[Log] Grapefruit is Nasty, but Cuddles are Nice Who: Balfour Vallet, Kamizuki Izumo When: October 5th Where: The dorms What: Balfour goes to warn Izumo that he’s made a broadcast on the MollyNet. This news does not go over well. Warnings: Izumo, Swearing, flirting, TW: mention of rape Open or Closed: Closed Observable: No
It didn't take Balfour long after seeing the accidental broadcast from Izumo to go looking for him. He didn't want to send him a message likewise because it was likely that he wouldn't even get it, and also because Balfour really wasn't sure how to make his messages private. He was going to have to figure that out.
Instead, he walked out of his room, sloppily dressed, his night shirt baggy and worn, pants slighly too far over his ankles, and one sock half off. Where the other went, he didn't know. He didn't even realize until halfway down the hall that he was missing a sock. When he did, he stepped on his other, yanked his foot out, and just kept going. He was sure to run across it on his way back. His main priority was getting to Izumo and making up an excuse that was unrelated to what he'd seen--something so terribly private he felt guilty for seeing it.
He settled on an invitation to the club because he was 'bored'. It made sense. Or because he couldn't sleep. That made better sense, considering he was dressed as if he'd been at least laying down in bed.
Izumo was curled up on the floor in the sunshine coming in his room's window. He had a grapefruit half on a plate and a spoon in hands. He was picking at it, eating little bites. He felt kind of down, depressed by his dip into old memories for comfort's sake. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd known better than that but he'd...he'd wanted a familiar hand and a kind word. Someone who knew. Living with all these people who didn't know where he'd come from was nice, in a way. No-one to look down on him or assume that because he was from the slums he was automatically trash.
But at the same time it was a strain, watching himself, making sure learned behaviors overrode all instincts learned in childhood.He could act genteel but it was an act and even he grew tired of acting.
He'd...be okay. He'd keep going.
In a little bit.
Running his fingers through his hair to neaten it a bit, Balfour checked the common room, then shook his head to double back to Izumo's room. Where else would the young man be after something like that. If he wasn't there, then he was already getting drunk.
So he paused outside of Izumo's door, fingers touching the plaque with his name on it before rapping on the door firmly, twice.
His heart pounded. Izumo probably wouldn't want any company, wouldn't want to go out and get drunk and just forget for a while...would he? Balfour had never seen him drunk, anyway, not drunk-drunk, just pleasantly tipsy.
Whatever you do, don't ask if he's okay, he told himself.
Izumo blinked. He got to his feet, spoon in hand, and wandered to the door. He stuck the spoon in his mouth to open the door. He was wearing a faded sweatshirt with lettering that was now indistinct, grey on black-faded-to-brown, and jeans along with socks of a subdued (well for Izumo) maroon and scarlet stripes.
It was Balfour. Spoon still in mouth, Izumo raised an eyebrow.
"Hey," Balfour said with a broad smile that only faded minutely when he realized how tired and rough Izumo looked. He put one arm behind his back and the other on the doorjamb to prevent himself from reaching out to him. Not everyone wanted to be cuddled and it was best to just pretend he hadn't seen anything.
"I, ah, can't sleep...was wondering if you'd like to go to the club? Just...something to do."
He breathed deeply through his nose, out his mouth, meeting Izumo's eyes unwavering, trying to hide his nerves, and doing a pretty good job of it. He seemed pretty normal, if not for the more controlled breathing, and that could be for any reason.
"What do you say?"
"Mmm-hmm," Izumo said, around the spoon, the raised eyebrow taking on a sharper tone. He nodded his head for Balfour to come in, stepping aside and reaching up to pull the spoon from his mouth. "Which is why you're dressed in your clubbing best, of course," he declared, archly. But he smiled despite the biting sarcasm, softening the words.
"Well, I figured I'd come get you first. No need in getting dressed up and then not going, right?" he said with a laugh, stepping in and touching Izumo's waist gently despite knowing it wasn't wise. At least it was normal for him to touch.
"Your socks are too quiet, color-wise. All your crazy ones in the laundry?"
Yes, he noticed the socks, but more importantly--
"What're you eating?"
"Uh-huh. Liar," Izumo pointed out, playing Balfour's game by touching him on the arm, lightly. Token gesture made, he reached up and caught at Balfour's shirt, pulling him lower for a good solid kiss.
