insusurro | NO DATE ONLY DINNER (ft the junon scrubs)

_{[The days following the gala had been relatively uneventful, save for the morning after. There was a necessary visit to the slums - Sector 5 to be exact - and it had gone off without any major hitches. Was it a little awkward? Sure. It had been the first time Roche had gone searching for flowers in Midgar, and the first time he'd actually bought any for something. For anyone. He doesn't count the times he'd been involved with flowers in Junon. Those moments never involved being crouched over a bed of flowers being "relentlessly" teased by the very florist he'd been sent to, prompting Roche to actually look sheepish. Especially after he'd described them and the realization kicked in as to what they were.

Did Reno realize that they were the same ones that were part of the Gnole's motif?

It'd only become worse when she'd started telling him about the best colors to pick, and the meanings behind them.

Turning up Friday afternoon to pick them up had been even worse, and only cemented the fact that this girl - as lovely and as sweet as she is - was a menace. And right up his alley once the overall mortification passed. Yeah, Reno absolutely knew what he was doing when he sent Roche to her. (Note to self: payback.)

Fortunately the rest of the day was going by smoothly, and by the time eight o'clock rolls around? He's ready.

Roche can't remember the last time he'd actually been able to dress himself up the way he wants. In the past, other people had already had things in mind and the gala had been no exception. This time however, it was in his hands and his alone. The jacket and vest went together just fine all on their own with the white dress shirt underneath it all, and while it was tempting to be a little Extra, the tie itself is a simple, plain black one. He already knows they're going to be right menaces, but that doesn't mean you can't look nice while doing it. The real effort came with his hair. He didn't mess with it often, but this time... It's special. The red streaks would wash out easily and while it's not exact, he did his best to match it to the shade Reno wore in the past. The flowers? Now that was the selling point - a not so big, not so small bouquet of red, orange, pink and yellow Amaryllis, accented by a sparse collection of Forget-Me-Nots and smaller wildflowers. The latter weren't his idea, but who was he to complain? Aerith was the flower expert, not him. (Surely she didn't do it to make it weird.)

Even with the car parked on the street behind him, he doesn't look too out of place at Reno's door in Sector 8. One last peek at the time on his phone - ten to eight. Taking a deep breath, Roche straightens up, and knocks.]}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Is "humiliation" even in your vocabulary? I get the feeling that if I tried something like that it would do the opposite and get your motor revving.

_{[It might've been an honest question if Roche didn't already know the answer to it. The list of things that can humiliate him in public is a short one. He doesn't know what Reno's is, but somehow he gets the feeling that no matter what he tried he'd simply roll with the punches. It's something that Roche adores, frankly. If anything it'd be more liable to put himself on the brink of shame.

He doesn't think about it too much, though. Nah, he'd much rather crank the ham up to eleven. Elbow? On the table. Chin? Right into his hand. Leaning in just a little bit? Totally. What he wouldn't give to put a picture of that sweet little smile on his nightstand.

Oh, he's got it bad.]}

Does it count as making a pass if I get my hands on you in the car? I'm asking for a friend.

I mean... nah, but it'd still be pretty funny. Nobody else would know you aren't totally serious if you decide to just haul off and call me a whore in front of all these fine, unsuspecting snobs.

[ It's what he's used to, after all. The sort of behavior he expects. Then again he never really went anywhere so nice with someone where being snapped at that he's a skank and shoved around was all that unusual. It's, like, kind of a joke? Foreplay? He pisses people off on purpose specifically to get a rise out of them, and he still gets laid at the end of the night, so whatever. It's not that he only "dates" (loosely used term, since he would say he doesn't date at all, period) assholes, but that he picks people who don't have any qualms about treating him how he ought to be.

But Roche ain't just a typical guy, is he?

Yo what is he talking about, all guys are just typical guys. All guys except, like, Rude, and Tseng, and maybe Rufus, and even they are also just typical guys, because men are easy and so are women—they all have the same electrical wiring in their brains that makes it easy to undo them. They think with their dicks and their hearts are glass, nobody's an exception. The only difference is his interest in using and abusing those obvious openings. Or letting them use his, as it were.

