potg; tachibana and fuji
May. 7th, 2006 03:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shattermeltKippei sighed and dropped his gear on the floor inside his empty apartment, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand before he stepped over the bag and into the kitchen to see if he still had anything edible. The place was clean mostly only because he didn't spend much time here. He actually didn't like taking days off. He knew they were important, and sometimes he needed them. They still always made him feel like he was slacking off, like he should still be out there, on call, doing something. There was always something. But eventually the chief would give him the look and he would go and take his days off and do his best not to spend the whole time wishing he was back at work. There were other things to do, of course. Right.
Coming home to an empty house was something that most of his teammates relished, the chance to unwind in their own space in peace and quiet, but he only found it empty and quiet. It made him restless, and he would find himself going out again, looking for something to occupy his time--a pickup game or few drinks at the bar, or both. Tonight sounded like a good night for both.
After spending a couple hours at the gym playing basketball, he headed over to the bar to relax for awhile--as much as he ever did.
Fuji smiled at the bartender as he walked in from the back, and was greeted with a harried grin in return. One glance told Fuji why--drinks were piling up on the out-counter, but there were only two waitresses today who weren't hosting, and all the hosts were occupied--Fuji could see Sengoku with some women, all laughing and smiling and having a good time, and the other hosts were similarly occupied.
"Here, I'll help," Fuji said with a smile, walking up to the out-counter. He didn't have anyone waiting, anyway, and passing out drinks would help him meet and greet. The bartender threw him a grateful look, nodding, and Fuji picked up three seperate orders, placing them on one tray. Three strawberry daiquiris went to a table with giggling college students who smiled at Fuji but were engrossed in eyeing some other young men sitting at the bar. A vodka martini and a cosmopolitan went to the couple in the corner who obviously had eyes only for each other.
The last one, a whiskey, belonged to a blond man who Fuji had seen a few times before. Most of the time the man was alone, and Fuji hadn't seen him talk to others much. Some of the female hosts had tried before, but they complained that he hadn't been receptive or interested at all. "He just kind of watches people and looks vaguely amused," one sweet-looking female host had said to Fuji once, disgruntled that hints weren't picked up. Perhaps this was one of those customers who merely came for the alcohol ... but Fuji had a theory that drinkers who drank purely for the drink itself saved a lot of money doing it in their homes. If this man was at a bar, he was there for a social reason.
With a smile, Fuji placed the coaster and the drink on the man's table, and nodded amiably. "Here's your whiskey, sir. It's nice seeing you here again. How's your day been?"
Kippei looked up at him, slightly bemused at being greeted so. The waiters here didn't often stop to chat. His eyes narrowed slightly and a faint smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as lifted the glass, taking a drink before he answered.
"It's my day off, so it's well enough. How is yours?" Not an answer at all, and the question was less of a return than a deflection. He couldn't remember ever being approached by one of the hosts like this before--not one of the male ones, anyway. The women fluttered annoyingly around often enough, and he normally waved them on their way like pretty, if useless, butterflies. He wasn't interested.
He wondered if this one--Fuji, he thought--was actually flirting, or just letting habit take over while he helped out with the drinks.
"Mmm, I've only just started my shift, but it looks like a nice night," Fuji answered with a smile. None of his regulars were in the bar, but the night was still young, and in the meantime, perhaps he'd gain a new client. And if the man wasn't interested in speaking with a male host, Fuji would entertain himself anyway until some customers asked for him. Still, there was no harm in broaching the subject if the man was happy enough to pay. Before that, though ... getting to know him would be nice, job or no job.
This semi-regular seemed a nice enough type. He looked rather like he'd come in from a hard day's work, but he'd just said it was his day off, so ... "Maa, what sport did you play? Did you have fun?" Fuji asked, resting the tray on Tachibana's table. He cast a quick glance at the out-counter, but it was cleared now; an experienced scan of the room yielded no other people he'd have better luck with, anyway, so it would be nice to learn something about this semi-regular who came alone.
Kippei raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. Sharp eyes, that, and a quick mind. Of course it was fairly obvious that he was sweaty and disheveled from exertion, but most people were neither observant nor tenacious enough to instantly conclude that he'd been playing instead of working. He tilted his head, curious.
"Just a pickup game over at the gym, basketball." He shrugged, with a quick flash of a grin. "It was a good time." He sat back, slouching down and giving the illusion of complete relaxation while he gave Fuji a more thorough once over, looking up at him with a lazy hint of a smile and a spark of interest in his eyes. If the guy was flirting, Kippei thought maybe he wouldn't mind. He was interesting, and easy on the eyes; Kippei liked interesting. And there was an indefinable air of something about him that told Kippei he was more than a little bit dangerous, as well. Kippei liked that, too.
The surprised eyebrow amused Fuji, and he smiled, eyes closed but watching the other. "Don't be surprised," Fuji chuckled. "It was your day off, so it couldn't have been work. One learns to recognise tell-tale signs quickly."
Nodding at the chair in front of the man, Fuji said, "I'd sit, but if I do, the bar will start host charges. Have you ever had a host or know what a host is?"
"Mmmm," Kippei shrugged, waving him to a seat. "The ladies try it often enough. I admit to usually telling them to shoo." He studied Fuji as the other man took his seat, content to watch and let the other start a conversation, since that was his job. He didn't bother introducing himself; no doubt Fuji would ask if he wanted to know.
He didn't know how much the fees were, but didn't particularly care, either. His salary more than covered his simple needs, and he had plenty to spare. He was fairly well off for a working man. No family, no expensive hobbies, so he tended to save money rather than spend it. Tonight he was bored, and Fuji promised to be interesting enough to be worth the charge.
Taking the seat indicated seat, Fuji smiled at the other man. "Thank you. It's normal for the female hosts to try their luck with the men first before we male hosts do. Had they known your tastes ran towards your own gender, I'm sure I'd have been here much sooner," he said, and nodded at the bartender. A glass of something clear and iced was delivered to the table by a waitress who disappeared discretely.
