"Where's my beer?" Shuuhei demanded. "You left, like, three hours ago to get beers and you're back now, but you're not holding any beers."
"It was fifteen minutes, tops," Renji defended. "I, uh, forgot about the beers. I will get you a beer before I leave, I promise."
"'Before you leave'?" Shuuhei echoed dryly.
"Are you sure you should be drinking, anyway?" Renji mused. "Won't it mess with your ability to do that deep, gravelly voice-of-the-damned thing?"
"We decided that Akon is better at doing the voice-of-the-damned, I will be doing ~the ear-piercing falsetto of restless spirits~!"
"You sound like Geddy Lee," Renji informed him.
"That's what I said," Izuru agreed. "But back up to the 'leaving' part."
"Well," Renji explained, "You remember that woman I did a consult with on Tuesday? Rukia?"
"Glamorous socialite Rukia Kuchiki. Very cute. Extremely into you. We remember."
"Well, I ran into her at the bar."
"Why would she be here?" Izuru grimaced.
"Maybe she's stalking you," Akon suggested hopefully.
"She is classy, Akon," Renji glared darkly at him. "She's here because she knows Sado, apparently. Anyway, sorry I can't stick around for the gloom metal, I'm taking her home."
"Everyone knows Chad," Shuuhei pointed out. "And it's doom metal."
"Rukia called it gloom metal, and that's way cuter, it's gloom metal now."
"Gloom metal is a separate genre, actually," Akon piped up. "Very Scandinavian."
"Dammit, I should have known."
"Back up again!" Izuru broke in. "To the part where you are taking her home? I thought you swore you weren't going to ask her out until after you'd done her tattoo?"
"Don't remind him, Izuru!" Shuuhei rattled Izuru's shoulder.
"I'm taking her to her home!"
"That's even better," Shuuhei nodded. "I bet her place is super swanky. I bet she has leather couches."
Renji sighed and gripped his forehead. "She had a work presentation today and she's exhausted, so I offered her a ride home, because I am a gentleman."
"You offered her a ride home because you are a Cub Scout mom," Izuru corrected.
"I would never work a job where I had to deal with customers," said Akon, who did something involving secret government computer stuff, "but is this…normal?"
"Absolutely not," Shuuhei shook his head.
"Nope," Izuru added.
"I wish Momo were here. Momo would support me," Renji grumbled.
"We are supportive!" Shuuhei protested. "Go! Forget about the beer, I'll take care of it. Go play white knight. I hope she waves a scarf at you from the balcony of her ritzy penthouse apartment."
"She is aware that you don't own a car, right?" Izuru said suddenly.
"Yes," Renji replied. "She was very excited about the Hayabusa, I will have you know."
"Unreal," Izuru shook his head.
"Tell us everything tomorrow!" Shuuhei waved cheerfully.
"I absolutely will not," Renji replied.
Renji had long suspected that the Urahara Bar sat on some sort of dimensional rift. It was a falling-apart dive bar with terrible food and questionable service in an unhip part of town. It wasn't even accessible by public transit. It was nearly empty more evenings than not, but a few times a month, it would be absolutely packed. There was never any rhyme or reason to the clientele. Renji didn't even know how people found out about the place. So, in any case, even if it hadn't been an event night, it wouldn't have been super out-of-the-ordinary to see a group of finance preps slumming it from uptown.
Rukia's table of friends, however, seemed remarkably bereft of Brooks Brothers and thousand dollar haircuts. They looked pretty…normal.
"Hey! Bearded Dragon Dude!"
Renji blinked. A vaguely familiar guy was waving at him, handsome and clean-cut, although his hair was a rather goofy shade of orange.
"Renji! Hi, Renji!"
Renji's eyes drifted over and his heart immediately lifted. "Oh, hey, Orihime! Good to see you!"
"You, too!" Orihime beamed. "You remember my boyfriend, Ichigo?"
That's why he looked familiar. Renji shot a finger gun at the dude with the weird hair. "Audi A6!"
"That's me!"
"Hey, Abarai."
Renji looked over just in time to get the classic Chad chin-nod. "Oh, hey Chad. You sounded great up there, by the way."
"Thanks."
Maybe Rukia's friend group wasn't as fancy as he had thought. The guy in the glasses and quarter-zip pullover sitting next to Chad looked pretty staid, but the blue-haired guy next to him had a real Billy Idol thing going on, right down to the sneer. Orihime looked as cute and quirky as ever, and Renji would guess that finance boyfriend or not, she still spent about as much time thrifting as he did. The green-haired girl rounding out the group was wearing a muscle-shirt with a giant worm and the words "Phantom Thief NelDonPe" drawn on it in marker. Renji was almost positive that Phantom Thief NelDonPe was the band going on directly before Shuuhei and Akon. Renji had survived enough of Shuuhei's musical projects to know that he absolutely didn't want to know the origin story of the phrase "Phantom Thief NelDonPe".
Rukia was standing behind the seat between Ichigo and Orihime, rummaging through that interdimensional purse of hers.
"You 'bout ready to go?" Renji asked, trying to sound casual.
