Work Text:
Sakura Sour
50ml Plum wine
20ml Coffey grain whiskey
15ml Peach liquor
15ml Almond syrup
20ml Yuzu lemon blend
15ml Egg whites
Add all ingredients into a shaker tin without ice, and shake well. Open the shaker and add large ice cubes and shake well once more.
Double strain into a rocks glass over a large ice cube, and garnish with a Sakura Blossom flower.
“You’re late.”
Confusion creeps over Kojiro as he steps through the front door of Sole, his cheeks still flushed from his walk through the cool, winter wind. It’s not the abrupt greeting from his manager that has him confused, though. He knows he’s late, at least by Oka’s standards, choosing to enjoy a leisurely walk on his way to the bar that evening over catching the train like he probably should have.
“I’m not late,” Kojiro says, removing his scarf from around his neck, and hanging it on the coat rack next to the front door, following it shortly with his jacket, “I’m right on time.”
“It’s 6:57, Kojiro. We open at 7:00. You’re late.” Oka seems flustered, having traversed the length of the bar at least three times since Kojiro walked in. He’s carrying a box of what looks like pink and red decorations, only partially clearing up some of Kojiro’s confusion as to exactly why there are strings of paper hearts and plastic roses strung around the room. The next time he passes, Oka stops in front of him and hands him a red rose attached to a lapel pin. “Put this on.”
Kojiro looks down at the pin, and then back around at the kitschy decorations. There’s a lit candle and a skinny vase holding a single rose adorning every table. “What’s all this about?” he asks, waving a hand in the general direction of all this while he makes his way over to the bar.
“Are you serious, Kojiro?” an exasperated Oka asks, placing the box of decorations onto the bartop. “Would it kill you to read an email?”
Kojiro groans, and rolls his eyes again, reaching under the counter for his maroon apron that he proceeds to tie around his waist. Sometimes the three year age gap between Oka and himself feels more like ten, considering how the way the older man acts. “Why are you sending me emails in the first place? I’m literally your only employee. I'm here every night.”
“Well maybe, if you listened to me for once, I wouldn’t have to send you emails,” Oka chides, and then crouches down so he can slide the box under the bar, before reemerging with his own apron. “And maybe, if you checked your emails, you’d know that we’re having a Valentine’s Day promotion tonight.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day today?”
Oka stares at him for a moment, clearly unimpressed. “I hired an idiot.”
“Hey!” Kojiro scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “How should I know if it’s Valentine’s Day or not? You know I don’t subscribe to that crap. It’s an over-commercialised excuse for a holiday that forces you to spend a ridiculous amount of money on your partner just to prove to them that you love them. It makes me sick.”
Oka rolls his eyes. “You’re like the Grinch of Valentine’s Day, you know?”
“I’ve always considered myself more of an Ebenezer Scrooge.”
“You know what, Kojiro? You’re right. How should you know?” Oka says, leaning one hip against the bar, barely trying to hide his insincerity from Kojiro as he narrows his eyes at him. “How long has it been since you’ve had a date for Valentine’s Day, again?”
Ouch.
“Low blow, man. Low blow,” Kojiro says, with a frown. Not because Kojiro is particularly upset about his current relationship status; he’s spent most of his 27 years on this earth as a single man, and he’s okay with that. He’s had plenty of flings over the years; even one or two that could have been more. Should have been more, when Kojiro looked at them on paper. But none of them had been able to keep his interest for more than a few months. They had been nice people, and the time they had spent together had been just fine.
But Kojiro doesn’t want to settle for fine. He wants great.
And he’s happy to wait for it.
So no, he isn’t upset at Oka for pointing out that he’s perpetually single. He’s annoyed that he’s constantly being made to feel like it’s some sort of failure on his part. And it’s not just Oka; his mother has been on his back for years, begging him to just find someone to settle down with. To have a family with.
Great doesn’t exist, Kojiro. Do you really want to be alone forever?
The frustration must show on his face, because a few moments later Oka is in front of him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry. That wasn’t cool of me,” he says, with a grimace, and Kojiro knows he really means it; Oka’s frustration can get the better of him sometimes, but the man doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. So he shakes his head and smiles back, letting him off the hook, just like that. Oka sighs in relief, and gives him a few, reassuring pats on the shoulder. “Think you can pretend to like Valentine’s Day for me though, just for tonight?”