"Saa ... as one of the top three, I can get expensive if you're planning to stay long." Fuji slid a finger gracefully down the side of the glass, and wrote a four-digit number on the table. "Per hour, drinks not included," he said with a smile. "When you've had enough, just tell me to go, and I will. Until then, perhaps you can tell me about yourself? Who you are, what you do, and why is it you don't seem to like days off as much as most people seem to."
Kippei raised both eyebrows that time. Interesting wasn't the half of it. He hadn't exactly said he preferred male company, after all. It was fairly obvious if you were paying attention, but Kippei had long since learned that few people paid that close of attention to other people, especially ones they had just met. "I do," he said slowly, "though I don't tend to advertise the fact."
He hooked one arm over the back of his chair, getting a little more comfortable. One finger tapped restlessly on the table, and he nodded absently at the price, noting and dismissing it. Whatever. Not important. And that was very interesting indeed. He frowned slightly, picking up his drink and taking another swallow before he answered.
"Tachibana, I work for the fire and rescue team from the station near here." He nodded vaguely toward the general direction, outside. Fuji would know the place. "Days off are boring." No focus, no purpose, and they made him restless as hell.
Days off were boring? My, my. It sounded to Fuji like Tachibana was a workaholic. Fuji had two theories about workaholics. Either they really loved their jobs, or the work was merely a distraction from something else in their lives. As Tachibana was here alone, on a day when he was off work, and had just been playing basketball, Fuji would have laid bets ten to one Tachibana was single. Perhaps not actively looking, but definitely in need of someone.
"Mmm, I know the place," Fuji said with a smile. "I think it's a tragedy you're single, really. Handsome, dedicated, and you don't seem to care how much I cost. Don't you have any hobbies outside of work, Tachibana-san?"
Kippei tilted his head, slightly annoyed for some reason he could not put his finger on, though mostly he was amused. "Why would I need them?" he drawled, taking another drink and smirking faintly. Of course he had hobbies, but he didn't spend much time on them, and he would need more alcohol and considerably more time before he'd be willing to talk about them to a total stranger.
"Nothing wrong with being single," Kippei told him, and right then, he meant it. "My job keeps me busy. I don't have time for a proper relationship anyway. Unless it was someone who kept the same hours I do, someone in my job, or a similar one, and surely you can see the problems with two people in such high stress jobs dating?" He shrugged again, grinning easily. "I love my job. I don't need anyone. I just tend to get bored on my days off."
Fuji noticed that Tachibana wasn't volunteering any information about his hobbies, and wondered what they were. "It might make days off more interesting," he said with a smile. "Tennis, stamp-collecting, watching old movies. Of course, some people have too many, while others don't need them because they're too busy with work." Not that it was healthy not to have a hobby or two, but Tachibana was a client, after all. An intriguing one, though--most clients were very happy to talk about themselves to all and sundry.
Ah, well then. If Tachibana said he loved his job, then certainly Fuji would agree with him. Fuji smiled back, leaning closer, and sipped his own drink. "What do you normally do on your days off, Tachibana-san?"
"Sleep," Kippei told him, smirking, and that was partly true. You didn't often get much sleep on a shift, since calls came in at all hours of the day and night. He'd learned to sleep in bits and pieces, a few hours here and there, but on his days off he could come home and sleep a full eight or ten hours if he felt like it, and sometimes he did. It was odd, talking about himself, especially to a complete stranger, but he supposed if it was Fuji's job and he was paying for it, he might as well.
"I don't generally need them," he pointed out. "I work a lot. Days off are generally crash time; eating, sleeping, working out or playing sports, doing a bit of reading and eating and sleeping some more so I can build up my reserves to go back to work. Sometimes, if I feel like I need to get away, I take my bike and just ride as far as I can get in a day, and then come back in time for my next shift. Twenty four hours on, forty eight hours off is the usual. Once in awhile I get four days off, but that's when I get bored." He grinned easily and took another drink, aware that his life sounded rather crazy to most people.
Fuji laughed at the answer, a delighted smile spreading across his face. It had been both humorous and truthful. "It sounds both hectic and exciting, Tachibana-san," he said, a spark of amusement in his eyes. It did, too. Tachibana seemed to genuinely enjoy his job, even if the dedication might be a tad much for Fuji to understand. If one did everything well, what need was there to put in effort for something only marginally better? It was certainly a side Fuji could respect, though.
"Tell me about your life at the station. How are your co-workers? How can you stand to be around them for twenty-four hours at a stretch?" Fuji was genuinely curious and interested, his eyes sparkling with inquisitiveness. It certainly sounded exciting and fun, even if Fuji knew he could never do it himself.
Kippei was amused. "Firefighting is about teamwork," he answered in a lazy drawl, eyeing Fuji from where he was sprawled in his seat. "You have to know your team, be able to work with them in high stress situations and close quarters. That's why most of us scatter on our days off. You learn to trust your team, you have to be pretty close as a group, but sometimes you need the time away. It helps that all of us care about the job more than anything else." He shrugged; he was doing a lot of that, but Fuji asked odd questions.
"What about you?" he asked, more interested in Fuji than in talking about himself. "You do this all day, every day?" He looked around, scanning the place, at least passingly familiar with the clientele, although none of them had ever struck him as particularly interesting conversationalists. He couldn't really imagine doing this all the time, it sounded deadly boring. At least Fuji got well paid for it.
"It sounds fascinating," Fuji said. Spending so much time with someone else ... not for Fuji, certainly. If he wanted to be social twenty-four hours a day, he wouldn't be spending hours on end in darkrooms or behind a camera. Teamwork was fine when someone else was doing it.
"Oh, not every day. I'm only a part-timer. Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays." Fuji smiled, neglecting to mention that he was a student. He sipped from his glass, then put it down and twirled the short strands of hair at his nape as he leaned forward, resting an elbow lightly on the edge of the table. "What are your colleagues like? What's life at the fire station like?"
