Chapter Text
“My dearest Dice, you must see what I’ve found,” Gentaro muses, looking at Dice from his spot at the kotatsu. Dice is sprawled on Gentaro’s couch, face scrunched up as he gets nothing from yet another gacha spin.
“What’d’cha find?”
To be truthful, Gentaro didn’t actually find anything new. He knows enough about youth culture to know what happens once men rise to the status of celebrities or idols, as they seem to have done. So once people started recognizing them in public, he looked for Fling Posse fan pages on social media; it’s important to know how you are perceived, after all. What if they had some nuanced critique of his lyrics that could improve his future songwriting endeavours?
They didn’t, of course. But he did find out some other things.
For one, he’s much less subtle than he thought he was. He never thought himself to be particularly subtle, but he did think he was good at covering up his flirtations with a sly “ah, it was just a story” or “I was lying, of course.” Dice certainly accused him of bullying him often, so he thought he was maybe too good at hiding his true feelings. But despite Gentaro being, in his opinion, more reserved in public, fans have apparently picked up on it. A lot.
Now, he knows about shipping culture--he’s an author, after all--and knows that it would find them regardless of whether or not any of them were same-sex-inclined. But images of Dice and him dominate the shipping sphere across not only Fling Posse but also the rest of the popular Division Rap Battle teams.
There are three circles of thought among Fling Posse observers. The first: fangirls are being fangirls and overreacting. The second: Dice and Gentaro are actively and intentionally queerbaiting fans. Gentaro finds this particularly funny because, not only are they not doing that, but he’s not convinced Dice has the intellect to even plan to do that. The third: Gentaro is legitimately, honest-to-god, deeply in love with Dice and Dice has no idea.
Ah, what a start it was to read that! He couldn’t say it better himself, which is a problem, because it is himself. They even say they pity him. Maybe so, but this is the happiest he’s been in years; having friends is worth the unrequited love.
He will pretend he didn’t think that.
“You must see for yourself. You simply will not believe it if you do not see it with your own eyes.”
Even though the public rarely sees Gentaro’s tricks and stories (him caressing Dice’s shoulder as though he were his mistress, him pulling Dice’s hand to his lips as though he were a prince’s suitor), they still have their suspicions. Apparently, according to them, he looks at Dice too much. Like, a lot. Who can blame him? Aside from his beauty (which the creators most definitely bestowed upon the wrong person), he’s also the most interesting person in any room. He lives life to the fullest in such a careless, ridiculous way that Gentaro didn’t know was possible. Who wouldn’t be drawn to him? He doesn’t know how everyone isn’t staring at him.
Gentaro watches as Dice shambles over to him. He plops on the ground next to him, shimmying underneath the futon. He blinks. “Why are you showing me gay porn?”
“It’s us.”
Dice’s eyes widen. He leans in, squinting at the picture, “Wha--you’re kidding?”
“I am not. Look at the comments,” he points.
“‘Dice-kun is so sexy here…’ ‘I love how you drew Gentaro’s hair falling over his eyes…’ What the hell?!”
Gentaro loves to see him flustered. “Scroll, there’s more.”
He does, first slow and studious before going faster as he realizes the sheer volume of smut. “Did we fuck on stage and I don’t remember it or some shit?” He asks, bewildered.
Gentaro covers his mouth with his hand, laughing to himself, “Not to my knowledge. We will have to ask Ramuda to be completely sure, however.”
“I feel like I’d’ve remembered that,” Dice mutters, eyebrows furrowed as he scrolls.
“Oh, don’t you remember, Dice? Our wedding night?” Gentaro flutters his eyelashes, laying a polished hand on Dice’s thigh and leaning in to get his attention. “When we consummated our marriage for the first time?”
Dice looks over, eyebrows through the ceiling, “First time?!”
Gentaro tilts his head, “Why, of course. It’s a wife’s duty to please their husband frequently.” Dice’s thigh is so warm. He loves how these games give him permission to touch him.
“Who’s the wife? Me or you?”
“We take turns, of course. Didn’t you see that in the art?” Gentaro preens.