A kiss that tasted mostly of grapefruit and sour, of course, because that was what he'd been eating!
Balfour just smiled through the accusation. It wasn't as if going to the club hadn't been in mind; he had, after all, come to fetch him to do so.
The smile disappeared as he surrendered to the kiss with a happy little noise, a hand going through Izumo's hair, and parted his mouth for Izumo's tongue...
...only to pull back with a bewildered look. What had he been eating?
"What is that?" he asked softly, pressing a kiss to Izumo's forehead to ensure no hurt feelings. He wasn't sure he liked the flavor of what he'd been eating--too bitter.
"Grapefruit," Izumo answered, amused. He chuckled a little, but there was a tired note in it. He turned and headed towards the abandoned plate, walking softly and cat-footed, but not dancing or humming.
"Guess you don't like it, mister lover of sweets," he mused.
"Nah, it's a little more bitter than I prefer," Balfour said, following him over to the plate, his fingers ghosting along his shoulder.
"So...do you want to go to the club? We can, if you'd like." There was no reason in pretending that he was here for much other than to ask if he'd like to go to the club and to make sure he was okay. And Izumo didn't seem okay. He needed a distraction, Balfour thought, and he was trying hard to provide one.
"Maybe later," Izumo conceded, tossing Balfour a smile, before he curled up on the floor again by his grapefruit. He dug the spoon in and took a bite. "I have grapefruit right now and it'd be a shame to waste it, see?" The grin tipped flirty, just right.
Balfour was hovering for some reason, but Izumo liked him, so he'd make the effort to play along just for Balfour. All nice and flirty, all playful and fun.
The flirty smile was a little better and made him relax a bit, and despite any wishes to reach over and grab him for a kiss, he just backed up until he bumped into Izumo's bed, then flopped down, grinning a bit more.
"I say that's a damn waste of fruit. It's too bitter!" He liked lemons, the sour surprising and refreshing, plus somewhat challenging to get through a whole one without killing his mouth--like hot wings--but grapefruit was bitter and he really didn't care for it.
"So you like bitter stuff..." he mused, running through recipes in his head. He could make things that were similar in flavor to the grapefruit if that was the kind of desserts Izumo preferred. His mind now on food, the sight of his friend looking so terribly miserable was put to the back of his mind. For now.
"Sour," Izumo corrected, as he went after another bite. "You're only just now figuring that out?" It had taken how long of turning down Balfour's constant offers to feed him sweets? Izumo just didn't like sweet things, and never had. He shrugged and gave Balfour a pouty look. "You're too far away, dammit.”
"That's not sour. Lemons are sour; that was bitter," he said with a smile. "Though if you like sour, too, I can make something with that much easier."
He cracked up when Izumo fussed about him being too far away, getting up and wrapping his arms around him from behind.
"Better?" he whispered in his ear, sighing softly.
"Mmm, just get me licorice and lemon sours instead of your chocolate," Izumo returned, lounging back against Balfour carelessly. He scooped up the plate and balanced it on his chest, licking the spoon with careful attention to drips. He smiled at the taste, mmm, so good and juicy.
"Do I want to know what brings you here? You're a horrible liar, by the way." Izumo wallowed a little, getting more comfortable. Never mind Balfour was a person and not a cushion.
"I'm getting better, at least," he murmured, making notes of the licorice and lemon sours. He'd keep them in his room as well. He didn't mind at all that Izumo was leaning against him. He held him gently, his eyes closing most of the way as his fingers curled against his stomach.
"I...owe you an apology, though. I saw something I shouldn't have. I figured you would want a distraction. Was I wrong?" He could leave, if Izumo wanted him to. He was just doing what he could to be a good friend. Unfortunately, he didn't have much experience in that as far as getting it right.
"You what?" Izumo asked, lazily, but puzzled. He tipped his head and eyed Balfour curiously. "What did you see?"
"I think your stupid thing broadcasted accidentally," he murmured, burying his nose in Izumo's hair and breathing him in for a moment. "I didn't see much, just you looking upset and walking off." He'd caught the end of it when it went up.
"Really, Izumo. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked." Not that he really had a choice. It came over the MollyNet as he was investigating the thing. "I just figured since I couldn't sleep anyway and you seemed like you needed a distraction, we could go out."
Grapefruit and plate tumbled and Izumo lunged after them. His spoon clattered to the floor but he caught the grapefruit half in one hand and the plate in the other.
