Chapter Text
Dice wished he could just forget about the whole thing. Maybe he could have, if Ramuda hadn’t shown him those stupid photos. But as it was, Gentaro stayed on his mind. His fingers brushed over his lips, as if there was still some small part of the author he could find there. He wondered what it was like, kissing him. And then…
Ugh, this whole thing was so embarrassing. That was why his cheeks flushed at the memory, right?
“Have you ever been blackout drunk and hooked up with someone totally not your type?”
Dice had no idea if asking a random patron at the casino bar was really going to give him a good answer, but he had already chickened out of spilling to Ramuda. Worst case scenario, he has to avoid this place for a week or so until both parties have forgotten each other.
“Heh, been there, buddy. How ugly was she?”
“Well… I wouldn’t say that, I guess. Just… a guy.”
“Hm. Well, can’t say I’ve ever done that, then. Not even close.” He glanced sideways at Dice, smirking. “But not ugly, though?”
“I mean, I think he’s, like, probably attractive? I dunno, man.”
“I’m just playin’ with you, son. I’m sure you’re not like that.”
“...Right.”
Awkward silence bloomed in the space between them. The din of the casino was nearly as deafening, with the pinging of slot machines and uproar of its patrons.
“So what should I do?” Dice couldn’t believe he was asking for relationship advice from a stranger, but he could probably do worse.
“Why’s it you gotta do anything at all? One night don’t hafta mean nothin’ ‘less you want it to.”
Dice swirled his cheap beer, watching a few bubbles chase each other around the perimeter of the glass. “The guy was actually my best friend. I dunno if he remembers any of it, though. I don’t, but… yeah. I dunno.”
“Ah.” The stranger sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “Maybe just try to forget about it. Lots’a girls out here tonight, sure it’d be easy for a young guy like you to find one.”
“I guess. Thanks anyway, man.”
Usually Dice followed whatever path he felt drawn to and bet it all with confidence, and even when his luck didn’t pan out for a few bets, he just kept trusting his intuition again and again and again. He was still alive, so it must be some sort of winning strategy. But he couldn’t get a clear signal out for this.
Like, he seriously thought he was straight. He still thought that. Sort of. But when he woke up that morning in Gentaro’s bed, or saw those pictures of them at the bar, he didn’t feel disgust. Embarrassment? Sure. Anxiety? Absolutely. Yet, he couldn’t help but to wonder what it was like, too. Was that normal?
“OMG Dice, so nice of you to visit!!!”
“Hey.” The gambler couldn’t believe he was putting himself through this again. God, please make this as painless as possible. “Could I maybe talk to you again?”
“Aw, do you need money again already? I could arrange some chores for you to do…”
“Nah, I don’t need cash this time. Just want some… advice.” He didn’t think it would help, but he tacked on, “Just promise not to torture me this time?”
Ramuda giggled. “If I wanted to torture you, I’d do wayyyyy more than just talk! Sure, come on in~”
“Thanks, man.”
“Just let me finish cleaning up for the day and I’ll be right with you!”
Dice took a seat on the left side of the designer’s garish bubblegum-pink couch and started picking at the fabric on the armrest where it was just beginning to pill. When they met at the studio for Fling Posse strategy meetings, Gentaro always perched to his right, while their brave leader took the adjacent chair. Even from the very beginning, the two of them had been sharing space. It had only been five days now since he’d last seen his friend, but he already missed him, despite the awkwardness.
When Dice felt the couch cushions shift to accommodate the addition of another body, he was almost surprised to see Ramuda’s smiling face—he’d half expected Gentaro to appear on command.
“So what can I help ya with?”
Now that he was here, he didn’t even know where to start. “When you’re, like, totally wasted, have you ever… um…”
“Dice…” Ramuda leaned forward towards him, one eyebrow arched. “Do I already know what this is about?”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
The designer kicked his legs in excitement, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “So something really did happen between you two? Finally~~~~~!”
“No, like, I still don’t really know ‘cause I don’t-” Dice stopped cold when he finally processed Ramuda’s last comment, then whipped around to face him, incredulous. “What the fuck is that s’posed to mean?!”
“Arentcha, like, together now?”