Dice looks back at the screen. “Yeah, I noticed that. Some of them are really unrealistic, like, I don’t see you as the fuckin’... domineering type.”
Gentaro gasps, leaning into his view, “Gentaro didn’t know Dice knew such a big word.”
Dice clicks his tongue, pushing Gentaro off of him. Ah, darn. “Hey, I went to school too, y’know! I mean I’m not gonna make the whole… googly eyes and ‘ooaa’ face,” Dice says, making an innocent anime girl face.
“Oh, do make that face again, Dice-chan,” Gentaro purrs, resting his head in his hand with his elbow on the kotatsu.
Dice shoves him, and Gentaro has to fight back a laugh. “Shut up! You’re the one making that face in most of the pics anyway!” He leans in, raising an eyebrow, “All of them say you’re a virgin.”
Gentaro flushes but continues with his story, laying a hand over his heart, “Why, of course. I had to save myself for my true love, like any good maiden.”
“Wait, really?” Gentaro blinks. Is he asking if he loves-- “Are you really a virgin?”
Gentaro wants to bury himself in the ground.
“...No. I am not.” This is barely not a lie. He’s never even dated anyone.
“Oh, whew. That would be crazy.” Dice leans back, seemingly relieved. Gentaro doesn’t know why that response irritates him. “Though, I can’t even actually imagine you with a chick.”
Oh, it was certainly not with a chick. “Do you try to imagine me in bed often?”
Dice flushes, “O-Of course not! I’m just saying I can’t even imagine like--I don’t know! You know what I mean!”
“I was known far and wide for my romance skills in a previous life, I’ll have you know,” Gentaro says, draping a hand over his chest. Whatever he must do to get this conversation on a different track.
“You really believe in all this ‘previous life’ stuff? I thought you wouldn’t even be able to remember ‘em?”
How are they talking about reincarnation theory while there’s pornography in front of them? “Mmm.. the memories are faint and piecemeal, but of course I still remember those wisps. How could I not? I would have had to lie all this time.”
“Hmm…” Dice looks back at the laptop, thinking. “Why does all this exist?”
Because of our natural chemistry and the ‘fuck me’ eyes I apparently always have around you. “Because we are so handsome that the fans cannot help but imagine us in the nude as God created us.”
“But together?”
“How else will they know what we look like in the throes of pleasure? And it’s no fun if it’s a stranger in a picture.”
“Hmm… Okay. That makes sense.” Thank God. “What’s this shit called? Like, what’d you look up?” Shit.
Gentaro pauses, his brain’s metaphorical filing cabinets on fire. He specifically chose to show him the pornography rather than the lovey-dovey musings on Gentaro’s unconditional affection. “Pardon?”
“Like, our, uh… What’d Ramuda say that one time, ‘ship name?’ I wanna ask Riou if he’s got similar shit for his crew.”
Error. Error. Error. He doesn’t have enough time to come up with a plan to avoid this. “Gendice.” Maybe he can get the little Yamada boy to delete all of it minus the pornography off of the internet before Dice can look it up.
“Damn, that makes sense. That’s crazy.” Dice stands up, stretching up and putting his arms behind his head. Gentaro can see a sliver of his stomach peeking out from under his shirt. “I’m gettin’ the itch for the slots again, though, so I’ll show him later. That’s crazy though.”
“Indeed.” At least he has a few hours of dignity left until Dice finds everything.
“I’ll probably stay the night at Riou’s but we’re still on for the meeting at Ramuda’s tomorrow, yeah?” Dice says, wandering away to kick his shoes on.
“Of course. I’ll see you then.” Maybe he’ll be so destroyed by gambling that he won’t remember to look it up.
“Aight, thanks for feeding me! See ya!” Dice calls, waving as he hops out the door.
“Goodbye.”
Shit.
“Who is this?”
“Hello, Yamada-chan?”
“It’s Saburo.”
“Yes, Saburo. Can you remove something from the Internet for me?”
“...Generally, yes. What is it?”
“Can you delete all of the posts regarding a certain topic, across all social medias, but only the posts that are not pornography? …--Ah, he hung up.”
