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Ryuki and Date like to go out when they're together. Date loves to hit up new bars, clubs, restaurants, or any place really, and meet new people, see new parts of his home and its surrounding areas that he normally doesn't. He's social and sentimental like that. Ryuki, on the other hand, enjoys the routine of it, and likely the nostalgia, too. If Date had to guess, it’s probably reminiscent of getting dressed up and going to socialite parties with his family, but insofar as the similarities are passing instead of debilitating. And if Date really wants to address the elephant in the room, he’d point out that Ryuki is better at pulling himself together when it’s for someone else and/or there’s an audience involved.
There's just one small problem.
Like all of Kaname Date’s more current issues, it stems from his true body. He's trying to get acclimated to it, but there are still days when he combs through his hair and expects it to be longer, when he ducks his head because he's used to being a few inches taller, when he goes shopping and drifts to the racks with the wrong clothing size. It no longer freaks him out like it did in the beginning, but Date would be lying if he said he was used to looking this way. In his mind, for some goddamn reason, he still sees himself in Saito Sejima's body - and trust him, there have been way too many late night conversations with Aiba on the horrors of that insight, so Date tries not to ruminate on it anymore.
Bottom line: it always hits him out of left field when a server he's been chatting back and forth will innocently ask, "Are you and your son celebrating anything tonight?"
Then Date will have to come to terms with the fact he's a grizzled 40-something playfully chatting with a scrawny 20-something, so it's not weird for that age gap to look even bigger, at a glance. This body he's in shows his age and multiplies it thanks to a litter of scars across wrinkles. Even if it didn’t, both men have gray (biological) eyes that's only a shade apart as well as unruly black hair that could be cut from the same head. Sure, Date's got a longer face and his chin is more defined and larger than Ryuki's, but underneath all the scarring, he shares a similar nose. They bear more than a passing resemblance.
So yeah, Date has to admit it's an honest mistake, but does it need to happen every single time they go out alone together?!
They’ll go to a little hole-in-the-wall Gen was raving about, and as they’re seated, the waitress will hit them with a, "We don't get a lot of fathers and sons here." Or they’ll go to a bar during June and Date will order a rainbow shot tray for Ryuki, cause his taste in alcohol is garbage anyways so might as well get the cheapest thing that’ll get him drunk, and someone from the table next to them will tap Date on the shoulder and say, "It's nice that you're supporting your son!" They’ll go to a fancy restaurant in spring, and without fail, as the menus get put down, the waiter will fix his tie - they’re always wearing some fancy, boring tie that, despite costing Date’s salary, will not stay down properly - and the the man will ask, "Are you celebrating your son's graduation?" And god help them if they go out one Sunday and aren't paying attention to the date, because then the unprompted, "I wish my kid would take me out for Father's Day somewhere this nice," will cause one of them to nearly choke on air.
What’s truly aggravating is that there's no good way to respond. This isn’t a situation Date’s had a lot of experience with, okay? And it's not like he can look to Ryuki for an answer. He normally just awkwardly refuses to make eye contact or, if it’s the rare instance where he’s on the receiving end, ducks his head and hurries through the interaction. Sometimes, when he's had a few drinks, he'll laugh darkly and play along with more than a bit of bite - that normally is the fastest solution, although it causes the waiter to cast Date a sympathetic or pitying look, like he's dealing with an unruly teenager. But both of them are usually stone-cold sober when the innocent question pops up, and it's almost always directed at lucky, lucky Date.
Tonight is different.
Date, like usual, had paid little attention to the calendar. He counts himself lucky that he’s never forgotten a birthday or major holiday, but between taking care of Mizuki, looking at high schools she might want to apply to next year, figuring out where exactly he fits into Hitomi and Iris’ lives, and being a full-time detective and ABIS agent, things slip through the crack. All he knows is that it’s Friday, Aiba’s watching Mizuki for the night, and he’s meeting up at Ryuki’s place to hang for a bit before they grab dinner. He’s got the essentials down. He's confident of that much as he knocks on Ryuki's door.
The sight of Ryuki holding two glasses of white wine is unexpected, but not unwelcome.
Off Date’s quizzical expression, Ryuki explains, “It’s been a year since we started working together, Mister Date.”
Date takes the offered glass and clinks it against Ryuki’s. “Right,” he says as coolly as he can, aiming for suave over clueless.
He knows by the fact Ryuki had left the wine in the kitchen that he only intended for a congratulatory toast. But from one sip, Date also knows it’s a good bottle, and he’s allergic to the idea of letting a good bottle, and an expensive one at that, go to waste. And it’s not like Ryuki was rushing them out the door, so there must be plenty of time until their dinner reservations. Which leads, predictably, to Date refilling their glasses too often and too quickly as they discuss everything and nothing.