Kippei shot him a keen glance, debating whether or not to play along, but as usual he decided against it. Fuji wasn't playing fair. Kippei wasn't that kind of man, though it was intriguing in other people.
"This could be a very short conversation," he told Fuji with mild bluntness, "since neither of us like to talk about ourselves. We can sit here and keep deflecting each other back and forth, but I assure you it will get boring very quickly. I'm paying you because I want to get unbored. You're an interesting person, but you're very good at hiding. You want to know about me, I want to know about you--fair enough. I'll trade you question for question. You give me a non-answer, I get to ask again. Sound good?"
There was a moment of surprised silence, and then Fuji smiled, studying the man before him with not a small amount of curiousity. My, my. Perhaps this would be quite fun after all. He'd never been told off (even this nicely) for encouraging clients to talk about themselves before. It was almost refreshing. "I believe, Tachibana-san, that is the first time I've been told off for asking about people," he said with a chuckle. "Fair enough. I hope you'll forgive me for the deflection. Privacy as a host becomes almost second nature after long enough."
Shifting in his seat, Fuji debated on whether to lie, but in the end decided the truth would be easier on all concerned. "I think it's amazing how you can spend so many hours with your team. The longest time I've spent with anyone outside of family lasted nine hours, and that may have included some ..." Fuji paused delicately a moment. "... repose. I don't work every day, because I study art and literature at the University of Tokyo. Maa ... to make up for some extra information I inferred earlier, I'm four and a half, single, and enjoy taking pictures."
Fuji smiled. "Is that more to your tastes?" He drank some more. Noticing Tachibana's glass was close to empty anyway, Fuji made a discreet movement towards the bar.
Kippei raised his eyebrows again, mostly in amusement this time. Indeed, that was more like it. "Four and a half?" he asked, curiously, marking the obvious while he mulled over the rest of it. He had not really expected the other man to agree, or at least not to tell the truth. Still, it had the ring of veracity. Art and literature, not terribly surprising. Antisocial, which was. But then, he tended to be a loner in his off hours himself, and no doubt that was just as surprising to Fuji. Single, which was expected but amusing that he made a point of saying it, and.... taking pictures?
"Photography?" he asked doubtfully, since the man had said taking pictures rather than making them. He would have expected an art student to draw; he did not himself consider photography to be an art, but he supposed it could be used so. "What kind of literature?" he added, as if it were an afterthought.
"Mmm, fair's fair, Tachibana-san," Fuji said, but smiled. "Next one is your turn, and you have to tell me about your colleagues before we continue on me. Yes, I'm four and a half, really." He winked, and continued to answer. "I major in film photography. Maa, there's nothing digital in my pictures if I can help it. It's sad to see the computer take over the human behind the lens. And I like French-English literature."
The drinks were delivered, the same thing Tachibana had earlier, and another glass of something iced and clear for Fuji. Fuji smiled at Tachibana, and raised his glass. "To questions?"
"Hmm," Kippei agreed, raising his drink and then taking a sip. "The crew are pretty familiar with each other; most of us have been in the business, if not this company, for years. Some have been doing this for a decade or more; it's a career choice for most of us. I am one of the youngest on my team; my partner is three years older, and most of the rest are in their late twenties, early thirties. It's a job that gets under your skin--once it gets to you, you're not really happy doing anything else. Makes for a damn restricting social life, though. Hard on a family, but some of the men do have wives and children. Single, myself," he added, smirking. Not to mention he wasn't interested in women, but Fuji knew that already. "It's a good job for loners and those with nothing to lose." Both of which applied to him, but he didn't feel the need to point that out.
He took another drink, debating on questions and answers. Four and a half, hmm? A leap day birthday? He did the math, and blinked in surprise. "Eighteen?" He'd thought the young man, pretty though he was, would be older than that.
"Mmm, that's correct," Fuji said approvingly. "That was very quick of you, Tachibana-san." Single, interested in men, and he wasn't a dumb fireman, he was really very smart. How delightfully intriguing. Fuji sipped on his drink, too. "Eighteen this past birthday, which I'm sure you've already guessed. I'd love to know when yours is, but I'm much more interested in ask you whether you think you're a loner, have nothing to lose, or both."
Fuji was still smiling, but his eyes were interested, watching Tachibana for his reaction. The non-verbal responses were sometimes the best, though Fuji had to admit, he didn't always get lucky.
That question he had not been expecting. Kippei tilted his head, appraisingly, his estimation of Fuji going up a notch. So he was that smart, then. "I'm twenty five," he said slowly, which unfortunately made him a little too old to be hitting on kids just out of high school--not that he had been planning to make any moves on Fuji anyway, given the man's job he thought it was hardly fair, but he could flirt and appreciate the scenery. Now, however, he felt slightly guilty about doing even that. "You're a kid," he noted wryly. "Freshman?"
He was still stalling on the other question, uncertain whether he wanted to answer it or not. Then he shrugged and smirked. "I'm single at twenty five, what do you think?" That took some dedicated avoidance, assuming he didn't have a string of past relationships, which he did not. He'd had a few flings, and that was all. He'd never found anyone that could hold his attention past the demands of his job for more than a few days--usually one.
Fuji smiled. "Only that you're available," he said. Sipping from his glass, Fuji tilted his head a little. "I'll probably be single when I'm thirty, but I don't think I'm a loner or have nothing to lose. I have a wonderful sister and brother, and friends when I want to talk to them. Besides," and Fuji winked, smiling impishly. "I'm only four and a half. Who's to say I'll be around when I'm twenty-five?"
"Saa ... it's all a matter of choice, really." Another sip, and Fuji smiled. "But you haven't really answered the question, ne?"
Kippei shrugged, not much perturbed by Fuji calling him on it; he'd half expected that, but it had been worth a try. "I dunno that I'd say I'm available," he said doubtfully. "I've been accused of being married to the job, but that's what makes me good at it." His second whiskey was half gone, now, and he took another drink before he continued.