Gentaro sips his tea, watching Ramuda bounce around his garishly-colored room. “It’s so rare for you to come hang out, Gentaro! We should have a sleepover!”
“We should not.”
Ramuda ignores him. “You should’ve warned me that you were coming so I’d have more snacks! Ooh, and I could’ve made something for you to model for me! Waa, that would’ve been so fun!”
“Would it have?” Gentaro says dryly over the brim of his teacup.
“Yes, but even more fun with Dice!” Ramuda eyes him pointedly.
It was never Gentaro’s intention for anyone to know, least of all Ramuda. But Ramuda is perceptive, always analyzing and watching, even if he pretends to be a ditz. So he knew right away, and confronted him a few weeks in.
“Before you go, Gentaro… You like Dice, don’t you?”
“...Of course. He’s a teammate.”
“Noo, don’t dodge the question, silly! You know what I mean.” He eyes him, “You want to be his boyfriend.” Gentaro opens his mouth to deny it. “And don’t lie, Gentaro. I know when you’re lying, and I don’t like lies.”
Gentaro sets his cup down, folding his hands in his lap. “So you’ve deduced why I’m here.”
“Hmm, well, Gentaro-chan rarely comes over, especially not alone, and I know he secretly like-likes Dice, sooo…” Ramuda looks to the sky with a finger against his cheek.
Gentaro grimaces, ears burning. “Don’t say it like that.”
“But it’s true~! You’re like a cute little pining schoolgirl,” Ramuda skips around, “Dear diary, today Dice did the cuuutest thing--”
Gentaro stands up, “I’ll be leaving now.”
Ramuda jumps over to hug him, holding him in place, “Nooo, don’t leave! I wanna help you!! I’ll be quiet, I swear.”
“You are incapable of that.”
“I can swear just fine!”
Gentaro sighs, “You know what I was talking about. Now, can you please remove yourself from my body?”
Ramuda does, making an unhappy face before skipping back to his pile of half-finished clothes. “Fine, fine. So, what happened today that was so bad you came to me about it? Is he, like, really mad at you or something?”
Gentaro sits back down, hanging his head. “I’m afraid it is worse than that.”
Ramuda gasps. “You punched him?!”
“I--No.” Gentaro plays with his fingers, a nervous tic. “You know our fan base, of course?” Ramuda nods fervently. “Well, I enlightened him about some of the more scandalous art concerning himself and myself. Showed him some, I mean.”
Ramuda chews on his lollipop stick. “Why?”
“I sought to embarrass him, nothing more. He did not react as dramatically as I expected.”
“Hmmm… What’d he say?”
Gentaro puts a finger on his chin, “Well, he said he couldn’t imagine me sharing sheets with a woman.”
“He’s on the right track!”
“I would prefer he wasn’t.” Gentaro sighs, placing his hands back in his lap, “But he seemed more bewildered than distressed. Which is fine, but it pushed him to ask for our… ship name so that he could investigate further later.”
Ramuda perks up. “Investigate later?”
“To show Riou.”
Ramuda deflates, chewing on his lollipop stick unhappily, “Oh. Wait, but why is this a problem? You already showed it to him. Unless you’re the one drawing all of it?”
Gentaro waves him off, “No. Rid yourself of that image immediately.” Ramuda clicks his tongue, crossing his arms. “Have you read what they say about me, Ramuda?”
Ramuda looks to the side, “Hmm, no, I mostly read about myself.”
“Of course,” Gentaro sighs.
“Let me look it up,” he says, whipping out his phone. He taps a few buttons then scrolls. He reads, gnawing on his lollipop. After a moment, he nods. “I see your problem.”
“Indeed.”
“You really aren’t subtle, huh?”
“Clearly not,” Gentaro says dryly.
“Hahaha, what a pickle.” Ramuda smiles, eyes glinting. “Very fun!”
“I was hoping you would have a solution.”
“Have you considered just telling him?” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth and points it at Gentaro. “Or you could dress up as a gambler and gamble his phone away from him so he can’t use the Internet.”