“Fuck dammit shit!”
He shouldn’t have said anything, he realized, but he just sighed a bit and rubbed at his face, moving away from his place at the wall.
“You should know that broadcasted,” he said softly. “I’m not going to make you talk about it, but you’re welcome to, if you wish.”
Or, he could just go away. That was always an option.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" Izumo spat....and threw the plate. It shattered against the wall in a satisfying crunch. The grapefruit, however, he set neatly on the floor, and licked the sour juice from his fingers before biting at his knuckles, teeth pressing hard into flesh. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about it but that had been more private than any number of other things he could name; way more private than sex.
He got to his feet with a frustrated, wordless snarl and stalked in a small circle, chakra flickering restlessly. The he dashed to the bed, picked up a pillow, and hurled it against the opposite wall.
"Fuck! Of all the things to fuckin' slip of course it had to be that godsdamn it all the things that could be given away it had to be that shit fuck fuck!" Izumo pounced on the pillow and chunked it across the room again, hard as he could throw it. It bounced off the wall and he ran, pounced on it, and flung it across the room again.
"Damn those were secrets! The fuckin' cover-up I'm gonna haveta do fuckit that's gonna take me days! Shit! Weeks! Damn damn damn Itachi and Genma coulda seen it oh sonuvabitch!"
The hapless pillow ricocheted off the wall again as Izumo vented his rage loudly and violently.
"Izumo..." Balfour said softly, looking a touch nervous, his eyes tracking him back and forth across the room, any projectiles in his peripheral vision. Calming him was the priority, but Balfour could understand why Izumo was angry.
"How do we cover it up?" His voice was calm, straight-forward, and firm. He wasn't going to let Izumo deal with this alone. "How bad was it? How likely is it that Itachi and Genma will know what was going on?" In short: what do they do to fix it.
Well, it was better than dealing with drunk, horny women.
Izumo slung the pillow again, breathing hard; the first of his anger was spent, and he stood in the middle of the room, panting.
"Fuck."
He shook his head. "You don't need to do anything. I'm not sure how much I can correct." His lips twitched before he controlled it, smoothing his face over into a blank mask. All emotion was gone, and he pulled himself to stand straight, breathing controlled.
"I'll have to see how it goes." His tone was blank now, too, calculating and cold.
"I don't have to, but I want to," Balfour said, stepping forward and reaching out to touch the back of his friend's hand. He didn't like seeing him upset like he currently was.
"Can we get it off the MollyNet?"
That was an important question, probably the first he should have asked.
Izumo pulled his hand away, stepping back. Not now. He was thinking. "No. We can't. Others have tried." He started pacing in a circle around Balfour, orienting himself to the man though he didn't want to be touched right now.
"I need to...see repercussions. The ripples. I need to talk to...Aura, Linda, Mike, Leo, Hannah, Giselle. I need to talk with Kip and Jik as well. Mimi, definitely."
As Izumo spoke there was concentration in his tone. The blank look had faded and now his expression was focused, sharp, intense. He was thinking and it was hard work. A task to be done.
Balfour listened quietly, lowering his eyes, brow pinched as he slid his hands in his pocket and shifted his weight to his left leg, then winced when his muscles reminded him of the knife and changed his posture to put his left foot slightly forward and rest on his right leg. He was thinking, too, trying to think of any possible repercussions.
"What's the worst that can happen?" he asked softly, an analytical statement rather than an optimistic one. He might not be in Izumo's information circle, but he was terribly loyal to the man. He would defend him. "Naturally, the best being that no one saw that."
"The worst? That the image of a well-to-do, educated, and knowledgeable person that I've created here is completely undermined by the fact that I'm a gutter-rat whose best protectors at home were a drunk bar-tender and a pair of whores," Izumo spat, disgust and self-loathing in his tone. "People like nice and they trust it. They don't trust those below their station and they don't like them either. Dammit."
"That's not exactly the rule, but it does seem that way, doesn't it," he mused, biting his lip as he bounced that around in his mind. He, personally, didn't mind that Izumo was a gutter rat, to use the man's own words, but then he wasn't terribly judgmental.
He looked up, looking at Izumo, then looked back down.
"You'll just have to prove them wrong." It sounded so simple, but it was anything but. He would keep an ear out for any talk of the broadcast. That was all he could do. He was still thinking of ways to help. Just proving them wrong would only work for the open-minded ones.