“Not even close.”
Ramuda hid behind his hands in an exaggerated performance of embarrassment. “Oopsie! Forget that then.”
“Dude.”
The designer sighed petulantly, popping his lollipop from his mouth. “I just thought you’d make a cute couple. Y’know, opposites attract and all that!”
“...I’m not even gonna respond to that.”
“No pressure, just sayin’ it could be fun!”
Dice just shook his head. He didn’t have time to deal with this right now. “What I was trying to say was I that I still have no fuckin’ clue what happened that night. No memory.”
“But…”
“...But, well, let’s say I don’t think Gentaro really slept on the couch.”
“Hmm.” Ramuda looked especially pleased with this development, his lips stretched into a catlike grin. “But he said he did?”
“My guess is Gen doesn’t remember much either, but he’s thinkin’ the same as me and just wanted to cover it up.”
“Sounds like our Gentaro.”
“But dude, when I woke up in that bed,” the gambler lowered his voice to a whisper, as if the empty studio wasn’t private enough for this salacious detail, “I was, like, naked. Fully. And Gentaro’s clothes were all over the floor, too.”
This, of course, sent Ramuda into a fit of raucous laughter. There was nothing for Dice to do but put his head in his hands until he was finished, hoping the flush in his cheeks would diminish by then, too. It wouldn’t.
“Dice!!” the designer wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “You came here just to tell me that?”
“Let me finish, man! I’m trying to get advice here.”
“Sorry, sorry!”
The gambler shifted nervously in his seat. “Well, so… I’ve only ever been with girls. Just a straight dude, right? But, like, I dunno, what if… I’m not?”
“If you’re asking what would change… nothing at all! I’ll always love ya, Dice! <3” Ramuda attacked Dice with a hug, wrapping his arms around his waist and giving a tight squeeze.
Dice couldn’t help but to smile and reciprocate the embrace. “Not what I meant, but thanks anyway, man.”
“Anytime, teehee!”
“No, but like, how would I know? How the fuck does it work?”
“Maybe you aren’t gonna like my advice,” the designer warned as he extricated himself from Dice’s arms. “It’s kinda the same as with any relationship. You just gotta try. With Gentaro, with someone else—do what feels right.”
“And what if I’m wrong?”
Ramuda smiled sympathetically. “Then it might get uncomfy. You might hurt some feelings, even your own. But,” he grabbed Dice’s hand with both of his, “this is all in the name of self-discovery! Life’s a whole lot more fun when you can be yourself, right?”
Maybe Ramuda was right. It was another gamble, wasn’t it? Dice left home to live life his own way, not to keep worrying about what others thought of him. The idea of hurting–or worse, losing–Gentaro scared him shitless, but the risk was what always made the gamble exciting. It made him feel alive.
Ramuda was preoccupied and fiddling with his cellphone the next time he spoke. “I think you just gotta see Gentaro again before you overthink it too much, ‘kayyyyy?”
“What, like show up at his apartment out of the blue?”
“As if that’s not normal for you!” The designer giggled, sending off a text with a ping. “I’m sure he’d be nice and at least buy you food!”
“Sure, I guess.”
“You just sit tight here, and I’ll be right back!!”
Dice closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch, thankful that Ramuda was at least trying to help him this time. He was probably right, that if he went to Gentaro’s tonight, they’d probably fall back into their normal banter within the hour. Gentaro liked normal.
But what did he want?
He didn’t think he thought that much about the author before, but in the past few days, Dice’s mind had wandered in his direction at nearly every empty moment. Roaming the streets of Shibuya, he thought of Gentaro’s piercing eyes, his teasing mouth, and wondered how it felt to have both on him, only him, for that night. At the casino, he pictured Gentaro’s slender hands sliding up his shirt, fingertips ghosting over his collarbones and nails lightly raking over his ribs. Just now, at Ramuda’s studio, he imagined Gentaro’s voice calling out to him, breathless.
“Ah, Dice.”
Not like that. The gambler’s eyes shot open, plunging him from the warmth of his daydreams back into ice-cold reality, only to find Gentaro, in the flesh, standing over him. They locked eyes for just a single moment before Dice looked away, but his stomach did a somersault all the same.