Whatever, he's drunk. He's drunk and Roche looks fuckin' adorable making chinhands at him like that. Reno copies him, both elbows on the table, chin pillowed in both hands. Upping the googoo eyes ante. ]

Mm, depends. If your "friend" just goes for it without saucing it up by asking, I'm gonna go ahead and say that's fair game.

[ The lady at the table next to them is flagging down her waiter. Not Alfons. Another waiter. And when he arrives, she murmurs into his ear and glowers in the direction of their table. Hahaha... they're getting complained about. ]

I'll keep that in mind.

_{[He sees movement just out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't give it his full attention. Just a quick glance, a quirk of the brow, and just like that his eyes are back on Reno. For the time being they belong to him and him alone. His smile becomes a little more wistful, expression that much softer, and something in him twists. Try as he might, Roche can't keep himself from thinking back to Junon.

The quiet hiss from "dates" when he'd overstep an invisible line or a pointed look... Sometimes it was in jest, but they all had an ounce of honesty to them, too.

Without sparing it a second thought, Roche shifts. Stands partway up, and reaches across the table to brush his fingertips along the sharp angle of Reno's cheek. It's nowhere near the same as calling him a whore surrounded by people who no doubt have more money in their accounts than Roche will ever see in his life, but for people like them? Boy, it'd even draw attention in some seedy bar. Perhaps only long enough for a few sparing glances, but it's still noticeable. Here? Roche may as well be firing a flare into the ceiling to those around their table. Look at me. Look. Look. Look--]}

Calling you a whore is out of the question, Hotshot. If you want to give them something to talk about in their inner circles for a good month and try to get you flustered, just say the word and we'll grab Alfons when he comes back this way. I don't want to leave him high and dry, do you?

_{[Ohhhhhh boy. That can't be a good thing, can it? Roche, no. Bad dog. Sit. Stay. Heel.]}

[ Reno's not sure what he's expecting when Roche gets up, when he reaches out, toward him—he almost recoils out of confusion alone. What's he reaching for, something on his plate? Nope, his face. His cheek, where he touches it as tenderly as can be. He can count on one hand the number of people who he's let touch him that way. He can count on... two fingers, in fact. Actually, just one in practice, two that he would let do that. His lips part silently only just a fraction, and he knows better than to let any kind of reaction show, but he's... flustered. Reno the Unflusterable is flustered.

A little. Nothing crazy, he's not blushing and stammering and going iyaaa stooop and flailing his arms. Just feels like he may as well be, with how he sits there staring, his face hot and not just from the alcohol and the stuffy-ass temperature in here coupled with the fact that he's got his suit buttoned all the way up for once. They don't need to call Alfons. This did the trick.

After a few seconds, his brain clicks back on and he plasters his smile back onto his face, tilting his cheek toward Roche's fingers while they're there. And then, before they're gone, turns his head and presses his lips to his fingertips. ]

Yeah. Let's get 'im. You flash the jewel and I'll pop the question, then we're taillights, babe.

_{[Roche lets them linger, thumb brushing against his bottom lip as he pulls his hand back. Right, that little gem has been burning a hole against his hip all night. He fishes it from his pocket, holding it oh-so-precariously between his fingertips and pretends to shield it from Reno's eyes with his hand. It's done just the right way that when he catches eyes with an unrelated waiter approaching, Roche quickly presses a finger to his lips in a shhhh motion.

Don't go spoiling the surprise, asshole. Scold them after.]}

Anyone would have a hard time saying no to you, Reno. I can only think of one instance where I'd say it myself, but I know you'd never ask me the question that would warrant it.

_{[His eyes dart up, meet Alfons', and right back down they go towards Reno. Better throw in the smallest of brow wiggles too.]}

Three... Two... One... Showtime, babe.

_{[Aaaaand just like that, Roche practically lights up. Even bounces on his heels once as he plasters the most harmless smile he can. It's all genuine, and if anyone thinks he's more than a little tipsy? That's perfectly fine. He does feel it, albeit not as strong as he would if he didn't have that godawful mako in his blood.]}

Alfons! We were just talking about you!

_{[Did I do something--?]}

NO DATE ONLY DINNER (ft the junon scrubs)

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