Izumo barked a harsh laugh. "Ah, yes, of course, prove them wrong. Which is what I had been doing, you see. Fuck. There are some people who will like this and will use it. Dammit."
He kept pacing, then stopped, biting at his tongue-piercing. "First things first. I need to hit up my contacts. Have a counter-measure in place should I need it. Then I can see how this will have an effect."
"Alright," he said softly. "Well, what's the counter measure?" It was clear that he wasn't going to let anyone talk bad about Izumo. "C'mon, let me help, please?"
"You don't know the right people," Izumo pointed out, not unkindly. "Right now I need only my key contacts." His mind was running hard and fast, words built, discarded, rebuilt into different patterns. He reached into a pocket and pulled out his dice, rolling them back and forth in his hand.
They were translucent red dice, with white pips. Casino dice. Izumo's nimble fingers kept them rolling, clattering, and he ran down his list of contacts, who he'd need to talk to, the people to watch for, the effects this could have on his reputation. What to say? It was an illusion, a play, a mock-show as he was practising...for what? For manipulating other's memories in a fight. Drawing out not from one memory but from many to make a facsimile of a person in order to knock the victim off balance. It was hard as hell and only a few genjutsu practitioners could do it right. Izumo was...not one of those.
But who had to know that? No-one, of course.
"Illusion practise. Working on drawing out memories of a person," he told Balfour. "That's what that was, in case anyone asks you. Which they might, people are starting to know I have a...particular relationship with you." Some of the names flung that way were unkind but there was only so much Izumo could do without making Balfour a target in an attempt to get to Izumo.
"I'm not going to allow them to smear you," he said softly, a fierce determination in his eyes. If he felt anything strong toward Izumo, it was loyalty and protectiveness. Even if Izumo didn't return the sentiment, Balfour considered him his best friend.
Illusion practice was a good excuse, a good reason. He wanted to know how it worked, if he could in fact do it to someone else. He had no doubt, though. After all, Izumo could mimic him and almost anyone else. "Hmm, such things would be good for manipulation." Different kinds, even--favor-trading, emotional manipulation, drawing secrets, imitating the loved one. His mind categorized all of the information and he smiled softly.
"If anything, it'll be worth the intimidation factor or favor-trading. You know, if, say, someone wanted to see a loved one again. It might be good that others know. Which side do you want me to emphasize?"
"It's hard as hell to do. I'm not sure I could do it that well with anyone else's memories," Izumo admitted, reluctantly. The dice rolled and clattered in hand. "You're smart. Go with what seems best for the situation."
"I'm sure you could," Balfour said with a nod, reaching out to touch his wrist again, asking for permission to touch. He didn't know if Izumo was done with his fit yet or if he was done planning. "And if you need practice, you're welcome to practice on me. I trust you."
And as for the rumors going around about the illusions, the ones that would start soon, well he'd use his best judgement.
"If only you really knew what you were asking, it might be an offer I'd consider," Izumo answered, almost cheerfully.
"You need someone to practice on, right?" Balfour said just as cheerfully, rolling his shoulders a little bit, stepping into Izumo's space. "So how about you tell me what I'm asking for and we can consider it...or reconsider it, whichever way that falls."
He knew it would be an invasion of mental space, but he was willing to try it, either way.
“Hah. Balfour, I’m going to put this in the plainest language possible.” Izumo squared up, and got blunt. “You are essentially asking me to mentally rape you to perfect my technique. There’s a reason you don’t genjutsu your allies. It fucks up your brain. Not to mention what it does for the trust.”
Izumo went around under a low-level illusion all the time, but it was a habit of his and had been for so long no-one really noticed anymore. But digging in people memories? Making them see what was not, and changing reality for them...you just didn’t do that to your friends. Now, helping them hold on to reality, or make a little escape when it got too rough, that Izumo knew all about. But no genjutsu’ing a friend.
“It’s not like it’d be without my permission,” he said softly. He’d think about it a little more. The wording of the description was a little bit off-putting, but he really did trust Izumo, not to mention, the man needed practice. “It’s better than doing it to perfect strangers, after all. At least I know what you’re about to do.”
He smiled softly, shrugging a bit, and stepped forward to press a kiss to Izumo’s forehead.
“But we can talk about that later.”
