Chapter Text
The bar was busy tonight—bustling with loud, drunken conversations and headache-inducing music paired with different colored lights strobing to the beat. The dance floor was flooded. Some people were dancing, some were making out, and some were too drunk to even stand up straight, bouncing off of everyone else.
Isagi watched them from the other side of the bar, wondering what it would be like to have that little care. Damn, they really just don’t care.
He wasn’t much of a party guy, and to be truthful, bars weren’t his scene. He’d much rather be at home drinking by himself, but being the people-pleaser he was, he came out just to make his best friend and ex-lover, Bachira, happy. Bachira had invited him out to celebrate Isagi’s new job.
The two of them had dated for five years on and off before ultimately deciding they were better off as friends. It was Bachira who had broken things off, wanting to get out and explore new people. Isagi had known it was coming, but it still hurt when it happened. They fooled around a few times after that—old habits die hard. Now they had a surprisingly healthy friendship, with only occasional thoughts of "what could’ve been" snaking their way into Isagi’s mind.
Isagi sighed as he was reminded of just how single he was, tuning back into his conversation with Bachira. Bachira was, yet again, telling him about one of his "sexcapades." Isagi scrunched his face in disgust as Bachira gave way too much detail. Bachira enthusiastically continued his story about how he fucked some random guy in his car last weekend, raising his knee vulgarly to imitate the position they were in. The image burned itself into Isagi’s head.
Isagi wanted to judge and proclaim his superiority for preferring actual relationships over hookups, but he couldn’t. Quiet as it was kept, he wondered if hooking up was the only way for him to get some action. Maybe his standards were too high, or he cared too much. Still, he couldn’t shake his longing for a real connection. Plus, he couldn’t be too mad at Bachira’s story; the two of them had definitely done worse when they were together and even when they weren’t.
“I’m telling you, this guy had one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen,” Bachira exclaimed. Isagi sighed again.
“That’s nice,” he said, trying his best to seem interested. He picked up the shot glass in front of him and brought it to his lips, tilting his head back as he poured the liquid into his mouth. He grunted as the bitter taste took over and the alcohol burned his throat on its way down.
“He was kind of an asshole, though. But the sex was good, so I consider it a win.” Bachira shrugged as he mixed a margarita for a group of girls who had been patiently waiting by the bar.
One of the girls smiled and winked at Isagi. Isagi smiled back, trying to be polite, but nothing beyond that. She wore a skin-tight red dress that barely covered her figure and had long, silky black hair. She was obviously younger than Isagi, which made him feel weird since he was almost thirty. For him, anything under twenty-five was off-limits—yet another boundary keeping him out of the hookup game.
“You gonna tap that?” Bachira asked, sliding Isagi another drink. This one was different than the last; it was darker in color and had a small umbrella sticking out of it. Isagi would usually stick to shots or a rum and coke, but he trusted Bachira.
“Nah. She’s a pretty girl, though.” He shrugged, and Bachira sighed.
“She’s checking you out.” Bachira smirked. “You should go talk to her. Maybe you’ll finally get laid.”
Being a bartender at one of Tokyo’s most famous nightclubs had its perks for Bachira. He was hooking up with people left and right, enjoying his freedom. Seeing Isagi be a bleeding heart, waiting for love, made Bachira feel almost guilty—like he had thrown his ex-lover to the wolves of singleness.
“Right, and then afterward I’ll find out they’re an asshole and never talk to them again,” Isagi said with a little sass. “I want more than that.”
“Hey, don’t knock it 'til you try it,” Bachira said as he looked down at a receipt, checking a drink order. Isagi shrugged, deciding to drop the subject. He knew Bachira would never understand where he was coming from.
“So how’s the job? Have you met the big boss, Rin?” Bachira asked while making drinks.
“Nope. I’ve been in training. I start as his assistant tomorrow,” Isagi answered, sipping his drink. This one was sweet and barely tasted like alcohol—dangerous. He sipped it slowly, knowing that chugging it was a surefire way to black out.
The club was owned by none other than Rin Itoshi, the infamous former soccer player whose career was cut too short. He was known for being an asshole, but Isagi needed a job. Bachira was good at his work and Rin trusted him, but only because he was useful. After Rin fired his previous assistant, Bachira recommended Isagi, and he jumped at the opportunity.
