fic for reiicharu
For: reiicharu
From: lysanderpuck
Title: Nino's Bizarre Adventures
Pairing/Focus: Nino/Aiba, with Sawajiri Erika and Sakurai Sho showing up thanks to Yashima Norito's meddling
Rating: PG
Warnings: This is very silly.
Summary: Nino gets sent on a cafe circuit and meets a few characters along the way.
Notes: So I tried my best and my best gave you this. I'm sorry? I hope you like it though!
Nino squinted at the business card in his hand, then turned his gaze up at the building in front of him. It was drab and old with a stained brick façade, but the pink hand-painted lettering on the string of windows on the third floor told him this was the place.
(“You don’t understand, Nino,” Yasshi pleaded, “it’s amazing. You won’t know until you go there.”)
Damn Yasshi. Why was Nino taking advice from his customers, anyway? He manned a manga café and Yasshi was just a regular who talked too much. He’d taken the business card just to make him go away.
But here Nino was in Akihabara, standing in front of a suspicious building tucked away in a quiet alley.
Pocket Maidens.
The stairs going up to the café had their bannisters wrapped in lace, and the walls were decorated with strings of rhinestone bows. The door had a large, pink lace doily draped and pinned to it, and Nino paused in front of it. “No,” he said out loud, and turned to go back down the stairs when a bell jingled gently to signify that the door had opened.
“Welcome, master,” came a high, hoarse voice from behind Nino. The girl had high, defined cheekbones, and her brown hair was tied up high and pinned back with a spray of small white roses. Her large hands were resting on her white apron as she bowed to him. “Won’t you come inside?”
“Aiba-chan, what the hell are you doing here?” Nino said exasperatedly, slapping himself in the forehead.
“Wh - Nino!” Aiba’s voice dropped back to his normal register, and he pushed Nino’s shoulder with one hand playfully. His nails were painted light pink. “I didn’t think you were this kind of guy, coming to a drag maid café.”
Nino was going to kill Yasshi.
“Someone I know gave me the card for this place. No, you know what, I’m going home. See you around,” Nino took a step back towards the stairs, but Aiba stopped him by grabbing onto his sleeve.
“Come inside, it’ll be fun! At least have something to eat, Nino. On the house!” Aiba wheedled.
Nino hated the fact that Aiba knew him so well; he could never turn down free anything, even if it was just a greasy hamburger handed to him by a dude in a dress.
The inside of the café was decorated just as cutely as the hallway, with lace tablecloths and pictures of cute girls in maid costumes, but Nino would bet money (not his money; maybe Aiba’s) that all of the pictures were of cross-dressing boys.
“Welcome, master,” Aiba said again, in his high pitched voice as he showed Nino to a table in the middle of the café. It had a single yellow rose in a crystal vase sitting in the center. Nino stared at the flower, daydreaming about throwing the rose in Aiba’s face.
“Please, master, let me know what you’d like, anything at all,” Aiba giggled, and brushed his fingers over Nino’s neck in a way that made Nino shiver.
“Hamburger,” Nino muttered, not even bothering to look at the menu. “And an iced coffee.” He gave up on being ornery, slouching in the seat as he watched Aiba place the order. Aiba had skinny legs, not shapely like a girl’s, but Nino couldn’t stop himself from watching Aiba walk in those heels. He had shaved all his leg hair off, and Nino wanted to brush his hands against the smooth-looking skin. He suddenly remembered the feeling of Aiba’s legs against his, and it made him shift in his seat.
“Here you go, master,” Aiba knelt by the table, placing the glass on a coaster decorated with a picture of a shiba inu dog. “I hope it’s to your taste.”
Nino could feel Aiba’s body heat on his leg, could see down his dress to the lacy bra held against his thin chest. Seeing Aiba like this reminded him of college, of when they were roommates and more often than not Nino had slept in Aiba’s bed instead of his own.
