee and metal before he moved past him, and Goro was left to stare blankly out at the darts club, the last tenuous thread of his self-control wearing dangerously thin as his fingers dug into his palms and his teeth ground together and his heart gave a pitiful little flutter— No doubt the start of a stress-induced heart attack and not, in any way, related to the way Kurusu’s gunmetal eyes sparkled with playful amusement, the way his ridiculous lashes moved as he winked and his voice dipped into something suggestive and enticing— People will notice if I try to gouge his eyes out, he found himself thinking. It wouldn’t be a good look for me.
“Care for another round, ‘Kechi?” He heard Kurusu ask, taking one last second to regain his composure before turning back to face him. That languid smugness was still written in every line of his face, but it was less malicious this time. A bit more playful. He twirled Goro’s thrown dart around his fingers effortlessly. “I think you’ll have to work to repair my opinion of you.” He said with a smile that was both taunting and teasing.
Goro forced a laugh. He always did when had nothing socially acceptable to say. “Of course, Kurusu-kun.” He said sweetly. And then, because Kurusu was being a little shit and Goro was tired, he threw in a sarcastic, “You know how much I care about your good opinion.”
The quip made Kurusu grin. Not fakely. Not sweetly. Not perfectly. Just happily. A bit crooked and a bit too wide, his face lighting up with genuine amusement. Goro felt the flutter in his chest get worse. “I’ll go first.” His rival said, holding a hand out for the darts Goro still held tight in his hand. “Good luck Goro-san<3.” He added when he handed them over, effectively canceling out the electric thrill of pale, elegant fingers brushing against his gloved ones.
“Kurusu.” Goro snapped sharply, genuine exasperation finally bleeding through, and Kurusu barked a delighted laugh that did not make the flutter in his chest spread all the way to his fingertips, buzzing and sparkling and breathlessly light, because that would be—
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop.” Kurusu said with a chuckle, holding his hands up in faux surrender. He shot him an easy, crooked smile as he turned to face the board. “Good luck, ‘Kechi.” He added earnestly, and Goro didn’t say anything at all. He just took his place beside Morgana by the table, watching intently as his rival’s focus narrowed in on the dartboard, anything to ignore the off-putting way his heart was still fluttering in his chest, how the back of his mind was still caught on fake sunshine smiles and the sound of his given name on his rival’s lips, no matter how ingenuine the circumstance.
He could almost ignore the mocking edge to his voice. Could almost imagine it said in Kurusu’s normal tone, low and warm and comforting, like expertly brewed coffee that was just that bit too hot on his tongue. Goro. He closed his eyes and bit down on the inside of his cheek, releasing a shaky breath through his nose. This boy. This boy was actually going to be the death of him. Unless Goro got to him first.