Thank you for coming, Kiyoomi. You look very handsome.
[Which is true. Of course, Sakusa could have shown up in a burlap sack and still look stunning, but there's something to be said about his silhouette and the way the tie and belt complete the look for him. They're bound to turn some heads, if Sakusa hasn't done that already. Wakatoshi feels warm and tight all over, and for the brief moment Sakusa's lips meet his cheek, he considers dragging them both back to his apartment.
But they're out here now, and they've put forth all this effort thus far, they may as well see it out to the end.
He blinks as Sakusa takes the flowers and holds them awkwardly.]
You can throw them away if you do not want them. I would not be offended.
[It's true. He was simply following yet another unwritten rule stating to present a classic gift that lined up well with something he appreciated: his own for gardening and plants; he saw it as no different than Tendou buying someone a box of chocolates. Alas. It's a lesson learned -- as many similarities as they share, there will always be something that they won't see eye to eye on. He makes a mental note to avoid flowers at all costs from now on.
Undeterred by the slip-up with the flowers and unbothered by the stares others give them as they link up arms, he leads them to the restaurant. It's located in one of the swankier parts of Ginza, already a ritzy district of Tokyo. During his search, Wakatoshi soon learned the more exclusive a restaurant was, the less likely it was to be crowded and filthy, two traits he wanted to avoid at all costs. That the press (legitimate or not) was not going to be hounding the two athletes or sneaking candid photographs of them was a bonus.
Once their coats are checked in by some apple-cheeked young man that lets his gaze linger on Sakusa for longer than Wakatoshi deems necessary and they're seated, Wakatoshi's finally able to relax. A little. His thoughts keep focusing on the man sitting across from him, even when they're presented with the menus.]
A friend helped me secure the reservations. It wasn't too difficult.
[His expression softens, voice lowering to match--]
Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else, if you want...
no subject
[Which is true. Of course, Sakusa could have shown up in a burlap sack and still look stunning, but there's something to be said about his silhouette and the way the tie and belt complete the look for him. They're bound to turn some heads, if Sakusa hasn't done that already. Wakatoshi feels warm and tight all over, and for the brief moment Sakusa's lips meet his cheek, he considers dragging them both back to his apartment.
But they're out here now, and they've put forth all this effort thus far, they may as well see it out to the end.
He blinks as Sakusa takes the flowers and holds them awkwardly.]
You can throw them away if you do not want them. I would not be offended.
[It's true. He was simply following yet another unwritten rule stating to present a classic gift that lined up well with something he appreciated: his own for gardening and plants; he saw it as no different than Tendou buying someone a box of chocolates. Alas. It's a lesson learned -- as many similarities as they share, there will always be something that they won't see eye to eye on. He makes a mental note to avoid flowers at all costs from now on.
Undeterred by the slip-up with the flowers and unbothered by the stares others give them as they link up arms, he leads them to the restaurant. It's located in one of the swankier parts of Ginza, already a ritzy district of Tokyo. During his search, Wakatoshi soon learned the more exclusive a restaurant was, the less likely it was to be crowded and filthy, two traits he wanted to avoid at all costs. That the press (legitimate or not) was not going to be hounding the two athletes or sneaking candid photographs of them was a bonus.
Once their coats are checked in by some apple-cheeked young man that lets his gaze linger on Sakusa for longer than Wakatoshi deems necessary and they're seated, Wakatoshi's finally able to relax. A little. His thoughts keep focusing on the man sitting across from him, even when they're presented with the menus.]
A friend helped me secure the reservations. It wasn't too difficult.
[His expression softens, voice lowering to match--]
Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else, if you want...