bartender!suna who learns your drink order the second time you come in, and has it ready for you as soon as you walk in the door.
bartender!suna who will fend off anyone that tries to get too close to you or buy you a drink
"they're sober."
"they don't like rum. or gin. or whiskey. or tequila. or vodka. or alcohol."
"sure. that'll be a billion dollars, not including tip. should i put it on your tab?"
bartender!suna who watches your drink like a hawk, ignoring other customers to make sure no one messes with it if you step away
bartender!suna who just can't say no if you ask him to take a shot with you, even if he's not supposed to drink while on the clock
bartender!suna who plays into the sleezy stereotype just to flirt with you and play it off as a bit
bartender!suna who starts teasing you about your unabashed staring when he shakes a drink, asking if you want a taste
bartender!suna who notices that one stuck with you, based on the way your breathing changed and how quickly your drink went after that
bartender!suna who leans across the bar, intentionally pushing against his biceps to make them pop more, and asks straight up if you want to come home with him tonight
bartender!suna who can't even make it home and gives you head on the bar counter when everyone leaves, then takes you home for seconds
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“You’re telling me you haven’t thought about sleeping with your guy friends?”
Matsukawa narrows his eyes as he waits for your reaction. You’re unphased, mulling the question over as you take a sip of your drink. The movie the two of you are watching is paused, not even 20 minutes in.
“No, Issei, that’s weird. I don’t pick my friends based purely on sex appeal.”
He puts a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “Then what am I good for?”
You smile at him over the rim of the glass.
“Stupid conversation starters.”
“C’mon,” he presses you, nudging your shoulder. “Surely you’ve thought about someone before. You can tell me.”
He’s not trying to get you to say him, although the thought wouldn’t be unwelcome. You make no move to reply.
Issei settles back into the couch cushions, hiding somewhat from your view, and continues.
“And besides, I’m not saying that we can’t be friends because of it. It’s a bonus.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
The room falls quiet again, and you make a move towards the remote to turn the movie back on.
“I’ve thought about it.”
He hadn’t entirely meant to say that. But now that it’s out, he’s a bit relieved.
Your head whips around to face him, your expression flustered. “What?!”
Not expecting that reaction, Issei tries to think of some damage control. “Not just with you, with most of my girl friends.”
You narrow your eyes at him, not entirely sold. But, there’s also something different in your gaze. Something… almost curious. Still, you don’t reply.
“You’re freaking me out, man.” He jokes, trying to evade the weight of your gaze.
“What do you think about?”
Time feels like it slows as he realizes what you’ve asked him. He swallows hard, letting out a thick exhale. “You serious?”
“Yeah,” you reply coyly, turning in your seat to face him. Bracing your head with your hand, arm perched on the tip of the sofa, poised like you’re waiting for a little anecdote. As if you didn’t just drop a bomb on him.
He once again averts your gaze, suddenly very interested in the condensation dripping down his bottle. “Alright. Uh,” he starts, trying to think of something vague enough.
“I’d think about the way you act at the club, I guess.”
You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, so he shrugs and continues.
“You know, the way your ass looks in the dresses you wear, how it’d feel if you were dancing on me, pressed up against me.”
“Oh, c’mon. You can’t be serious.”
“What?” Now it’s his turn to look incredulous.
“That’s it?” You’re almost laughing at him, looking in disbelief. “You made such a big stink about it and that’s all you’ve thought about?”
He sits up a bit straighter, moving into your space. “Okay, you want more?”
The move makes you nervous as you bite your lip ever so slightly.
“Alright. So say we’re at this club, and you’re dancing like that, pretending to not notice the way people are looking at you. I’d take you off the dance floor, into some dark corner where it’s just you and me.
“I’d start slow, maybe kissing your neck, just waiting for you to get all breathless and needy before kissing you properly. I’d leave hickies all over,” his eyes rake over your body, lingering on your neck as if he could see the marks already, “just so all the other shitty guys would leave you alone.
“But you wouldn’t be alone, because before too long, I’d have those pretty legs straddled over mine, watching you get yourself off on my thigh in the corner of a club, just hoping that I’ll have mercy on you and help you cum before someone notices.”
When he finally finishes, the two of you stare at each other, both breathless. You start to grin.
“I guess sleeping with your guy friends wouldn’t be so bad, then.”
