( it’s not really the date he’s concerned with. he’s seen them through the lens of pop culture—especially with something as basic as dinner and a movie, he thinks it will be fine. if he had to identify his hesitation, it would likely be with whatever kazuya himself expected out of them. did it just put him at ease to do something like this before sex, to try to impress on someone that he valued them more than just physically? that might be the case, he supposes, even if he personally doesn’t think it’s necessary. he just hopes he isn’t looking for anything… particularly romantic out of it? makoto isn’t sure. he can’t help but think that, like his morbid proclivities when it came to sex, his internalized perspective on romance is strange. warped. obsessive and possessive, controlling and—verging on toxic. but all he knows is how he feels about J, and he isn’t even sure he would call how he feels about J lo—
he just doesn’t want to give it a term at all.
he tells himself that it would just be like they were getting a meal together as they might have otherwise, and it might have flown if not for kazuya offering him his arm. devoid of makoto’s personal context, this would have been charming. and it still is. but makoto has, at least a few times, been cavorted about banquet halls and ballrooms, hanging off the arm of whatever demon had paid for him to be his fascinator for the evening. in this, and only this… he would prefer not to. the connotation, for him, would be too close to “work,” and he doesn’t want that hanging over any of this.
so instead he drags a sly smile across his lips, eyes narrowing. ) I… don’t think this is that fancy of a place, ( he whispers in undertone.
but, as a compromise, he takes his hand instead, leading him inside.
fortunately for the both of them, red cardinal is a classy establishment; perhaps the staff had detected makoto’s apprehension when he requested a table, but the setting that they are led to is a small booth in a quiet corner of the bar, warm with the place’s amber lighting accented by red-shaded lamps overhead. in general the place isn’t crowded, offering a welcome reprieve from how much of a circus other parts of the resort feel sometimes.
makoto breathes a sigh of relief he didn’t even know he’d been holding. he glances to kazuya before moving to take one side of the booth. ) This looks nice. ( he hadn’t come inside after arriving to this place, but he had seen it from the outside—the smell wafting from the kitchen had been enough to make him think he should come by again, when it was less crowded. )
no subject
he just doesn’t want to give it a term at all.
he tells himself that it would just be like they were getting a meal together as they might have otherwise, and it might have flown if not for kazuya offering him his arm. devoid of makoto’s personal context, this would have been charming. and it still is. but makoto has, at least a few times, been cavorted about banquet halls and ballrooms, hanging off the arm of whatever demon had paid for him to be his fascinator for the evening. in this, and only this… he would prefer not to. the connotation, for him, would be too close to “work,” and he doesn’t want that hanging over any of this.
so instead he drags a sly smile across his lips, eyes narrowing. ) I… don’t think this is that fancy of a place, ( he whispers in undertone.
but, as a compromise, he takes his hand instead, leading him inside.
fortunately for the both of them, red cardinal is a classy establishment; perhaps the staff had detected makoto’s apprehension when he requested a table, but the setting that they are led to is a small booth in a quiet corner of the bar, warm with the place’s amber lighting accented by red-shaded lamps overhead. in general the place isn’t crowded, offering a welcome reprieve from how much of a circus other parts of the resort feel sometimes.
makoto breathes a sigh of relief he didn’t even know he’d been holding. he glances to kazuya before moving to take one side of the booth. ) This looks nice. ( he hadn’t come inside after arriving to this place, but he had seen it from the outside—the smell wafting from the kitchen had been enough to make him think he should come by again, when it was less crowded. )