"I like being alone. I have relatives, but I don't have anyone that depends on me. Not many close friends, either. My partner is my best friend, but we don't hang out on our off days as often as you might think." A brief smile, a philosophical flicker of humor. "Nothing to lose," he said simply. "I enjoy life as much as the next guy, but I got no particular reason to stick around."
"Saa ..." Fuji said, and another discreet gesture went to the bar. He sipped again from his glass, and watched Tachibana over the rim, putting the glass down after a few moments. "If you met the man of your dreams tomorrow, and they wanted to spend their lives with you, would you?" Fuji smiled, and finished his drink. "If the answer is yes, then you were available. Maa, now that you've met him, you're not, ne?"
Fresh drinks were brought, and empty glasses whisked away discreetly. Fuji smiled impishly. "Or, perhaps, you're just having fun right now, like I am. I _am_ a freshman," he said, nodding. Tachibana hadn't asked him to elaborate, after all, and Fuji had certainly volunteered a lot of information. "Maa ... if you enjoy life, why don't you have a reason to stick around?"
Kippei shook his head, not really having thought about it. "The man of my dreams, hm?" he said thoughtfully, taking another drink. "I don't know that I've ever really considered what I'd want...but any case, I haven't met him yet." He very much doubted that he would ever meet someone that amazing. Someone fascinating enough to hold his attention in spite of the thrill and satisfaction of doing a job he loved, and one that took up so much of his time. It would have to be someone pretty damn near perfect, and he really didn't think anyone like that existed. "I don't consider myself available in that respect since my job takes up so much of my time and attention. I don't think it would really be fair to expect anyone to share me with it. Having fun, of course, is always acceptable."
He grinned easily and finished off the last of his second drink, eyeing the clear stuff Fuji was drinking. That looked kind of good, actually. "I enjoy life well enough," he answered absently. "But there's nothing..." He paused to actually think about it, and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't have any real attachments, nothing that I care about that much and no one who needs me, so it wouldn't matter. My job is my reason, and I like it that way; nothing to keep me from giving it everything I've got."
Fuji smiled as someone whisked away Tachibana's empty glass, replacing it with a freshly filled one. "Waiting for Mr Right, hmm? Saa ...perhaps you may meet him tomorrow. Life's unpredictable that way, ne?"
Fuji sipped from his glass before replacing it on the table. "Maa, I wouldn't say you have no real reason to stay. You have friends who will miss you, and what about those who would depend on your help in the future?"
Kippei frowned slightly. "I'm not waiting for anything," he corrected. "I'm not the kind of guy who'd just stand around hoping something will happen--if I wanted someone, I'd go out and find them, but I'm not looking." He sipped cautiously at the new drink, and decided he liked it.
"I have friends, but they have their own lives. And they'd understand. I'm not planning on going anywhere, but they're not a good enough reason to..." he shrugged, making a vague hand gesture, not knowing how to explain to someone else that half the rush came from being a little bit reckless. And he didn't have a reason not to be.
"Saa ... I'd beg to differ, but that's what makes life interesting, ne?" Fuji wondered if this was perhaps going around in circles, at any rate, and decided it was time to change the subject. Sipping his drink, he asked, "Why does a self-professed loner come to busy places like All Bar None, I wonder?"
Kippei gave him a sardonic look. "Busy places are the best places to be a loner. It's much easier to get lost in a crowd. Everyone is already busy, they don't have time to pay attention to you." You could sit and watch and drink in peace, and ignore anyone who tried to speak to you; although if you sat in a corner, you weren't likely to be spoken to in the first place.
"Saa, there are other bars without hosts or hostesses, just as busy. All Bar None is the only one around here like it. Our job here is to approach everyone, loners or not." Fuji smiled, and shrugged gracefully. "Why not drink at home? No one would approach you there."
"I don't always come here," Kippei answered mildly, settling back lazily into his seat and looking around. "But people are entertaining to watch... drinking alone is boring, and half the fun of drinking is attempting to get home afterwards." His eyes are laughing; let Fuji infer from that as he will, that Kippei enjoys the danger of riding his bike with a slight buzz. It's not really dangerous, but he knows well enough that it is reckless.
Fuji laughed, too, understanding the draw of the other's job, now. The danger of the unknown, the thrill of taking a risk. It was almost akin to saying things to dangerous people, gauging their reactions, never a hundred percent sure what they would be. He reached out for his drink, cradling it in both hands for a moment, enjoying the cool moisture on the surface of the glass. The bartender caught Fuji's glance, and smiled.
Sipping from his glass, Fuji said, "As someone who enjoys your company, I hope your inebriated journeys back are safe and uneventful." His eyes were closed, but Fuji's smile sparkled with interest and mischief. "Unless you'd rather they weren't, of course." More drinks arrived, on cue.
Kippei shrugged. "Don't mind, either way. Makes life interesting." Danger was all part of the job, and his days off seemed to be rather lacking without it. He'd learned ways to make things more interesting for himself. That was only one of them.
"I can take care of myself," he assured Fuji with a lazy, cocky grin.
"Of course," Fuji agreed, raising a glass in salute. Tachibana's grin was really very sexy, he thought. With a smile, Fuji got up, and gracefully moved to sit beside the other. "Perhaps the lack of a thrill was why you said your days off were boring?"
Kippei had thought that point had been obvious, but if Fuji was just figuring it out, oh well. He wasn't used to having to explain himself to people. It would be no surprise if he wasn't very good at it.
"Mmmm," he answered, taking another drink and eyeing Fuji a bit warily as he moved closer. He was fairly certain that he had not been hitting on Fuji, although he had to admit to flirting, but he'd toned it down after he'd found out the other man's age and really, it would be awkward if Fuji decided that it didn't matter, and tried to offer him some more intimate company. In his experience, when someone sidled up to you like so, that was what was coming. That or drugs, but he wasn't betting on that. And unfortunately, however attractive Fuji might be, Kippei just did not feel comfortable taking advantage of someone so much younger. Although if he was paying for it, it was hardly taking advantage, but that was hardly the point.
