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Gen enters his bed chambers with a tickle of anticipation in his stomach. Today is going to be THE day he introduces himself to Earl Senku. He had seen him only once before, yet his striking face never left his dreams since then, no matter how many people he tried to court or had courting him. It was a long way to accept his feelings for what they were, and Gen is finally ready to act on them. Or be brutally rejected, whichever comes first.
It is strange that he knows so much about him whereas the young earl probably hasn’t heard so much as a rumour about Gen. As a lower-class baron, it makes sense as he doesn’t fancy attending the gentlemen’s nights, nor is he really welcome there. His reputation is lukewarm at best, and disappointing at worst. The youngest of Baron Asagiri’s three sons, Gen never stood out in any way. Not that it bothers him, as it leaves him more time and freedom to play around without expectations weighing on his shoulders. And today he plans to play around a lot.
His servant is already in the room waiting for him, prepared with a tub of heated water.
“Thanks, I’ll call for you again in an hour,” Gen smiles at the girl, who then bows and exits without saying a word. A silent one she is.
Gen swishes his hand in the water checking the temperature, and submerges himself, basking in the warmth and the light citrus aroma from the fragrant oils. After a good while passes with him just soaking, Gen takes the rough cloth to thoroughly scrub at his skin.
If Gen’s reputation ever took a toll, his appearance was never to blame. Gen bathes every day, and despite his low spending budget, he is crafty enough to accessorise and style his clothing so that it appears new and fresh every time. Gen had saved his best outfit for this day, never seen in public before. And mind you – he was careful not to appear in the same outfit twice when meeting someone. Gen’s father would sigh, wishing Gen would use his brilliant memory on something useful instead, like their textile business. But he was more interested in the final forms the fabrics took, not the plain sheets of cotton and linen.
Feeling that Gen has spent enough time in the bath, mostly due to the water turning cold, he finally steps out to dress himself. He slips on a simple robe before calling for his servant.
“Namari, you may come in,” Gen shouts through his cupped hand, and a few minutes later the girl enters with a few glass bottles in her carry-on basket. “I am wearing the embroidered blouse today. Please help me with the corset.” The girl nods, silently once more, and goes to fetch the needed items from the closet.
Meanwhile, Gen uncorks one of the bottles Namari brought in, and pours a little rose water with other steeped herbs and flowers onto his hand to pat on his face. One of the few luxuries he allows himself.
Namari helps Gen into the blouse. The white cotton fabric itself is unimpressive. However, the blue and violet threads embroidered to form delicate flowers and leaf vines brighten his skin. Now that his armour is on he is ready to be in his element, dazzling any and all onlookers.
He straightens out the creases in his sleeves and picks out a few loose threads from the collar and seams before nodding to himself in the mirror. Namari swoops in to tie a simple bow on his neck instead of a cravat.
Gen tries on two pairs of pants – a white pair and a lilac pair. After much deliberation, he goes with the violet as he’d look too much like a bride otherwise, considering all the other elements of his outfit are to be white. The corset is next – crisp and pristine, kept only for special occasions. Namari helps him tie the laces and with some dress shoes, the look is complete. Gen has to turn away from the mirror else he could spend an hour just admiring his silhouette.
Sure, his style may be more feminine than most men’s fashion. However, Gen knows his own allure. The trim waist the corset gave him looks striking combined with his sharp shoulders and the billowed sleeves sitting on his long arms. He allows himself a peak in the mirror, and suddenly, the nerves come crashing down on him.
“You are beautiful, you are witty, conversations are your forté,” Gen mumbles to himself, combing his hair backwards to tie a ribbon around his ponytail. The hour to leave is fast approaching, and his hand is too shaky for him to be on time. He calls for Namari once again to help him contain his hair and secure his mother’s brooch just above the ear.
—--
The hall is lavish, adorned with heavy-draped curtains and even heavier chandeliers. It is so bright that Gen closes his eyes upon entering for a brief second. Although Gen arrived fashionably late, apparently many of the attendees are even more fashionably late as the ballroom only has a few dancing couples with a small crowd standing around the buffet tables, conversing over glasses of sparkling wine.
Nevertheless, Gen swipes at his baby hair which has been bothering him the entire ride, and gracefully descends the stairs. He immediately notices a few eyes on him, but concentrates to look ahead to appear most effortless. His eyes do betray him, flitting the crowd in search of a particular earl.
And there he is.
Earl Senku stands confident, surrounded by a few notable names in the economic and academic circles. He appears to be explaining an idea of his, although Gen is not sure as he is too far away to hear them. He looks very dashing. Gen takes a deeper breath before forcing his glance back to his feet or he would misstep the last stair. He thinks Senku looks even better than the last time he saw him, which was a brief glimpse as he was out in town (and excluding his portrait Gen cut out of the newspaper and kept in his notebook). He thanks the ball’s dress code for his lovely attire – the simple white coat with some forest green slacks look spectacular on his frame.