They talk about casework, a new policy change and the shifting of form numbers, Date’s coffee date with Hitomi (skipping over a lot of details), how Mizuki’s doing (skipping over no details), a tangent on the book Ryuki’s been reading and why it’s bad (“No, I’m still gonna finish it - why wouldn’t I?”), somehow argue about the difference between ladders and stepladders, circle back to poetry recommendation, classic music, and then -
Date realizes the bottle is empty, and it hasn’t even been a half hour since they toasted. Well.
There’s no time to unpack that. With a muttered swear and hurried, "Thanks, Tama,” Ryuki is grabbing his jacket and Date’s hand. They’re at the door by the time Ryuki’s even bothering with an explanation.
“We need to go.”
"I can drive us," Date's mouth offers before his mind catches up.
But Ryuki must’ve talked with Tama over their private channel because the self-driving limo is already pulled up. Ryuki doesn’t say anything, just opens the door for him. Date takes the easy out and slides inside.
It is during this drive that a second revelation hits Date: because he’s such a gentleman, he’d been topping off Ryuki’s glass more frequently than his own. So while Date is comfortably tipsy, Ryuki is… past that point.
After being drinking buddies for the better part of a year, Date has discovered the different levels of drunk Kuruto Ryuki can get. At the very bottom is Tipsy - the standard lowering of inhibitions. He will occasionally reply to Tama out loud instead of mentally, will talk about himself with less prompting, and is more prone to getting absorbed in a conversation and completely losing track of time. Above that is Drunk. Whatever captures his attention will have his undivided focus for the next hour, minimum. Everything is a puzzle that Ryuki wants to solve. There are connections and tangents that he can be diverted to, if you are quick and clever about it. His speech will get louder, but won’t necessarily slur.
Then there is what Date likes to call the Golden Zone. Just a breath above Drunk, the Golden Zone is the sweet spot for Ryuki’s drinking as far as Date is concerned. It is Ryuki unfiltered in all of the best ways. Gone is the need to follow rules and be polite at all times. If you bore him, he will fuck off - even if you were in the middle of a conversation. Sometimes with a four-syllable explanation, but if he found you especially tedious, you will just be left with dead air. Ryuki has the confidence of a seasoned grifter and will befriend and charm anyone in a five mile radius. He can be a stubborn brat without remorse, all while looking like the cat who got the cream. He will be sarcastic and witty and an enormous tease. Date is a firm believer that you have not met Ryuki until you've met Golden Zone Ryuki. It's like speedrunning six levels of friendship and intimacy to see Kuruto Ryuki when he's no longer trying to impress you or hide parts of himself that he hates or finds useless.
And past that is Wasted, where Ryuki will talk ad nauseam about anything. The subject that normally comes up is his dead family. There is no navigating his train of thought. Also, there will be vomiting. Wasted Ryuki is, Date-confirmed, a Terrible No-Good Time.
Now, when they got in the car, Date was fairly certain Ryuki was only Drunk. Without warning, Ryuki stops twirling the bottle opener from the mini bar and wants details on a case Date worked on years ago - that's usually a solid sign Ryuki's crossed over from Tipsy to Drunk. Date indulges his questions to the best of his abilities, but he has the sinking suspicion his subordinate is asking Tama to fill in the lack of details. There's a suspicious amount of pausing, after all. But, regardless, in the time it takes them to drive through evening traffic and reach their destination, the rest of the wine must've finally caught up with Ryuki because he is dead-set in Golden Zone territory.
How can Date be so certain? It's only when Ryuki's at this level of inebriation that he'll thoughtlessly grab Date by his jacket labels, fondly mutter, "You're honestly such a mess," and button up his jacket properly. Let alone walk out of the car afterwards, like nothing happened.
Oh if he can keep Ryuki in this zone, tonight is going to be glorious.
The restaurant is swanky, because Ryuki really only operates at zero or one hundred, and tonight is a one hundred night. The place has a classic, secluded feel with its landscape paintings and various bookshelves lining the polished, wooden walls. A maître d' in a crisp white shirt and satin-looking vest (with matching tie, because heaven forbid someone skips the tie) leads them to the second floor, which has a huge cut-out in the center so people can see below. The two are taken to a corner booth with plush seats that encase half of the table. The maître d' places down the menus and promises to send their server over in a moment.
Date sits down. He can see why Ryuki chose this place. It's upscale but not loud, and the tables are spaced out generously to provide privacy. He bravely opens the menu and does not look at the few prices that are listed.
There's suddenly a weight pressing against his shoulder.
"Tired?" Date asks, glancing in his peripheral vision as he reads.
"Mm." Ryuki nuzzles his head a little deeper against him. "Just didn't really sleep these past couple days, and the lighting is dark here…"
Date hums noncommittally. Tries to find something on the drink menu that sounds good and isn't something he knows costs more than his car.
The pressure on his arm is gone. He can hear Ryuki shift in his seat, and then there's something draped across Date's lap.
Sure enough, he looks down and sees Ryuki wearing a shit-eating grin. His eyes aren't even drooping anymore. "Hey," he greets, looking straight up at him.