Izumo made a face. “Trust me. Your brain is not meant to do the mental contortions genjutsu puts it through. Ever seen what happens to a druggie who trips on acid too much? Pretty soon they can’t tell what’s real or not. Genjutsu someone enough and they go insane. Same principal.”
“How much is ‘enough’?” Balfour asked with a grin, pushing gently. He’d do almost anything for Izumo, and if this didn’t prove it, he wasn’t sure what would. He was, at the very least, sure that one time wasn’t going to do too much damage.
“Ask Itachi. He’s the expert. I can only pull out what’s there, if I’m lucky and get the right hooks. He can turn your puny little brain inside-out, take it apart, put it back together and tuck the edges in neatly. If he wants to put it back, that is. If not, you’ll be screaming crazy for the rest of your life and not a mark on you.” Izumo shook his head and thrust his dice back into his pocket. “I’m not risking making a mistake on you just for the hell of it.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t make a mistake,” Balfour said softly. “And I’m sure just once wouldn’t hurt. You could bring out a memory, then put it back, or try to manipulate it. I’d like to see how it works, anyway.”
It wasn’t like Izumo would be the only one benefiting from it.
He shrugged again, moving to sit down on Izumo’s bed, leaning back against his hands, his lips pursed slightly as he gazed at the other wall.
“So...about that broadcast...” Best to change the subject before Izumo got angry, after all. Balfour had decided that he didn’t want to be on the other end of his anger. “We’ve got the ‘official’ story, and you’ll handle the rest of your contacts, but what happens if...well, someone tries to use it against you? Or if they decide that...that they should throw it in my face, your powers. As if...as if you’d hurt me with them or as if you are pretending to be something you’re not? What do I do then?”
He didn’t believe that Izumo would harm him, not on purpose or without reason, anyway.
Izumo snorted. “You’ll react just fine to that on your own, I bet. All shocked and pretty.” He grimaced a little. “Sorry. I’m not feeling too kind right now.”
"I don't mind," Balfour said when Izumo apologized, sitting up and reaching out for him a bit. "If you ask me, you're well within your rights to be grumpy. You're sure it's okay for me to get offended?" Because he would be very much offended. Izumo wouldn't hurt him without reason, not on purpose.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Act however feels natural," Izumo answered. Scripted responses just wouldn't do, especially not with Balfour being so bad a liar.
He eyed the reaching hand, then sighed and took it, a momentary touch to placate before he pulled away to pace again.
"It's going to be okay," he murmured, more to himself than Izumo. He wasn't going to let himself panic. He squeezed when Izumo took his hand, looking at him a moment before shifting.
"Do you want me to go?" he asked softly. He didn't want to go. Really, he wanted to spend time with Izumo, laugh and joke like they normally do. It seemed as if it wasn't going to happen.
Izumo paused, and gave Balfour a long unreadable look before he turned and headed for the closet. “I have to go talk to my contacts. I...I can meet with you later if you like.”
He had a mission, now, it needed to get done.
“Yeah, that works,” he said, standing and running a hand through his own hair.
Incompetent, his brain supplied as the reason he wasn’t allowed to help Izumo and he smirked bitterly, remembering the game as he took the necessary steps toward the door. He wanted to help. He wanted in on it, whatever it was that Izumo was doing.
“I’ll be in my room, if you want me.”
At least he knew about the broadcast, though, and could run interference. Balfour had helped a little bit. That, at least, made him feel better.
Izumo pulled out a pair of tighter-fitting jeans and a dark navy button-up shirt. He tossed Balfour a flirty smile. “Oh, who wouldn’t want you?” he teased, sunnily. He’d need the chipper mask for this, to be his usual bright and cheery self, playboy extraordinaire. It was his persona here, after all. Somber and quiet? Only a handful got to see that, and Balfour had somehow become one of them.
Balfour smiled softly at Izumo, allowing a small chuckle.
“Well, a straight man wouldn’t,” he said lightly, stating the mere obvious. It didn’t really help what he was feeling, but it would help Izumo. He was clearly trying to get back to the playful version of himself.
“Not so sure about anyone else. Maybe they would, maybe they wouldn’t.”
Izumo snorted. “A straight man doesn’t know what he’s missing. Trust me, anyone who’s wise enough would want you.” He licked his lips playfully, and peeled off his baggy sweatshirt. He stripped out of his jeans, focused again, and shook out the tighter, tailored jeans. They fit sleek and smooth over well-toned muscles and by habit Izumo reached for his slim cases of poisoned senbon.