"Yes! I mean no! I mean, I just need a second! I'm sorry! Oh, where is that-?"
"No rush," Renji reassured her.
"Man, we cannot thank you enough, by the way," Ichigo announced loudly. "I very much did offer to drive her home. She is so stubborn. You're a hero."
Renji scoffed. "She only cares about my motorcycle."
"I have a motorcycle," the blue-haired guy protested. Renji gave the dude a second glance. His eyeliner was almost as sharp as his canines and his ears bristled with piercings. He was exactly the kind of dude Renji was constantly getting his heart broken over. Renji wondered what kind of motorcycle it was.
"Yeah, but it's not here, is it?" Ichigo shot back. "You rode with Nel! In her station wagon!"
"I have to hold the amp while she drives, asshole! Otherwise, it bangs against the hatch, okay?"
"Also, your bike's not even running right now," the green-haired girl pointed out. "Half of the exhaust system is strewn around the living room."
"Well, that's just the motorcycle-riding lifestyle," Renji pointed out, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
"Thank you!" the blue-haired guy waved his hands in the air. He turned in his chair and gave Renji the sort of disinterested once-over that would usually turn Renji's insides to jelly. Not this time, though. Renji wondered if his brain had actually managed to grow whatever lobe it was where 'good judgment' was kept, or if his last horrible ex had finally just soured him on Sexy Assholes. Or. Well. Maybe…
"I'm ready!" Rukia announced, slapping a tenner down on the table and then pressing Orihime into a quick hug around the shoulders.
"Text me when you get home!" Orihime implored.
"Will do!"
Or maybe he was just ready to try something different, Renji thought, watching Rukia try to weave herself out from around the table as her friends shouted out a chorus of "good night!" and "please get some sleep!" and "I'll call you tomorrow!"
There was a weird comfort in the fact that he had agreed to ask Rukia out, but wasn't actually going to do it until after her tattoo was done and paid for. He could just like her without stressing out about the actual asking, or worrying about whether or not he was rushing things (yet again). Maybe he should start imposing waiting periods on all his crushes.
"I am really ready now!" Rukia announced as they made their way to the door. "Here." She was holding out another ten dollar bill to him.
"What's this for?"
"The coffee. I have no idea how much it actually cost."
Renji shook his head. "It's a dollar. I keep telling Urahara he undercharges for it, but it's not like any of his other business practices make sense. I doubt Yoruichi actually bothered to charge me for it anyway."
"Then take it for gas!"
Renji sighed and accepted the bill. As they headed out the door, he stuffed it into the donation bucket for the Summer Arts Program.
"Renji!" Rukia protested.
"You gave it to me, I can do whatever I want with it," he replied. "You didn't expect me to use that exact tenner for gas, did you?"
Rukia gave him a stern look. "Money is a fungible asset, true. That wasn't the point."
It was cold outside, and the wind was starting to pick up. "Doesn't seem like it's gonna be a real nice ride," Renji frowned. "Sorry about that."
"It's fine," Rukia waved off. "Cold doesn't bother me much. My brother and I are opposites, he'll be wearing three sweaters and a scarf while I'm still in short sleeves."
"Well, it's a little chilly for me," Renji admitted, zipping up his jacket. "My bike's parked behind my building down at the end of the street. I hope you don't mind if I pop upstairs real quick for helmets. I'm probably gonna grab a sweater, too. I doubt I own anything that isn't eighteen sizes too big for you, but if you want to pull one of my sweatshirts over top of your coat, that might work."
"I do not mind," Rukia laughed. "I am a big fan of helmets, as it happens. And I tell you, I will be fine." She paused. "Even if I was cold, I refuse to ride your sexy motorcycle while dressed like a dork. That would be disrespectful to the Hayabusa."
Renji flung the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically. "Ahhh, if only I were so good to her!"
"I don't believe you could look like a dork, even if you tried," Rukia replied.
Renji almost did a double take down at her to see if she was serious. To his surprise, she was actually looking at him, and they immediately both looked away, embarrassed.
Renji was a dork. He was a huge dork. He knew this because his friends told him so, with great affection, roughly sixteen times per day. It honestly hadn't occurred to him, up until this moment, that Rukia Kuchiki might actually have the hots for him. It seemed…unfathomable. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Rukia just seemed to get tongue-tied a lot, it's not like she was flirting with him.
"Ah, thanks," he managed politely. He jerked his thumb at the old apartment building on their left. "This is it."
"Oh, neat!"
It occurred to Renji as they walked up the steps that he had definitely not meant to invite a woman he barely knew into his place. He was pretty sure it wasn't too bad a mess- or was it? He had definitely left a bunch of art shit all over his kitchen table and he suddenly couldn't remember if he had put his weights away or just left them in the middle of the living room again. It didn't matter!
"I totally did not mean to make this weird," he sputtered as he held the front door for her. "You don't have to come up, you can just wait in the lobby and I'll be back in about three seconds."
"Oh…that's fine," Rukia said vaguely.
