| [Apr. 8th, 2017|09:55 pm] |
“Dozens of times,” Genma said. But he pulled the shirt on. It skimmed his body as closely as his ANBU blacks. The collar was high, but there was a deep vee of mesh that cut down the chest from the neck.
“Hot,” Aoba pronounced. “Maybe not with the towel around your waist, but that’s the one. In fact, I’ll trade you for the brown one.”
“What?”
“It’s too small for me,” Aoba said, “and the brown one is too big for you. It’s a perfect exchange.”
“You’re just trying to take away my favorite shirt.”
“OK, then I’ll just give you that one, if you promise to wear it tonight.”
“It’s not too sexy?”
“Shiranui Genma, did I actually just hear those words come out of your mouth?”
Genma pulled on a pair of briefs and dropped the towel. “I told you, this is drinks with my team, not a date.”
“At Embers,” Aoba deadpanned.
“I don’t know why Yuko puts up with you.” Genma shimmied into the jeans. They were almost as tight as the shirt, but they were fresh out of the wash; they’d relax.
“You mean, ‘I don’t know why I put up with you.’” Aoba laughed. “It’s because I’m a delightful friend who always has your best interests at heart. Wear your hair up. You look hot with your hair up.”
“Are you sure you’re not gay?”
“Positive. Doesn’t mean I can’t know hot when I see it.”
Genma sighed and headed back into the bathroom to put his hair up in a bun. It couldn’t be that sexy, given he wore it that way to keep it out of his eyes when he worked on paperwork in team Six’s office. If he’d actually been going out on a date, he’d probably have worn it loose.
Aoba trailed after him. “If you bring the orgy back here, you can use my bed. I’ll be gone at least three days. Just make sure you change the sheets.”
“You’re a generous friend,” Genma said. Because there was really no point in arguing with Aoba. And besides, it was true.
“I know.” Aoba leaned smugly against the doorframe. When Genma was finished, he nodded and grinned. “They’re going to have a hard time keeping their hands off you.”
“You’re really not helping, you know that right?”
“Have fun, Gen. Think of me, toiling away on my mission, while you dance with the hottest team in ANBU. I want all the details when I get back.”
Aoba pulled his hitai-ate on and headed back for the front room to retrieve his weapons and vest.
“Have a good mission, Aoba,” Genma told him. “Don’t forget to bring me a nice souvenir.” It was what they always said to each other, and had since they’d been chuunin back in the war. If your friend had promised to bring back a present, he couldn’t very well go MIA on his mission. It’d be rude.
When Aoba’d gone, Genma washed his dinner dishes and gave himself one more once over in front of the mirror. Aoba was right about the green shirt — it was hot. It’d only be a problem if it was too hot. But just before he’d decided to change it after all, Genma remembered that Ginta would be there. Whatever Ginta would be wearing would undoubtedly make the green shirt seem positively sedate.
Before he could second guess himself again, he slipped on his shoes, locked the door behind him, and headed for the clubs. |
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