After college, they hadn’t drifted apart as much as they had gotten busy. He knew that Aiba had worked at a drag cafe café to support himself all through school, but had never bothered asking which one. Even though Aiba was in graduate school now for biochemical engineering, the café continued to be his main source of income. His complicated schedule kept him away from Nino most of the time. Nino had never been to the café before, never bothered going to see how Aiba acted when he was Masaki the girl, but now that he was watching Aiba set down his cutlery with a delicacy lacking in his usual movements, Nino regretted his stubbornness.
When Aiba brought him his hamburger complete with a ketchup winky face drawn on the rim of the plate, Nino grabbed his wrist. “What time do you get off work?”
Aiba giggled his high, hoarse giggle, and bumped Nino’s arm with his skirt-covered hip. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“You’re paying,” Nino said, tapping his fingertips on Aiba’s wrist.
“See you at seven,” Aiba replied with a grin, tucking a lock of Nino’s hair behind his ear before stepping away.
The café’s hamburger was pretty good. The date that night (complete with making out like desperate teenagers on Aiba’s couch and falling off onto the carpet) was better.
-----
It was less than two weeks later when he found himself in front of another café. This one was on the second floor of a modern looking building made of glass, and the café was simply called “Little Sister.”
The moment Nino opened the door, he was greeted with a brusque “what do you want?”
Goddamn it, Yasshi.
(“Nino, you’ll definitely enjoy this one,” Yasshi had reassured him, ushering him out of the office with a different business card. “Try to have the curry.”)
Nino could tell immediately why Yasshi had said try. The café was decorated plainly, with white paper tablecloths and wooden accents, but all of the currently occupied tables were covered in food stains.
Once he was seated, the waitress (her nametag spelled out ‘Sawaeri’ in katakana with little devil horns over the second and fourth syllables) slammed a glass of tea on the table so hard it splashed onto Nino’s shirt.
“Napkins,” she said, tossing them onto the wet table and sauntering away as Nino dabbed at the brown spot on his yellow t-shirt.
Nino was a gamer. He spent his nights with his fingers wrapped around a controller, the blue light of the TV screen or handheld console turning him ghost-white. He was not, however, an anime otaku, and this whole ‘tsundere’ concept was not his thing.
The girls were dressed in school uniforms, with their hair up in pigtails or ponytails, but Nino couldn’t find them cute. He didn’t need high-quality service, but he preferred going about his day without someone spilling food on him, no matter how cute she was.
“Curry, please,” he asked when Sawaeri came to take his order. She was cute, with round cheeks and a small face, but she rolled her eyes when he ordered and left the table without another word.
When the curry arrived it was thick and black, and Sawaeri took out a squeeze bottle from her apron. As Nino eyed her suspiciously, she shook the bottle roughly twice, then squirted a white sauce messily over his plate. Some of the sauce landed on the table. “Eat it,” she said, dropping a spoon onto the table with a clatter before walking away again.
“No wonder all the tablecloths are paper,” Nino grumbled, as he wiped away some of the sauce from where it had landed on his arm.
The curry was pretty good by Nino’s standards, and the white sauce was garlicky and gave it a tang. But Nino ate it in such a rush he barely tasted it, convinced that his waitress would at any moment come up behind him and shove his face into it.
When it was time to ask for the check, Sawaeri turned what were possibly the biggest puppy dog eyes Nino had ever seen to him.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice high and sweet. The corners of her mouth were turned down and Nino unexpectedly felt a pang in his chest at how sad she looked. “Was it because I was mean?”
“I won’t be mean next time,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. Her nails were painted light blue with white polka dots. “I promise.”
“I’ll…be back soon,” Nino found himself reassuring her, smiling against his better judgment when she clapped her hands in delight.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said as she showed him to the door, winking as she flashed him a peace sign.
“What the fuck was that?” Nino said out loud as he trudged down the stairs.