Gentaro intertwines his fingers in his lap. “Hmm, perhaps. I fear both of us are rather recognizable to him at this point, however. I doubt any disguise would sustain our anonymity during such a prolonged exchange.”
Ramuda blows raspberries, crossing his arms. “We could just steal it. But then he’ll miss our hangouts ‘cause he won’t get our texts!”
“And it’s simply prolonging the inevitable.”
“When’s he supposed to be looking it up, anyway?” Ramuda asks, before sticking the lollipop back in his mouth.
Gentaro taps his phone to look at the time. “Given the absurd amount of time he spends in the casino… Most likely, in an hour. He said, I quoteth--” he puts on a thick country accent “--‘I’m gunna show my great pal Riou these pornos tonight over some chow!’”
Ramuda laughs, a shrill but joyful thing. “That’s not what he sounds like at all!”
“Ah, is that so? I see no Dice here to clarify the cadence of his voice. I suppose we will never know his true timbre.” Gentaro says, closing his eyes and nodding wistfully.
“So he’s sharing porn with Riou, hmmm?” He props his chin on his hand, “While they’re sharing a tent alone in the woods?”
Gentaro flattens his lips together. “You imply that Dice is getting off to the depictions of us together?”
“Noo, I only wanna imply that him and Riou could’ve done it together at some point!” Gentaro stiffens. Ramuda laughs, pointing at him, “Waaa, Gentaro’s jealous!”
“No, I am simply disturbed by the idea you proposed.”
“Because you’re jealous!” Ramuda climbs to his feet, standing on his chair so that he can look down at Gentaro. “Because you wanna be the one on top of Dice~”
Gentaro sighs, leaning back. “Are we having a dialogue, or are you simply monologuing your fantasies?”
Ramuda hops down before pretending to stalk around the room, hands outstretched like claws, “Hunting after his bussy like a predator.”
“Sometimes, I consider writing you into a novel simply so that I can kill you.”
“I am unkillable.”
“What?”
“What?” Ramuda skips back to his chair, “Anyways, so you have no choice now, yeah? It’s too late to change anything?”
Gentaro rubs a hand over his cheek, “I suppose.”
“Hmmmm!” Ramuda slurps his lollipop. He pops it out his mouth with a wet smack and points it at Gentaro, “Want some beer?”
“...From you?”
“Well, you pretty much have no option left but to just wait til you face Dice again tomorrow, hahaha! Thought it would only be polite to ask if you needed a sleepover since you’re stressed,” he beams.
Gentaro crinkles his nose. “I do not want that.”
Ramuda clicks his tongue, “You’re really not polite.”
“Mm, perhaps.” Gentaro stands, “Perhaps you were a subordinate of mine in a previous life, so I owe you no pleasantries.”
“I doubt that.” Ramuda bites the candy off the lollipop and flicks the stick into the garbage can. “You leaving now?”
“Indeed. I have determined it would be best to return to my study and write until tomorrow’s meeting.”
Ramuda waves, “Well, I’ll be excitedly waiting for tomorrow!!”
Gentaro lets out a breath. “I will hope it is not the end of Fling Posse.”
He did write. He lost himself in his musings, quill pen etching elegant characters into his drafting papers. He wrote of pining and unrequited love, battles fought back to back, a princess falling for a charming frog. He has always hated the concept of “muses” in art, believing it unrealistic, and yet his journeys with Fling Posse have left him more inspired than he had been in years.
And then it came time for the awaited (and dreaded) meeting. And… nothing was different. If anything, the only difference was Ramuda and Gentaro’s hesitant confusion, as though they were waiting for the ball to drop at any moment. But it didn’t. And after the hour was done, Dice left, waving cheerfully as always and promising to swing by Gentaro’s in the evening (ie, so Gentaro can give him dinner).
Gentaro and Ramuda stare at the door after it closes, the perplexion they had been hiding all morning now clear on their faces. Ramuda cocks his head, “Did he… forget?”
“How does one forget seeing pornography of themselves?”
