Warnings: Mild Slash (Finn Bálor/Hideo Itami), Mild Profanity, Fluff. (a continuation of the tale started in Xmas Carols: Chapter 22 O Christmas Tree)
Thursday was nice, though in fairness nice perhaps doesn't quite cover it. They managed to lose the bet in the pub, but from the expression on Hideo's face, it wasn't too expensive, so Finn's desire to go back will probably be indulged. It'd been fun sitting there watching the horses race, drinking pints, talking to the barman, translating to Hideo because the longer they stayed, the more the barman decided he wanted a pint with them, and the more he drank the less coherent he got. He'd been like the old barman back in his local, and the strange half-familiarity had been comforting. He'd had no idea who either of them were, and it was nice to just be two guys in a pub, drinking, watching the horses, talking to the barman, eating Penguins. That'd probably been the best part of the night, the entire twelve pack of Penguins Finn had consumed the majority of, biting the ends off and sucking his tea through to the horrified disgust of Hideo, until he'd tried it, and then well he's a good person and does watch his diet, but he did pack more than a few biscuits away.
The rest of the week, all the way until Sunday, they work like fiends, the gym packed out with the usual faces, the training classes that seem at once necessary and pointless. The WWE style is very different to the strong style of Japan, and sometimes Finn wonders what the people who they have to train with would make of being wrestled in the Japanese way. It'd definitely make people look at Hideo different. You knew all about it when KENTA kicked you. Hideo is far more gentle, a kitten compared to the tiger he once was. Kitten is sometimes a very good analogy for Hideo, especially when he's sitting on the couch, looking all fluffy, curled around a book despite just waking up, a pot of tea on the table, two cups set out whilst it brews.
"Morning." Finn flops down on the other end of the couch, regarding the back of the book. It's covered in Japanese, and looks more like a novel, reading for entertainment rather than learning.
"Ah." Morning, the tea should be ready, pour. Finn shakes his head at his roommate, and pours two cups of tea, moving one closer to Hideo, making it clear it's for him. Finn sits sipping at his still slightly too hot tea, considering what to do today. There's nothing pressing, nothing major that needs to be done, though perhaps he should brave a visit to the shops. There's more than a few things they're running low on, and it'd be a good opportunity to spend some time out and about. It'd give Hideo a chance to use his English in new and exciting situations if nothing else.
"Do you have anything planned for today?" Finn taps Hideo's ankle, getting a slightly putout glance from him, whatever he's reading he's enjoying it, and Finn almost feels guilty for dragging his attention away from the novel.
"No." He sets the book down, and takes up his teacup, folding his legs up under him. "I am not doing anything." He sips his tea, and looks consideringly at Finn, his head tilted to the side slightly, his hair sticking up in a million different directions. Kitten is a very good analogy for him sometimes.
"Ah." Right, then! I have a plan for us. Finn grins at Hideo, and grabs the notepad and pen from the table, turning to a blank page, and considering their living room. "We need to go shopping."
"Ah?" We? Does it have to be we? Can it not be you? I'll stay here with my book, and this nice sunbeam I'm sitting in, and you can go yourself. Hideo looks unimpressed, and Finn smirks at him, standing and wandering over to the kitchenette in one corner of the room.
"We. I hate shopping, you're coming with me." He mutters, shaking the bottle of washing-up liquid, and scrawling it down on his page. By the sounds of it, they watered this bottle down to nothing but slightly foamy water.
"Ah..." I hate shopping too, you know, but nothing I say is going to get me out of this, is it? Hideo yawns, and scratches at the back of his head, messing his hair up some more.
"You want to add anything to this list?" Finn asks once he's been through the entirety of their shared residence that he's permitted to go in. There's an unwritten, unspoken, rule that they don't go into the other's sleeping rooms. Those two pokey, little box rooms are sanctuaries from the rest of the World, almost sacred, and not places to be entered lightly or without permission.
"Shampoo." Hideo says after a pause. He stands, and finishes his tea. "I will put clothes on, and we can go..." He smirks at Finn, and Finn stares blankly at him. "I think that maybe you should put some on too." He laughs, turning away, and in a fit of maturity, Finn pokes his tongue out the back of Hideo head.
"If I go out in my skivvies we'll get served faster." He laughs, and Hideo turns back to him, confusion on his face. Finn isn't too sure what he said that could have caused the confusion, but Hideo looks increasingly annoyed with his inability to work something out. He gives a long-suffering sigh, and messes his hair up some more.
"What is ski-"
"Underwear." Finn snaps the waistband of the boxers he's wearing, and Hideo laughs at him, before disappearing into the bathroom.
The initial assault on the supermarket goes well, fruit and vegetables pose no problems for either one of them. They're seasoned experts in these fields, and there's not much anyone can do to make them confusing. The real problem comes when they get to the biscuit aisle. Tea needs a biscuit. Not with every cup, but a nice biscuit at the end of the day with a good cuppa, there's not much that can beat that. Although if their dates keep going well, Finn might be able to get more of the kissing in, and well tea and biscuits, as good as they are aren't going to top kissing. Hideo looks at him, something almost nervous on his face, and gestures down the aisle.
"You know what you want?" He doesn't look too happy with the question, and leans over the trolley gazing balefully down at the contents.
