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“It is not a date,” Ishida snapped.
“I dunno, seems a lot like a date,” Daiya drawled. “Dinner? A movie? Staying over at your place? Anyone else would think it’s a date.”
“This is not dinner and a movie. This is carb loading and dance lessons, you fuck. And I’m only letting you stay over because I happen to have a couch and your place is halfway across the fucking city. Gas money doesn’t grow on trees, and teaching your cheap ass does not pay well. So stop saying it’s a fucking date,” Ishida snapped, parking his car with a squeal of rubber.
“Okay, bossman,” Daiya laughed, his voice soft and charming and infuriating.
“I don’t know why I bother,” Ishida hissed. “Okay, Oowada-san, your fucking chauffer has brought you here, let’s get a move on, reservation was ten minutes ago,” he grumbled, climbing out of his car.
Daiya followed suit, beaming. “You know I appreciate it, sensei, right? You’re quite the nice guy,” he ribbed gently, winking when Ishida turned to scowl at him. “Besides, I only took so long because I wanted to look nice for our date.”
“It is not a fucking date!” Ishida snarled, red rising in his face and hands clenched to keep them from wrapping around Daiya’s neck.
“It can be if you want it to be,” Daiya laughed again, pushing through the entryway doors and holding one open for a very red Ishida.
The host spoke up before Ishida could dissolve into further swearing. “Just the two of you, then?” he asked, pointing first at Daiya and then at Ishida.
“Yessir,” Daiya grinned, “just a night out on the town. Just dudes bein’ bros.” He threw an arm over Ishida’s shoulders. “Should be a reservation for my pal here, Ishida, he made it for us.”
“Oh, uh, yes, right this way sirs...” the host stammered, grabbing little laminated menus and doddering into the darkening restaurant.
“I’m going to murder you,” Ishida whispered, prodding Daiya’s back until he moved.
“You know you love me,” Daiya chuckled right back.
“Shut the fuck up or I’m leaving you here.”
“Can do, bossman.”
They caught up quickly and found the host setting their menus down at a little booth off to one side, the cheap vinyl peeling off the seats in places. A single candle lit this table in particular; all others had lamps above them.
“Your server will be here soon to take drink orders,” the host informed them, glancing between an obviously furious Ishida and an amused Daiya.
“What an excellent table,” Daiya finally said in response. “I think we got it from here, thanks.”
The host gave a nervous smile, and retreated quickly to his station at the front door.
“So, you took me to a sit-down joint?” Daiya asked, raising an eyebrow. “I understand that this is not a date in any way, but...are you sure this isn’t a date?”
“This restaurant has cheap all-you-can-eat ramen,” Ishida explained, still glaring daggers. “You’re gonna need carbs, and a lot of them, if you want to survive lessons tonight, class tomorrow, and the performance following.”
“So it has nothing to do with your fondness for bad boys with dark hair and darker pasts?” Daiya grinned again, resting his chin on one hand.
“I assure you, any fondness I could have had for your arrogant ass would have long worn away.” He opened his phone with a snap and began pointedly ignoring his student.
Daiya clutched dramatically at his chest. “You wound me, sensei.”
A waitress interrupted them, holding out a pad of paper and a pen. “You gentlemen want anything special to drink? We’ve got a selection of beer that pairs nicely with our ramen, very suitable comfort food...”
Daiya opened his mouth to suggest they both get beers, but Ishida rapped his knuckles on the table for attention.
“We will both be having water tonight. And if you don’t mind, he will be having the all-you-can-eat ramen, and I would just like a single bowl, please. We’re in a bit of a hurry.”
The waitress recovered very quickly. “Two waters, and what kind of ramen?”
“I would love whatever you like best, sweetheart,” Daiya smiled, eyes kind and soft.
“Your shoyu ramen for me,” Ishida grumbled, crossing his arms.
The waitress nodded. “It’ll just be a few minutes, then.” She gave Daiya a happy look before leaving.
“Dammit, stop flirting with the fucking waitress,” Ishida groaned, rolling his eyes. “If it’s not one fucking thing, it’s another.” He held up his phone again, mood more foul than ever.
“Aww, come on, if I can’t flirt with other people, then everyone will think we’re on a date,” Daiya said.
“Great. Flirt with fucking everybody then. I don’t care. They’re all your sweethearts now, great job.” Ishida slid angrily from the seat.
“Wait, where are you going?” Daiya asked, suddenly, finally worried.
“Bathroom,” Ishida bit out, stomping away.
He pushed the swinging door harder than he meant to, slamming it into the wall. He took a deep breath, and managed to lock himself into one of the stalls without too much more violence.
What an absolute piece of arrogant fucking shit, Ishida thought, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. What a complete asshole. Unmotivated trash, can’t see shit even when it’s slapped directly over his useless damn eyes...
