“-the bedroom?”
“No, thank you,” Hokuto says, trying to make his tone as bored and uninterested as possible while shouting across the loud night club music. “I really don’t need to see any of your rooms. I’m not coming. Please leave me alone.”
The man doesn’t give up. He lowers his black sunglasses and winks at Hokuto over the frame. Who wears sunglasses in a night club? “Come on, pretty boy, don’t be such a prude. What’s your name?”
Hokuto closes his eyes for a moment, praying for strength. Sure, he wouldn’t need to be polite to an unknown sleaze-ball trying to hit on him. He could just tell him to fuck off, but he kind of doesn’t want to sink to his level.
“Alright, fuck off.”
A warm hand appears on Hokuto’s shoulder and he startles, unable to believe his terrible luck with drunken gropers tonight, until he sees the new guy’s face and recognizes Morimoto from the marketing team. The lights above color his face pink and blue, and he looks different from what he usually does in the office, now that he’s wearing his casual clothes, but it’s definitely him. And he looks good in his white t-shirt and black cap.
“I saw him first,” the sleaze-ball grumbles, trying to shoo Morimoto away. Hokuto raises his brows, frustrated. Why are drunk people always so persistent?
Morimoto meets his eyes for a second before he looks back at the man. He tilts his head and raises his chin, his hand firmly on Hokuto's shoulder still. His whole attitude radiates scorn as he chuckles. “Oh, but he happens to be my boyfriend. And he said he doesn’t want your company, so get lost.”
A tingle of surprise and excitement ripples through Hokuto’s body like a wave of goose bumps.
“What, you guys are like gay or what?” the unknown man spits, his face twisting in disgust before he turns and stumbles away.
“Because whatever he was suggesting to you wasn’t gay, huh,” Shintaro snorts. Disappointingly, he withdraws to a more socially acceptable distance, though he stays close enough that they can hear each other. “Sorry, I happened to overhear your conversation. I hope you don’t mind he thinks you’re queer now. I figured you probably wouldn’t, but. Yeah.”
Hokuto grins at him, nervously pushing his fingertips into the back pockets of his slacks. “What makes you think I don’t mind?”
Morimoto shrugs, but Hokuto gets the feeling it’s more about him searching for words rather than actually not knowing. He doesn’t mind waiting.
“I saw this rainbow flag pin on your bag last spring,” Morimoto finally admits. Whatever Hokuto expected to hear, that’s not it. Sure, he did have such a pin on his bag, but it was absolutely tiny and he only carried it for the week before the Tokyo Pride parade. He isn’t sure which part surprises him more: that Morimoto noticed it in the first place, or that he still remembers it. Either way, it feels nice.
“So, well, I better get going. Don’t want to overstay my welcome,” Morimoto says and shifts on his feet. “Have a nice-”
“Wait,” Hokuto says quickly, “Thank you. For helping me.”
“You were doing fine yourself,” Morimoto points out, waving his hand like it was no big deal at all, “I just thought you’d get rid of him faster with a little help.”
And, yes, he is right. Hokuto wasn’t in trouble, and he wasn’t feeling threatened either. “But it was still nice of you to help,” he says, because that’s true as well. “So, um. Could I treat you a drink to thank you?”
Morimoto’s face does something funny: his eyes widen and he lets out a quick laugh as he, too, stuffs his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans.
“Nah, I really wasn’t trying to- I didn’t do it because of that,” he says, but he looks like he's trying to suppress a smile at the same time.
He wants to stay, Hokuto realizes. But he doesn’t want to appear pushy, especially after what just happened. That must be it. And that’s- That’s sweet. And good for him, Hokuto wants him to stay as well.
“If you won’t accept the treat, will you at least come get new drinks together with me?” he tries, amazed at his own boldness. He probably shouldn’t drink any more tonight, but the truth is, he’s been wanting to get to know Morimoto better for a while, and he really, really doesn’t want to let the chance slip out of his hands now that it’s so miraculously appeared in front of him.
Morimoto accepts the new offer with a delighted smile, and Hokuto’s heart makes a hopeful flip in his chest, no matter how much he tells it to calm down and be sensible. Just because Morimoto noticed his rainbow flag pin, and was ready to play-act his boyfriend in a pinch, it doesn’t mean he’s actually gay. But, he thinks as he follows Morimoto towards the bar, eyes wandering from his black cap to his neck and the wide shoulders, it probably won’t hurt to try and see.
When they both have beers in their hands, Morimoto gives Hokuto a curious look.
“I haven’t seen you here a lot,” he says. “Never before, actually.”
Hokuto chuckles. “That’s because I never come here. I’m really not much of a party animal.”
“So why are you here tonight?”
“Afterwork. All my team members are somewhere here,” Hokuto answers, indicating around the room with his hand. “What about you, Morimoto?”
“Shintaro,” Morimoto corrects. “I’m just here on my own. Tonight’s DJ is great. He tends to play all my favorites, so I come whenever I see he's scheduled here.”
“Shintaro,” Hokuto repeats in a low voice, just to try out the name, and Shintaro beams at him. “Alright, then you should call me Hokuto, too.”
“Noted, Hokuto,” Shintaro says and winks an eye at him. His smile does things to Hokuto, and he swallows. He is about seventy percent sure that Shintaro is flirting with him. Or at least sixty-five. He takes a long sip from his beer, trying to come up with something to say.
“Where did you get that pin of yours?” Shintaro asks. “I like it. It’s subtle.”
Eighty percent?