-----
The next time Nino found himself stupidly following Yasshi’s advice, it led him to Otome Road in Ikebukuro.
It was embarrassing enough walking down the street, trying to avoid the packs of girls giggling over yaoi doujinshi and idol goods in front of the specialty stores, but eventually he found himself in front of a classy red sign that read in cursive Birdwing.
(“I made you a reservation,” Yasshi said, handing over a red and silver business card. “Don’t be late.”)
The moment Nino took a step down the brick stairs, a man in a tuxedo appeared and bowed to him. "Welcome home, master," the man said, and Nino looked down at his ratty hole-covered jeans and flip flops.
"Uh, yeah," Nino said, as he stepped onto the expensive-looking, floral carpet.
“Right this way,” he directed, and Nino followed him down a hallway to another man in a tuxedo who was already bowing as he approached. When the man straightened up, Nino could see his undercut. He had high cheekbones but round cheeks, and Nino adjusted his posture to be straighter when he saw the man’s face.
“I will be your butler for the evening, master,” he said. Nino couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. “My name is Sakurai. Let me show you to your seat.”
The main dining area was outfitted with two very large crystal chandeliers, with multiple tables in the center of the room. The room was also lined with smaller tables placed against the wall that were hidden behind draped curtains, and as Nino followed Sakurai through the restaurant, he noticed that the people sitting there were all women dining alone. Nino was seated at one of these tables, and the curtains gave him privacy while allowing him to look around curiously.
The food looked straight out of a five-star hotel restaurant, with flower garnishes and small portions, and Nino’s stomach grumbled unhappily just at the sight of a butler presenting a nearby table with a salad that was composed of two pieces of asparagus and an artfully plated slice of mango. This was precisely the sort of food and atmosphere that made Nino feel small and gave him indigestion.
He ordered the plainest food he could find (a tea set of finger sandwiches and scones), and was sipping tea when his butler came back.
“It is rare that young men come by themselves,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him as he spoke to Nino.
“Ah…my friend made the reservation for me,” Nino admitted, placing his own hands in his lap. Being here made him feel like he should be on his best behavior and he squirmed a little against the soft couch he was sitting on.
“I hope our hospitality is to your liking,” Sakurai said, tilting his head in greeting. “What do you do as employment?”
“I manage a manga café,” Nino explained, relaxing as they fell into an easy conversation of small talk. “Nothing really special.”
“All work is necessary,” Sakurai said with a slight smile, “whether it be managing a manga café or being a butler.”
“You have a lot of admirers,” Nino noted, glancing around at all the women in the room. “Being a butler probably gets you more dates than working at a manga café does.”
“Would that I were interested,” Sakurai said with a slight grin, and Nino quirked an eyebrow. He leaned forward in interest, his smile turning sly. This was more like it.
Nino left the butler café full and slightly sick (he had left most of the chocolate cake that had been presented to him for dessert; it had tasted like it was made with a pound of chocolate and he simply couldn’t handle it), but also with Sakurai’s phone number tucked into his pocket.
He couldn’t wait to find out what his butler was like outside of the tux.
-----
“Here you go,” Nino said to Yasshi when his customer came up to the desk to pay for his time, handing him multiple receipts.
“What’s this?” Yasshi asked with a frown, looking through the thin pieces of paper. “Why are you charging me so much? I was only here for two hours.”
“1500 yen at the drag café, 2000 at the tsundere café, and 5000 at the butler café. You made me go, you pay for them.” Nino poked him in the arm with his pen. “Thanks for the food.”
“Who said I’m going to pay for this?” Yasshi squawked indignantly, putting the receipts back down. “I was just broadening your horizons!”
“On your dime,” Nino replied with a shrug. “You can pay next time. I’m generous enough to wait.”
Yasshi grumbled as he shoved the receipts into his wallet. “Ungrateful little bastard.”
“Thanks, come again,” Nino called as Yasshi stepped out of the café, then rustled his phone out of his pocket to invite Aiba over that night.