Coming home to an empty house was something that most of his teammates relished, the chance to unwind in their own space in peace and quiet, but he only found it empty and quiet. It made him restless, and he would find himself going out again, looking for something to occupy his time--a pickup game or few drinks at the bar, or both. Tonight sounded like a good night for both.
After spending a couple hours at the gym playing basketball, he headed over to the bar to relax for awhile--as much as he ever did.
Fuji smiled at the bartender as he walked in from the back, and was greeted with a harried grin in return. One glance told Fuji why--drinks were piling up on the out-counter, but there were only two waitresses today who weren't hosting, and all the hosts were occupied--Fuji could see Sengoku with some women, all laughing and smiling and having a good time, and the other hosts were similarly occupied.
"Here, I'll help," Fuji said with a smile, walking up to the out-counter. He didn't have anyone waiting, anyway, and passing out drinks would help him meet and greet. The bartender threw him a grateful look, nodding, and Fuji picked up three seperate orders, placing them on one tray. Three strawberry daiquiris went to a table with giggling college students who smiled at Fuji but were engrossed in eyeing some other young men sitting at the bar. A vodka martini and a cosmopolitan went to the couple in the corner who obviously had eyes only for each other.
The last one, a whiskey, belonged to a blond man who Fuji had seen a few times before. Most of the time the man was alone, and Fuji hadn't seen him talk to others much. Some of the female hosts had tried before, but they complained that he hadn't been receptive or interested at all. "He just kind of watches people and looks vaguely amused," one sweet-looking female host had said to Fuji once, disgruntled that hints weren't picked up. Perhaps this was one of those customers who merely came for the alcohol ... but Fuji had a theory that drinkers who drank purely for the drink itself saved a lot of money doing it in their homes. If this man was at a bar, he was there for a social reason.
With a smile, Fuji placed the coaster and the drink on the man's table, and nodded amiably. "Here's your whiskey, sir. It's nice seeing you here again. How's your day been?"
Kippei looked up at him, slightly bemused at being greeted so. The waiters here didn't often stop to chat. His eyes narrowed slightly and a faint smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as lifted the glass, taking a drink before he answered.
"It's my day off, so it's well enough. How is yours?" Not an answer at all, and the question was less of a return than a deflection. He couldn't remember ever being approached by one of the hosts like this before--not one of the male ones, anyway. The women fluttered annoyingly around often enough, and he normally waved them on their way like pretty, if useless, butterflies. He wasn't interested.
He wondered if this one--Fuji, he thought--was actually flirting, or just letting habit take over while he helped out with the drinks.
"Mmm, I've only just started my shift, but it looks like a nice night," Fuji answered with a smile. None of his regulars were in the bar, but the night was still young, and in the meantime, perhaps he'd gain a new client. And if the man wasn't interested in speaking with a male host, Fuji would entertain himself anyway until some customers asked for him. Still, there was no harm in broaching the subject if the man was happy enough to pay. Before that, though ... getting to know him would be nice, job or no job.
This semi-regular seemed a nice enough type. He looked rather like he'd come in from a hard day's work, but he'd just said it was his day off, so ... "Maa, what sport did you play? Did you have fun?" Fuji asked, resting the tray on Tachibana's table. He cast a quick glance at the out-counter, but it was cleared now; an experienced scan of the room yielded no other people he'd have better luck with, anyway, so it would be nice to learn something about this semi-regular who came alone.
Kippei raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. Sharp eyes, that, and a quick mind. Of course it was fairly obvious that he was sweaty and disheveled from exertion, but most people were neither observant nor tenacious enough to instantly conclude that he'd been playing instead of working. He tilted his head, curious.
"Just a pickup game over at the gym, basketball." He shrugged, with a quick flash of a grin. "It was a good time." He sat back, slouching down and giving the illusion of complete relaxation while he gave Fuji a more thorough once over, looking up at him with a lazy hint of a smile and a spark of interest in his eyes. If the guy was flirting, Kippei thought maybe he wouldn't mind. He was interesting, and easy on the eyes; Kippei liked interesting. And there was an indefinable air of something about him that told Kippei he was more than a little bit dangerous, as well. Kippei liked that, too.
The surprised eyebrow amused Fuji, and he smiled, eyes closed but watching the other. "Don't be surprised," Fuji chuckled. "It was your day off, so it couldn't have been work. One learns to recognise tell-tale signs quickly."
Nodding at the chair in front of the man, Fuji said, "I'd sit, but if I do, the bar will start host charges. Have you ever had a host or know what a host is?"
"Mmmm," Kippei shrugged, waving him to a seat. "The ladies try it often enough. I admit to usually telling them to shoo." He studied Fuji as the other man took his seat, content to watch and let the other start a conversation, since that was his job. He didn't bother introducing himself; no doubt Fuji would ask if he wanted to know.
He didn't know how much the fees were, but didn't particularly care, either. His salary more than covered his simple needs, and he had plenty to spare. He was fairly well off for a working man. No family, no expensive hobbies, so he tended to save money rather than spend it. Tonight he was bored, and Fuji promised to be interesting enough to be worth the charge.
Taking the seat indicated seat, Fuji smiled at the other man. "Thank you. It's normal for the female hosts to try their luck with the men first before we male hosts do. Had they known your tastes ran towards your own gender, I'm sure I'd have been here much sooner," he said, and nodded at the bartender. A glass of something clear and iced was delivered to the table by a waitress who disappeared discretely.
"Saa ... as one of the top three, I can get expensive if you're planning to stay long." Fuji slid a finger gracefully down the side of the glass, and wrote a four-digit number on the table. "Per hour, drinks not included," he said with a smile. "When you've had enough, just tell me to go, and I will. Until then, perhaps you can tell me about yourself? Who you are, what you do, and why is it you don't seem to like days off as much as most people seem to."