“Where the hell did you come from?”
“You would not believe it! I had been making my way home from the cafe, and only nearly escaped a violent robbery. Luckily, Ramuda’s studio was unlocked, or you may not have ever borrowed money from me again.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “Shit, really? You alright, dude?”
“Ah, well, I only had 2,000 yen on me as it was. I suppose you go through at least that much just on-”
“No, like, they didn’t hurt you, right?” Dice interrupted, brow creased with concern as he eyed his friend for injuries. He rose from his seat on the couch, pushing his shirtsleeves up his forearms with a grim look. “I’ll beat those punks up…”
Before the gambler could gain any momentum, the author took hold of his wrist. “‘Twas only a lie, Daisu.” Gentaro admitted with an amused smile. “Although I do appreciate your concern. I will be sure to call upon my brave knight should such an event come to pass in the future.”
Dice could only grumble irritably as he settled back into his seat, pulling his sleeves back to their original position.
“I see you have decided to be punctual today.” The author continued, gliding over to the right side of the couch to take his usual seat.
“Fer what?”
“...For our meeting? That our dear leader called us to this very evening?”
“He did?”
Just then, Gentaro’s phone buzzed with a text notification. “Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Dice’s face was screwed up in silent confusion, so he clarified, “I just received a text from Ramuda.”
“Tsk. Why didn’tcha just say that?”
Gentaro cleared his throat, ignoring the gambler’s obtuse remark. “‘Thanks for coming in on such short notice!! Something came up, so I’m actually gonna be late. Super-duper sorry! ☆’ Or so he says.”
Dice began mumbling to himself, “Ramuda’s gonna be late for a meeting he didn’t tell me about…” but his eyes narrowed when he realized what was really going on. That bastard! He said no torture today!
“My, my, Daisu. Torture? I had not realized that spending time with me was so painful to you. Truly, my delicate feelings have been hurt,” the author sniffed.
“Oh. Did I say that out loud?”
“Would you believe it if I said I read your mind?”
“Naw.” He grimaced, despite himself. “Cuz then you woulda known I wasn’t thinkin’ bout you then. Well, not really…”
“What exactly, then?”
Dice huffed out a breath. “Somethin’ stupid, just forget about it.”
The author only hummed in response, seeming to accept this answer for now, and the two fell into silence. Gentaro had a novel, and Dice was cheap to entertain. There was always a loose thread on his jeans to fuss with, dirt under his nails to pick at, frivolous bets to be made—and he regularly gave each of these activities his all.
Through the quiet, he couldn’t help but to hear Gentaro turning the pages of his novel, his breath steadily flowing in and out. It was a soothing backdrop for his ruminations.
Embarrassingly, amidst the silence, the gambler’s stomach growled.
“...You know, if the teacher has not arrived within fifteen minutes of the start of class, we are free to leave.”
“Teacher? The hell has Ramuda ever taught you?”
The author smiled, shaking his head. “Apologies, that was merely a joke from my university days. What I mean to say is that I do not believe that our dear leader is returning this evening. I imagine that he has found other,” Gentaro looked sideways at Dice, one sly eyebrow raised, “activities more engaging than our meeting.”
“You’re sayin’ you’re just gonna head out?”
“Won’t you be leaving as well?”
Dice was bored out of his mind, but he didn’t think he could hang out with this guy with all this shit hanging over him. Would he go crazy? Or just start spilling the beans? It was risky. Plus, he was hoping to sleep at Ramuda’s for a change instead of braving Shibuya’s park benches for a fifth consecutive night.
“I dunno, Ramuda’s kinda scary when he’s mad…”
The author stood, smoothing the creases from his hakama, expression unreadable as ever. “I’m only looking out for my health, of course. I haven’t yet had dinner, and inspiration cannot strike a starved mind.”
Dice hesitated at the implication of food.
“Unless you’re not hungry?”
Who the hell was he kidding? Not even a sexually tense friendship could get between Dice and an actual hot meal.
“Naw, it’ll be fine if I just apologize to him real good later!” He hopped up and bounded towards the entryway to retrieve his shoes and coat. “So where do you wanna eat?”