WHO: Hiruma Youichi, Hell Towers residents, YOU??? Lyrics and name aside, both guys AND gals are allowed! ANYONE.
WHERE: MANCAVE. HELL TOWERS. BROOKLYN.
WHEN: Freitag! Tonight! 8? 9? I forgot when I put the time for starting.
WARNINGS: Rated H for Hiruma. Underage drinking, gambling, and all the other fun stuff that an "H" rating implies!
SUMMARY:
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Comments 116
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Well, bartender. That was unexpected. "Just a beer. I don't care, whatever's back there," he demanded, and then went to flop on the couch with his drink. Bring it on.
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Of course he noticed those pants first. Damn, Alastair could work a pair of jeans.
"Yo."
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He tipped his chin toward Hiruma. "What's up?"
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Hiruma's smile faded, though only a bit, "Not much. Just waiting."
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And if he excused himself by saying that it was a mission to find out how normal males his age behaved and see if he felt comfortable doing the same, then he could almost persuade himself that it wasn't a pointless bit of frivolity.
...Almost.
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The back of his neck tingled in much the same way it did any time he felt he was being watched; the young man turned to stare blankly, silently, at the redhead, nearly challenging him to do something.
Anything.
What do you want?
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"Yo. Nope, right on fucking time! Kekeke. What'd ya bring, ne?"
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Not willing to initiate socialising just yet, he found himself in the arcade room, quarters in his pocket as he played his way through an older Tekken game.
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And so the blond crept closer, quite footfalls masked further by the dinging and ringing of the arcade and the jukebox's music. When he was close enough, he gently raked his nails down Rui's uncovered neck. That stupid lizard was going to jump halfway out of his skin.
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"Shit!" he exclaimed, head jerking back and twisting against the sudden feeling as his whole body shuddered. He whirled around and glared at Hiruma. "What was that for, ya--?!" Music sounded from the game as his character was beaten into a bloody pulp by the computer. "Ah, shit!"
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"Did I scaaaarre ya? You fuckin pussy."
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