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Ulquiorra sat his makeup mirror down on the kitchen bar and opened his kit. He eyed his reflection, pushing back his bangs, when he heard the sound of Shūhei’s motorcycle engine rumble outside the apartment.
“He’s early.” He took out his eyeliner pen. Shūhei’s punctuality had always been a valued commodity to Ulquiorra.
Before Ulquiorra could start outlining his eye, his phone buzzed. The icon that appeared was a picture of Shūhei tossing his skillet with a look of deep concentration. Ulquiorra had taken it to show his mother his new sous chef when the cafe opened. Shame he hadn’t known at the time the ridiculous clown he had hired would adore his mother. And vice versa.
Ulquiorra answered the call, “Hello, Hisagi.”
“Hey, Ulqu! I’m outside.” The engine turned off.
Ulquiorra put the phone on speaker and began to outline his right eye. “You have a key, come up.”
“Oh, look at you being all hospitable.” Shūhei chuckled then Ulquiorra heard the street door unlock.
“On second thought, disregard that. Stay outside in the cold where you belong, mongrel.” Ulquiorra ended the call and resumed his work. He would have a perfect cat’s eye.
A few seconds later the apartment door opened, and Shūhei stepped inside. From his peripheral, Ulquiorra saw him shut the door and unlace his boots.
“Hey, so any idea which place you wanna go to grab dinner?” Shūhei walked into the apartment and went to stand on the other side of the counter. He leaned against it, watching Ulquiorra.
“I assumed we would be going to Stark’s. The food is good, the drinks are strong, and I enjoy the floor pillow arrangements.” Ulquiorra finished one eye and moved to the other.
Shūhei chuckled and shifted his weight . He wore his usual leather jacket and a sleeveless black top underneath. The choker had made its reappearance, and Ulquiorra wondered if Shūhei was going to start dressing like a punk again. He’d missed their complimentary outfits.
“Yeah, Stark’s sounds good.” Shūhei stepped away from the counter to look out the window.
Ulquiorra put his eyeliner away and moved to draw in his tear tracks. He was careful as he worked. “How are your arms, Shūhei?” It still bothered Ulquiorra that Shūhei had been hurt by that Gilga fool.
“They’re fine. Scabbed over.” He turned around and walked back over.
“Good.” Ulquiorra moved to apply his lipstick. “How is Kazeshini?”
Shūhei groaned. “Insane. He fucking wrecked my curtains in the bedroom because I was late feeding him.”
Ulquiorra snorted and almost smudged his lipstick. “You wanted a cat.”
“I wanted a fuzzy little snuggle machine who would lay in my lap while I wrote my blog! Not some asshole that wrecks my stuff.” Shūhei sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I dunno. Maybe I need to bond him with Haineko.”
Ulquiorra arched his brow as he closed his kit . “Haineko?”
“The woman I’ve been seeing has a cat. Maybe Kazeshini’s lonely. Sometimes cats need other cats.” Shūhei shrugged.
“Maybe. Don’t you live alone, Shūhei?” Ulquiorra made his way to the door, sitting down on the vestibule to lace his own boots. Shūhei also seemed like he needed other people.
Shūhei sat beside Ulquiorra to slip on his boots . Ulquiorra could smell cigarette smoke on his jacket, but it was subtle. He wondered how Shūhei always managed to avoid smelling like an ashtray.
“Yeah and my complex is a small one. My floor only has three apartments, and both my neighbors moved. No one new’s showed up.” He stood and eyed Ulquiorra, a grin spreading across his lips. “What? You wanting a roomie, Ulqu?”
“God no.” Ulquiorra snorted as he stood, taking his keys off the rack. “But maybe you can move in with your girlfriend.”
Shūhei grinned. “You sure? I’d be great company, and we can cook together.”
Ulquiorra fixed him with a hard look. “Don’t ruin a perfectly good friendship. I’d kill you in three days.” He opened the door and started down the stairs. “Lock the door.”
“Three? Huh, I feel kind of insulted you wouldn’t do it in an hour, Ulqu! I thought we were friends?” He laughed as they made it onto the sidewalk.
Ulquiorra locked the street door and eyed Shūhei. He contemplated going back upstairs, but he had promised, and they did deserve to celebrate a little. It wasn’t like Ulquiorra had anything else to do.
“How well do you know this Inoue woman?” Ulquiorra decided to change the subject.
