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With the stream on once again, the chat was different than usual. It was mostly filled with messages about a girl's voice they'd heard in the background of his last stream and Megumi calling her "sweetheart." 

Yet Megumi was the same as always, his eyes tracking the screen with a clinical, detached precision while giving short commentaries here and there.

His focus was absolute until he felt the heat of the PC tower, making the room a bit too warm. Without looking away from the monitor, Megumi reached up to tug his hoodie sleeves back, the fabric bunching at his elbows.

He didn't even realize it at first. But as he repositioned his hand on the mouse, the camera caught a floral scrunchie resting snugly against his pale wrist, a stark contrast to his all-dark clothing.

The chat, which had finally been discussing game stats instead of the girl's voice, suddenly hit a wall again.

therighteye: “IS THAT A SCRUNCHIE??”

Thelefteye: “Megumi…the elephant in the room wants to be addressed.”

Megumi glanced at his second monitor, his brow furrowing as he tried to keep up with both the game and the chat. "Explain what? The stats are fine, I’m-" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes finally landing on the frantic messages about his wrist.

He froze. He slowly lifted his hand, staring at the scrunchie he’d slid on earlier so it wouldn't get misplaced while he was cleaning.

A donation blared through his headset: “Megumi, didn’t know you liked tying up your sea urchin hair. Or is that a souvenir from a girlfriend?”

The stutter was instant. His character took a massive hit, the screen flashing a warning red. Megumi let out a sharp, irritated huff, his face darkening. He hated being the center of a spectacle, especially one he couldn’t control. He leaned closer to the screen, trying to recover, but his ears were already turning a traitorous, deep shade of pink.

You were sitting on a chair just beside his, tucked away in the camera's blind spot as you watched him play. You could see the tension in his jaw and the way his pulse jumped in his neck, vibrating with the effort of trying to act like thousands of people weren't currently losing their minds over a piece of hair elastic.

A bit of mischief flared up in your chest. You wanted to see just how long he could keep that professional mask on.

Slowly, you reached up.

Your hand entered the frame. You didn't go for his hand,that would be too easy. Instead, you hooked your pinky around his, giving it a tiny, playful tug that sent a visible jolt through his arm.

Megumi’s fingers went still on the keys.

The game continued, his character walked straight into a wall and stayed there, getting shot at by enemies. The chat went into a total meltdown, messages flying so fast they were unreadable.

theleftleg: “IS THAT HER???”

therightleg: “GUMI’S SOUL JUST LEFT HIS BODY.”

thehead: “THE PINKY HOLD. I’M SOBBING.”

His gaze dropped immediately to you, his dark lashes fluttering as he tried to process the sudden, warm weight of your finger against his. He quickly raised his free hand, pressing his palm against his mouth to hide the helpless curve of his lips, but he couldn't hide the way his eyes softened. They were drowning in a look that was far too intimate for the public eye.

Realizing the secret was out, he didn't bother with an explanation. He just looked at the webcam, calmly lifted the hand you were holding, your pinky still hooked around his and pressed a firm, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

He gave the camera a single, sharp nod, a silent ‘yeah, she’s mine’, and the stream ended.

The room fell into a comfortable, humming silence.

"You're a distraction," he murmured, his voice low and soft now that the streamer persona was gone. He didn't let go of your hand. Instead, he pulled back his chair, reaching down to haul you up into his lap. "Now I have to deal with them tomorrow."

"You could have just tucked the scrunchie in your pocket," you teased, settling against his chest.

Megumi grunted, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around your waist. "Too much work. Besides," he muttered against your skin, "I don't mind them knowing you're mine.

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