"Hey," Date greets back. Then, because he knows sober Ryuki would care, he adds, "You know, the server's gonna be here any minute."
"They've seen worse. Pretty sure they caught people giving blowjobs under the table."
Date readjusts his grip on his menu so that it doesn't drop. "How do you figure that?" he asks as innocuously as he can manage.
Ryuki wiggles an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy."
"That's why I asked?"
Like clockwork, the server - dressed identically to the maître d', down to the shoelaces - arrives. Date nudges the man in his lap with his knee.
"Can I get you started with some drinks, sir?"
"Yes, I'll have the house scotch, dry." Date snaps the drink menu shut. He looks down at Ryuki. "You gonna sit up and order?"
Ryuki doesn't move. "Brandy on the rocks, please."
Date places a hand on Ryuki's head and ruffles his hair. He looks back up at the server. "And he'll have a water with ice."
"Hey!"
"Alcohol is for people who can sit at the table like adults."
Ryuki huffs, so Date starts stroking his hair again.
If such behavior is out of the norm for this kind of establishment, the server doesn't let it show. The older gentleman is all polite eye contact and smiles as he finishes scribbling in his notepad. "I'll put those right in for you."
The server leans in to remove the wine glasses from the place setting. Date gives an awkward smile as the stranger gets an unobstructed view of the man resting in his lap.
The server replies with a short, breathy laugh. "Kids, right?"
“Sorry?” Date might’ve slipped past tipsy territory himself. His mind is failing to come up with any connections. Mizuki’s never given him a homemade phone charm or bracelet or anything that he’d be duty-bound to keep regardless of quality and that would instantly suss him out as a single-dad. He’s wearing his work clothes, but none of the tacky “Dad-fashion” shirts Iris had picked up for him. He’s completely thrown.
The server bashfully looks down at Ryuki, who’s taken this opportunity to fix Date with a Look that says, “Fucking Idiot” - it’s unclear whether the dig is directed at Date or the waitstaff though.
“Aren’t you his father?” the server asks.
Oh. Oh.
There’s many times Date will admit he’s accidentally obfuscated his relationship with the rookie for any outsider observer. The times he’s called him “kid” to piss him off ‘cause Ryuki was being annoying, or when he nagged said kid to take better care of himself and accidentally slipped into I’m Not Mad, Just Disappointed parental tone immediately spring to mind. But Date’s pretty fucking sure there is nothing fatherly about having an adult man rest his head centimeters from his cock while stroking his hair in a suggestive manner. God, all he has to do is touch Hitomi’s hand in public and people will ask how long they’ve been dating.
Something in him must snap, because instead of awkwardly bearing it, Date moves his hand lower to cradle Ryuki’s face, looks the server directly in the eyes, and says, "His daddy actually."
That breaks the poor server's countenance. His eyes widen to the size of the porcelain appetizer plates on the table, white and glistening. He flounders as he attempts to regain his professional composure. Neither he nor Date say anything for a long, pregnant pause.
No, it's Ryuki who speaks up first. Well, snorts actually. "You've never paid once on our dates. If anything, I'm your daddy."
Date lets his hand drop and glances down, server entirely forgotten. "Hey, being the daddy in a relationship is more than being fiscally-loose. It has to do with maturity,-"
"So still me."
"- Experience,-"
"Like sexual, general relationship, or life? Cuz you only have me beat in one, maaaaybe two of those."
"- And overall demeanor," Date insists. "And you," he ruffles Ryuki's hair, "are a goddamn pillow princess."
Ryuki shifts his elbows onto Date's lap. He lets a hand rest on either cheek, propping up his face. "If you're gonna be a brat, I'm not paying for your apartment anymore."
“Hey, I was making rent just fine before you came along -”
A sudden squeak from the floorboards causes both Date and Ryuki to instinctively whip their heads towards the sound - basic training, as it turns out, is not something even a few drinks and banter can break.
The server looks at his offending shoes as if they were murder suspects. He bows his head and with a bigger, more broken grin states, “I’ll get on those drinks.” Just like his speech, the man’s retreat is rushed.
Ryuki shifts his position and sits properly in his own corner of the booth. Well, mostly proper, if you ignore how his posture is tilted rather than straight. “That was kinda hot," he declares.
Date can’t help put poke fun at the nonchalant tone. “Only kinda?”
“Yeah. I mean, we don’t know yet if you actually convinced him you’re daddy or not.”
“Yet?” Date raised an eyebrow. He gestures in the direction the waiter fled. “That doesn't count as conclusive evidence? Don’t tell me you plan on Wink-Psyncing with him to be sure.”
Ryuki fixes him another Look. “There’s a much simpler solution, detective.”
“Enlighten me then.”
“Alright then.” Ryuki leans into Date’s personal space and speaks in a hushed whisper. “We just have to wait and see what he comes back with: brandy or water.”