( kazuya is frank and direct enough about that that makoto can’t help but laugh; whenever he does so, he tends to turn his head and hide his mouth with his hand—a learned behavior, as he’d started to feel as though such boyishness tended to undercut whatever personal gravity he may or may not have as a demon.

a high school-age kid having a friend who’s a bar tender, huh? what a variety. )

Maybe not. I’d hate for your friend to show up and have to kick your ass.

( makoto would lie for him, of course. but there’s no guarantee that would be enough.

his smile is a little thin as he replies. ) I… have. There were some—social situations where I was kind of pressured, ( as in: if a demon pays a lot of gold for your company and wants you to join them in a glass of wine, you don’t refuse, ) but… if given the choice, I’d usually prefer to keep my head clear.

( which is why he’s not going to order any tonight. maybe hot tea… )

…I have a few times here, though. ( he admits it like a secret vice, glancing up at kazuya over his menu. ) It’s been a lot to adjust to… so it was just to take the edge off. ( it’d mostly worked? he suspects the alcohol around here has additional properties… )