The second the tips of Gen’s toes touch the floor he relaxes his shoulders. But Gen cannot rest yet, as the most crucial part is coming up and he needs to get it right. He puts on a slight show of looking around the room, slowly scanning the hall and all its people. His outstretched neck should look extra lovely today, and it would be a waste not to show it off. It may seem like no one is paying him any attention, but high society stabs you in the back whenever you breathe wrong, so it never hurts to be extra careful when the walls have eyes and ears.
After calculating the perfect moment, Gen approaches the group of men with confident strides, angling his walk so that he ends up standing right across from Earl Senku.
“Good evening gentlemen. I saw you having a lively conversation and I couldn't help but want to join. I am Gen Asagiri, son of Baron Asagiri. A pleasure to meet you.” As soon as the word ‘baron’ leaves his mouth, Gen notices a few of the men lose interest in their eyes. Well then, sucks to be them as will not be leaving.
“Oh, I‘ve heard of you!” exclaims a sturdy fellow, his brown wavy hair escaping the once-was style, looking just as wild as the energy of its owner. “Asagiri fabrics? Good stuff you have there!” Gen is immensely grateful for his inability to read the room. Just like that, Gen has secured his spot in the conversation.
“Precisely,” he smiles, “I’m surprised anyone has heard of us. We’re humble cloth and linen distributors. My father, brothers and I are in active discussions with Indian cloth suppliers, so hopefully we’ll be looking at a successful rebranding of higher quality basics and occasion wear fabrics.” Lie. He has never even looked at the papers, let alone participated in negotiations. However, his memory aids him well, supplying facts he has overheard briefly over one of his family dinners.
A few gentlemen offered some humble nods of acknowledgement, while others ignored his statement entirely. Gen could not care less about the others though, waiting to see how the man of the hour would react. The stocky man, introducing himself as Taiju Oki, happily rambles about something off-topic then takes the moment to briefly introduce everyone from the group. Shaking hands could not be more nerve-racking as Gen waits for Senku’s turn to come up.
“And this is my best friend here, Senku Ishigami! His research centre has been positively booming lately! What was it you were working on recently? Astrology?” Taiju faced his friend with confusion written on his face, and the deep laugh that escaped Senku’s mouth tinted Gen’s cheeks pink.
“Close, it's astronomy. I’ve been sponsoring a lot of space research, particularly in radiation and wavelengths which travel from the suns surrounding our galaxy. The results could have a tremendous impact on progressing technologies we use here on Earth.”
“Much impressive, I can’t say I know a lot about physics. You said suns? As in plural?” Gen kept his tone pleasant and showed just the right amount of interest without seeming daft. At least, he hopes he came across that way.
“Yes, plural. With our advanced telescopes now, we are able to see another galaxy from Earth, which contains millions of suns and even more respective planets. Results are still far from being accurate due to less than ideal photographic technology, but I am positive that a fair estimate may be complete within five years.” Senku has a very agreeable voice. Gen appreciates that he maintains respectful eye contact with him as he explains his findings and facts, which he understands little of.
“That sounds absolutely fascinating. I cannot wait to read more about it in the newspapers,” Gen just about finished saying when the host of the ball claps his hands to gain the attention of the attendees. Gen hardly noticed how much the hall had filled up while they were all exchanging pleasantries. After a long and rather boring welcome speech with a lot of grandeur and jokes Gen is not rich enough to relate to, it is finally time for social dancing.
And time to make his move.
He watches the majority of their group dissipate, inviting spouses and romantic interests to the floor. The orchestra is playing a lighthearted classical tune, perfect to start off the evening. It is still too early, as much of the crowd is still chatting with drinks in their hands, gawking at potential prey. There are a few groups of ladies standing in circles surrounded by their elderly chaperones, eyeing men that strike their fancy. Gen is glad to be a man, as he does not need watchful eyes accompanying him to meet people. Luckily, the meeting part is already over with.
He flicks his glance at Senku, who is still standing in their little circle after the majority left to invite their partners. He checks the direction of his gaze, and subtly turns to see Taiju dancing with a beautiful girl in a canary yellow dress, with huge smiles adorning both their faces. Back to Senku to figure out if the gaze is jealous or wistful. Might there be some romantic drama between them?
“For how well Oki introduced all the gentlemen here, he did not mention anything about himself,” Gen says, taking a small sip of his drink, “Who is his partner? Forgive me, I do not attend balls all too often and have trouble remembering faces.”