Kojiro knows he’s lost this battle (or maybe he’s just lost some of his will to fight), so he lets out a big sigh of defeat, before surrendering with, “What do you need me to do?” The big grin on Oka’s face is almost worth putting aside his morals for the night. He grabs the lapel pin he’d handed Kojiro earlier and attaches it to Kojiro’s vest, black and fitted snugly over the top of his white shirt.
“Just need you to learn the drink specials.” Oka points to a sign standing on the bar that says “Sole’s 2-for-1 Valentine’s Day Cocktail Specials”, which is printed on candy pink paper and decorated with more hearts, which Kojiro rolls his eyes at. There are three cocktails on offer, the ingredients of each detailed in a curly, cursive font that Kojiro has to squint to read:
Love Potion
Berries, vanilla ice cream, vodka, white crème de cacao liqueur
Sweetheart
Vodka, cranberry juice, lime juice, rose petals
Cupid’s Arrow
Vodka, blood orange liqueur, orange juice, lemon juice, lemon lime soda, sugar
They all sound sickeningly sweet, but Kojiro does what he’s told and commits the ingredients to memory, even double checking with Oka whether he needs to add ice or not; whether they need to be blended, or stirred, or shaken. He prepares as he would for any other night at the bar: he slices half the limes, and juices the other half; checks the levels of all the spirits and the mixers; makes sure the ice buckets are full.
Yes, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll pretend that tonight is just like any other night.
Which is easier said than done when the bar eventually opens and couples start wandering in. To Kojiro’s disgust, they make no attempt to hide their public displays of affection as they fill up the tables and booths. Once those are full they even start taking up a few of the spare stools opposite Kojiro at the bar, making it almost impossible to pretend it’s a normal night when they’re sitting right in front of him, shamelessly holding hands, or cuddling, or kissing.
It’s utterly adorable.
Gross. He means gross.
Yes, Kojiro thinks he’d rather stab his own eyes out than be forced to watch as these couples dote on each other for the rest of the night, because it’s just sad, really, that these poor fools have fallen for the Valentine’s Day scam. It’s definitely not because he wishes he had someone who he could dote on, someone he could kiss and whisper I love you too in a dimly lit bar, before taking them home to—
“Is it okay if I sit here? All the tables are taken.”
Kojiro, who had been absentmindedly straining a round of Sweethearts into some glasses, looks up to find the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen standing opposite him. Golden eyes, warm like honey, hidden behind subtle, silver-framed glasses look back at him, and the man’s sharp features—his nose, his high cheekbones—are pink and flushed from the cold night air. He’s wearing a black turtle-neck sweater, a studded leather jacket, and a collection of silver jewelry: around his neck; on his fingers; in his lip and his eyebrow and his ears. His long pink hair hangs straight over his shoulders, the top of it pulled back in a half-ponytail, his fringe left out to frame his face.
Kojiro was never one to believe in love at first sight. How could you know from just one look at somebody that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them? He just didn’t believe it was possible.
Until now.
The beautiful creature smiles at him—a little awkwardly, probably because Kojiro still hasn’t answered him—but then his eyes go wide, and he lets out a gasp and points down in front of Kojiro. He gasps as well when he looks down and sees one of the glasses he’s pouring the Sweethearts into has started to overflow onto the bar.
“Shit!” he curses, dropping the cocktail shaker onto the bar, causing even more of the drink to spill across it. “Shit. Shit,” he swears again, as he grabs the closest tea towel to try and soak up most of the sticky liquid. He panics for a moment, worried that his embarrassing display of absolute ineptitude might have caused the beautiful creature to run away, but to his relief he looks up to see him still standing there, cringing slightly and trying to hold back a laugh.
Beautiful.
“Um—yes, please sit,” Kojiro stammers, with an awkward laugh as he wipes away what he can with the tea towel before grabbing a sponge and the cleaning spray. For a moment he spots Oka glaring at him from where he’s delivering drinks to a booth on the other side of the room, but he ignores the death stare and returns his attention to the beautiful creature in front of him and says, “Sorry, I just need to deal with this, and I’ll be right with you.”