“You’re just saying that because you want in my pants,” Balfour said with an awkward laugh, his cheeks darkening as he averted his gaze from that pink tongue, shivering slightly.
“You do realize that it’s just rude to tease when you have no intention of following through. That’s just horrible...”
And yet, Balfour made no move to leave. He figured he’d leave when Izumo did. He was enjoying watching him put his pants on. It was amusing.
“Balfour, shame. You act like I can’t appreciate people’s good qualities outside of sex,” Izumo returned, with a mock-hurt tone. “This is entirely untrue. Trust me, you have more going for you than sex, though the sex is good.”
Izumo twisted carefully and slid a case of senbon down the side-seam of his low-slung pants, then another into the hip-pocket, and a third into his back pocket. He shrugged on the button-up shirt, automatically running a hand over his chest to make sure his nipple-rings lay flat before he started buttoning it up.
"Well, I had a good teacher," he said with a quiet laugh, ignoring the rest. It was best to not comment on it, especially since now was not the time for a bad mood. "You certainly can't say it was good the first time."
He wrinkled his nose playfully, still watching, fingers itching to touch the metal he was smoothing down, wanting to make him make those delicious sounds.
Well shit. That was another thing he'd have to take care of.
Izumo chuckled. "Sure it was. I like a nice long night to play with a virgin. They can be so much fun." He buttoned up his shirt, and slipped another set of senbon up his right sleeve. He considered his tanto, fingers lingering over the worn hilt. He shook his head and went with a kunai instead, sliding it into his other hip-pocket.
Balfour laughed, his head tilting back slightly. "Oh do you?" he asked. "Well, glad I could deliver."
It was tempting to step forward and press a kiss to the older male's lips, but he elected for laughing about all the senbon and the kunai.
"Armed to the teeth, aren't you? Remind me to never cross you."
Izumo snorted. "This is a very light day, Balfour. Though I don't carry as many as some...I might need to be groped in my line of work, after all, and it kinda gives you away if they find an obvious weapon."
He shrugged, and straightened his hair, fingercombing it smooth.
"You could always claim paranoia," he said with a shrug, stepping forward by two steps, rolling his shoulders as he tucked his hands in his back pockets.
"But then carrying a knife and getting groped could end badly for either party."
Speaking of groping, that was exactly what Balfour wanted to do.
"You look good," he murmured.
Izumo tossed his head back and laughed, undoing all the finger-combing in one gesture. "Balfour, Balfour, every ninja I know is paranoid as hell. That's like saying you can claim water is wet." He turned and grinned at the younger man, amusement in his dark eye. "It's just a fact of life."
He rolled up on his tiptoes and kissed Balfour, quick and fierce before he dropped flatfooted again, still grinning.
"Well then it would be true," he said with a laugh, returning the kiss happily, his hand going to grip at his hip gently. He still wanted to go with him, but it didn't matter much. The answer was, after all, no.
He laughed a little bit and pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, then backed off.
"You should tell me how it goes, satisfy my curiosity," he said softly as he removed his hand from Izumo's hip.
"Oh, you'll know how it goes," Izumo answered, sweetly, though he left out just how Balfour would know. Izumo didn't was to discuss business with pleasure: none of his civilian lovers had ever really enjoyed knowing what he did. It was safer for Balfour to not-know, anyway.
"I'll be by later, okay?" he asked, closing the closet,
"I'll hold you to that," he said softly, reaching to nudge his chin, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead, just simple affection.
It was clear even to the blind that Balfour absolutely adored Izumo. He didn't make it a secret.
He stepped away after just a moment, walking to open the door and hold it for Izumo.
Izumo twitched away from the touch on his chin, just a little, and scrunched his eyes shut for Balfour to kiss his forehead. Token gestures made, it was time now to get to work.
"Thanks, sexy," he purred, and tossed Balfour a wink and a jaunty grin before he headed off down the hall.
Balfour grinned, watching Izumo walk away before heading back to his room, debating on the way which book he wanted to read. He still wasn't positive that telling Izumo what had happened was the best plan, but lying certainly wasn't in the plan.
They could always go to the club later, another time. Balfour wasn't particularly interested in the club, anyway.