"Aww, they're so cute!" Hoshiko said as Tarou returned with an order to put in. He eyed her. "In your section."
"Who?" he asked, glancing over the room.
"The couple over there." Hoshiko said, tilting her head towards them as she arranged a couple of glasses of water and a freshly-prepared appetiser platter on her tray. "The young men; they don't look like they belong together when you first see them, but just look at them."
Tarou looked around again, but he already thought he knew which of his tables she was referring to. There was an expressive young man in a brightly-coloured - and slightly ill-fitting - not-completely-buttoned shirt, his fringe bleached blonde and his hair spiked messily; sitting across from him, a rather more composed companion in a neatly-tailored suit, his tidy, if long, hair framing a sharp and calm face.
Sure enough, she was gesturing - subtly - to their table. They'd been one of his best tables all night, actually, at least thus far. The half-blonde had been a bit loud when they first arrived, but he'd settled down, and they were both very patient, hardly seeming to notice when the busy kitchen had taken too long to even have a pot of tea ready for them.
Tarou was waiting for their main dishes to be plated now, in fact.
Now they leaned close together over the table, and the darker man was actually tracing his fingertip over the inside of the other's wrist. It did look rather . . . well.
Tarou's lips twitched, and he gathered up his newly-laden tray. They did look rather like a couple, but he wasn't completely convinced they were, despite their positions together. Not with the particular way they'd been glaring and angry with each other, if quiet, when they walked in. He'd at first been afraid they might break into an argument right there at the table, at some point during the evening.
He brought them their food, trying to keep himself unobtrusive as they murmured to each other. And not block whatever they were doing with their hands.
"Shindou. . ." the darker man murmured, his eyes intense. He traced a square on the other - Shindou's - wrist. "Star point at four ten." he said, and Shindou's eyes narrowed.
"Touya!" he hissed, grinning, and grabbed the other man's hand. He traced another pattern in Touya's palm. "Three seven." he said, and Tarou shook his head slightly as he put the bowl down deftly in front of Shindou.
"A large keima?" Touya smiled almost slyly, and Shindou's eyes sharpened, his fingers tightening visibly on Touya's wrist. "Mm. . . Two six."
Shindou made a distressed sound, but he was grinning.
Tarou chose not to interrupt them to tell them that he was available if they needed anything further. He wasn't sure that they would hear him anyway, and he felt the interruption would not be welcomed. He'd just keep an eye on the table.
. . .as best he could, in the dinner rush, which was still building. Tarou sighed and hurried back to dispose of his tray before going to take another set of orders.
Touya and Shindou kept being Tarou's easiest table all night, as it turned out - and they stayed most of the night, which was just shy of busy enough to make it problematic to have them taking up the space. They were far too involved in each other to have noticed even if they had been more of a nuisance, Tarou thought privately.
Though they had become rather more animated over the course of the evening, and at one point Shindou had knocked his tea in his lap. Tarou had been prepared for a complaint, but Touya only laughed at his companion - hidden behind his hand, though badly - and Shindou had waved his hands at the other man in protest, scowling.
He'd accepted a napkin from Tarou, but waved off any further assistance, and the next time he'd checked in on their table they had both been eating one-handed, their free hands stretched out together and tracing patterns between them as they talked. Apparently the pair were more than content to be left alone. Tarou swung by occasionally to be sure they needed nothing more from him, and was hardly even waved off - they didn't notice him mostly.
"I don't think they're a couple, actually." Tarou told Hoshiko later in the evening, as she asked about them again. One of the other waiters, starry-eyed, had asked Tarou if he knew who they were, and then explained to him, hardly waiting for a negative response. "I think they're playing Go, in their heads, while they eat. Apparently they're both pros."
Hoshiko sighed. "That's so sweet." she said with a smile. "That they play against each other and even though they must be opponents they still enjoy it so much between them."
". . .whatever." Tarou said, rolling his eyes and taking their dessert over.
Shindou wound up eating most of both desserts, but the way Touya looked at him while he did made Tarou reconsider the 'not a couple' theory. No one should look like that at a mere friend, he thought, eyebrows rising at the warm look in those cool grey eyes now that they were no longer so intensely focused. Nor an . . . opponent.