Ishida grit his teeth, pushed his nails into his palms. The discomfort kept him from screaming. He pressed his fingertips into his temples, furious, ready to burst back out there full force and yell at Daiya...
Daiya. Ishida’s anger dropped down to a sour simmer. Daiya had only acted the way Daiya always acted. He knew that they weren’t dating, he knew the joke would infuriate Ishida simply because it wasn’t true...and that only made it worse. He flirted because he could, he embarrased Ishida because he could. They had no real ties between them. Daiya owed Ishida nothing in the way of romance. Daiya didn’t have to care.
Ishida cared way too fucking much.
He sat in silence for a long time, his head buzzing so quickly that he couldn’t feel, couldn’t react, couldn’t think. Why was he like this? Why did he let Daiya get to him?
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grabbed it out of instinct. He flipped it open, wondering if it was his brother.
u ok? food’s here
Ishida grunted in displeasure. He’d lost his appetite, just like he’d probably lost everything else with this fucking stunt.
Another buzz, moments later. This one looked like Daiya had put actual effort into typing it.
I’m gonna come get u, so u can yell at me in person
And of course his phone had to receive the text after a delay, because as soon as he clicked his phone shut, the bathroom door squealed open.
“Ishida, you in here?” Daiya called out.
“Fuck off,” Ishida grumbled, the acid drained out of him.
Daiya’s shoes tapped over to his stall. “Ishida, I’m sorry, okay? Just...come out and punch me again, like old times.”
Ishida sat quietly for another long moment, and then Daiya heard a sniffle.
“You weren’t supposed to fucking know.” Ishida’s voice cracked.
“Know what? Ishida?” Daiya rattled the stall door.
“You weren’t supposed to know I wanted to take you on a fucking date, asshole.”
Daiya stood in shocked silence, and Ishida continued.
“I thought maybe I could pretend you would date me, but you’ve made it pretty fucking obvious that dating me is your idea of a joke...” Ishida sniffed again.
“No, Ishida, fuck no!” Daiya rattled the door harder. “That’s not...I didn’t think you’d ever date me, so of course I had to bring it up, see your reaction! You said yourself that it wasn’t a date! Now let me in, for fuck’s sake, I will get down on this dirty fucking floor and crawl under the door if you force me.”
The latch clicked, and the door swung open. Ishida looked scared, shocked, eyes still full of tears.
“You actually like me?” he squeaked, wringing the bottom of his shirt. “I’m not...just a joke?”
“Never,” Daiya replied instantly, and stepped forward. “You’re so cute when you get mad, but...I didn’t know you took it so seriously.” He opened his arms, and pulled Ishida into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
Ishida breathed in Daiya’s scent, spicy cologne not quite masking a hint of musky sweat.
“You better be, asshole,” he growled, punching Daiya squarely in the stomach. He had little room to wind up, so it did little more than push a surprised little “oof” out of Daiya’s throat.
“Okay, I deserved that one,” Daiya agreed, still holding Ishida close.
“That’s for flirting with the waitress instead of flirting with me,” Ishida scowled, finally returning Daiya’s embrace.
“It won’t happen again...sweetheart.” Daiya exhaled the endearment against Ishida’s ear, using a voice that bordered on a moan.
“Don’t fucking ‘sweetheart’ me and think it makes everything better.”
“You’re right, that’s not an appropriate name to be calling my dance teacher,” he chuckled. “From now on, you’ll be sweetheart-sensei.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ishida groaned, squirming in Daiya’s grip.
“Okay, okay,” Daiya released him. “Just Ishida-sensei then.”
Ishida rolled his eyes, but took Daiya’s hands. “One on this hip...there, one here, holding my hand...good.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and then Ishida began to sway gently. Daiya followed suit, familiar with the dance pose.
“No, you lead me.” Daiya placed his hand on Ishida’s shoulder, and waited for Ishida to cup his hip in return. “I’ve learned my lesson. You can lead me all you want.”
And then they were pressed together, dancing slowly, swaying in time to their heartbeats. Daiya bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on top of Ishida’s hair.
“If I’m gonna lead, then...the next step is a little tricky...”
Daiya raised an eyebrow.
Ishida tipped up his chin, and in a blinding second, pressed his soft lips against Daiya’s mouth.
They stood there for a silent moment before pulling away, blush rising in Daiya’s cheeks and in Ishida’s entire face.
“So...it’s a date then?” Daiya smiled, still a bit breathless.
“Yeah, asshole, it’s a fucking date.”
“We’re kissing in the bathroom,” Daiya pointed out.
“Well, then let’s go eat our food and stop being in the bathroom,” Ishida tried to grumble, but his expression was too happy to trick Daiya.
“Lead me, sweetheart.” Daiya winked and held out his hand.