pslplz | Trouble only knocks when no one else is home

Trouble only knocks when no one else is home

It was shaping up to be a quiet evening. Goku was with Sanzo until tomorrow, and while there were several potential family members to look to between siblings and in-laws, Omi wasn't so eager to give up a chance to relax in peace. He had articles to read, some code to putz with, and a new caramel-pecan coffee flavor to try. Said coffee was already brewing, filling the air with a distinctly nutty aroma. The holographic display in the living room was set to split-screen between the code file and a live preview, curtains already closed and lights low.

While the coffee finished, he went about the apartment picking up little bits of clutter that always seemed to collect during the week. He didn't mind it in doses, but he didn't want it getting out of control, either.

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On a cognitive level, Omi had understood all along he'd been working with someone who sang and played music on a stage. It wasn't until Akaya actually took that stage that it clicked in place he was a rock star.

It would be easy to get swept up in the notion he'd been brushing shoulders with fame, but Omi was more interested in the man himself. The charisma and energy he brought to the stage, the ability he had to whip the crowd with apparent ease. The soul he put into his music, which might not be a perfect fit to Omi's usual tastes, but by show's end had him dancing and cheering along with everyone else.

The shoutout caused him to duck his head with a grin. No one knew who he was, of course, and no one paid him any attention personally, but hearing the appreciation from those hours of fighting the synth's codeboard, knowing it had made such a difference to these people and the band members that performed for them, he was glad he'd done it. Never mind the date he'd scored. And maybe it made him feel a little less out-of-place among the tattoos and pierced tongues. It was a voice of welcome to this world he'd never before ventured into.

When the show ended, Omi thought it best to place himself where Akaya had left him. That seemed the most logical place Akaya would look for him. His drink was long gone and he was feeling the slight buzz of alcohol, which also helped alleviate his earlier self-consciousness. He flagged Akaya with a raised arm to signal his location when he saw him nearer. The slight flush to his cheeks, damp bangs, and beaming grin gave away he hadn't just been sitting quietly in the back waiting for the show to end.

"That was pretty amazing! You're really talented," he told him by way of greeting.

Omi had looked somewhat doe-eyed and out of place earlier in the evening. When Akaya found him after the show, he seemed like he'd slipped right in, caught up in the flurry of the show and energy. It was a welcome sight, and somehow knowing that Akaya's performance had contributed to that glow on Omi's face made it even better. He fixed his eyes on him, as though there was no one else in the crowd.

"Thanks," he said with a smile, this time with less cockiness (but equal amounts of sincerity). Being admired for his looks was one thing, but knowing that his music had affected him was a different kind of high.

"We're headed to Eclipse, down the street. After party. You wanna come?"

Omi noticed the difference in attitude between the compliment to his appearance before and the compliment to his musical performance now. Though Akaya could pull off the cockiness, the simple appreciation served him well this time. Having one of each, Omi found both reactions worked to the betterment of the other. After all, if he responded with modest appreciation every time, it might feel rather bland for someone with his level of charm and energy.

"I do," he answered, still smiling and returning that locked gaze. "Lead the way."

Edited 2016-04-05 19:58 (UTC)

"Good," he said, grinning. "The rest of them will meet us there."

Akaya led the way through the crowd, the backstage area, and into the alley outside. There were plenty of people outside too, mostly concert goers who were either headed home or, like them, onto the next location. Akaya navigated them through the bustle until they reached the club called Ecplise, a hip spot that was known for its vast beer selection and the best DJs in town. The bouncer waved them through.

Inside, the thundering beat flowed with an infectious melody, one that you couldn't help but swing your hips to. Akaya pushed his way to the bar and glanced over his shoulder to Omi.

"What do you want?"

Omi stuck close behind Akaya as he wove through the crowd, having to marvel a little at how easily he got into the next club-- by being in Akaya's company, he guessed. Clubs were a bit loud for Omi's tastes (The Black Cat had been no exception) but after a while, the ears acclimated. Omi reminded himself of this as they went inside.

Akaya's question once they reached the bar was beautifully unspecific. Omi would answer it as it had been intended, but he also wasn't about to pass up a chance to banter with an opening like that.

"Well if I had to say a drink... what's the Bloody Mary like here?"

The cheeky response was met with an amused grin.

"Spicy and strong," Akaya said, not one to be outdone in the banter.

"I like it," Omi replied. In truth, strong in his vodka might not be the best idea, but he couldn't back down from the challenge now.

"Of course, I'm open to suggestions from the regular, too. How do you like yours?"

"Hard to say. I don't usually get that drink," Akaya said, which was true enough. He tended to stick with beer, though if he had a cocktail, it was usually pretty simple.

"I'm willing to give it a taste, though." He smirked and waved down the bartender and nodded toward Omi so he could put in his order.

"Sure. You never know when you might like something new." That had certainly proven true for him tonight so far.

When the bartender came over, Omi made his request, then watched as the drink was made and slid over. Since it sounded like Akaya was intending to buy, he offered him the first sip.

Akaya took the offered glass, watching Omi's expression as he took a sip. The rim of the glass was dipped in a spicy salt mixture, which left a slight dusting on Akaya's lips. He licked it off deliberately and handed the glass back.

"Not bad. Has a good kick to it."

Omi may or may not have been aware of the way he answered Akaya's lip-licking with a bit of his own, and before the returned glass ever touched his mouth.

"Sounds good. I like bold."

"Good," Akaya said, chuckling. He turned back to the bartender to order the same drink. Drink in hand, he clinked their glasses together for the second time that night.

"To bold, spicy, and new?" he said with a grin.

