Shishido groans, long and low. His head tips back, eyes closing, baring his throat. Choutarou bites back a smirk, blinking a couple times until his face is the image of wide eyed innocence. He twists and leans, hovering over Shishido's face.
"Are you okay, Shishido-san?" He scolds himself internally for the teasing quality to his voice, wanting to extend his game of faux innocence. Shishido slits one eye open, scowling at him.
"You never let me win," Shishido whines, rolling his hips and slouching down. "It's not fair. You're supposed to be a good kouhai."
Ohtori licks his lips and smiles brightly. "Ah," he breathes quietly, "what can I do to be a better kouhai, Shishido-senpai?" He drags out the last syllable, barely holding back the sly laughter bubbling in his chest.
Shishido huffs, cracking open his other eye and taking in Ohtori's expression. He moves slowly, reaching up to settle one hand on Ohtori's shoulder, the other making flighty, aborted motions near Choutarou's jaw.
Choutarou leans a little closer, catches at the arm near his shoulder, wrapping long fingers around a bony wrist. Like lightning, Shishido brings his free hand up, planting it on Choutarou's face and shoving him backwards. The motion sends Choutarou tipping backwards onto the couch, the game controller in his lap tumbling to the floor with a clatter.
Shishido beams triumphantly, snatching up his own controller and restarting the match. Choutarou watches Shishido's character spam the same kick move from his side, lazily reaching down and feeling across the floor for his wayward controller. He catches it with his finger tips, finally hooking the wire and reeling it in. He presses a few buttons, watches his character perform a few combos, and adds another win to his belt.
"Maybe you should just get better at Street Fighter, Shishido-san," Ohtori suggests, flat and sarcastic. Shishido takes one long look at the controller in his hand, before lunging at Ohtori.
Screw Street Fighter, anyway.