Kurenai was as expert a dancer as she was at everything else. When she laughed with alcohol-fueled delight, her teeth flashed white against her scarlet lipstick. There was something just a little wicked behind her smile when she danced. Genma was more than willing to follow her onto the floor again. Especially with Raidou in tow at Kurenai’s other hand.

Shirtless and beglittered, with his jeans riding low enough that the wide elastic band of his underwear showed, clinging suggestively to slim hips, Raidou would have tested anyone’s resolve about boundaries. Was that how he’d looked the night he’d met Ryouma in a club, before Team Six had ever formed?

The little blue shots of Lightning Country liquor that Kurenai had urged on them weren’t making it any easier to avoid the suggestive places Genma’s mind wanted to take him. Because damn, Kurenai looked good in that body-skimming dress, and Raidou looked even better in bare skin.

Currents in the crowd pushed them farther from the rookies and closer to the bar, where there were more shadows and fewer people to crash into. From somewhere behind them, a hand skimmed the small of Genma’s back.

“I know what you want to do tonight,” Ginta said, when Genma jumped. Ginta had spun into orbit around the platform dancer, who was now on the dance floor and wearing even fewer clothes. Somehow they’d ended up in the same eddy at the edge of the crowd.

“Dance,” Genma said firmly.

“And drink,” added Kurenai, raising an empty shot glass in a toast.

“Both are good,” Raidou said with a grin. He twirled Kurenai, spinning her with artful precision into Genma’s hands. She rested effortlessly against his chest, head thrown back so the creamy arch of her throat caught reflected flashes of pink and blue lights.

“I’m going to have to recalculate all the odds on the pool, Kurenai-chan,” Ginta said. “You’re an unexpected complication.”

“I thought you were already betting on outside interference,” Kurenai said lazily. She waved her empty drink at Ginta and raised her eyebrows.

“What pool?” Genma asked. He narrowed his eyes at Ginta — there’d been a bet on the table about Usagi and Satomi, but if there was another pool…

Ginta took Kurenai’s empty. “I’ll get refills,” he said brightly, and slipped off towards the bar.

“What pool?” Genma asked again. He propelled Kurenai upright and danced them both closer to Raidou.

“Do you really want to know?” asked Raidou. He tugged Genma into a twirl this time, one hand on Genma’s wrist, the other warm and firm on Genma’s hip.

Genma leaned into the spin and let Raidou’s counterbalancing weight keep him on his feet. “Probably not,” he said. “Do I?” he asked Kurenai, when she shimmied between them.

“You’ll sleep easier without it.” She laughed up at him.

“Okay,” Genma said. Some things — especially things related to Ginta’s odds-making — were mysteries better left in the great unknown unless you actually wanted a piece of the action.