Arcade date

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!”

The pixilated orange devil crossed the chequered finish line first, with its purple counterpart just moments behind it. Zepp released the steering wheel of the arcade game, and slumped back into the seat. His competitor, a dark haired bun with a hoodie masking most of his form, leaned over the shoulder of the chair, a smug smirk across his face. 

“Next rounds on you mate,” the greed bun remarked, looking down upon him. “Ya know the rules of this.”

“C'mon man, at least make it a best of three.”

“That’s not what we agreed on, and remember, you're the one who set that rule in the first place. What's wrong, did I bruise that ego of yours?”

“No!” Zepp turned away, refusing to look in the direction of his partner. As much as he tried to disguise it, yes, his ego did take a bit of a hit. The pride bun sighed, pulling himself up and away from the machine. 

“Alright, alright, what ya want,” he asked, purely out of habit, rummaging through his pockets for carats. “I don't even understand why ya have me payin, c'mon Flint, ya own the place.”

“Hey, I don't get the ingredients for free, you know? Plus you already got a VIP discount here, and you know how much I hate giving that out.”

“Yeah, yeah…” It was true, he paid for everything here for a fraction of the normal price. Whether it was due to his relationship with Flint, the live entertainment he provided on busy nights, or a combination of the two, the greed bun would never tell, but Zepp knew Flint would rarely ever give up an opportunity to gain more cash, or luxuries. Collecting that which he found pleasure in having was just in his nature. Hence, collecting every arcade game available in Burrowgatory and setting up an arcade bar so he could afford to buy more. 

He walked over to the counter, ordering two cocktails. Once prepared, he brought the drinks back to their private booth. Flint was already waiting, having taken off his red hoodie, leaving it on the ground beside the table, a plain black t-shirt all he had underneath. He plonked Flint's glass in front of him, threw himself down onto the soft couch cushions, opposite him, swung his feet up onto the table, glass in hand, and took a drink from his mojito. 

“Hey man, I wanted a martini, not a margarita! Think ya need your ears checked!” Flint teased, sliding himself around the curved chair, close enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, and started running the hand through the dark fur on the back of Zepp’s ear. In the other, he swirled the cocktail glass around, before taking a sip, and placing it back on the table. 

“Haha, very funny… like it was the seventeen other times. I know ya hate em…” The purple horned bun rolled his eyes. Despite how hard he tried not to seem amused by his partner's antics, he couldn't help but lean into the greed buns shoulder, placing one hand onto the other's thigh. 

“Ah, the issue doesn't seem to be with this one, anyway.” He commented, after some time. He stopped petting his right ear. “Guess I need to check if it's in the other one.”

He took a chug out of  his glass, placed it onto the steel topped table, and started doing the same to his left ear. Zepp turned his head slightly, to give him better access to it, a big grin on his face, clearly adoring the pampering and attention he was getting. 

After a few minutes, he once again stopped, wrapping both arms around his companion, and whispered softly into his ear, “Guess I was wrong, nothing seems to be off about your hearing. It's just that memory of yours that's off.” He leaned back away, raising his voice to a normal speaking level, a smirk across his face. “Too much space up there's being taken up by that overinflated ego of yours, no space for anything else.”

“OI!” Zepp sat back up properly, and smacked a hand to the back of Flint's head, before turning away, glass in hand. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that he'd feel it. 

“Haha, no need to get so worked up over it man, c'mon.” He pushed himself away a bit, giving his agitated partner a bit of space, and finished off the cocktail. “Hey, what can I do to make it up to you, man. Name your price. Within reason, obviously.”

The pride bun pondered for a moment before smiling. “Hmm, how about, I get to adopt another sixteen corvats!” A cheeky, playful tone to his voice. “Yeah you think you're hilarious, don't ya man.”

“Well that's one of the reasons ya like me, eint it? That and my good looks, obviously.”

Flint rolled his eyes, giving a slight chuckle. “Yeah yeah, totally,” in a sarcastic manner. “Well that's a bit too much, but I've a more doable suggestion for ya.” he moved back around the curved couch, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder once again. “To make up for it, I give you however many kisses you please, after our next round. Your choice this time round, isn't it?”

“Oh fuck yeah, I'm in with that. Guitar demon then, obviously.”

“Ah come on, you've got a major advantage on that. I mean, isn't that your damn job?”

“And?” A huge smirk across his face. “Last time I checked, that was never a factor.”

“Alright, alright.”

Zepp downed what remained in his glass, and the two got up to go back out to the arcade for their routine competition.