loser’s punishment
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦢˚. ᵎᵎ
the basement had always felt like a constant.
even now, when everything else had shifted in ways neither of you could have predicted a few years ago, this room stayed mostly the same. the couch still dipped in the middle where everyone always sat. the shelves were still packed with old games, rulebooks, things no one had touched in years but never threw out. the ceiling felt lower now, or maybe you were both just taller.
it should have been comforting.
it was, mostly.
just not in the way it used to be.
you sat cross-legged on the floor, cards scattered in a loose, uneven circle between you and mike. the tv played quietly in the background, something neither of you were paying attention to, but it filled the space enough that the silence didn’t feel complete.
mike bent one of the cards without realizing it, thumb pressing along the edge.
you watched it happen.
“you’re ruining them,” you said.
he glanced down like the deck had appeared there on its own. “i’m not ruining them.”
“that one’s already gone.”
he tried to flatten it against his knee, careful, like that might fix it. it didn’t. “it’s fine.”
“it’s not fine,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “have some respect.”
“for the cards?”
“yes.”
he huffed a quiet laugh, but it didn’t last long. “you’re only saying that because you’re losing.”
“i’m not losing,” you shot back, even as you looked down at the mess in front of you. “…this is strategic.”
“you’ve said that every round.”
“because it’s been true every round.”
“has it?”
you hesitated, eyes flicking between the cards again.
“…it was true earlier.”
that earned you a small, crooked smile, the kind he didn’t seem to notice he was doing.
he set another card down.
you leaned in to look.
and immediately felt your stomach drop.
“…no,” you said under your breath.
he didn’t celebrate. didn’t even move right away.
“yeah,” he said, quieter than expected.
you scanned the cards again anyway, like there might be some mistake hiding in plain sight. “wait. no. hold on. that doesn’t-”
“it does.”
“it doesn’t,” you insisted, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it now. “you did something.”
he frowned. “i didn’t do anything.”
“this is suspicious.”
“that’s not an argument.”
“it should be.”
he almost laughed again, but it caught somewhere halfway, turning into something softer. more distracted.
you leaned back with a groan, pressing your head into the couch cushion behind you. “this is so unfair.”
“you made the rule.”
right.
the rule.
it had seemed like a good idea at the time. something to make it feel less like you were just replaying the same night you’d had a hundred times before.
loser gets punished.
winner decides.
you pushed yourself upright again, brushing your hands over your knees like that might reset something. “fine. whatever. you win.”
he didn’t respond immediately.
when you looked up, he was already watching you. not in a teasing way. not like he’d just beaten you.
like he was waiting.
it made your chest feel tight.
“so,” you said, trying to sound normal and not quite managing it, “what’s the punishment?”
his fingers tapped once against his leg, then stopped.
“you can’t make it weird,” he said.
you blinked. “that’s already not a great start.”
“i’m serious.”
“why would you say that unless it’s weird?”
he exhaled, dragging a hand briefly through his hair before letting it fall again. “just… don’t.”
“mike.”
“just listen, okay?”
the shift in his voice made you stop.
you nodded, slower this time. “okay.”
he didn’t speak right away.
his gaze dropped to the floor, then back up, then away again. like he was trying to land on the right version of this and couldn’t quite get there.
for a second, you thought he might change his mind.
then he said it, quick enough that it almost tripped over itself.
“you have to kiss me.”
the room didn’t actually go quiet.
the tv was still on. the light still buzzed faintly overhead. but it felt like everything narrowed anyway.
you stared at him.
“what?”
his face had already gone red. “you heard me.”
“i just..” you let out a small, disbelieving breath. “that’s your punishment?”
“yeah.”
“that’s not even a punishment.”
“i know.”
“that’s just… a thing.”
“yeah,” he said again, softer.
you looked away for a second, pressing your lips together, then back at him. “that’s so weird.”
“i told you not to make it weird.”
“it is weird,” you said, a little sharper now, mostly because your heart had started beating too fast. “you made it weird.”
he didn’t argue that. just watched you for a second, then looked down again.
“why?” you asked.
it came out quieter than you meant it to. he froze.
“i don’t know,” he said at first. you gave him a look. he sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. “okay, that’s not true.”
so you waited.
he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking up to yours before darting away again. “i’ve thought about it.”
your breath caught a little. “about… this?”
he nodded once. “not like as a punishment. just… before.”
the way he said it made something settle low in your chest. you looked down at your hands, turning your sleeve between your fingers. “and this was your plan? trap me in a game?”
“it wasn’t a plan,” he said quickly. “you said the rule and i just… didn’t not take the chance.”
you let out a quiet, nervous laugh at that, shaking your head. “that’s terrible.”
“i know.”
“that’s your defense?”
“it’s not a good one.”
despite everything, you smiled a little.
it didn’t last long.
“if you don’t want to, we can forget it,” he added, more serious now. “it doesn’t have to count.”
you shook your head, still looking at your hands. “it’s not that i don’t want to.”
he went very still.
you could feel it without even looking.
“i just…” you exhaled slowly. “you can’t expect me to act normal about it.”
“i’m not expecting normal.”
“good.”
you finally looked back up at him. “because this is not normal.”
“yeah,” he said quietly.
for a second, neither of you moved.
then, softer, “are we doing this?”
he hesitated, then nodded. “only if you want to.”
you nodded too.
then immediately second-guessed it, your shoulders tensing as a small, awkward laugh slipped out. “okay. wait. hold on.”
he didn’t move. just watched you, like he was giving you as much time as you needed.
which somehow made it worse.
“this is so dumb,” you muttered.
“it is,” he agreed.
you took a breath.
then another.
“okay,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “just… don’t make it a whole thing.”
“i won’t.”
you leaned forward.
not gracefully.
your knee knocked into his shin, and both of you flinched.
“sorry,” you said quickly.
“no, it’s fine, i just-”
you both stopped at the same time, the overlap making it worse instead of better.
you let out a small, helpless laugh. “we’re really bad at this.”
“yeah,” he said, almost smiling now, nerves still obvious in the way his hands hovered like he didn’t know where to put them.
“just-” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “just do it before i back out.”
he nodded once. you leaned in again, slower this time. he met you halfway.
for a second, you both paused, slightly off, like you’d misjudged the distance. you adjusted, a small shift forward, your breath catching when your noses almost brushed.
and then it happened.
it wasn’t smooth.
it wasn’t confident.
it was soft and uncertain, more like testing something than committing to it. your lips pressed together for a second, maybe two, before instinct kicked in and you both pulled back a little too fast.
you stayed close, though. close enough that you could still feel the warmth of it.
his eyes were already open, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what that meant now.
you were probably doing the same thing.
“…okay,” you said, a little breathless.
“okay,” he echoed.
neither of you moved away. and that felt bigger than the kiss itself.