The man chuckles, but slides into the stool anyway, as Kojiro hoped he would. “Not a problem. Take your time,” he says, and then pulls out his phone to keep himself occupied. He’s alone, Kojiro realises all of a sudden. No date? He tells himself not to get his hopes up; just because the date isn’t here now doesn’t mean they’re not on their way. But he can’t help but hope a little bit when the man is still alone after Kojiro has finished cleaning up his mess, and even still when he’s finished remaking the round of ruined Sweethearts.
The man—Pinky, as Kojiro has temporarily dubbed him, at least until he learns the beautiful creature’s name—is still looking at his phone when Kojiro takes a deep breath and finally approaches him at the bar. “Sorry about that,” he says with a chuckle, and then Pinky looks up at him with those honey eyes it takes his breath away all over again. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Um…” Pinky takes a quick look over his shoulder and then turns back, his pink hair fanning out majestically as he moves. “I’m actually waiting for someone.”
Shit. Of course he’s waiting for someone. Idiot, Kojiro. There’s no way a man this beautiful is just wandering around single in Okinawa on Valentine’s Day. Kojiro’s luck isn’t that good.
“Oh,” Kojiro responds, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, “Girlfriend? Boyfriend?” There’s no wedding band amongst the many rings on the man’s fingers, so Kojiro doesn’t bother to ask if he has a husband or wife.
Pinky thinks for a moment, and then looks down at his phone. “Um, no. Not exactly.”
Oh. Maybe Kojiro does have a chance here. Maybe all hope is not lost and Pinky will agree to go on a date with him and maybe, maybe marry him one day and spend every Valentine’s Day together with him for the rest of their lives.
Maybe. But he should really make sure before he lets himself get too invested in their future together.
“But, it is a date, right?” Kojiro probes, hoping the question sounds innocent enough as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the bar. He’s closer to the man now, close enough that he can faintly smell his cologne—a mixture of pear, and jasmine, and something else: something floral that Kojiro can’t place just yet. “I mean, it is Valentine’s Day after all.”
“Um, yes,” Pinky says, although he doesn’t sound too confident, and Kojiro watches as his cheeks flush the same colour as his hair. He wants to kiss them. “It’s a date.”
“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?”
“Well, we haven’t exactly…” Pinky looks down at his phone, his teeth darting out to play with the piercing in his bottom lip. Cute. “I haven’t actually met him before. This is going to be our first date.”
“Oh,” is all Kojiro can say, because it’s taking all of his strength not to launch himself across the bar and kiss Pinky right now. He’s pretty sure Pinky wouldn’t approve of a relative stranger kissing him without his consent, but he doesn’t know what else to do because it feels like fireworks are going off inside him because he might actually stand a chance here. So instead he just nods, and again says, “Oh.”
Pinky looks back up from his phone, and Kojiro is sure he’ll never see a set of eyes as beautiful as these ones again in his lifetime. He’s so lost in them in fact, that he doesn’t even notice his manager approaching the other side of the bar.
“Kojiro.”
He reluctantly looks up to see Oka, clearly unimpressed and holding a tray of empty glasses. Oka’s eyes dart between Kojiro, to Pinky then back to Kojiro, before he raises a disapproving eyebrow and holds the tray out to Kojiro expectantly. Kojiro huffs, but he pushes back off the bar anyway, reaching out to take the tray.
“Do you think you could maybe do your job and make some Cupid’s Arrows for table three?” Oka asks, barely hiding his condescending tone. Maybe Kojiro should be more offended by the comment, but this isn’t the first time Oka has called him out for flirting with the customers, so he doesn’t bite.
“On it, boss!” Kojiro replies with mock enthusiasm and a salute, and Oka just sighs and shakes his head before heading back out to take more orders.
Despite the chatter and the music filling the bar, it feels quiet as Kojiro grabs a clean cocktail shaker. He starts collecting the ingredients from their places behind the bar, and he can’t help but smirk to himself; he can feel those golden eyes tracking him as he moves from one end to the other. When he’s collected everything he needs, he sets up directly in front of Pinky (purely out of convenience, of course), and as he measures the first shot of vodka he glances up quickly to confirm what he already suspected: that Pinky hasn’t taken his eyes off of him.
When he realises he’s been caught staring, Pinky sputters and covers his mouth with his hand, using it to stifle an embarrassed laugh. It’s the cutest thing Kojiro’s ever seen. “I’m sorry,” Pinky groans, although it doesn’t stop him from watching as Kojiro finishes pouring the vodka, or when he reaches for the bottle of Ambra next.