Kippei raised both eyebrows that time. Interesting wasn't the half of it. He hadn't exactly said he preferred male company, after all. It was fairly obvious if you were paying attention, but Kippei had long since learned that few people paid that close of attention to other people, especially ones they had just met. "I do," he said slowly, "though I don't tend to advertise the fact."
He hooked one arm over the back of his chair, getting a little more comfortable. One finger tapped restlessly on the table, and he nodded absently at the price, noting and dismissing it. Whatever. Not important. And that was very interesting indeed. He frowned slightly, picking up his drink and taking another swallow before he answered.
"Tachibana, I work for the fire and rescue team from the station near here." He nodded vaguely toward the general direction, outside. Fuji would know the place. "Days off are boring." No focus, no purpose, and they made him restless as hell.
Days off were boring? My, my. It sounded to Fuji like Tachibana was a workaholic. Fuji had two theories about workaholics. Either they really loved their jobs, or the work was merely a distraction from something else in their lives. As Tachibana was here alone, on a day when he was off work, and had just been playing basketball, Fuji would have laid bets ten to one Tachibana was single. Perhaps not actively looking, but definitely in need of someone.
"Mmm, I know the place," Fuji said with a smile. "I think it's a tragedy you're single, really. Handsome, dedicated, and you don't seem to care how much I cost. Don't you have any hobbies outside of work, Tachibana-san?"
Kippei tilted his head, slightly annoyed for some reason he could not put his finger on, though mostly he was amused. "Why would I need them?" he drawled, taking another drink and smirking faintly. Of course he had hobbies, but he didn't spend much time on them, and he would need more alcohol and considerably more time before he'd be willing to talk about them to a total stranger.
"Nothing wrong with being single," Kippei told him, and right then, he meant it. "My job keeps me busy. I don't have time for a proper relationship anyway. Unless it was someone who kept the same hours I do, someone in my job, or a similar one, and surely you can see the problems with two people in such high stress jobs dating?" He shrugged again, grinning easily. "I love my job. I don't need anyone. I just tend to get bored on my days off."
Fuji noticed that Tachibana wasn't volunteering any information about his hobbies, and wondered what they were. "It might make days off more interesting," he said with a smile. "Tennis, stamp-collecting, watching old movies. Of course, some people have too many, while others don't need them because they're too busy with work." Not that it was healthy not to have a hobby or two, but Tachibana was a client, after all. An intriguing one, though--most clients were very happy to talk about themselves to all and sundry.
Ah, well then. If Tachibana said he loved his job, then certainly Fuji would agree with him. Fuji smiled back, leaning closer, and sipped his own drink. "What do you normally do on your days off, Tachibana-san?"
"Sleep," Kippei told him, smirking, and that was partly true. You didn't often get much sleep on a shift, since calls came in at all hours of the day and night. He'd learned to sleep in bits and pieces, a few hours here and there, but on his days off he could come home and sleep a full eight or ten hours if he felt like it, and sometimes he did. It was odd, talking about himself, especially to a complete stranger, but he supposed if it was Fuji's job and he was paying for it, he might as well.
"I don't generally need them," he pointed out. "I work a lot. Days off are generally crash time; eating, sleeping, working out or playing sports, doing a bit of reading and eating and sleeping some more so I can build up my reserves to go back to work. Sometimes, if I feel like I need to get away, I take my bike and just ride as far as I can get in a day, and then come back in time for my next shift. Twenty four hours on, forty eight hours off is the usual. Once in awhile I get four days off, but that's when I get bored." He grinned easily and took another drink, aware that his life sounded rather crazy to most people.
Fuji laughed at the answer, a delighted smile spreading across his face. It had been both humorous and truthful. "It sounds both hectic and exciting, Tachibana-san," he said, a spark of amusement in his eyes. It did, too. Tachibana seemed to genuinely enjoy his job, even if the dedication might be a tad much for Fuji to understand. If one did everything well, what need was there to put in effort for something only marginally better? It was certainly a side Fuji could respect, though.
"Tell me about your life at the station. How are your co-workers? How can you stand to be around them for twenty-four hours at a stretch?" Fuji was genuinely curious and interested, his eyes sparkling with inquisitiveness. It certainly sounded exciting and fun, even if Fuji knew he could never do it himself.
Kippei was amused. "Firefighting is about teamwork," he answered in a lazy drawl, eyeing Fuji from where he was sprawled in his seat. "You have to know your team, be able to work with them in high stress situations and close quarters. That's why most of us scatter on our days off. You learn to trust your team, you have to be pretty close as a group, but sometimes you need the time away. It helps that all of us care about the job more than anything else." He shrugged; he was doing a lot of that, but Fuji asked odd questions.
"What about you?" he asked, more interested in Fuji than in talking about himself. "You do this all day, every day?" He looked around, scanning the place, at least passingly familiar with the clientele, although none of them had ever struck him as particularly interesting conversationalists. He couldn't really imagine doing this all the time, it sounded deadly boring. At least Fuji got well paid for it.
"It sounds fascinating," Fuji said. Spending so much time with someone else ... not for Fuji, certainly. If he wanted to be social twenty-four hours a day, he wouldn't be spending hours on end in darkrooms or behind a camera. Teamwork was fine when someone else was doing it.
"Oh, not every day. I'm only a part-timer. Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays." Fuji smiled, neglecting to mention that he was a student. He sipped from his glass, then put it down and twirled the short strands of hair at his nape as he leaned forward, resting an elbow lightly on the edge of the table. "What are your colleagues like? What's life at the fire station like?"
Kippei shot him a keen glance, debating whether or not to play along, but as usual he decided against it. Fuji wasn't playing fair. Kippei wasn't that kind of man, though it was intriguing in other people.