“I understand, I’m not a fan of these events either,” Thankfully, Senku is the one to respond to him, “That is his fiance, Yuzuriha Ogawa. They’ve been dancing around their feelings since they were children. They've only recently made it finally official.” A soft smile forms on his face as he speaks, and it tugs on Gen’s heartstrings. This man is attractive, smart and seems to have his heart in the right place? There has to be a catch, surely.
“That is very sweet,” Gen comments, then slips in the real question, “And what about your special someone? Are you planning on dancing today?” Senku scoffs, and Gen does not have enough time to drink in the smirk that graces his features for only a moment.
“Nothing like that, I don’t have time for lovers and dances.”
“I see, and yet you’re here?” Gen throws a challenging stare, meeting Senku’s eyes, who smirks again and replies, catching on to their little game.
“Solidarity, if nothing else. I could ask you the same.”
“No one has really caught my eye,” Lie. “And I hear the balls are good for networking.” A half lie. “It's a shame though, I think your group of admirers over there would be devastated if they heard the words you just uttered,” Gen lowers his voice and motions to the gaggle of girls that have been throwing glances in their direction and giggling for the past hour. No doubt hoping for an introduction to a dance.
“Are you positive they are not your admirers?” Senku downs the remains of his glass, and grabs another one from a tray the waiters have been carrying around all evening.
“Oh please, I am not even a baron with not much to my name,” Gen says, without much shame. Though his standing is undesirable in terms of good marriage and career prospects, Gen never attached his personality to his wealth. However, that didn’t mean that Gen never wished for a higher social position. “You on the other hand – a young, rich and handsome earl. Revolutionary academician, a man with good morals. Surely the list goes on?”
Gen tips his head to the side showing an innocent smile, looking at Senku from under his lashes. The earl also tipped his head, but to ponder over Gen’s compliments. It is not customary to flatter one so openly and is usually done in two cases: with a hidden agenda or to express interest. No need to mention that Gen’s motivation is the latter.
“Disappointing others does not bother me,” Senku finally speaks, “I’m sure those ladies deserve someone who has the heart for love, who can dedicate both time and effort into building relationships.”
“That you say, however, I suspect they do not plan to move from that table the entire night in wait.” Gen takes a bold step in Senku’s direction, and Senku’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline.
“And what do you propose I do about that?” He asks with a hint of tease in his voice, looking Gen up and down.
“Well, I suggest a decoy may discourage further interest,” Gen replies and takes his time to bow and extend his hand, full of grace and a tad of seduction. “Might I invite you to this dance, Lord Ishigami?”
Gen feels his heart slow down, just like everything around him in anticipation of the Earl’s answer. He cannot read his face that well, and is almost bracing himself for rejection. A couple of long, tantalising moments pass by, and Gen can feel a droplet of sweat run down his back when his hand finally feels some pressure. Gen looks up to Senku’s cocky smirk and his hand placed comfortably in his own.
“Let's see how good of a lady repellent you claim to be.”
Gen has to look down for a second to compose himself, but he recovers quickly and leads them both right to the centre of the floor with his chest out and head high. A few couples make way, and suddenly many more eyes are on them as they begin to whisper and gossip about this unlikely combination. Gen only shows a reserved smile on his face, and luckily Senku is acting just as mysterious as before, which makes this coupling exude an air of mischief, mislead. Maybe they just work too well. And they've only just taken their spots on the floor, waiting for the song to change.
Gen is a little surprised that Senku assumed the position of the follower, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in Gen’s outstretched hand, letting him lead. Perhaps he presumed the earl would be more conservative in partner dynamics, at least from what he has seen of him being assertive in the matters of academics. This matters not, as Gen had practised both the parts extensively, but he suspects the Senku might not have had the same experience. The pressure is thus on.
The melody shifts to something a bit more fast paced, dramatic, and Gen takes the first powerful step, feeling Senku slide his foot in tandem. Not knowing the steps of a dance is not an issue, as all self-respecting members of society learn them all inside out. The matter is how well a pair could mesh together, aligning their quick footwork, agile spins and most importantly, spatial awareness and coordination. This first step felt so satisfying that Gen puffs up even more and begins to lead with all the confidence of a fourteen-year-old pubescent boy.
And how fun it is!
Earl Senku is around his height, maybe a little shorter but who can tell in these dress shoes anyway; which makes cruising through the floor and between other couples so much easier. They swerve, dodging spinning ladies and swinging hands of the other dancers. They skip when they need to take a step and Gen pulls Senku in just a bit closer to avoid collisions. Gen is sure they have so many eyes on them, but he does not care as much as he usually does.
He hears Senku snicker and Gen’s heart soars. A wide, happy and very real smile escapes from under all the pretence and preparation for the evening, and Gen lets everything go to enjoy this moment. He meets Senku’s eyes which seem to sparkle under all those chandelier refractions and laughs right back. Their faces are close and both are panting from the dance. Gen must be possessed by some drunk spirit of joy, and he’s only had one glass!