From: lysanderpuck
Title: Nino's Bizarre Adventures
Pairing/Focus: Nino/Aiba, with Sawajiri Erika and Sakurai Sho showing up thanks to Yashima Norito's meddling
Rating: PG
Warnings: This is very silly.
Summary: Nino gets sent on a cafe circuit and meets a few characters along the way.
Notes: So I tried my best and my best gave you this. I'm sorry? I hope you like it though!
Nino squinted at the business card in his hand, then turned his gaze up at the building in front of him. It was drab and old with a stained brick façade, but the pink hand-painted lettering on the string of windows on the third floor told him this was the place.
(“You don’t understand, Nino,” Yasshi pleaded, “it’s amazing. You won’t know until you go there.”)
Damn Yasshi. Why was Nino taking advice from his customers, anyway? He manned a manga café and Yasshi was just a regular who talked too much. He’d taken the business card just to make him go away.
But here Nino was in Akihabara, standing in front of a suspicious building tucked away in a quiet alley.
Pocket Maidens.
The stairs going up to the café had their bannisters wrapped in lace, and the walls were decorated with strings of rhinestone bows. The door had a large, pink lace doily draped and pinned to it, and Nino paused in front of it. “No,” he said out loud, and turned to go back down the stairs when a bell jingled gently to signify that the door had opened.
“Welcome, master,” came a high, hoarse voice from behind Nino. The girl had high, defined cheekbones, and her brown hair was tied up high and pinned back with a spray of small white roses. Her large hands were resting on her white apron as she bowed to him. “Won’t you come inside?”
“Aiba-chan, what the hell are you doing here?” Nino said exasperatedly, slapping himself in the forehead.
“Wh - Nino!” Aiba’s voice dropped back to his normal register, and he pushed Nino’s shoulder with one hand playfully. His nails were painted light pink. “I didn’t think you were this kind of guy, coming to a drag maid café.”
Nino was going to kill Yasshi.
“Someone I know gave me the card for this place. No, you know what, I’m going home. See you around,” Nino took a step back towards the stairs, but Aiba stopped him by grabbing onto his sleeve.
“Come inside, it’ll be fun! At least have something to eat, Nino. On the house!” Aiba wheedled.
Nino hated the fact that Aiba knew him so well; he could never turn down free anything, even if it was just a greasy hamburger handed to him by a dude in a dress.
The inside of the café was decorated just as cutely as the hallway, with lace tablecloths and pictures of cute girls in maid costumes, but Nino would bet money (not his money; maybe Aiba’s) that all of the pictures were of cross-dressing boys.
“Welcome, master,” Aiba said again, in his high pitched voice as he showed Nino to a table in the middle of the café. It had a single yellow rose in a crystal vase sitting in the center. Nino stared at the flower, daydreaming about throwing the rose in Aiba’s face.
“Please, master, let me know what you’d like, anything at all,” Aiba giggled, and brushed his fingers over Nino’s neck in a way that made Nino shiver.
“Hamburger,” Nino muttered, not even bothering to look at the menu. “And an iced coffee.” He gave up on being ornery, slouching in the seat as he watched Aiba place the order. Aiba had skinny legs, not shapely like a girl’s, but Nino couldn’t stop himself from watching Aiba walk in those heels. He had shaved all his leg hair off, and Nino wanted to brush his hands against the smooth-looking skin. He suddenly remembered the feeling of Aiba’s legs against his, and it made him shift in his seat.
“Here you go, master,” Aiba knelt by the table, placing the glass on a coaster decorated with a picture of a shiba inu dog. “I hope it’s to your taste.”
Nino could feel Aiba’s body heat on his leg, could see down his dress to the lacy bra held against his thin chest. Seeing Aiba like this reminded him of college, of when they were roommates and more often than not Nino had slept in Aiba’s bed instead of his own.