“Don’t sweat it,” Kojiro shrugs as he pours in the blood orange liqueur. He’s feeling bold now, knowing that he has Pinky’s attention, so he looks him directly in the eye and flips the bottle once in his hand before pouring the second shot. “I’m flattered,” he adds, with a wink, and Pinky sputters and laughs again. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.
Kojiro wonders what else he could do to make him react that way.
“And, um… I’m sorry if I got you in trouble before. With your boss.”
Kojiro laughs and grabs the orange juice. “Nah, he’ll get over it. Most people find it hard to stay mad at me for long.”
“I don’t doubt that… Kojiro, was it?”
Kojiro tries not to react to the sound of his name falling so smoothly from the man’s lips. “That’s right,” he says, trying to hide the way his hands are shaking as he pours the orange juice in.
“I’m Kaoru.”
Kaoru.
Of course the beautiful creature has a beautiful name to go with his beautiful face and his beautiful laugh and his beautiful voice.
“So tell me, Kaoru…” Kojiro starts, adding a squeeze of lemon juice and a pinch of sugar to the shaker. He knows that if he’s going to have any chance with Kaoru, the best time to start making a move is right now, before the date shows up and he’ll have to start competing with them for Kaoru’s attention. He secures the lid on the shaker, and lifts it over his shoulder to shake it. “How long until your date gets here and I can spit in their drink for making you wait so long?”
Kaoru looks surprised for a moment—almost as though he’d forgotten he was waiting for someone at all, then he looks over his shoulder towards the entrance of the bar, and then back down at his phone. “Um…” he hums, chewing on his lip piercing again. He must do that when he’s nervous, Kojiro thinks. So cute. “He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh,” Kojiro muses as he continues to shake. “What’s his excuse? Is he stuck in traffic or something?”
“I… don’t know.” Kaoru looks down at his phone again and frowns. “He hasn’t responded to any of my messages.”
Kojiro winces at that, bringing the shaking to a halt. He’s dated enough people to know that if someone doesn’t message you to let you know that they’re running fifteen minutes late, chances are they’re not coming at all. Which is fantastic news for Kojiro, but awful news for Kaoru, so he tries his hardest not to smile.
“What?” Kaoru asks, eyes wide and panicked. “What? Is that bad?”
Kojiro shrugs. “Well, that depends,” he says, as he grabs a pair of glasses and fills them with ice. “Did he ask you on the date, or did you ask him?”
“I… I asked him.”
Kojiro winces, again.
“What!” Kaoru looks genuinely confused, and he’s so adorable, with his wide eyes and his wrinkled brow as he tries to work out what he’s done wrong.
“It’s just…” Kojiro struggles to think of a way to say this without being a complete asshole. He flicks open the lid of the shaker, and strains the liquid into the glasses, making sure to pay attention and not let them overflow this time. “A first date on Valentine’s Day is a little…”
“Desperate?” Kaoru groans.
“Well I wouldn’t have used such a harsh word, but… yeah, it comes on a little strong.”
Kojiro is pouring the lemon lime soda into the glasses when he hears a thud, and he looks up to see Kaoru has dropped his head against the bar. “Argh, I’m such an idiot,” Kaoru grumbles, and then lifts his head slightly so he can rest his chin on the bar. He looks up at Kojiro, and asks with the saddest puppy dog eyes Kojiro has ever seen, “He’s stood me up, hasn’t he?”
“Probably,” he shrugs.
“I have no idea how dating works anymore,” Kaoru groans, sitting up on his stool. He looks to his right where a couple are kissing tenderly in the stools beside him. “There should be a course you can take or something, for when you get out of a long-term relationship. You know, that teaches you these things.”
Kojiro thinks about that for a moment, and an idea starts to form in his brain as he adds the finishing garnishes to the drinks, before placing them on a tray. He hails Oka over, who gives him another warning look—a don’t-even-think-about-it look—but he takes the tray anyway and delivers it over to table three. He makes sure Oka is occupied with the customers before leaning forward onto the bar again, and asking softly:
“Why don’t you practice on me?”
Kaoru’s head snaps back to Kojiro, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion. “What?”
“Pretend I’m your date.”
Kaoru does his ridiculously cute sputter-laugh again, and then looks around the bar, as if he’s the one that should be worried about getting caught. He spots Oka in the corner, busy with table three, before leaning forward on the bar as well. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” he whispers, as though the two of them are conspiring on some top secret mission together.
