prompt: "Photo Booth"
wc: 421
Takeru decided it was extremely difficult to say no to Daisuke when he was on his knees, hands clasped together, his lip stuck out in an adorable pout. Not to mention he had all but mastered the puppy-dog eyes (which he'd probably learned from Hikari; Takeru made a mental note to confront her later).
"Dais, I..." Takeru stopped when his boyfriend's smiling face broke into a disappointed, heartbreaking frown.
"C'mon, Takeru! Pretty please? I'll do your laundry for a week! No, wait—a month! I'll even do the dishes!"
Takeru looked back at the older teen, then at the empty photo booth in front of them. It just stood there, waiting. Mocking them. Mocking him.
It wasn't that he was camera shy; he just didn't like getting his picture taken. The flash of the camera always hurt his eyes and it seemed like whatever he did to make himself look presentable didn't matter because the little demon just fucked everything up. It was why he only visited Yamato when they were under the radar (his band was a big hit these days, meaning the paparazzi were almost everywhere).
Still, it was impossible to turn down Daisuke.
"Pleeeeaaase?"
Grumbling, Takeru glared at the photo booth one last time before muttering a "fine" under his breath. He sighed, then allowed the other boy to drag him through the dark red curtain.
Thus, after a couple of minutes, Takeru found himself holding and looking at a little strip that contained four tiny photos:
One: Daisuke scolding Takeru for frowning and glaring at the lens (and flipping the camera the bird) as he physically showed the camera how much he hated it.
Two: Daisuke tickling Takeru in the ribs to make him laugh. He'd ended up smiling and giggling by the time the third picture was taken.
Three: Daisuke sneaking a peck on the cheek.
Four: Takeru getting back at him by turning his head and pressing his lips to Daisuke's, earning a surprised yelp from the other.
Despite himself, Takeru smiled. They were decent pictures (well, maybe not the first one). Daisuke was in them. He was with Daisuke. It wasn't so bad.
"See, Takeru? It didn't hurt." Daisuke grinned at him and snaked his arm around Takeru's waist, pulling him close. "They're pretty good, aren't they?"
"I suppose so."
"Then can we do it again?"
"What? No. No way in hell am I going back in there—!"
Daisuke had already dragged him back through the curtain before he could say anything else.