After college, they hadn’t drifted apart as much as they had gotten busy. He knew that Aiba had worked at a drag cafe café to support himself all through school, but had never bothered asking which one. Even though Aiba was in graduate school now for biochemical engineering, the café continued to be his main source of income. His complicated schedule kept him away from Nino most of the time. Nino had never been to the café before, never bothered going to see how Aiba acted when he was Masaki the girl, but now that he was watching Aiba set down his cutlery with a delicacy lacking in his usual movements, Nino regretted his stubbornness.
When Aiba brought him his hamburger complete with a ketchup winky face drawn on the rim of the plate, Nino grabbed his wrist. “What time do you get off work?”
Aiba giggled his high, hoarse giggle, and bumped Nino’s arm with his skirt-covered hip. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“You’re paying,” Nino said, tapping his fingertips on Aiba’s wrist.
“See you at seven,” Aiba replied with a grin, tucking a lock of Nino’s hair behind his ear before stepping away.
The café’s hamburger was pretty good. The date that night (complete with making out like desperate teenagers on Aiba’s couch and falling off onto the carpet) was better.
-----
It was less than two weeks later when he found himself in front of another café. This one was on the second floor of a modern looking building made of glass, and the café was simply called “Little Sister.”
The moment Nino opened the door, he was greeted with a brusque “what do you want?”
Goddamn it, Yasshi.
(“Nino, you’ll definitely enjoy this one,” Yasshi had reassured him, ushering him out of the office with a different business card. “Try to have the curry.”)
Nino could tell immediately why Yasshi had said try. The café was decorated plainly, with white paper tablecloths and wooden accents, but all of the currently occupied tables were covered in food stains.
Once he was seated, the waitress (her nametag spelled out ‘Sawaeri’ in katakana with little devil horns over the second and fourth syllables) slammed a glass of tea on the table so hard it splashed onto Nino’s shirt.
“Napkins,” she said, tossing them onto the wet table and sauntering away as Nino dabbed at the brown spot on his yellow t-shirt.
Nino was a gamer. He spent his nights with his fingers wrapped around a controller, the blue light of the TV screen or handheld console turning him ghost-white. He was not, however, an anime otaku, and this whole ‘tsundere’ concept was not his thing.
The girls were dressed in school uniforms, with their hair up in pigtails or ponytails, but Nino couldn’t find them cute. He didn’t need high-quality service, but he preferred going about his day without someone spilling food on him, no matter how cute she was.
“Curry, please,” he asked when Sawaeri came to take his order. She was cute, with round cheeks and a small face, but she rolled her eyes when he ordered and left the table without another word.
When the curry arrived it was thick and black, and Sawaeri took out a squeeze bottle from her apron. As Nino eyed her suspiciously, she shook the bottle roughly twice, then squirted a white sauce messily over his plate. Some of the sauce landed on the table. “Eat it,” she said, dropping a spoon onto the table with a clatter before walking away again.
“No wonder all the tablecloths are paper,” Nino grumbled, as he wiped away some of the sauce from where it had landed on his arm.
The curry was pretty good by Nino’s standards, and the white sauce was garlicky and gave it a tang. But Nino ate it in such a rush he barely tasted it, convinced that his waitress would at any moment come up behind him and shove his face into it.
When it was time to ask for the check, Sawaeri turned what were possibly the biggest puppy dog eyes Nino had ever seen to him.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice high and sweet. The corners of her mouth were turned down and Nino unexpectedly felt a pang in his chest at how sad she looked. “Was it because I was mean?”
“I won’t be mean next time,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. Her nails were painted light blue with white polka dots. “I promise.”
“I’ll…be back soon,” Nino found himself reassuring her, smiling against his better judgment when she clapped her hands in delight.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said as she showed him to the door, winking as she flashed him a peace sign.
“What the fuck was that?” Nino said out loud as he trudged down the stairs.
-----
The next time Nino found himself stupidly following Yasshi’s advice, it led him to Otome Road in Ikebukuro.
