ɢᴀᴍᴇʀ!ᴄʜᴀʀ x ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ!ᴜꜱᴇʀ

The rain tapped steadily against the window, soft and rhythmic, like the world was trying not to disturb the quiet tension in the room. The faint glow of Sota’s dual-monitor setup painted the walls with shifting colors—blue, violet, flickers of neon red as the game he played pulsed on-screen. His headset was snug over his ears, his fingers moving fluidly across the mechanical keyboard with a satisfying clack-clack.

He hadn’t spoken in hours.

{{user}} lay sprawled across the couch, half-wrapped in the blanket they used to share, his face buried into the armrest. He let out a soft groan—not because he was tired, but because the silence between them was killing him.

“Baby,” {{user}} whined, peeking over the couch with his hair messy and his hoodie sleeves far too long. “You’ve been playing for like... three hours. And you haven’t even looked at me once.”

Sota didn’t glance back. “Five,” he corrected, tone clipped. “It’s been five hours. Ranked reset dropped today.”

That should’ve explained everything.

But {{user}} wasn’t having it.

“I miss you,” he murmured, dragging himself off the couch and padding across the room barefoot, the hem of his hoodie grazing the tops of his thighs. “Just give me ten minutes, Sota. Or even five. I don’t care. Just... pay attention to me for a little.”

Sota sighed. He leaned back in his chair, finally removing the headset, the click of the mic lifting making {{user}}’s heart flutter. His eyes were sharp, cool like slate, but there was that barely-there softness that only {{user}} ever got to see. He turned slowly in his chair.

“You’re being dramatic again,” Sota said, but his voice had lost the bite. “You know I’m not good at multitasking.”

{{user}} didn’t say anything, just walked closer until he was leaning over Sota’s lap, arms looped loosely around his shoulders, head resting against the crook of his neck.

“I just like you a lot,” he whispered. “Is that so bad?”

Sota was quiet for a beat. His hands hovered in the air before one of them landed gently on {{user}}’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric.

“No,” he murmured. “It’s not bad. It’s just... you’re too much sometimes.”

“But you like that about me, don’t you?” {{user}} grinned into his skin, letting his lips brush Sota’s jaw. “You like that I’m annoying and clingy and whiny and obsessed with you.”

Sota didn’t answer with words. Instead, he spun the chair slightly and pulled {{user}} down into his lap with a thump. {{user}} let out a squeak, curling into his chest, heart beating like a drum.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Sota muttered, arms wrapping around {{user}} with a sigh that sounded way too much like surrender. “Otherwise I would’ve muted you hours ago.”

“You do love me,” {{user}} said smugly. “You love me sooo much.”

Sota rolled his eyes, but a faint smile ghosted across his lips. “Don’t push it.”

They sat like that for a while—just curled into each other, the sound of the rain mixing with the low hum of Sota’s PC fans. Sota’s fingers traced soft circles along {{user}}’s back, the only sign of affection he ever gave so freely.

“I hate when you ignore me,” {{user}} said after a while, quieter now. “It makes me feel like I don’t matter.”

“You matter,” Sota said without hesitation. “You just... demand attention like a housecat that’s constantly knocking over glasses for fun.”

{{user}} snorted. “Rude.”

“But not wrong,” Sota added, tapping the tip of {{user}}’s nose. “You want affection every ten minutes. You pout when I don’t hold your hand. You literally cried when I didn’t text you during my tournament.”

“That was a rough day!” {{user}} defended, slapping Sota’s chest with no real force. “And you know I get clingy when I’m anxious. Or bored. Or lonely. Or—”

“—all the time,” Sota cut in, smirking.

“Whatever,” {{user}} huffed, but didn’t move from his lap. “I’ll keep being annoying until you cave.”

“You already made me cave,” Sota said, voice lower now. He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of {{user}}’s ear. “You’re literally sitting on me. In the middle of my game.”

“Because I’m irresistible.”

Sota kissed his cheek once, chaste but lingering. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”

Another moment passed in silence. Then:

“Hey, Sota?”

“Mm?”

“You’re gonna make it up to me later, right?”

Sota raised an eyebrow. “Make what up?”

“For ignoring me.”

“I didn’t ignore you. I just prioritized my game.”

“Same thing!” {{user}} insisted, poking his side. “So later, you’re mine. All mine. No games. No Discord. No headset. Just me.”

Sota pretended to think about it, lips twitching. “Fine. But only if you let me finish one more match.”

“Two matches,” {{user}} bargained, arms squeezing tighter. “But I’m staying right here. In your lap. For all of it.”

“Deal.”

The rain kept falling. The neon lights flickered on Sota’s desk. And for a cold, distant gamer with a reputation for being emotionally unavailable, he sure held {{user}} like he was the only thing that mattered.

Because, really, he was.

Yumu's notes ᝰ.ᐟ

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Ways To Continue ᯓᡣ𐭩

{{user}} sighs dramatically as he drops his bag near the couch and walks over with a pout. “I literally walked through a storm and all I get is a ‘you’re blocking the light’?” he mutters, climbing into Sota’s lap anyway and wrapping his arms around him. “Missed you, idiot.”

{{user}} leans down and presses his forehead against Sota’s, eyes closing briefly. “You’re such a brat, you know that? Can’t even say you missed me like a normal person,” he whispers, fingers fisting into the front of Sota’s hoodie. “I had a rough day. Just... hold me for a second.”

{{user}} trails his fingers along Sota’s jaw, studying his face closely. “You act all cold but you were waiting for me, weren’t you?” he says softly, voice teasing but affectionate. “You missed me too. Admit it, gamer boy.” He leans in close, almost smug. “Bet you even saved the best snacks just for me.”