Shūhei’s brows arched, and the humor shifted to something serious as they started the walk to Stark’s. He slipped a hand in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, lighting up.
“I’ve known her for a while. She dates a friend of mine.” He took a long drag, blowing the smoke away from Ulquiorra. “She’s got a good work ethic. You seriously never talked to her?”
Ulquiorra pressed his lips thin. Of course he hadn’t! What reason did he have? He tended to avoid speaking to customers after… one bad experience really did ruin the whole thing, didn’t it? He wasn’t interested in repeating any bizarre liaisons with customers.
“You know I don’t… like to leave the kitchen, Shūhei.” Ulquiorra watched the concrete, noting interesting cracks.
Shūhei made a thoughtful noise and took another drag from his cigar e tte. “Yeah, I know. It’s fine. We should get you more socialized though.”
Ulquiorra snorted. Since when was he a cat? He was socialized fine.
“Perhaps you’re too social, Shūhei.” Ulquiorra countered as they stopped outside of the Coyote.
Shūhei laughed and put his cigarette out, putting the butt in the pack. “I think you’re being an ass, Ulqu.”
“Bite me.” Ulquiorra felt the edges of his lips twitch as he opened the door to the bar.
“Nah, you’re too salty for me.” Shūhei chuckled.
Ulquiorra rolled his eyes as the hostess walked them to a small room. He could smell hookah smoke. Stark was there .
Ulquiorra had met the man a handful of times when he used to frequent the Coyote. Stark was… Ulquiorra didn’t mind him. The man was perpetually tired, but had a sharpness to him if you could catch his interest. And he was attractive. For an old booze hound who played darts all day and sucked a hookah.
C ome to think of it, was Stark single? He had a daughter.
Wait. Shit.
Ulquiorra pressed his fingers to his forehead and mumbled, “ We need sake.”
~*~
After the first few rounds, Ulquiorra felt pleasantly buzzed. Their food arrived, and they ate. Another couple of rounds went by, and Shūhei was laughing at something Ulquiorra wasn’t sure about. He was certain his friend had just stared off into space and started giggling to himself.
“Mmm, you know, Ulqu.” Shūhei slurred as he leaned across the table. He took a bite of Ulquiorra’s shrimp. “We really need to get you laid.”
Ulquiorra arched a brow and took another drink of sake. His cheeks burned and focusing was getting difficult. He put the sa u cer down.
“I’ve told you, Shūhei.” He swallowed and pushed back his bangs. “I’m not interested in blind dates.”
“No, no!” Shūhei leaned across the table again, pressing his fingers to Ulquiorra’s lips. He blinked and pulled his hand back to eye the lipstick smudge. “Shit, my bad. But no, not dates. Just sex!”
Ulquiorra frowned and watched Shūhei pour them both another drink. He took the saucer and threw it back. It burned.
“Dios. Why are you obsessed with that?” He leaned his elbow on the table and stared at Shūhei.
“Because I’m your friend!” Shūhei threw his arms out, red-faced and happy. “And I wanna see you happy an’ healthy!”
“And sex is going to make me healthy?” Ulquiorra didn’t really see the correlation, but to be fair, he wasn’t seeing much of anything but the smoke whirls at that moment.
“Pfft, of course!” Shūhei nodded and picked up the sake bottle for another pour. “It releases all these… these… fuck, you’re smart. What’s sex release?”
Ulquiorra fixed Shūhei with a hard look as he took his next drink. “You’re drunk, Shūhei.”
“Yeah! But so’s you!” Shūhei let out another loud laugh.
“I am.” Ulquiorra agreed with a nod and finished his plate. His vision swam. “I think that’s enough.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Shūhei flopped back into the pillows. “But we should still get you laid! You’re too cranky.”
Ulquiorra pressed a hand to his mouth as he tried to fight back the hiccup. It turned into a burp and he scowled. “I am not cranky.”
“Are too.” Shūhei waved his hand in front of his face. “I think I’m drunk.”
Ulquiorra snorted and pulled out his wallet to pay the bill. He struggled to his feet then and walked around to collect Shūhei.
“Up.”
Shūhei gripped Ulquiorra’s arm as they struggled to get him to his feet together . He was taller than Ulquiorra and outweighed him, but Ulquiorra managed to ho ist Shūhei up to stumble toward the front of the bar.
“Should probably call Izuru to come get me. Can’t drive.” Shūhei rested his cheek on Ulquiorra’s head. “Oh, your hair smells nice.” He sniffed it. “Super nice. You get a new shampoo?”
