Chapter Text
The pretty barista at the studio café counter sighed inwardly as the scraggly-haired dancer took his coffee from her. Suzuki swept his hair out of his eyes and flashed her a charming smile in lieu of thanks. He picked up a cookie from the counter jar and put it directly in his mouth. The wind chimes at the café door tinkled and when Suzuki turned around, with both hands occupied and a mouthful of cookie, his eyes met brown coloured, solemn ones. The newcomer brushed past him on his way to the counter and Suzuki picked up the astringent scent of whatever fragrance the stranger was wearing. He inhaled to take it in better.
Bitter, and manly, he thought.
He suddenly came out of his momentary daze and realized that he was still glued to the spot near the counter.
Wait, why am I fixating on another man’s perfume?
He rejoined his friends at their table and scowled. Aki, who had arrived when he was at the counter, had taken up his original seat facing the café floor and he was only left with a chair facing the wall.
“That was my seat, go on move your butt here”, he said grumpily.
Aki rolled her eyes.
“What difference does it make? Just sit there”, she said.
“No. I don’t want to stare at a wall, get up”, he stubbornly insisted.
“What a gentleman”, remarked Aki sarcastically.
Aki grumbled and gathered her stuff. As soon as she got up, Suzuki quickly settled down on the booth seat. When he looked up, he saw the stranger at the counter looking in their direction. Their eyes met again and this time, Suzuki detected a hint of cold derision in the man’s gaze. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
What’s up with him? , he thought
Aki was still unhappy over having to move. Kento smirked.
“Go easy on him, he just wants to watch the pretty barista he was flirting with”, he said. “Isn’t that right, Suzuki?”
Suzuki was engrossed in observing the man who had entered earlier and didn’t answer. He could only see the stranger’s back now. He was wearing a thick, black sweater and beige pants. His hair was neatly styled to the point of severity.
Not a pin out of place, he noticed with amused interest.
The barista noticed Suzuki’s line of sight and blushed. One of her co-workers appeared at her side.
“Shinya Suzuki. His mother’s a Latin dance instructor here”.
The barista swivelled towards her friend.
“You know him?”
Her friend laughed.
“Oh, yes. My advice, play around if you fancy him but don’t get attached. Shinya Suzuki doesn’t do long term”.
Suzuki arrived at the class, whistling and habitually late. The dancers were already warming up under his mother’s supervision. He noticed with surprise that the stranger from the café was here as well in one of the front rows. He saw some other new faces too. He sidled up to his mother.
“Who are these new people?” he whispered.
“The studio wants to do a showcase for New Year’s and match up different dance styles”, his mother explained.
“Oh, I see”, replied Suzuki. He saw that Aki had saved him a spot but he gravitated towards the one by the stranger. The man noticed his approach and looked on as Suzuki threw his bag in the corner and prepared to begin stretching.
“This is my partner’s spot”, said the man with blank politeness. “She’s just arrived”.
Suzuki glanced towards the door and saw a graceful woman making her way towards them. She had long, black hair and was wearing spectacles. An unexplained surge of ruthless pettiness rose up in Suzuki. He wanted this spot. He didn’t want to give it up.
Suzuki shrugged.
“You snooze, you lose. There’s an empty spot over there”, he said with a nod towards Aki.
The man’s expression grew colder. The girl smiled timidly.
“This is her first day here, she wasn’t late on purpose. Please move to that spot”, said the man with a deliberate, pointed emphasis on the last two words.
Suzuki felt a prickle of annoyance at him being defensive of her but he also felt an odd thrill of being provided this opportunity by the man to disobey, to defy. He wanted to be a little shit in front of Mr. Perfection here.
“Nuh-uh”, he said with a childish shake of his head.
The man shot him a steely look which made Suzuki waver for a moment… what would it be like to turn that look of disapproval into approval? What would it feel like if that man told him he was good?
No, but trying to get under his skin was more fun. He wouldn’t be good that easily, he wouldn’t obey that easily. Mr. Perfection would have to work for it.
“Sugiki, that’s fine. I’ll go over there. We don’t have to dance together today anyways”, said the girl in a low voice. The man reached out to stop her.
“Fusako, you can practice here, I’ll go over there”, he said and moved to the spot besides Aki in the middle row.
Suzuki watched as the man bowed to Aki, introduced himself and asked if he could practice next to her. He didn’t deign to glance in his direction for the rest of the class.
Suzuki sprawled on the floor in a corner and sipped some water which sloppily dropped over his chin and chest.
Shinya Sugiki. Ballroom dance. I hate him.