It was embarrassing enough walking down the street, trying to avoid the packs of girls giggling over yaoi doujinshi and idol goods in front of the specialty stores, but eventually he found himself in front of a classy red sign that read in cursive Birdwing.
(“I made you a reservation,” Yasshi said, handing over a red and silver business card. “Don’t be late.”)
The moment Nino took a step down the brick stairs, a man in a tuxedo appeared and bowed to him. "Welcome home, master," the man said, and Nino looked down at his ratty hole-covered jeans and flip flops.
"Uh, yeah," Nino said, as he stepped onto the expensive-looking, floral carpet.
“Right this way,” he directed, and Nino followed him down a hallway to another man in a tuxedo who was already bowing as he approached. When the man straightened up, Nino could see his undercut. He had high cheekbones but round cheeks, and Nino adjusted his posture to be straighter when he saw the man’s face.
“I will be your butler for the evening, master,” he said. Nino couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. “My name is Sakurai. Let me show you to your seat.”
The main dining area was outfitted with two very large crystal chandeliers, with multiple tables in the center of the room. The room was also lined with smaller tables placed against the wall that were hidden behind draped curtains, and as Nino followed Sakurai through the restaurant, he noticed that the people sitting there were all women dining alone. Nino was seated at one of these tables, and the curtains gave him privacy while allowing him to look around curiously.
The food looked straight out of a five-star hotel restaurant, with flower garnishes and small portions, and Nino’s stomach grumbled unhappily just at the sight of a butler presenting a nearby table with a salad that was composed of two pieces of asparagus and an artfully plated slice of mango. This was precisely the sort of food and atmosphere that made Nino feel small and gave him indigestion.
He ordered the plainest food he could find (a tea set of finger sandwiches and scones), and was sipping tea when his butler came back.
“It is rare that young men come by themselves,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him as he spoke to Nino.
“Ah…my friend made the reservation for me,” Nino admitted, placing his own hands in his lap. Being here made him feel like he should be on his best behavior and he squirmed a little against the soft couch he was sitting on.
“I hope our hospitality is to your liking,” Sakurai said, tilting his head in greeting. “What do you do as employment?”
“I manage a manga café,” Nino explained, relaxing as they fell into an easy conversation of small talk. “Nothing really special.”
“All work is necessary,” Sakurai said with a slight smile, “whether it be managing a manga café or being a butler.”
“You have a lot of admirers,” Nino noted, glancing around at all the women in the room. “Being a butler probably gets you more dates than working at a manga café does.”
“Would that I were interested,” Sakurai said with a slight grin, and Nino quirked an eyebrow. He leaned forward in interest, his smile turning sly. This was more like it.
Nino left the butler café full and slightly sick (he had left most of the chocolate cake that had been presented to him for dessert; it had tasted like it was made with a pound of chocolate and he simply couldn’t handle it), but also with Sakurai’s phone number tucked into his pocket.
He couldn’t wait to find out what his butler was like outside of the tux.
-----
“Here you go,” Nino said to Yasshi when his customer came up to the desk to pay for his time, handing him multiple receipts.
“What’s this?” Yasshi asked with a frown, looking through the thin pieces of paper. “Why are you charging me so much? I was only here for two hours.”
“1500 yen at the drag café, 2000 at the tsundere café, and 5000 at the butler café. You made me go, you pay for them.” Nino poked him in the arm with his pen. “Thanks for the food.”
“Who said I’m going to pay for this?” Yasshi squawked indignantly, putting the receipts back down. “I was just broadening your horizons!”
“On your dime,” Nino replied with a shrug. “You can pay next time. I’m generous enough to wait.”
Yasshi grumbled as he shoved the receipts into his wallet. “Ungrateful little bastard.”
“Thanks, come again,” Nino called as Yasshi stepped out of the café, then rustled his phone out of his pocket to invite Aiba over that night.