"This could be a very short conversation," he told Fuji with mild bluntness, "since neither of us like to talk about ourselves. We can sit here and keep deflecting each other back and forth, but I assure you it will get boring very quickly. I'm paying you because I want to get unbored. You're an interesting person, but you're very good at hiding. You want to know about me, I want to know about you--fair enough. I'll trade you question for question. You give me a non-answer, I get to ask again. Sound good?"
There was a moment of surprised silence, and then Fuji smiled, studying the man before him with not a small amount of curiousity. My, my. Perhaps this would be quite fun after all. He'd never been told off (even this nicely) for encouraging clients to talk about themselves before. It was almost refreshing. "I believe, Tachibana-san, that is the first time I've been told off for asking about people," he said with a chuckle. "Fair enough. I hope you'll forgive me for the deflection. Privacy as a host becomes almost second nature after long enough."
Shifting in his seat, Fuji debated on whether to lie, but in the end decided the truth would be easier on all concerned. "I think it's amazing how you can spend so many hours with your team. The longest time I've spent with anyone outside of family lasted nine hours, and that may have included some ..." Fuji paused delicately a moment. "... repose. I don't work every day, because I study art and literature at the University of Tokyo. Maa ... to make up for some extra information I inferred earlier, I'm four and a half, single, and enjoy taking pictures."
Fuji smiled. "Is that more to your tastes?" He drank some more. Noticing Tachibana's glass was close to empty anyway, Fuji made a discreet movement towards the bar.
Kippei raised his eyebrows again, mostly in amusement this time. Indeed, that was more like it. "Four and a half?" he asked, curiously, marking the obvious while he mulled over the rest of it. He had not really expected the other man to agree, or at least not to tell the truth. Still, it had the ring of veracity. Art and literature, not terribly surprising. Antisocial, which was. But then, he tended to be a loner in his off hours himself, and no doubt that was just as surprising to Fuji. Single, which was expected but amusing that he made a point of saying it, and.... taking pictures?
"Photography?" he asked doubtfully, since the man had said taking pictures rather than making them. He would have expected an art student to draw; he did not himself consider photography to be an art, but he supposed it could be used so. "What kind of literature?" he added, as if it were an afterthought.
"Mmm, fair's fair, Tachibana-san," Fuji said, but smiled. "Next one is your turn, and you have to tell me about your colleagues before we continue on me. Yes, I'm four and a half, really." He winked, and continued to answer. "I major in film photography. Maa, there's nothing digital in my pictures if I can help it. It's sad to see the computer take over the human behind the lens. And I like French-English literature."
The drinks were delivered, the same thing Tachibana had earlier, and another glass of something iced and clear for Fuji. Fuji smiled at Tachibana, and raised his glass. "To questions?"
"Hmm," Kippei agreed, raising his drink and then taking a sip. "The crew are pretty familiar with each other; most of us have been in the business, if not this company, for years. Some have been doing this for a decade or more; it's a career choice for most of us. I am one of the youngest on my team; my partner is three years older, and most of the rest are in their late twenties, early thirties. It's a job that gets under your skin--once it gets to you, you're not really happy doing anything else. Makes for a damn restricting social life, though. Hard on a family, but some of the men do have wives and children. Single, myself," he added, smirking. Not to mention he wasn't interested in women, but Fuji knew that already. "It's a good job for loners and those with nothing to lose." Both of which applied to him, but he didn't feel the need to point that out.
He took another drink, debating on questions and answers. Four and a half, hmm? A leap day birthday? He did the math, and blinked in surprise. "Eighteen?" He'd thought the young man, pretty though he was, would be older than that.
"Mmm, that's correct," Fuji said approvingly. "That was very quick of you, Tachibana-san." Single, interested in men, and he wasn't a dumb fireman, he was really very smart. How delightfully intriguing. Fuji sipped on his drink, too. "Eighteen this past birthday, which I'm sure you've already guessed. I'd love to know when yours is, but I'm much more interested in ask you whether you think you're a loner, have nothing to lose, or both."
Fuji was still smiling, but his eyes were interested, watching Tachibana for his reaction. The non-verbal responses were sometimes the best, though Fuji had to admit, he didn't always get lucky.
That question he had not been expecting. Kippei tilted his head, appraisingly, his estimation of Fuji going up a notch. So he was that smart, then. "I'm twenty five," he said slowly, which unfortunately made him a little too old to be hitting on kids just out of high school--not that he had been planning to make any moves on Fuji anyway, given the man's job he thought it was hardly fair, but he could flirt and appreciate the scenery. Now, however, he felt slightly guilty about doing even that. "You're a kid," he noted wryly. "Freshman?"
He was still stalling on the other question, uncertain whether he wanted to answer it or not. Then he shrugged and smirked. "I'm single at twenty five, what do you think?" That took some dedicated avoidance, assuming he didn't have a string of past relationships, which he did not. He'd had a few flings, and that was all. He'd never found anyone that could hold his attention past the demands of his job for more than a few days--usually one.
Fuji smiled. "Only that you're available," he said. Sipping from his glass, Fuji tilted his head a little. "I'll probably be single when I'm thirty, but I don't think I'm a loner or have nothing to lose. I have a wonderful sister and brother, and friends when I want to talk to them. Besides," and Fuji winked, smiling impishly. "I'm only four and a half. Who's to say I'll be around when I'm twenty-five?"
"Saa ... it's all a matter of choice, really." Another sip, and Fuji smiled. "But you haven't really answered the question, ne?"
Kippei shrugged, not much perturbed by Fuji calling him on it; he'd half expected that, but it had been worth a try. "I dunno that I'd say I'm available," he said doubtfully. "I've been accused of being married to the job, but that's what makes me good at it." His second whiskey was half gone, now, and he took another drink before he continued.
