A/N- Yes, it's been quite a while! My apologies. I've got two weeks off so I'll be updating soonish (hopefully). I haven't forgotten about this fic. I hope you're all being safe out there and taking care of yourselves. Thanks for reading, this is just a tiny update about Sai, prior to Ino arriving. Sorry if it's going too slow, I guess I just enjoy the slow-burn/tease. Next chapter will break ground though, stay tuned. Be safe!
SAI POV
Sai didn't normally go to these things. He's never been that guy, in fact. People often mistook him for an extrovert, but honestly, he was perfectly fine on the sidelines. The thing about being social was the constant exchange of information. People wanted to know you—and know things. It wasn't enough that he showed his face, he will be expected to open up and let loose.
Those are two things he wasn't keen on exploring tonight, but he'd try his hand at it, at his friends' behest.
Tonight's festivities were to celebrate an expansion, and it's also his excuse to attend. Nagato conferred with neither he nor Sasori about purchasing another venue, but since they were partners—he'd need their authorization when he met with the property owner tonight. Sasori seemed blindsided by an impulsive move on Nagato's end, but Sai was no stranger to Nagato's visions.
Two shops seemed a good investment. More employees, more exposure, more freelancing, more revenue. It's hard to believe a few years ago—they were tattooing out of a basement with gammy equipment.
"I think you're missing a key fundamental part of having a drink. Allow me to clear up some things, the whole point of a drink, is to drink it—why nurse the bourbon?!"
Konan shouts into his ear. Her breath smells of vodka, citrus, with a hint of tobacco. He can feel the frills of her dress brushing against his neck as she leans towards him.
They're isolated in the back corner of the club—seated in a leather booth that sits back much too far from the table. Sai has been lounging back with one leg out in front of him and the other firmly planted into the ground. From time to time he'd answer a text from one of his clients but mostly, he just sat there—wondering how long they'd play the trash that thrashed from the speakers.
"I've got my reasons. For one, this is my fourth round." he indicates with the flick of his wrist, watching the dark gold liquor roll around inside the glass.
"HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK OF KEEPING COUNT!?"
"Accountability and decorum, to list a few."
The thing is, drinking this way would do nothing for him. He'd just keep casually sipping and losing the edge as quickly as it arrived. It usually took him downing about half a bottle of bourbon to get a satisfying buzz going. He was thankful for his high tolerance. If Konan had it her way she'd buy him the whole bottle and force it down his throat. It's bad enough that Nagato had opened a tab at the bar and their table was constantly frequented by a scantily clad bartender.
Sai wondered when she'd appear with the next tray of toxic alcoholic beverages. He recalled her undulating her hips to the music and toting a tray on top her head to a table in the opposite direction, so it was only a matter of time before the queue restarts.
Their table seemed to be the center of attraction, stragglers in the club would come over—tap him and ask him 'who are you guys'. And he'd always tell them, nobody but for some reason they seemed skeptical. People would ask for drinks and since Nagato was in a generous mood, he'd let them bum a glass of champagne.
Konan was constantly inviting questionable women to the booth and doing body shots. A ceremony that Nagato was all too pleased to observe—and Deidara would attempt to join. Konan always shoots him down and an argument always ensues.
Sasori has kicked the sobriety dream and was probably on a bender by now. He only stuck around to insult Deidara and knock back several Jägerbomb's.
"D'YOU WANNA DANCE?!" Konan was screaming. Sai could feel her moving her body around beside him—dancing in her seat.
"Pass. I can't." he answered simply, crossing his forearms to imitate an X across his chest.
"Oh give me a fucking break, c'mon! Can't or don't want to?!"
"Both."
"Don't waste your time orchid!" Nagato barked out beside Konan. "Since I've known him, the guy has never cut the rug!"
"What?!" Konan shouts in disbelief. She delivers a backhand smack to Sai's arm. "Inconsiderate piece of shit!"
"What the devil is wrong with you." Sai complained, sideeying her.
"Don't you have a date coming!? What if she wants to dance?!"
He hadn't given that much thought. Ino didn't strike him as a woman that enjoyed dancing, though he wouldn't be against watching her dance. There are people who dance, and those that don't, and it just so happens—Sai was apart of the 'those that don't' category. He never saw the use in it. He's thought about it on numerous occasions but couldn't even bring himself to make a move.
"She won't."
"How do you know!?"
"Call it a hunch." He shrugged, then as an afterthought, "You know what, I'll have another Bourbon."
He knocks back the remnants of his drink in one gulp. The whiskey burned in his throat and winced, shaking his empty glass.
"Attaboy!" Konan cheers, tossing up her arms victoriously. "I don't think I've ever seen you trashed, which is sad because we're best friends."
Sai chuckled, "And you never will."
Konan clucked her tongue, "Seems like a challenge and you know how I feel about those."
The sheen of crimson lights blinking overhead was really in poor taste, it really fucked with his eyesight, but he supposes that's expected in a place like this.
"What's goin on over here, what're you fags gos—ssipin' about?!"
Deidara stumbles towards their end of the booth holding the rim of a glass. His face gleams with sweat and Sai can hardly distinguish his features, but his blonde hair and whiny voice sets him apart.
"This doesn't concern you lord Farquaad!" Konan shouts, leaning forward to grab the bottle of Whiskey for Sai.