“I am working,” Kojiro says with a grin, partially due to the confused look on Kaoru’s face. He pushes back off the bar, and grabs a fresh cocktail shaker, tossing it from one hand to the other. “I’m making you a drink.”
“I don’t think I qualify for the ‘2-for-1 specials’, unfortunately,” Kaoru says, gesturing to the promotional sign.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you something better than those tacky drinks,” Kojiro says, placing the shaker onto the bar, the perfect drink already in mind. Then he locks eyes with Kaoru and asks, “Do you trust me?”
The words hang heavy between them, because even though Kojiro was only talking about making a cocktail, the meaning of it feels bigger, more monumental than that somehow. It feels like an eternity passes before, finally, Kaoru breathes out a simple, “Yes.”
“Great!” Kojiro tries to hide just how pleased and relieved he is with that answer, but Kaoru has his elbow on the bar now, chin resting in his palm, smiling softly at him, and Kojiro doesn’t think he can stop the stupid grin that’s threatening to spread over his face. In an effort to hide it, he turns so he can gather the ingredients he needs. But this time when he senses Kaoru’s eyes on him, he can’t help but feel a little bit nervous—so much so that he almost drops the bottle of Nikka he needs when he pulls it off the shelf.
“Okay,” he says, when he’s finally settled back in front of Kaoru with all the ingredients spread around him, “Show me what you got.”
Kaoru blinks at him a few times. “What?” he asks, as though he’s genuinely forgotten what they’re supposed to be doing.
“Pretend we’re on a date,” Kojiro prompts, as he begins measuring out the Ume Shu into a shot glass.
“Oh.” Kaoru blinks a few more times, then seems to pull himself together enough to say, “Okay… Hi.”
“Hello, gorgeous,” Kojiro croons, winking at Kaoru as he pours the wine into the shaker.
“Oh my god,” Kaoru sputters, his cheeks turning pink. Then he leans forward on the bar and whispers, “You can’t just say something like that.”
“Why not?” Kojiro asks sincerely, because Kaoru is looking at him like he’s never been told that he’s gorgeous in his life before, and that’s honestly a crime, one that Kojiro intends to spend the rest of his life making up for. “You are gorgeous, and you deserve to be told you are. Now, keep going.”
“What?”
“With the date. Keep going.” Kojiro gives him a go on gesture with one hand, while he reaches for the bottle of Nikka with the other.
“Oh. How are you?”
Kojiro groans, rolling his eyes. “Really?”
“What, I can’t ask how you are?” Kaoru snaps, throwing his hands up in frustration.
“It’s a waste of a question,” Kojiro explains, tipping a shot of the whisky into the shaker, “No one ever answers it honestly. Especially with someone they don’t know very well. They’re just going to say that they’re good , and then the conversation is dead before it’s even started.”
“Well, Mr. Expert,” Kaoru says, leaning back in his stool and raising a sceptical eyebrow, “What am I supposed to ask them, then?”
Kojiro reaches for the peach liqueur and casually flips the bottle in his hand. “What did you do this week?”
“Who, me?”
“Yes, you. Do you see me talking to anybody else?”
“Smart-ass,” Kaoru grumbles with a pout, “I just worked, I guess.”
“Go on…” Kojiro spurs, adding the liqueur to the mixer. Kaoru looks a little hesitant to continue—maybe he’s not used to talking about himself, or maybe no-one had ever given him the permission to talk about himself before. What a shame, Kojiro thinks. He wants to know everything about Kaoru.
“Well…” Kaoru grabs a strand of his long pink hair, and runs his fingers through it as he thinks. It looks soft, and silky. Kojiro wonders if it feels soft, too. “I run my own business,” Kaoru finally continues, “Digital calligraphy design. I had a lot of meetings last week with a client that wants me to design the marketing for an exhibition they’re holding next month. And… I spent some time at the skatepark on the weekend? That’s about it.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“I just don’t understand why anyone would care about any of that stuff. It’s really not that interesting.”
You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met, Kojiro thinks.
“Are you kidding?” he scoffs, grabbing the almond syrup and measuring yet another shot to add to the shaker. “It’s so interesting. I have like, a million things I want to ask you about your business now. I mean, I have no idea what digital calligraphy design actually is, but now I want to know,” he says, picking up the bottle of Yuzu so he can measure another shot to go into the mix, “And, I found out that we have something in common.”