“He didn’t lose his phone, obviously, ‘cause he showed up mostly on time,” Ramuda squints. “Has he, like, already known you were crushing on him?”
Gentaro puts a hand on his chin, eyebrows creased, “He shows no signs of knowing that.”
“Hmm… Maybe he just didn’t wanna confront you in front of me so he’s gonna confront you tonight?”
“I suppose… But I don’t believe Dice to be capable of hiding something of that significance for so long.”
Ramuda makes a tiny circle with his hand, “Maybe his brain is soooo small that he can’t hold two things in his brain at the same time.” He looks up at Gentaro, “So he just, like, couldn’t think about how he was gonna confront you while I was here cause it’s, like, two separate things.”
Gentaro turns to Ramuda. “Ramuda, I am, to be frank, deeply impressed that you believe Dice to be even less intelligent than I do.”
He beams. “Aww, thank ya Genty!!”
“I am unsure if that was a compliment.”
“I’m taking it to be one,” Ramuda says, twirling a strand of hair.
“Of course you are,” Gentaro sighs. He looks towards the door with creased eyebrows.
“Look,” Ramuda starts, flipping his hair with one hand. “You’ll find out tonight, won’t you? So you might as well just, like, forget about it until then.”
“I suppose so,” Gentaro says, voice wavering with uncertainty. His brain is preoccupied by bewilderment.
“Just write or whatever! It’s not that long of a wait.” Ramuda pauses. “But you have to tell me what happens, okay! Like, as soon as possible. A.S.A.P. ASAP.”
“So you’re recommending I be patient while you say this?” Gentaro brings a hand to his chin and cocks his head. “Quite a poor role model.”
Ramuda waves his hand dismissively. “That’s okay, I’m your leader so I can do that. The rules don’t apply to the leader. Obviously.” He unwraps a lollipop and pops it into his mouth. He then points at Gentaro, pulling it out his mouth to speak. “Haven’t you ever seen a cult? Or, like, any business? And most governments?”
“What is this, a speech bemoaning corruption? I didn’t know you possessed such political vigor.”
“No. It’s a speech on why the rules don’t apply to me.” Ramuda pops the lollipop back into his mouth. “Obviously.”
“...Right.” Gentaro looks towards the door again, but this time for his own departure. His eyes return to Ramuda. “I must be going. As you said, I must return to my busy life as a writer.”
Ramuda nods vigorously. “Mmkayyy, Ramu-chan understands.” He shoos the taller man, “Then go, go! And tell me how it goes with Dice, okay?”
Ah, right. That. “Yes, of course.” He turns, heading towards the door. “You will be the first to know,” he calls over his shoulder. “Not even I will know; I shall ensure you receive the knowledge first.”
“Sounds good, you work on that!” Ramuda beams. He waves giddily, “Bye bye, Genty! Good luck!”
“Thank you,” Gentaro responds dryly. He hopes he doesn’t need it. “Until next time, Ramuda,” he calls, before shutting the door.
Now, it is time for waiting. Again.
Dice Arisugawa [7:32pm]:
heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ;P
Gentaro inhales, closing his eyes. So, he’s going to be here soon. He opens his eyes, delicately setting his pen down and screwing the cap back onto the pot of ink. He rises, smoothing his hands over his skirts to get out any wrinkles before walking towards the kitchen. He takes a bag of frozen vegetables out of the freezer and puts it in the microwave, its electronic drone breaking the quiet that has consumed his apartment for the past few hours.
He has enough time to fluff his hair before he hears a loud knock at the door. He smiles, an unconscious thing that always escapes when Dice arrives. He’s annoying, to be sure, and a drain on his wallet, but his companionship is a welcome respite from the quiet monotony of life.
He opens the door, beckoning Dice inside with a wave of his arm and a bow. Dice awkwardly bows back before hopping inside, sliding his shoes off. “Ooh, what’s cooking?”
“Good evening to you too, Dice.” Dice wanders into the kitchen, pulling open a cabinet. “Rice and steamed vegetables. I’ve been terribly busy, so I’m afraid the wandering gambler must fix himself something if he wants more than that.”
