A/N: Drabble request for anon. “I choose you”, “and if I don’t?” and “we could have had it all”. I was going to go down the sad story route but then I had another idea and, anon, I hope you don’t hate this!! Please message me if you do and I will do a rewrite, at no extra cost except that of your love.
“I choose you… PIKACHU!!!” Juice yelled, smashing the buttons on his controller. Every week, you and Juice would pick a video game to play together. Sometimes you would play as a team, and sometimes, like tonight, the competition was pure madness. “An electric Pokemon? Really? Do you even know your shit, Ortiz?” you snarked, prepared for an easy win. “Well you picked a game for 12 year olds.” You looked at him, complete offence written across your face. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” Juice’s grin was devilish, and he threw a quick glance at you from the corner of his eye. He always knew the right buttons to push. “Pokemon is classic, and Pokemon Stadium is where I’m gonna hand your perfect ass to you.” The both of you would often flirt and smack talk each other like this, especially when tensions were high. “Wanna bet?” “Oh, you know damn well I do.” Juice paused the game before the battle began. He turned to you on the couch, considering his options. “If you win… We play Pokemon Stadium for a month and I don’t get to complain.” “And if I don’t?” You asked, knowing full-well that you had this bet in the bag. “You and I go on a date.” “Hmm…” You rolled your eyes. The thought had crossed your mind a few times, but you never thought the option was there. “You’re on.” The both of you settled back in to the couch, readying yourselves for the battle. The music played and the battle began. Just as Juice went to play his first move, you commanded your Bulbasaur to perform the razor leaf attack. Juice’s Pikachu was almost obliterated in one move. “Better brush up on your Pokemon stats, Ortiz.” you quipped. You had considered letting him win, but your competitive side was greater than your compassionate one when it came to gaming. After a half-arsed thunderbolt, which hardly made a dent in your Pokemon’s health, you finished the Pikachu off. Raising your controller over your head, you did a victory lap of the coffee table, chanting “I win!” over and over while Juice tried to look pissed, failing miserably. You sat back down next to him and waited for him to admit defeat. “Alright, that was probably the dumbest bet I’ve ever made. You geek.” “Sore loser!” You said, hitting him with a cushion. “The real loser here, my friend, is you. You’re missing out on aaaaall this.” He gestured to himself. You laughed as Juice began to sing “we could have had it aaaaaaaaaaaall, rolling in the deeeeeeeeeeep!” “Wow, Adele, I didn’t know you were a Puerto Rican man!” You got up from the couch, grabbing your phone. I was 11pm. “I should head home, getting late.” Juice nodded and walked you to the door. “Same time next week?” he asked. “I dunno, I was thinking you could pick me up for that date tomorrow night. Around 7?” Juice looked shocked at first, but smiled and nodded. ”Looks like we both win.” you said, leaving him with one last smile. _______________________________________________________________________