Wait. "Or is that weirder? You can definitely come up if you want to. I didn't want to imply-"
"No, no, I don't want to impose!"
"I mean, if you need a drink of water or anything before we go…?"
"We just left the bar five minutes ago."
"Right. Right. I will be so quick."
"It's fine, take your time!"
Dummy, Renji scolded himself, taking the stairs three at a time. She calls you not-a-dork and you manage to prove her wrong just immediately. He couldn't even explain how it had gotten so awkward so fast. Yes, he could. He liked her. It's not that Renji was actually good at flirting, but he did have a reliable stable of dreadful pickup lines that he could throw at people to indicate his interest without putting himself too far out there. On one hand, Rukia Kuchiki was far too good for his cheesy come-ons. On the other, the alternative was to make conversation, which held its own pitfalls, namely that everything she said made him like her even more. On the bright side, at least the motorcycle made things too loud for any kind of chatting.
The weights were neatly stacked on their rack, as it turned out. The kitchen table was, indeed, a disaster. Zabimaru blinked at him sleepily as he dashed through to his bedroom.
Renji started to rummage through his closet for an extra layer. He was about to pull out the Pastel Tie-Dye Hoodie with the Fish on It, which was warm and comfy and fit well under his leather jacket, but his hand hesitated on the Date Sweater, the one actually nice sweater he owned. It's not a date, he reminded himself. The sweater's not as warm as the hoodie. It won't show anyway, it's gonna be under your coat.
Another voice echoed in his head, sounding remarkably like Shuuhei. At least it doesn't have incredible 'I bought this at a head-shop at the beach energy.'
Renji grabbed the Date Sweater and tugged it over his head.
"I'll cut you up a strawberry when I get back, pal!" Renji shouted to Zabimaru on his way back through. "I gotta give your girl a ride home!"
A helmet in each hand, and he was barreling back down the stairs.
Rukia was contemplating the floor when he got back down to the lobby. "Is this linoleum original?" she asked, tapping it with her toe. "This whole building looks like Art Deco."
"Uh, I have no idea about the lino," Renji admitted. "It's possible. The building was built in the 20's though, and the upside of not being terribly well maintained is that it's got a lot of cool architectural details."
"Oh, that's so neat!" Rukia beamed.
Renji handed over the helmet. "I like it. It gets real hot in the summer, and the electricity goes out a lot, but it's got parking and it's cheap." He frowned. "If that helmet doesn't fit, I have a bunch of others."
"Why do you have so many?" Rukia asked, contemplating the flames painted on the side of it briefly. "Oh, a medium, perfect."
"Well, I have a lot of friends," Renji admitted. "Also, I was doing custom helmet painting for a while, and I had kinda of a deal with the bike shop. That's the one I did for Momo. The flames were her idea."
"Oh, that's so sweet of you! To keep helmets for all your friends, not the flames! Well, the flames are very nice, too!"
Renji snorted. "Yeah, I even got a double XL that I had to scratch the size label out of because my ex wouldn't admit how big his head was. He kept saying it was mostly the mohawk. It was not."
There was a weird expression on Rukia's face. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "I didn't realize you were…"
Renji blinked. Oh. Oh. It hadn't occurred to him that she might be conservative, but she was rich. That would just figure, now wouldn't it?" "Bi?" he supplied cautiously. "Is that a problem?"
Rukia's face brightened immediately. "It better not be, since I am, too. What's on your helmet?"
"Ah, lightning bolts," Renji stammered, holding it out for her inspection. "Matches the paint job on the bike. Speaking of which, let's go out the back door, it leads to the parking lot."
Why had she changed the subject so fast? he wondered. Why did she sound so disappointed when I mentioned Bazz, if it wasn't about me liking dudes?
That's exactly what it was about! Kira's exacerbated voice shouted in his head. She thought you only liked dudes! She thought she didn't have a shot with you!
Renji felt lightheaded as he led Rukia out the back door. There was no way he was going to last two weeks. How hard would it be, really, to just casually throw out… "Hey, it seems like you might be interested in me? Because I am very interested in you. We're actually at my place, you know, if you felt like, I dunno, a little light making out. I did pick up my weights, as it happens."
NO, he scolded himself. She's tired and she's too classy for making out on your shitty couch. Take her home and take a cold shower and GO TO BED, RENJI.
"Hmm," Renji said as he noticed a few dark spots on the pavement. "You didn't happen to check the weather, did you? I think it's raining. I didn't think of that."
"What do you usually do when it rains?"
"I have rain gear, but I only have one set of that, and it's me-sized."
"Oh, don't worry about me, I won't melt! Do you want to run back up and get it?"
"Nah, let's just drive fast and I'll get back home before it gets going."
Rukia laughed. She had a pretty laugh, throaty, but musical. "Sounds good to me!"
They were halfway across the parking lot when there was a low rumble of thunder, and the skies abruptly opened up.
Rukia gave a charming little shriek as Renji grabbed her around the waist and dashed back under cover, trying his best to shield her tiny body with his back.
"So," she said, when they were both standing under the rear awning, shivering and dripping. "New plan?"