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It was a nice enough place to end up, dingy enough to be comfortable but posh enough to keep it in good spirits. The small amount of alcohol he’d consumed spreading through his limbs to lift the butterflies in his stomach as he crossed one leg over the other where he sat.
It’s not that he had any reason to be anxious, save for an interaction with a particular individual who Giyuu was presently trying his best to ignore, that’s just the way he is. Especially in an unknown environment such as this. He’s passed by the place often enough, just never been inside until now.
It had been a trying day and he had the evening off. Just don’t go overboard, he repeated to himself, fussing with the condensated glass between his hands; he’d been sitting there long enough for the ice to melt.
He looked over to the dim bar, light bouncing off the rows of glasses and bottles in a spangly sort of way that was pretty. It seemed to be a slow night, the staff going back and forth fulfilling their duties only occasionally needing to pour a drink for someone with minimal fuss. He gets it, no one really wants to work in a pub, but for some the late hours are necessary.
Raising his glass to his lips, his eyes lock on to the man from before, a sentient roar of fire to be exact. Far too friendly for a man spending his Thursday night pretending to show interest in the lives of, Giyuu decided, a rather drab crowd. Dampened by each of their own progressions in to mellow nothingness.
The man had fulfilled his order with a beaming smile that held no lies, no pretence that is usually needed in hospitality; but a smile so genuinely radiant and happy-to-see-you that giyuu thought he might trip over at the blessing of being able to behold such a person. A piece of the sun to light up this dark space he’d found himself in.
Amidst his gay panic from his vantage point in the booth he was occupying, he made his decision and downed the rest of his now watery whisky coke concoction, only wincing slightly, and stood himself up with empty glass in hand.
Approaching the bar, he set the glass down on the mahogany at the same time the sunny barman flashed him another eye crinkling grin. This was bad.
“Would you like another?”
Clearing his throat slightly, not wanting to embarrass himself.
“Yes, please.” Nodding, he turned around and went about pouring his drink.
“First time here? What’s your name?” He glanced over his shoulder at Giyuu, hands continuing to fly over bottles, a testament to someone who’s likely been in the same place for too long.
“It’s Giyuu,” remembering his manners “and you?”
“Kyoujuro!” Kyoujuro turns back to the bar and places his fresh drink in front of him, and extends his hand. Giyuu takes the hand offered to him and shakes it, noting the broad warmth enveloping his own hand. “Nice to meet you!”
“You too.” Giyuu’s smile returned to his face, it was contagious. Kyoujuro tapped the screen of his till a few times, presumably adding his new drink to his tab then leant with his elbows on the bar and levelled his gaze at him. It was only just intense enough to be slightly unnerving, but liquid gold and warm enough to make Giyuu swallow the lump forming in his throat.
“Do you live around here? I see you walking past quite a lot.”
“Hm, I don’t live far from here, but I work nearby so I come by this way all the time.” Glancing off to the side, Giyuu notes the lamplit street through the wide windows of the building. It was indeed much easier to see outside than it is to see inside.
“Oh! We’re neighbours then.” Kyoujuro’s smile widened around a silent breath of a laugh. “What do you do?”
Whether it be the liquid courage in his hands or the disarmingly kind man in front of him, Giyuu was sure he could blame either of them for opening up. He tucked a stray hair behind his ear.
“I work at the camera shop at the end of the road. Developing film mostly, but” he hesitates briefly, “I take my own photos as well.”
Kyoujuro’s eyes soften at that, seeing something that Giyuu’s not sure of.
“That’s great. I’d love to see them sometime.”
Not entirely sure how to respond to the invitation, Giyuu nods and takes a gulp of his drink. Kyoujuro’s smile lifts once again as he rises up and away from the bar, taking a beer mat as he went and scribbling something on it with a pen pulled from his back pocket as he moves to the side.
Then all of a sudden he’s rounding the edge of the bar and pulling a thick, plain black overcoat off a wall hook and over his shoulders. It suited him.