“I ordered it on the net like three years ago when I still lived in Shizuoka,” Hokuto says and hesitates, wondering how much to elaborate. Shintaro was alright with this stuff, he reminds himself. It’s safe to tell him. “We didn’t have a pride parade there, so I bought the pin to…um. You know.” He takes a new sip of his beer.
“To show that you belong?” Shintaro asks, his voice low and eyes tentative. He lifts his foot to the footrest of Hokuto’s barstool. His knee is so close that Hokuto could put his hand on it if he wanted to. If he dared to.
“Yeah,” he says, eyes drawn from Shintaro’s dark, earnest eyes to his lips before he can help it. They are very nice lips. And they currently curl upwards.
"Do you dance?" Shintaro suddenly asks out of nowhere, nodding at the mid-floor full of people moving with the music.
"Not often, and not well," Hokuto admits.
"But you still do," Shintaro finishes for him, laughing. "Come on, I'll show you how!"
He takes Hokuto's hand and pulls him to his feet. Hokuto follows easily, allowing himself be lead into the crowd. There, Shintaro places his hand on Hokuto's waist, the question in his eyes. Hokuto nods and takes a step closer, slowly placing his own hands on Shintaro's shoulders. His heart beats madly, and he feels unreal, somehow.
He rarely drinks, and he rarely dances. And he never, ever dances skin-to-skin with strangers.
Sure, Shintaro isn't a complete stranger. Hokuto knows his name. He knows where he works at. He knows Shintaro likes to go surfing on weekends and returns to the office on Mondays with a brown, sun-kissed face and a refreshed spring in his step. He knows Shintaro's smiles are wide and his laughs loud enough to echo from one open-space office to another. That's plenty of things he knows.
Now, he also knows that Shintaro is brave enough to stand against harassing jerks. And that he can dance. Hokuto's skin tingles warmly at the spot where Shintaro's hand rests on his lower back.
Alright, he can do this. He has a good sense of rhythm, and he knows he can move his limbs quite smoothly when he wants to. As for dance moves, well. He knows about two, and while both would be fitting on a 90s' disco floor, they'd probably just look ridiculous if he tried them here.
"Is there something on my shirt?" Shintaro asks, and Hokuto knows he's been staring.
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Hokuto admits. "I told you I don't know how to dance."
Shintaro laughs, but the laugh is warm and affectionate, not a hint of meanness in it. "But I promised to show you. Just let me lead."
He does, and to his surprise Hokuto finds he's actually having fun. Shintaro holds him close, sometimes by his waist, sometimes by his hands, and it's weirdly easy to follow Shintaro's lead. And even though Hokuto takes a lot of missteps whenever he tries to improvise anything at all, Shintaro always catches him before he stumbles.
When the beat of the music goes down for a slower song, they slow down, too. Hokuto tries to catch his breath, panting and laughing, and feeling drunk by more than just the alcohol. Shintaro's arms are warm and strong, and wrapped tightly around Hokuto's waist. His chest, pressed against Hokuto's, is quickly moving with his breathing, and the look in his eyes as he stares into Hokuto's eyes - even if Hokuto hadn't already been attracted to him, he would be now.
Hokuto tightens his own hold around Shintaro's shoulders, tentatively leaning in. Shintaro meets him halfway, pressing his lips on Hokuto's, and Hokuto simply melts into it. Shintaro smiles, teasing Hokuto's lower lip with his tongue. Hokuto lets him in, humming in surprise when Shintaro's hands slip into his back pockets.
It's dizzyingly good, and Hokuto wants it to go on forever. He kisses Shintaro back just as eagerly, mind empty of everything else, and whines into Shintaro's mouth when Shintaro gives his ass a nice little squeeze.
"We've gotta stop, or find somewhere else to continue this," Shintaro murmurs against Hokuto's lips. Suddenly it all returns to his attention: the bar, the music, the people around them. Hokuto feels his face heat up when he remembers his workmates are somewhere in this crowd, too. If someone saw them-
"Wanna go home with me?" Shintaro asks in a low voice, speaking right into Hokuto's ear. Hokuto hesitates. It's an alluring offer, but he also really wants to follow his own plan of staying here some time more, then going home, and sleeping in his own bed tonight. He looks up, meeting Shintaro's eyes.
"Will you feel hurt if I say no?" he says slowly, trying not to feel embarrassed. "I mean, I really want to go with you, but. Just. I'm not great with spontaneous stuff like this."
Shintaro smiles and shrugs, gracefully swallowing the rejection. "It's alright. That's why I asked instead of just taking you home."
"Tomorrow though," Hokuto rushes to say, "If you're free, we could meet up tomorrow evening."
"Is that a date you're suggesting?" Shintaro teases, but he is clearly delighted about the offer.
"I mean, I guess?" Hokuto says, unable to suppress his urge to smile. "And I wouldn't say no if you'd like to take me home then?"
That's a deal, and Shintaro seals it with another deep kiss, which Hokuto keenly returns. He stays for a few songs more, letting Shintaro show him all his best dance moves, and before he leaves, they exchange phone numbers.
"See you tomorrow then," Shintaro says, having walked Hokuto to the doors of the club. His smile makes Hokuto's heart flutter again.
He wasn’t expecting much anything when he reluctantly joined his workmates after the actual afterwork party, so it’s probably pointless to say the evening exceeded his expectations - but it did. And as he walks towards the train station, it makes him smile too. He isn’t sure what might be starting here, but it’s definitely something new and thrilling.