“Nah, that’s fine, I probably need a veggie anyway. You got tea?”
Gentaro nods, “On the stove. It’s rose bud.”
Dice clicks his tongue, pulling two cups out of the cabinet and heading to the kettle. “I don’t like rose tea.”
“A shame,” Gentaro says dryly. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I furnish your kitchen. Until then…”
Dice sticks his tongue out at him before turning to pour them both cups. “I went to a casino in Shinjuku today.”
Gentaro spoons himself a bowl of rice. “Oh?”
“Yeah, thought the change of location might make my luck better or something.” He sets both their cups on the table. “You know that host guy is, like, practically a celebrity there?”
Gentaro takes the bag of vegetables out of the microwave and opens it, leaning back to avoid the steam. “So I’ve heard. It’s a vapid city, I suppose.”
Dice grabs a bowl and starts serving himself. “Yeah, it was so annoying. Had to see that dickhead’s face smirking at me all over the place. Like, Ramuda’s popular here, but you don’t see that guy plastering his mug on billboards. And if he was, it wouldn’t be so annoying. He wouldn’t be smirking.”
Gentaro finishes dishing his own vegetables and hands the spoon to Dice. Dice accepts. “So you will not be returning, then?”
“Nah. I mean, probably, but not for a few weeks, at least.” Dice looks so solemn. Gentaro doesn’t like how it looks on him. “Just, like, put a sour note on the whole day, y’know. My luck was shit.”
Gentaro sets his bowl on the table, smoothing his skirts under himself as he sits. “If I would have known it would affect you to this extent, I would have replaced his visage with my own.”
“Tch. Maybe,” Dice sits across from Gentaro, grabbing the soy sauce and sauces. “His suit’s dumb anyway.”
Gentaro pauses before tilting his head, smiling. “Did this upset you because of his comments towards me in our previous encounter?”
“I mean, yeah.” Dice stuffs a bite in his mouth, gesturing, “He’s clearly an asshole, cuz he did that asshole shit. So why’s he get to be plastered everywhere?”
“Life is unfair.” Gentaro says, before fluttering his eyelashes, “Are you mad on my behalf, dear Dice? My protector~”
Dice’s ears redden, “I’ll throw broccoli at you, bro.”
“I would prefer you did not,” Gentaro says, smiling over his chopsticks.
Dice, instead, pops the broccoli in his mouth, looking to the side. He was deep in thought. Gentaro watches, eating quietly while the gears turn in Dice’s head. He’s so cute with his eyebrows scrunched up like that. Ah, how Gentaro wishes he were a painter; he would need paragraphs to describe Dice’s imperfect beauty, and it still would never come close to his true splendor.
“I feel, like, shitty about something,” Dice says, finally.
“All that thought for such a complex sentence.”
Dice points his chopsticks at him, growling, “Hey, I’m baring my soul here! Don’t make fun of me for it!”
Gentaro waves, “My apologies, my apologies. Please, continue.”
Dice huffs, leaning away from the kotatsu and tapping the chopsticks against his bowl. “It’s just like… I feel like you and Ramuda are always having to take care of me.”
“Uh huh,” Gentaro says. Dice glowers at him, and Gentaro waves again, “Sorry, sorry.”
“I was talking to Riou last night, right, about the stuff we saw in that ship tag.” Ah, so he did. “And there were a lotta pictures of us at division events of me staring off into space or whatever--” he waves his hand in the air “--and you lookin’ at me.” Gentaro eats a small bite of rice so he has an excuse to look away from Dice. “And I was kinda confused about it but Riou was saying that he does the same thing with his teammates ‘cause they get into messes a lot so he needs to look after them. Y’know, make sure they’re not doing dumb shit or hurt or anything.”
“So you’re saying…” Gentaro trails off, unsure.
“I’m saying I feel bad that you always gotta look at me and look after me, y’know, all the time.” Dice shifts on his pillow seat. “I know I can look after myself ‘cause I’ve been doing it all these years now but also I know my standards of living are probably under yours so it might, like, worry you. And I’m always dragging you into my shit, y’know, so I don’t blame you for being, uh, hyper-conscious of me.” He sighs, slumping, “I think I’m just rambling. What I’m saying is, I don’t wanna drag down our team and I don’t want you to feel so worried about me that you have to look at me all the time.”