“Obanai, I’m taking five!” He calls out to his sole colleague for the night. Obanai, a rather short man with choppy hair and a surgical mask covering his mouth, responds with a disinterested hum before turning his attention back to the pretty girl he seemed to be talking to. A total opposite to Obanai; she had big pink hair and matching flushed cheeks. What an odd bunch.
He doesn’t have much time to dwell on them though, Kyoujuro is adjusting the lapels of his coat while approaching him.
“Come with me?” Kyoujuro plants a hand between his shoulder blades, dragging away as he breezes past him and out the front door. Steeling himself, Giyuu once again found himself downing the remains of his drink before following in his footsteps.
Stepping out in to the cold, he sees Kyoujuro crouching off to the side, cigarette hanging from the fingers resting on his knee. Giyuu steps over and crouches down next to him.
There’s a brief silence as Giyuu wraps his head around something to say while Kyoujuro brings the cigarette to his mouth, the end of it sizzling to life as he hollows out his cheeks. Giyuu wonders if he feels as lost as he does.
Grasping on the only straw he has, Giyuu speaks first, rephrasing a few times in his head.
“Do you like it here?” Kyoujuro turns those eyes on Giyuu with a hum and Giyuu flounders a little bit, “You seem to enjoy it.”
“Hm, it’s not what I’d choose as a career, but I’m a student. It pays enough to keep me going.” He shuffles in place to face Giyuu better. “I’m majoring in history. I think I’d like to teach, but we’ll see.” Exhaling a billow of smoke, he went on, “What about you? Do you photograph professionally?”
“Just a hobby.” Eyes sliding away from Kyoujuro to fix on a flickering storefront sign, “I don’t really know what I want to do, but the shop pays enough. Sometimes I enter photography competitions. There’s a small money prize for participation, so.”
Kyoujuro’s watching him quietly, features obscured in the minimal light cast by the just too far off street lamp and the few shops still open around them. Giyuu wishes to see him in the daylight; how his features would come to life in the sun.
Feeling a vague heat come to his cheekbones, Giyuu thinks of how beautiful he’d capture on his clunky old Konica; smile burned in to the film, grainy quality of it unmatched and timeless.
Stubbing out the butt of his cigarette in the concrete before him, Kyoujuro shifts closer to Giyuu. Bicep brushing against his own as he folds his arms over his knees and rests his head atop them, looking upwards at Giyuu with w smile in those golden eyes for all like he’s the only other person in the world. Who could ever be so fortunate.
“The thing I enjoy most about this job,” Kyoujuro speaks softly, “is that sometimes I get to meet interesting people like you.” He lifts a hand up towards Giyuu’s face, fingers brushing the hair out of his eyes. He might have stopped breathing.
“You just stumble in out of nowhere and light up my whole day.”
Giyuu wants to mention that it was in fact Kyoujuro who had lit up his day, his week, but found himself stuck- stuck under this mans gently scrutiny. He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as Kyoujuro’s hand traces away from his face and stands up.
Holding out a hand to help Giyuu stand, he takes it and hails himself up. Blinking away the mild head rush, he finds something card like in his hand. Lifting it to eye level, he just about notices the eleven digits of a phone number.
Snapping his head up to look at Kyoujuro, who was already backing away towards the door; smile turned just the shy side of coy, blush of his own high on his cheeks, before retreating back inside.
Tucking the beermat -he belatedly realises- turned writing material in to his pocket, Giyuu stares at the closing door for a moment before following indoors himself. If given the chance, he believes he’d follow that heat forever, hold it close to his chest with all he’s got; if Kyoujuro would let him.
Looking up to see Kyoujuro returned behind the bar, Giyuu finds his expression mirrored in his own, turning away only once he has to get back to work. Giyuu in turn opts to sit on one of the barstools at the end of the bar, far enough away to not be crowding, close enough for comfort.
Yeah, he thinks. It’ll be alright.