The crescendo is coming. Gen’s feet are light and he knows he is going to nail that spin. He takes Senku’s hand from his shoulder as per the dance move and lets go. Senku steps back and lowers in a small curtsy along with the rest of the ladies. Their eyes meet again in a challenging stare, and without sharing a word, Gen places his hands on Senku’s waist and lifts.
They fall spectacularly.
Gen did not manage to balance on his feet and slipped mid-spin, dropping on his rear with Senku crashing right on top of him.
A collective gasp sounds through the hall and the music seems to halt.
Gen squeezes his eyes shut in shame, allowing himself one deep breath before he needs to face reality. He peeks open one eye to see Senku cupping a hand over his face, flushed and ruffled.
He doesn’t even register the warmth under his nose, surprised that the Earl is staring at his lips. In this situation? Does he–
A trickle of blood drops past his mouth and he knows it is over. Gen bolts to his feet and runs like a coward with his tail tucked between his legs. He didn’t even help Senku stand just then, what a disaster. Gen hides on the furthest balcony, feeling the need for some fresh air to whip some sense into him. His nose is dripping, and he has no choice but to wipe it with his sleeve. His favourite blouse is now ruined. His chances with Senku are ruined. His reputation is ruined.
Gen feels like he should cry, but he just stands there – leaning on the handrail, staring into the darkness and replaying the fall in his head over and over again. Perhaps he shivers from the early spring chill, but he does not notice.
“Hey there, you sure ran away fast,” a deep voice shakes Gen out of his trance, and he whips around to face Senku, standing there all nonchalant as if nothing ever happened.
“I’m sorry, I was mortified,” Gen squeaks, “Are you alright? I’m sorry I dropped you, and that I bashed my nose on you, and for everything that happened after, as well.”
Senku chuckles, and it looks like he does not hold the fall against him, much to Gen’s relief. “It's alright, you look like you’re in worse shape than me. Are you fine?”
“Just dandy,” Gen tries to reply but squeaks instead and swiftly covers his mouth. “I’m going to be fine. Just waiting until enough time has passed for me to find the situation amusing.” He then huffs a small laugh. “Maybe the time is now, even.”
Gen lifts his head to find Senku full-on staring at him. A remnant of a smile has left Senku’s face warm, and for some reason, that takes Gen’s breath away. He wants to keep looking, but simultaneously look away. His throat feels tight and his cheeks heat up.
“If that takes away some of your unease, I really enjoyed the dance despite how it ended,” says Senku, and moves closer to Gen so that they both stand on the edge of the balcony. Hidden away from the hall by the curtains and the very dull candlelight reaching their faces, the situation is shrouded in intimacy.
“I did too.” Gen’s voice comes out meeker than he anticipated. “In the grand scheme of things, I’m not sure if I was a good enough decoy in the end.” He finally let his smile touch his eyes, empowered by the private and newly lighthearted atmosphere between them. He even finds it in him to attempt a joke, “At least you can blame your inability to dance on an injury sustained by me.”
“I need no such excuses, I’m really unable to dance. Not that I planned to accept any invitations to begin with,” Oh, that dashing smirk is back.
“What made you accept mine?” Gen asks so quiet it might as well be a whisper.
“Curiosity, perhaps. Something about you intrigued me.”
That urges Gen to look at Senku, and really look at him. The deep red eyes, gazing right into his own with endearing concentration. As though Gen is worthy of such careful attention. The relaxed shoulders and a comfortable stance – all signs the person in front of him is open and honest.
“That makes me happy,” and perhaps the statement is the truest he has said all evening.
“May I kiss you?” Senku asks, and Gen's heart quickens as he watches Senku planting a tender peck on the back of his hand. A hot wave washes over Gen, and before he can think better of it, he grabs Senku by his jacket and leans in.
The kiss is brief, with their lips laying flush against each other. Gen pulls away once realisation catches up with him, but he is quickly pulled back. Senku touches his cheek to deepen the kiss, and Gen forgets time.
They kiss and kiss some more, with light caresses and soft smiles in between. Gen is glad he is sober. The kisses make his head spin, and if feels any more elation he might just faint.
“How can I stay in touch with a busy man such as yourself? Apart from spying on your actions in the newspaper, of course,” Gen rasps, and his eyes are stuck switching between Senku’s eyes and those newly bruised lips.
That makes Senku snort, “I might save a free couple of hours next year.”
Gen playfully hits Senku’s chest and they both snicker again. “But if something changes I will write you a telegram.”
“I will hold you to that, or else I plan on dropping you again during our next dance.” Says Gen, and can barely contain his giddiness.
“Perhaps I will lead next time…”