Ulquiorra struggled to keep upright as Shūhei tried to climb him. Someone was nice enough to open the door for them. Once they were outside, Shūhei straightened and staggered a beat.
“You can sleep in the guest room.” Ulquiorra watched the world swirl around him a moment.
“That’s so nice!” Shūhei leaned down to bunt Ulquiorra. Then he made a loud noise that made Ulquiorra whirl around ready for a fight. “We should get tattoos!”
Ulquiorra stared at Shūhei and tried to concentrate on his face. It was difficult to find the right one when all three of Shūhei were wobbling. Tattoos? Really? Ulquiorra wasn’t sure if that was the alcohol making him misunderstand Japanese or not. Even worse was the fact that it sounded like a great idea.
“Tattoos?” Ulquiorra lifted his head.
Shūhei nodded with enthusiasm and had to pause, holding his head. “Tattoos!”
Ulquiorra looked down the street toward the parlor: it sounded like the best idea Shūhei had ever had. “Tattoos.”
Shūhei cheered and grabbed Ulquiorra’s arm as the two of them stumbled down the sidewalk toward the tattoo parlor. Ulquiorra leaned against Shūhei as they made their way inside.
The parlor was bright white and covered in framed images of blurry designs. It smelled like antiseptic and the man behind the counter was hot. Maybe. Ulquiorra wasn’t sure. He was dizzy.
“Hey!” Shūhei leaned on the counter and beamed. “We wanna get tattoos!”
The man looked between the two of them and for a brief moment of crippling clarity, Ulquiorra thought they would be turned away. Then the clerk shrugged and nodded. “Sure, alright.”
Shūhei grinned wider and jabbed his finger at his cheekbone. “I want one on my face!”
Ulquiorra stared. “Hisagi, be sensible!”
“No! I’m gonna look hot!” Shūhei thumped Ulquiorra in the back. “And I want it to look like this guy’s!” He pulled out his phone, struggled with it, yelled about technological overlords, then realized he was tapping at the back of the phone, turned it over, and pulled up a picture of a shirtless man who Ulquiorra needed to file away for later. Why did Shūhei know so many hot guys? Why was something at the base of Ulquiorra’s brain saying that was a bad thing? “But on my face!”
The tattoo arti s t nodded and looked behind Shūhei to Ulquiorra. “And you? Do you want a face tattoo, too?”
“God no.” Ulquiorra shook his head. His hand lifted, and he patted his chest over his left pectoral. “Here.”
“Fine. And do you want the 69?” The artist pulled out two sheets of paper.
“No.” Ulquiorra shook his head and stepped toward the counter. He leaned on it for support. “I want...” What did he want? Oh! “I want a four.”
The artist looked up. “A four?”
Ulquiorra nodded. “Yes. As a numeral.”
Shūhei leaned down to bump their heads together. Ulquiorra could still smell the sake on his breath. “Ulqu, you know what fours mean in Japan, right?”
“Of course I do, Hisagi.” Ulquiorra pushed his face away. “They mean death.”
Shūhei nodded. “Yeah, okay. S’long as you know what you want.”
“I do.” Ulquiorra nodded his head and did not hit the floor despite his body’s insistence.
“Alright. Then you take the second room.” The artist pointed to two curtained-off sections.
Shūhei pushed away from the counter and yanked Ulquiorra along. Ulquiorra stumbled but remained standing. Somehow. Shūhei let him go and dropped onto the chair.
“This is gonna be the best thing ever! I’ve been meaning to get this since Kensei and I met! S’gonna be awesome!” Shūhei pumped his fists.
Ulquiorra sat down on the other chair, watching as a different artist came in. He wasn’t entirely sure what they said. His comprehension for Japanese was starting to slip. He felt a little tired.
“Take your shirt off, please.” The second artist was a woman, and also pretty. Maybe Shūhei was right? Maybe he did need to get laid.
Ulquiorra obliged, pulling off his shirt. “Hisagi, you’re right.”
“Damn right I am! ‘bout what?” Shūhei leaned around the curtain to squint at him. He was swaying.
“You know what.” Ulquiorra rubbed his forehead.
Shūhei laughed. “Ohhh, that! Yeah! Hey, we should hook you up with this guy I know! He’s super hot! Kinda a jerk! Dyes his hair blue and never wants to wear a shirt!”