Gentaro could kiss Riou on the mouth right now. He has managed to make all of the photographic evidence of his longing void because he convinced Dice that Gentaro was just looking after him as a teammate. God bless that himbo. “I see,” he says, trying very hard to seem calm and attentive instead of jumping for joy.
Dice shovels some rice into his mouth, chewing as he sets an elbow on the table and rests his cheek against his fist. “I guess my argument about you not needing to look after me doesn’t really work well when I’m crashing at your place, huh?”
“No, perhaps not.” Gentaro pushes a lock of hair behind his ear. “But… I do understand what you’re saying. And to it I would say that yes, you could probably work on gaining stability in your life.” He takes a breath in, “However, I don’t think you should let guilt control you over this. I assure you that I am just an attentive person, and I do trust you wholeheartedly when it comes to battles. I have seen your resilience and determination firsthand a number of times, and it usually extends past what I myself would be able to do if I lived as chaotically as you.” He pauses, flattening his lips. “While I hate to encourage your behavior in any way, I admit that its excitement might fuel you in a way that stagnation would not.”
Dice smiles into his bowl, “Yeah, I think so too. I dunno. I’m gonna try to slow down on some of the dumbest shit I do but I don’t think I could, like, become a salaryman or some shit.” He wrinkles his nose, “Actually, if I ever do become a salaryman, just go ahead and decapitate me, ‘kay? ‘Cause I might as well be dead.”
“I will not do that, but I will ask Ramuda if he is willing to agree to those terms.” Gentaro nods.
“Hey, that’s good enough for me.” He lifts his cup of tea, “Cheers to not becoming salarymen?”
Gentaro smiles despite himself, lifting his cup in turn. “Cheers to us, Fling Posse, and Shibuya at large.”
Tea spills onto Dice’s hand when they clink glasses, which results in more tea being spilled as Dice freaks out about the hot liquid searing his skin. Gentaro laughs, holding Dice’s wrist as he pats his hand with a napkin, scaring him with stories of third degree burns from hot tea before assuaging his fears. Ah, maybe if it was a third degree burn he would get to hold his hand for longer. He shakes his head; no, that’s an unlucky thing to think of. Instead, he will stand and offer Dice a new cup of tea and a blanket for sleeping on the couch.
That evening, when Dice was settling onto the couch for the night and Gentaro was walking to his private quarters, Dice stopped him. “Hey, Gentaro?”
Gentaro slows, looking back to where Dice was watching him from the couch. “Yes?”
“Thank you. Not just for tonight, but for everything.”
His sincerity takes him aback. He blinks, unsure how to reply. “It’s nothing,” he says, finally. “Sleep well, Dice.”
Dice settles back into the couch and Gentaro retreats into his room. He shuts himself in before leaning his back against the door, closing his eyes. He sets his hand over his heart, gripping the fabric of his jinbei; his heart aches. He wanted to say thank you back, to tell him that he was the force saturating his mind at all times, the person that has made him smile more than he has in years, the being that breathed color back into his world. And yet all he can manage to do most of the time is manipulate his gullibility and sling insults. God, he’s a tsundere.
Sometimes, he feels guilty about his relationship with Dice. Sometimes, he feels like a nonsexual sugar daddy, paying for Dice’s friendship. Sure, he seems excited enough to hang out with him, but sometimes he fears that that’s the money talking.
He releases his chest, opening his eyes. He can still feel his heart in his throat. Being around Dice is a cardio exercise, because his heart is always beating so, so fast at every word he says and every cocky swing of his hips. He pushes himself towards his bed; he can’t start thinking about Dice’s hips, not while he’s in the next room. The thought is heady and too dangerous to indulge for long.
He drapes himself across his bed, lying on his sheets and staring at the ceiling. As he closes his eyes, he thinks of what to make Dice for breakfast in the morning.