Playing the Long Game

Episode 4: SMG4 Has the Gay Dream

(Author's note: The following chapter of "Playing the Long Game" was conceptualized and drafted several weeks before "SMG4 & SMG3 Are Forced to Hold Hands". We promise.)

"YOU DICK!" SMG3 yells before jumping for SMG4's throat. He yelps and struggles underneath him for a moment, before a well-placed knee to the gut gets him to stumble long enough for him to flip SMG3 onto his back with an incredibly satisfying thud. He can even hear the breath getting knocked out of him.

"Heh." SMG4 pants as he looms over SMG3 with... with a...

... Wait. Didn't he do this already?

SMG4's throat feels dry. He looks down at SMG3's sprawled-out form beneath him. It's exactly how he remembers it... maybe. Was SMG3 that red before? He tries to think back to what this scene looked like before, but... he can't really find himself able to remember anything right now.

SMG3 shifts in place before lifting his head to make eye contact. His face is flushed, glistening with a thin layer of sweat. "Alright, hotshot. You got me. Now what are you going to do with me?"

He gulps. "...U-Uh..." SMG4 trails off as he realizes that, for once, he doesn't have a snappy comeback. His eyes wander away from SMG3's face, absentmindedly trailing down towards his body. SMG3's purple sleeves are rolled up to his hairy forearms, and one of his overall straps had come loose in the shuffle, hanging down past his shoulder. His breath is heavy– his chest heaves up and down with each inhale and exhale.

"Oi. My eyes are up here."

Oh god. SMG4 tries to half-stutter out an apology, but finds that the words turn to mush in his mouth. His gaze locks with SMG3's, and for a moment he can see himself trapped in SMG3's eyes, red-faced and entirely out of his depth.

Come on, say something, SMG4 pleads with himself. You're so good at talking. Say anything at all.

"Y-You're... you... are..."

SMG3 rolls his eyes. "Wowww. And here I thought you were the one who was good at improvising." He snags SMG4 by the front of his overalls, yanking him down to his level. Their foreheads are touching. Their noses are touching.

"You're the one who wants to make this believable." SMG3 breathes out. SMG4 shivers. When did he get so smooth? "Are you really gonna stand there and do nothing?"

After what feels like an eternity of just staring, SMG4's hands find SMG3's chin, pulling him just a bit closer andfinallyclosingthedistancebetween--

SMG4 feels like he's choking when he wakes. His heart is fucking pounding in his chest- like, "slamming four cans of Monster back-to-back to hit a video deadline" pounding. He didn't even think he could get this lightheaded without a serious amount of sleep deprivation.

...Speaking of sleep, how long has he been out for?

He turns over to check the alarm clock. It's eight in the morning.

SMG4 blinks hard as the world blurs back into focus around him. He feels around the nightstand for his phone on instinct– nope, still confiscated. He resigns himself to settling back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. As his head hits the pillow again, there's only one thing on SMG4's mind.

...Oh my GOD. WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?!

What was that anime bullshit he and SMG3 were doing? Scratch that– what was SMG3 doing in GENERAL?! What's with the blushing, and... and the weird flirty stuff and– any of that?! Where did any of that come from?! Seriously, you fake date a guy for Twitter clout for three days...