“He’s a dick at first, so be warned. If you prove your worth, he’ll respect you,” Bachira said, handing a tray of drinks to one of the waitresses. He winked at her, his eyes lingering on her body as she walked away.
“Wow. Classy,” Isagi said dryly.
“Hey, she looked good.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Isagi admitted, taking another sip.
“You should really put yourself out there, man.” Bachira said earnestly. Isagi paused; the sudden sincerity caught him off guard. Where did that come from?
“I’ve tried, but I keep running into the noncommittal type.”
“Maybe it’s a sign from the universe. Just go catch some dick or pussy and don’t think too much about it,” Bachira said. It pained him to watch Isagi waste his time waiting for someone to sweep him off his feet. “What have you got to lose?”
“Let’s see,” Isagi started sarcastically. “My dignity, my self-respect, my negative STD status... should I continue?”
“Damn, you’re a prude.” Bachira rolled his eyes. “Fine, keep it in your pants and stay sexually frustrated.”
Bachira walked away to the other side of the bar before Isagi could rebuttal. Isagi opened his mouth to say something, but Bachira was already too far away. Isagi sulked, finishing off the last of what he had determined to be a Long Island Iced Tea. He felt the alcohol slowly closing in. He started to feel unstable on the barstool, wobbling a little before sitting upright. His vision blurred slightly; he was officially more than "a little bit" drunk.
A taller man with bright teal eyes walked up to the bar, standing next to Isagi. He caught Isagi’s eye immediately. The man wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his dark hair was perfectly styled, and he smelled like money and expensive cologne. His features were sharp, almost cat-like.
Who could he be? Isagi wondered, undressing the man with his eyes. Maybe it was the booze, but Isagi felt magnetically drawn to him. The man flagged down Bachira, and Isagi assumed he was just ordering a drink.
“Hey,” Isagi said, filled with liquid confidence. This is my chance. He thought to himself. The guy glanced over and squinted, scanning Isagi as if trying to decide if he was worth the breath.
“Hi,” he said back, apparently reaching a conclusion.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Isagi offered. The man raised an eyebrow, shocked by the forwardness.
“You couldn’t afford what I like to drink,” he scoffed. “But thank you for offering.”
“Ouch.” Isagi clutched his chest as if the comment caused physical pain.
The dark-haired man smiled briefly, laughing at Isagi’s silliness. The sight captivated Isagi; he felt his heart rate spike.
“I’m just gonna come out and say it,” Isagi started, the alcohol thinning out what little filter he had left. “You’re one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen.”
“Can’t say it’s the first time I’ve heard that.” The man smiled smugly. He knew he was good-looking and clearly reveled in it. “You’re handsome, too.”
“What’s your name?” Isagi asked.
“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” the man said. Isagi cocked his head. Is he a celebrity? That would explain the look.
“Rin Itoshi,” the man said. “That’s my name.”
Isagi froze. His eyes went wide with shock. He was talking to Rin Itoshi—the man he was supposed to start working for bright and early tomorrow morning. The man he was currently trying to fuck.
“Shit,” Isagi whispered, realizing the magnitude of his mistake. “I, uh—this isn’t how I expected to meet you.”
“What?” Rin asked, confused. Tomorrow morning, it would make sense to him, but right now, Isagi just looked like a crazy person.
“What’s up, boss man?” Bachira asked, walking back over.
“I need you to be on high alert these next few days,” Rin told Bachira. Isagi eavesdropped while internally spiraling. He had just confessed his attraction to his boss and would have to show up to work tomorrow like nothing happened.
“There have been gangs meeting here for business. Things could go south, so keep me updated if you see anything suspicious.”
As they talked, Isagi quietly snuck off, disappearing into the sea of people. Rin watched him leave. Part of him wanted to follow—he did find Isagi attractive but, he stayed put, refusing to look desperate. He could never let anyone think he wanted them too much.
Isagi stumbled outside, the cold air hitting his skin and slightly sobering him up. He held the railing tight as he walked down the club's stairs, pulled out his phone, and ordered an Uber. He texted Bachira to let him know he was heading home.
As he waited for his driver, he couldn't stop thinking about Rin. Rin was the most handsome guy he’d ever seen, but he was also a smug asshole—and worst of all, he was the boss.
“Fuck my life,” Isagi sighed, leaning against the side of the building.