“We do?”
Kojiro nods. “Skateboarding.”
Kaoru’s eyes go wide. “You like to skateboard?”
“I do. Maybe we could go skating together sometime.”
“Yeah,” Kaoru agrees enthusiastically, “Yes, I’d like that a lot.”
“Would you look at that! We just organised our second date.”
The egg whites are the last component that needs to be added to the shaker, and Kojiro is glad that he needs to turn around to grab the bottle they had prepared before service so he can hide his big, stupid grin from Kaoru. He knows that this is all just pretend, that they are just practicing and they’re not actually going to go on a skateboarding date together, but there’s something about the exchange that makes Kojiro feel giddy.
“Huh,” Kaoru ponders, narrowing his eyes slightly and lifting a finger to point at Kojiro, “You’re good at this.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Kojiro says with a shrug. He pours a shot of the egg whites into the shaker, and with the final ingredient added he screws on the lid and starts to shake.
“So, what should I ask next?” Kaoru leans forward, with his chin in both hands this time, like a schoolgirl at a sleepover or something. It’s so cute. Kojiro wants to kiss his nose.
“Whatever you want! But you don’t want it to start feeling like an interview—or worse, an interrogation—so try to keep your questions open-ended, so that it gets a conversation going.” He stops shaking for a moment, then opens the shaker to add some ice cubes before he starts shaking again. “Like… ask me what kind of food I like.”
“Okay… What kind of food do you like?”
“I love Italian food. I went to this incredible Italian restaurant last week. Maybe I could take you there for dinner some time?”
“Um, sure,” Kaoru agrees again, and he looks slightly baffled this time, like he’s arrived at a destination with no memory of how he got there.
Kojiro puts the mixer down and grabs a glass, fills it with ice, and then strains the cocktail over it. “Date number three, locked in.”
“Wow,” Kaoru says, sounding dazed, “This is very helpful. Thank you.”
“You can thank me after you’ve tasted this.”
Kojiro reaches under the bar for a little zip-lock bag, and he opens it up to retrieve a single sakura blossom flower, which he places gingerly on the foamy surface of the drink. He pushes the glass across the bar, and Kaoru’s eyes go wide as he takes in the pretty pink concoction being presented to him. When he goes to reach for the glass, their fingers brush for a moment, sending a spark of electricity through Kojiro that makes him gasp softly.
Kaoru quickly looks away at the touch, down into his drink. “A cherry blossom,” he muses, watching the flower as it bobs around on the foamy surface. “So does this drink have a cheesy name as well, like the others?”
“It’s a Sakura Sour,” Kojiro answers. On any other day he’d be confident serving this drink to somebody; he’s made it a thousand times. But today there’s a little part of him that feels nervous, that feels desperate for approval.
It’s a shock when Kaoru’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then he throws his head back and laughs. It’s a loud, uninhibited laugh, and Kojiro has no idea why Kaoru is laughing, but he finds he doesn’t care because Kaoru is so, so beautiful when he laughs. He finds himself laughing as well, like he can’t help it, like it’s contagious.
“What’s so funny?” Kojiro asks as he leans forward on the bar, absolutely enamoured.
Kaoru’s laughter subsides, and he takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “No, it’s just… it’s nothing,” he says, still smiling, and then he gestures down at the glass and asks, “Can I—?”
“Please.”
Kaoru lifts the glass to his lips and takes a sip. He closes his eyes as he tastes it, and Kojiro is glad that Kaoru can’t see the way he’s shamelessly staring at his mouth and his throat as he drinks, as he imagines what it would be like to press his lips against them, what they would taste like.
Kaoru finishes his sip with a resonant hum, and places the glass back down. There’s a thin moustache of foam lining Kaoru’s upper lip, but before Kojiro can tell him, Kaoru’s tongue swipes along it and back into his mouth. “That might be the best cocktail I’ve ever had in my entire life,” Kaoru says, opening his eyes slowly and looking up at Kojiro.
“I’m glad you like it,” Kojiro says, voice low and breathy. They’re both leaning over the bar now, their faces inches from each other. Kojiro can smell the Ume Shu on Kaoru’s breath, and his eyes keep dropping to Kaoru’s lips, still glossy with the alcohol.