Although Touya still looked intense, even when he was speaking politely to Tarou and the pair of them were rising to leave. Shindou, at least, acted mostly normal - if a little loud - once he was done with what had apparently been an engrossing Go game with his . . . whatever Touya was.
Tarou thanked them for their patronage, apologised again for the mishap - they both looked blankly at him, and Tarou dropped it, though he wondered how you could forget dropping a cup of tea in your lap a mere hour or so after it happened - and wished them a pleasant evening.
They were already discussing pairs of numbers and 'joseki' again by the time they turned to walk away from Tarou. He shook his head, wondering a little at them, and got back to work - tending the last few tables and restraining himself from starting to clear away while there were still diners present.
Hoshiko asked about them and Tarou told her they'd talked about nothing but their Go moves - or whatever - all night as far as he knew. He didn't mention that he had begun to doubt himself that they weren't a couple. He was happy to put them out of his mind with the rest of the patrons now they were gone, and Hoshiko was happy to ramble to herself, and him, as usual - she somehow still had the energy after a busy night.
Frankly Tarou marvelled at her a little sometimes.
"I can't believe you played the end of that ladder like that!" Akira snapped, his eyes fiery as he dragged Hikaru around close to himself at the corner leading towards the train station. "I know you were distracted-"
"I was not distracted!" Hikaru shouted, waving his free arm around. "That was supposed to end that way - and it worked, too, you trailed along right into korigatchi on your own!"
Akira grinned suddenly, startling Hikaru, and pulled him a little closer. Hikaru hesitated, mouth still open, but didn't continue his rant, lashes lowering a little as he looked sideways at Akira. Akira kissed him hard, free hand curling against Hikaru's cheek, thumb brushing just beneath his eye.
"Let's go home right now." Akira said breathlessly as he pulled away. Hikaru leaned after him a little before catching himself.
"We were going home." Hikaru pointed out, though he clasped Akira's jaw.
"I want to play you again. Now." Akira said, still so close they were sharing breaths.
Hikaru grinned at him. "We just played." he teased.
"I want a board." Akira said sharply, biting at Hikaru's lip and kissing him again. "And a bed." he added, smile slanting knowingly. "Can you ever play enough games with me?"
"Never." Hikaru breathed honestly. "Home?" he asked.
"Home." Akira confirmed, pulling himself away reluctantly. He led the way towards the train station without releasing Hikaru's wrist.
They sat side by side on the train, and Hikaru smiled as he realised Akira was tracing out the pattern of play from their game on his skin. He played out a few alterations, and Hikaru's breath quickened as he turned them over in his mind, testing for weaknesses and exploring the possibilities.
"You are making it very hard to wait until we get home." Hikaru murmured, leaning his jaw against Akira's shoulder. Akira laughed quietly, shifting against him and instead tracing a spiral on Hikaru's wrist.
"I blame you." Akira countered, and Hikaru hummed, pleased to bear that.
He loved the challenges his pro games offered - he was in the midst of competing with Ogata for a title again - but . . . Akira was always his favourite to challenge. His best challenge. And Akira's play. . .
"I can never resist playing you." Hikaru said, squeezing Akira's fingers between his own.
"Me either." Akira agreed, rubbing his thumb over Hikaru's. "Your Go. . . It's beautifully inspired - even when you're crazy." he added in a low hiss. "You're so wild."
"And your structure, the elegance in your calm domination. . ." Hikaru purred quietly, pressing his leg against Akira's. "Your Go is so . . . sexy. No one else could come close."
Akira flushed, ducking his head, fingers tightening around Hikaru's. "And you ask why I want to continue this at home, on our own board . . . and in our own bed?" he asked sharply, and Hikaru laughed under his breath, even as he felt his own cheeks warming.
"Home soon." Hikaru observed, clearing his throat.
"Make sure you're prepared." Akira said archly, his eyes dark and intense, his smile sharp, despite the flush tinting his cheeks.
"For you?" Hikaru asked, waggling his eyebrows and making Akira's flush deepen a few shades. "Always, Akira." he said, leaning against Akira heavily for a few moments before they had to rise to disembark the train.
"Likewise." Akira said simply, allowing Hikaru to lead the way off the train and out of the station nearest their apartment. Hikaru's heart soared and tightened heavily in his chest at once. "My dearest rival, always." He led them home a little faster now.