“Sir, you’re going to have to be quiet if you want this on your face.” The other artist pulled Shūhei back into the chair.
Ulquiorra snorted. He remembered a hot guy with blue hair and wonder e d if they were related… eh. That was a sober Ulquiorra problem.
“Is this design fine?” The female artist showed him the paper.
Ulquiorra looked at it. It was a G othic 4 and it… it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It looked so right, as if it was a missing piece of himself he’d never known was gone.
“Yes.” He gripped the arms of the chair. “Yes.”
Ulquiorra laid his head back as she laid the transfer paper over his chest. She asked him about the location and he nodded. He had never known something to be so right before. So perfect.
The tattoo gun started and Ulquiorra was aware of a needling sharp pain. He opened an eye to watch the woman work on the outline. The black stood stark against his pale chest, and he watched blood well up as she wiped it away.
The haze of inebriation took over again, and he shut his eyes. Soon enough the pain melded into an almost pleasant kind of numbness. It felt… good in a way he wasn’t sure he cared for. Like a good itch that had gone on far, far too long.
His body relaxed and he drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, Ulquiorra woke up to Shūhei peering down at him with a ga u ze patch on his face. He smiled at Ulquiorra.
“We’re not virgins anymore, Ulqu!” He laughed.
Ulquiorra blinked, confused. “ Que? ”
“You heard me!” He laughed louder and yanked Ulquiorra up.
The tape holding the gauze on Ulquiorra’s chest pulled, and he winced, swatting Shūhei’s hand with a curse. Shūhei let go and leaned against the wall. Ulquiorra struggled back into his shirt. It might have been on backwards. He couldn’t be bothered to tell.
“Uh, are you ready then?” Izuru popped his head in through the curtain.
Ulquiorra blinked at him. “Why’s Kira here?”
“I called ‘im to walk us home because we’re both too drunk to be trusted!” Shūhei cheered. “We got drunk tattoos after all! And you!” He pointed at the artist who had done his. “You really shouldn’t tattoo drunk people.”
The man stared at him then shrugged. “I have your money, it’s on straight, you’re satisfied. Leave.”
Izuru flashed the man a look before Shūhei sauntered over and kissed his cheek. Izuru’s eyes widened, and he gave Shūhei the look instead.
“We need to go.” Izuru grabbed Shūhei and looked at Ulquiorra. “Chef.”
Ulquiorra pushed himself to stand and walked with the pair outside. He rubbed his for e head. There was a headache forming. He was really going to have a time when he sobered up and realized exactly what he’d done.
But, again, that was a sober Ulquiorra problem.
Izuru led them down the street back to the cafe, looking more and more uncomfortable as Shūhei leaned on him and continued to try to kiss him. Were they a thing? Didn’t Shūhei insist once he liked women? Had it changed?
“You’re drunk.” Izuru pushed against Shūhei’s side.
“Yeah, but you’re still hot. Even when there’s two of you.” Shūhei grinned.
Ulquiorra snorted and pressed his hand to the bricks by his apartment door as he fished around for his key.
“Kira.” Ulquiorra glanced over when he found the key and jammed it into the lock.
“Chef?” Izuru lifted his head.
“Hisagi needs a roommate. He’s lonely.” Ulquiorra unlocked the door.
“Uh, sure… Ulquiorra, do you need help up the stairs?” Izuru cocked his head.
Ulquiorra eyed them and shook his head before he took the fi r st two steps. His foot stumb l ed and he paused. “ Y es.”
“Alright. Shūhei, stand here.” Izuru let Shūhei go as he took Ulquiorra by the arm.
“No one can know about this, Kira.” Ulquiorra looked at him as they started up the steps.
“Of course not, Ulquiorra.” Izuru smiled, embarrassed and nervous looking. Good. He should be. “Of course.”
“Good. Because I’d have to kill you, and I like you.” Ulquiorra leaned against him. “You’re the best server I’ve ever had, and I like your broken plates.”
“… I’m glad, Chef.” Izuru took the key from Ulquiorra and unlocked the apartment door. “Goodnight, Ulquiorra.”
“Goodnight, Kira.” Ulquiorra stepped inside and closed the door, locking it. It took a few tries. The damn deadbolt was migrating in little triangles. Who gave it the right? Not Ulquiorra!
Ulquiorra sat about the difficult task of getting ready for bed completely wasted . This consisted of taking off his shoes. The minute he hit the mattress, he was out.