“Kojiro?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you for one more piece of dating advice?”
“Of course.”
They’re whispering to each other now, for some reason, and despite the noise in the bar, the music and the chatter, it feels like they’re the only two people in there. It feels like they’re the only two people in the world at this moment.
All of his senses are drowning in Kaoru.
“How do I let my date know that I want them to kiss me?”
Kojiro doesn’t realise he’s been holding his breath until it races out of him all at once. He’s having trouble processing the question, because this feels like a dream, this feels like something that only happens in movies, and he’s hoping that he’s not imagining it, because he wants it so badly to be real. “Well…” he starts, but then swallows hard, and tries to steady his voice. “Eye contact is really important.”
“Eye contact. Got it.” Kaoru’s a fast learner, with his eyes already burning into Kojiro’s. It’s almost too intense; it’s absolutely terrifying. But Kojiro can’t look away.
“And, um… you want to bring attention to your lips. You can touch them, or… bite them.” Kaoru nods, and then he raises a finger to rub across his bottom lip. Even though Kojiro hasn’t had a drop of alcohol, he suddenly feels drunk and light-headed. “And, um… you should look at my—their lips too.”
Kaoru doesn’t acknowledge Kojiro’s little slip-up out loud, but he does smirk and let his eyes drop down to Kojiro’s lips. “Like this?” he asks innocently, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.
“Yes. Yep. That’s perfect.”
“Anything else?” Kaoru asks, and somehow he’s even closer now, close enough that Kojiro can—
“You should touch them,” he murmurs soft and low, and he reaches out to tuck a stray piece of Kaoru’s fringe behind his ear. Kaoru’s eyes flutter closed, and he leans into Kojiro’s touch where his fingers linger at the edge of his jaw, humming and smiling with content, and it would be so easy for Kojiro to keep leaning forward, to close the distance between them, and—
“Kojiro.”
He recognises Oka’s stern tone from behind him immediately, and he jerks his hand away from Kaoru’s face and takes one big step back from the bar. His heart is pounding in his chest. Kaoru looks mortified, and Kojiro feels sick because this is not how this was supposed to go. Oka’s standing beside him, arms crossed and fuming, and it starts to sink in that Kojiro might have really fucked up this time.
“I need you on table service, Kojiro.”
“But—”
“Go,” Oka orders, making it clear that there will be no further discussion on the matter.
Kojiro gives Kaoru a final look; tries to say I’m sorry, I’ll be right back, please don’t leave, I just found you, please don’t leave with his eyes. But Kaoru’s expression is far-off and unreadable, and he can feel Oka’s eyes burning into the side of his head. “I’m sorry,” is all he can think to say, before he grabs a tray and walks away.
The next five minutes pass in a blur, and yet he somehow manages to collect empty glasses and take most of the orders without making any mistakes (although table four has to repeat their orders at least three times for him before he gets it right). Between serving tables he does his best to take glances back at the bar. He feels like a crazy person; feels desperate to make sure that Kaoru doesn’t leave before he can apologise properly.
Each time he looks, Kaoru’s still sitting there.
Don’t worry. He’s not going to leave, Kojiro tells himself.
He finally finishes taking the order at table six, and returns to the bar to deliver the orders to Oka.
His heart stops.
Kaoru isn’t there.
“Where’d he go?” he says in shock, standing frozen behind the empty stool. He can see Kaoru’s glass sitting empty on the bar, a few yen tucked underneath.
“What?” Oka is busy making a round of Love Potions, and doesn’t seem particularly interested in answering Kojiro’s question, giving him only a quick glance before returning to his task.
“The man that was sitting here. Where’d he go?” Kojiro feels knots start to form in his stomach, feels bile start to rise in the back of his throat.
“I don’t know, Kojiro.” Oka barely looks at him when he speaks. “He just left.”
“And you didn’t stop him?” Kojiro knows he sounds hysterical. He can feel it as everyone in the bar starts to turn and stare at him, but he doesn’t care. He only cares about finding Kaoru, now.
Oka places the mixer down on the bar, finally looking at Kojiro. “I’m a little busy working, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Fuck this,” Kojiro grumbles. He unties his apron and throws it behind the bar, narrowly avoiding hitting Oka in the face, before turning and heading for the entrance.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Oka yells from behind him.