"I like being alone. I have relatives, but I don't have anyone that depends on me. Not many close friends, either. My partner is my best friend, but we don't hang out on our off days as often as you might think." A brief smile, a philosophical flicker of humor. "Nothing to lose," he said simply. "I enjoy life as much as the next guy, but I got no particular reason to stick around."
"Saa ..." Fuji said, and another discreet gesture went to the bar. He sipped again from his glass, and watched Tachibana over the rim, putting the glass down after a few moments. "If you met the man of your dreams tomorrow, and they wanted to spend their lives with you, would you?" Fuji smiled, and finished his drink. "If the answer is yes, then you were available. Maa, now that you've met him, you're not, ne?"
Fresh drinks were brought, and empty glasses whisked away discreetly. Fuji smiled impishly. "Or, perhaps, you're just having fun right now, like I am. I _am_ a freshman," he said, nodding. Tachibana hadn't asked him to elaborate, after all, and Fuji had certainly volunteered a lot of information. "Maa ... if you enjoy life, why don't you have a reason to stick around?"
Kippei shook his head, not really having thought about it. "The man of my dreams, hm?" he said thoughtfully, taking another drink. "I don't know that I've ever really considered what I'd want...but any case, I haven't met him yet." He very much doubted that he would ever meet someone that amazing. Someone fascinating enough to hold his attention in spite of the thrill and satisfaction of doing a job he loved, and one that took up so much of his time. It would have to be someone pretty damn near perfect, and he really didn't think anyone like that existed. "I don't consider myself available in that respect since my job takes up so much of my time and attention. I don't think it would really be fair to expect anyone to share me with it. Having fun, of course, is always acceptable."
He grinned easily and finished off the last of his second drink, eyeing the clear stuff Fuji was drinking. That looked kind of good, actually. "I enjoy life well enough," he answered absently. "But there's nothing..." He paused to actually think about it, and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't have any real attachments, nothing that I care about that much and no one who needs me, so it wouldn't matter. My job is my reason, and I like it that way; nothing to keep me from giving it everything I've got."
Fuji smiled as someone whisked away Tachibana's empty glass, replacing it with a freshly filled one. "Waiting for Mr Right, hmm? Saa ...perhaps you may meet him tomorrow. Life's unpredictable that way, ne?"
Fuji sipped from his glass before replacing it on the table. "Maa, I wouldn't say you have no real reason to stay. You have friends who will miss you, and what about those who would depend on your help in the future?"
Kippei frowned slightly. "I'm not waiting for anything," he corrected. "I'm not the kind of guy who'd just stand around hoping something will happen--if I wanted someone, I'd go out and find them, but I'm not looking." He sipped cautiously at the new drink, and decided he liked it.
"I have friends, but they have their own lives. And they'd understand. I'm not planning on going anywhere, but they're not a good enough reason to..." he shrugged, making a vague hand gesture, not knowing how to explain to someone else that half the rush came from being a little bit reckless. And he didn't have a reason not to be.
"Saa ... I'd beg to differ, but that's what makes life interesting, ne?" Fuji wondered if this was perhaps going around in circles, at any rate, and decided it was time to change the subject. Sipping his drink, he asked, "Why does a self-professed loner come to busy places like All Bar None, I wonder?"
Kippei gave him a sardonic look. "Busy places are the best places to be a loner. It's much easier to get lost in a crowd. Everyone is already busy, they don't have time to pay attention to you." You could sit and watch and drink in peace, and ignore anyone who tried to speak to you; although if you sat in a corner, you weren't likely to be spoken to in the first place.
"Saa, there are other bars without hosts or hostesses, just as busy. All Bar None is the only one around here like it. Our job here is to approach everyone, loners or not." Fuji smiled, and shrugged gracefully. "Why not drink at home? No one would approach you there."
"I don't always come here," Kippei answered mildly, settling back lazily into his seat and looking around. "But people are entertaining to watch... drinking alone is boring, and half the fun of drinking is attempting to get home afterwards." His eyes are laughing; let Fuji infer from that as he will, that Kippei enjoys the danger of riding his bike with a slight buzz. It's not really dangerous, but he knows well enough that it is reckless.
Fuji laughed, too, understanding the draw of the other's job, now. The danger of the unknown, the thrill of taking a risk. It was almost akin to saying things to dangerous people, gauging their reactions, never a hundred percent sure what they would be. He reached out for his drink, cradling it in both hands for a moment, enjoying the cool moisture on the surface of the glass. The bartender caught Fuji's glance, and smiled.
Sipping from his glass, Fuji said, "As someone who enjoys your company, I hope your inebriated journeys back are safe and uneventful." His eyes were closed, but Fuji's smile sparkled with interest and mischief. "Unless you'd rather they weren't, of course." More drinks arrived, on cue.
Kippei shrugged. "Don't mind, either way. Makes life interesting." Danger was all part of the job, and his days off seemed to be rather lacking without it. He'd learned ways to make things more interesting for himself. That was only one of them.
"I can take care of myself," he assured Fuji with a lazy, cocky grin.
"Of course," Fuji agreed, raising a glass in salute. Tachibana's grin was really very sexy, he thought. With a smile, Fuji got up, and gracefully moved to sit beside the other. "Perhaps the lack of a thrill was why you said your days off were boring?"
Kippei had thought that point had been obvious, but if Fuji was just figuring it out, oh well. He wasn't used to having to explain himself to people. It would be no surprise if he wasn't very good at it.
"Mmmm," he answered, taking another drink and eyeing Fuji a bit warily as he moved closer. He was fairly certain that he had not been hitting on Fuji, although he had to admit to flirting, but he'd toned it down after he'd found out the other man's age and really, it would be awkward if Fuji decided that it didn't matter, and tried to offer him some more intimate company. In his experience, when someone sidled up to you like so, that was what was coming. That or drugs, but he wasn't betting on that. And unfortunately, however attractive Fuji might be, Kippei just did not feel comfortable taking advantage of someone so much younger. Although if he was paying for it, it was hardly taking advantage, but that was hardly the point.