Omi was a bit surprised to see Akaya order the same drink, but he understood the decision a moment later when he made his toast. His grin broadened.

"Bold, spicy, and new," he echoed, and took his first taste.

"So how long have you been making music?"

"All my life?" Akaya said, laughing. It was kind of true, really. He was always singing or banging rhythms out on something since he was a kid. He leaned his elbow against the bar, draping his form casually as though he were in his living room, rather than a busy club with colorful lights and music in the background.

"But if you mean my band, we've been together for about two years now."

[ooc: Can modify the years together if needed...just making this up as I go!]

As Akaya had said, the cocktail was strong, but otherwise tasty. Maybe with a few more sips, his taste buds would adjust to the alcohol level.

Since he was curious about both Akaya's band life and his music interest more generally, the answer was a satisfying one. Omi leaned against the bar as well, though he didn't prop his elbow against it as Akaya did.

"How did you end up the only guy? I must admit, I was a little surprised about that."

[ooc: looks fine to me!]

"Just turned out that way, I guess," Akaya said, taking a sip from his drink. The unique makeup of the band turned out to be a pretty good angle on the marketing side. What was really important to Akaya though, was the music. Vision, creativity, and talent all came together. It helped that they all had good energy with each other, too. Even if he did get bossed around sometimes by the girls.

"I kinda like it."

Not a deliberate gimmick then. Somehow, Omi was glad to hear that. If it had been engineered that way, it might have stolen some of the magic out of the idea of forming a band and turned it into a formula.

"It is different. What do you like about it?"

"I dunno. We clique." Sometimes, you just knew when you had something that worked. Akaya had a good instinct about this sort of thing, so he trusted in it. Creativity and inspiration couldn't be cooked up in a board room by people who knew nothing about the craft. Akaya had a vision for the band, and his bandmates understood it. You felt a vibe, and you followed it, that was all.

Speaking of which.

Akaya glanced at Omi and without warning, plucked his drink out of his hand and pushed it to the bar along with his.

"Let's dance." He waved him over to the floor with a grin.

Omi's surprise was evident when the drink he'd just been handed was stolen and set aside for later. Okay! Maybe Akaya didn't feel much like talking right then. He could roll with that; dancing together did sound appealing. With a returned grin, he followed the musician onto the floor.

"You know, if you wanted to get your hands on me, you only had to ask."

There was a spicy tang on his lips, and the music was throbbing in a sick beat that demanded his attention. Akaya was still working off that high from the show, and the best way to do it was on the dance floor, where he could move to the rhythm of the DJ's whims. The company wasn't so bad, either.

Akaya laughed, his eyes glimmering with challenge as he shot back: "Did I say anything about putting my hands on you?"

He can see where your mind is, Honjou Omi.

Edited 2016-05-02 02:31 (UTC)

Omi enjoyed that laugh of Akaya's, and the liveliness in his eyes as he rose to the challenge of a bantering match. It had, of course, been a bold flirt, but since they'd just toasted to bold and spicy, he thought he'd give it a try. It helped that the alcohol from earlier was still enough in his system that he was more relaxed.

"Don't tell me you're the kind of dancer who never touches his partner," he said, and after a beat, tacked on, "I might have to lead in that case, and I'm not sure you're ready for that."

"Heh." Akaya smirked at him over his shoulder, his low-rise jean-clad hip already moving suggestively to the beat.

"I'm not telling you anything," he said. If Omi wanted to know what kind of a dancer Akaya was ... well. He'd have to find out for himself. And what he would discover, should he be so inclined, was that Akaya was a natural dancer, who moved perfectly in sync to the music and yet still made it look like his own. He wasn't much for letting other people lead, on the dance floor or elsewhere, unless they could keep up with his momentum.

"I think you're telling me plenty," Omi said approvingly, eyeing the way Akaya's hips moved. He was quietly glad that Akaya hadn't countered him with a dare to try leading; he wasn't sure he was ready for it either. Outside the dance floor, it wasn't so difficult. On it... he was competent-- school dances had verified that much-- but clubs were not his scene. He was sort of counting on Akaya to give him something to match.

The man didn't disappoint. As Omi had expected from someone with such focus on music, Akaya had a solid grasp of the relationship between sound and movement. Omi moved to face him and fell into step. If Akaya were to seek his eyes, he wouldn't have any difficulty making contact.

And Omi was telling him plenty too, not just with his words of challenge but with his eyes. Akaya hadn't really thought he had it in him when Omi first walked into the club looking wide-eyed and out of place. He liked being surprised.

The crowd bumped and swayed around them, shifting them closer together under the bright lights of the colorful strobe. The glitter on his face had brushed off a bit into his clothes, giving off a shimmer every time the light swept over them. When the people surged again, Akaya stepped in and brushed his hand across Omi's hip in a way that was clearly not an accident.

"And you were gonna say yes," he said with a wink. That is, if Akaya really was inviting him to dance so he could put his hands on him.

There were several reasons Omi was glad he'd taken Akaya up on the invitation to see the concert. It was a chance to hear his music; it was a firsthand look at the difference his efforts had made on the evening's performance; it was a nice break to have an evening out relaxing, even if he hadn't been very relaxed at the start; it was a learning experience about the positive impacts of stepping out of his comfort zone, and of being bolder when he flirted; and of course the big one: he probably wouldn't have gotten to see Akaya again otherwise. That would have been unfortunate. They'd barely talked that evening, but Akaya had a powerful magnetism that made that fact just not seem so important. When the hand touched his hip, Omi met his eyes and smiled at the remark.

"The answer hasn't changed," he said. Emboldened by the brush, Omi set one hand on Akaya's shoulder, an invitation for him to step up to full-on contact.

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