“I’m taking my break!” he yells, without looking back. He knows he’ll have to beg Oka to not fire him tomorrow, but he can’t let Kaoru get away. Not when he’s finally found what he’s been looking for, all this time.
Someone great.
When he throws open the door to the bar and steps outside, the cold winter air hits him like a truck. Without his scarf and coat, it’s as though someone has tipped a bucket of cold water over his head. He looks down the street to the left, and to the right, trying to work out which direction to head in, but there’s no sight of Kaoru in either direction. Shit.
“Are you looking for me?”
Kojiro spins on his heels so fast that he nearly loses his balance, but he’s relieved to see Kaoru there behind him, leaning against the brick wall, with his arms wrapped around himself to keep him warm. “I thought you’d left.”
Kaoru shakes his head. “No, I just needed to get some fresh air. That drink you made me was pretty strong. Plus, I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with your boss glaring at me the whole time.”
Kojiro groans. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“I think I should be the one apologising,” Kaoru says, taking a step away from the wall towards Kojiro.
Kojiro shakes his head. “He’ll get over it.”
“He looked pretty mad.”
“I told you,” he says, taking a step forward now, “Most people find it hard to stay mad at me for long.” Kojiro smiles, to reassure Kaoru that there’s nothing he needs to worry about. Kaoru smiles back, and there’s something hanging in the air between them, something that feels like excitement and anticipation. It feels crazy, but it feels right.
It feels great.
Kojiro doesn’t know how long they stand there, smiling at each other, before Kaoru finally speaks. “Well, I also wanted to say thank you for the dating advice. Even though we got interrupted.” Kaoru makes a point of biting his lip then, and he lets his own gaze drop to Kojiro’s lips for a moment before looking back into his eyes with a fiery intensity that makes Kojiro’s knees go weak. “I was kind of hoping we could pick up where we left off?”
That’s all it takes. Kojiro wastes no time in closing the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Kaoru, holding him tight as he crushes their lips together in a searing kiss. He feels Kaoru throw his arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as they breathe each other in, parting their lips to taste each other. Kaoru tastes so sweet, like plum wine and peaches, and the faintest hint of metal from his lip piercing. His kisses burn like fire; fierce, but sure and steady at the same time. It makes Kojiro’s head spin.
They finally break to breathe, resting their foreheads together as they hold each other close. “I think you’re great,” Kojiro sighs out against Kaoru’s lips. Kaoru snorts in response, as though he doesn’t believe him. “No, really,” he reiterates, rubbing their noses together, because Kaoru needs to know that it’s true, “You’re great. Will you go on a date with me?”
Kaoru chuckles at that. “I already am, remember? Two dates, actually.”
“Right,” Kojiro nods, still out of breath, recalling the fake-but-apparently-not-fake dates they’d agreed to go on earlier, “Can I have your number then?”
Kaoru reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black business card, embossed with purple lettering that reads ‘Sakurayashiki Kaoru, Digital Calligraphy Design’, plus his phone number and email address. Kojiro reads the man’s name over in his head again, and then one more time before something clicks—
“Sakurayashiki…” he murmurs to himself, recalling the way Kaoru had laughed in the bar earlier, “So that’s why you were—?”
“Yeah,” Kaoru says, blushing and looking away for a moment. “I’m not normally one to believe in fate or anything, but… when you told me the name of that drink it kind of felt like a sign. Like I’d been hit with Cupid’s arrow or something.”
Kaoru immediately cringes, like he thinks what he said is completely absurd. It is, but Kojiro also thinks it’s adorable. “That’s so dumb,” he can't help but say as he tries to hold back a laugh.
“Shut up—” Kaoru scoffs, but Kojiro silences him with another kiss. It doesn’t last long, much to Kojiro’s dismay.
They hear someone clear their throat loudly—too loud not to be trying to get their attention—and they break apart quickly to look in the direction of the sound. There’s a man standing there, in a faded hoodie and ripped jeans. “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says, looking down at his phone and then back up at Kaoru, “But did you say Sakurayashiki? I’m supposed to meet him for a date here tonight.”
Kojiro opens his mouth to tell the guy to fuck off, but Kaoru beats him to it before he can. “Nope. Must have heard wrong. I already have a date for Valentine’s Day,” he says, smiling wide at Kojiro before pulling him in for another kiss.
Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad after all, Kojiro thinks.