"Ah." I've no fucking idea, but I'll find something! Finn flashes him a grin, and Hideo seems to slump over further, not paying any attention to the many brightly coloured boxes on the shelves. Finn scowls down the aisle, and honestly feels out of his depth. Selecting the right biscuit should be an easy task. Back home it'd been a pack of Penguins, some Kit-Kats, or maybe a nice mint Club, but he's not going to find anything of their calibre here. The chocolate tastes different in the US. He'd thought Japanese chocolate was strange, but American chocolate is stranger still. He's not sure how you screw up chocolate, but you apparently can, and the Americans do. "Pocky?" He gestures to the first vaguely familiar box, and Hideo finally looks up. "You know you want it." Finn grins, and Hideo rolls his eyes, dropping a random box into the trolley. "I miss the Men's Bitter Dark Chocolate flavour... You know the ones in the greeny-blue box."
"Men's in white?" Hideo asks him, a fond smile on his face.
"That's the very ones." Finn nods, and he grins at Hideo. "I'm getting some from the Internet... I miss those little fuckers."
"Ah." Thank you, I miss them too. I miss real junk food. Finn nudges Hideo's shoulder, and keeps walking down the aisle, stopping in front of the Oreo section. "These?" Hideo asks. The blue and white boxes are familiar if nothing else. Oreo cookies are sold in Japan, sold in Britain, sold the World over, they're a known quantity, and Finn supposes they're probably a solid enough choice, but which kind to get. Choice is something the Americans seem to like a great deal. There's never any shortage of selections. It's all very contrasting to the town he grew up in. When he was a kid, there hadn't even been the choice of shopping on a Sunday. He wonders if little Fergal would be happy or bewildered if he'd been told that in the future he'd be faced with the surprisingly daunting task of choosing biscuits on a Sunday in America, and all whilst in the company of the most famous Japanese wrestler in the World, who's standing there looking bored and frustrated with the whole task of shopping.
"So... You wanna get double-stuffed?" Finn smirks, and Hideo looks at him.
"Ah." I get that's a joke, but I don't get why you think it's funny. The double entendre is obviously lost on Hideo, but Finn couldn't help but it. He's always been amused by double-stuffed Oreos, really they should have known that was a joke waiting to happen, like spotted dick back home, some things are just amusing to those with puerile and childish minds.
"Ha... Yeah, nevermind. It's not that funny." Finn drops the box of cookies in the trolley, and keeps walking, still smirking to himself over his own joke.
"Ah." It might be, but if the joke is lost by explaining it, it's okay. Hideo seems utterly bored by this shopping quest, but to be honest so is Finn. Yet it's kind of nice in its boring normalcy, something that's familiar to them both, but made utterly foreign by the different things on shelves. That doesn't stop it from being shopping, and therefore utterly uninteresting.
"What else is on the list?" Finn asks once they've ventured to the end of the biscuit aisle. Hideo shrugs, and fishes Finn's shopping list from his pocket, staring down at Finn's looping scrawl that covers it.
"I... This might be washing powder." He offers, hope colouring his voice, and Finn snorts at him, taking the offered piece of paper, trying to decipher his own scribblings, but finding it far more difficult than he'd imagined.
"Ah..." It might be, but I've no fucking clue. I'm gonna have to write nicer if I want either of us to be able to understand this.
"The next time, I will write the list. Then we can read it." Hideo laughs at him, and Finn can feel a pout on his lips, a childish putout pout, but Hideo has a point. If they want to be able to buy everything on the list, it'd be better to be able to read the damned thing.
"Fine, next time you can write it, but I'm getting to push the trolley." He's sulking, stupidly childishly sulking, and Hideo is laughing at him with his eyes.
"Ah." Stop pouting, you're a grown man, act like one. Finn smiles over at Hideo, and slows to walk at his side, absently steering him in the right direction for the washing powder. Once they arrive at the right aisle Hideo pauses, staring at the many brightly colour bags and bottles. "Which?" He waves his hand at the shelves, and Finn takes a deep breath. His natural instinct is to go for the cheapest, but he doesn't want to look too cheap, but then again, Hideo is a wrestler, cheap is in his veins as much as it's in Finn's own.
"This is far too fucking hard." Finn sighs, as he stalks up and down the aisle, he's passed by these bags of powder a thousand times, and he's no idea which to pick. Hideo has given up even pretending to be interested, and is playing with his phone, his thumbs moving over the screen quickly. "One, two or three?" Finn asks, and Hideo shrugs.
"One." He's distracted, answering without looking, and Finn looks at the top shelf, at four different kinds of powder are up there.
"One, two, three, four?" He asks again, thinking he can guess at what Hideo is going to say, and starts reaching for the bag he'd mentally christened one.
"One." Hideo's still distracted by his phone, and Finn drops the big bag into the trolley. "We are finished?" He asks hopefully, and Finn nods. Even if they aren't, he's sick of this massive shop, and he's very sick of shopping.
"We're done." He nods, and Hideo slips his phone back in his pocket, pushing the trolley forward a little ways.
"Take this... There is a thing I need." He walks off, and Finn watches him leave, he's not sure what Hideo's off to do, but he's not going to argue. There was purpose behind Hideo's strides, he looked like a man off to war, and Finn decides that this is a battle Hideo can face alone.
Outside the store, Hideo is waiting for him, looking cagey, but Finn shrugs it off, and imaging that his random personal side-quest has been accomplished. The trip back home is quiet, but that's not really a surprise. Quiet is something Finn is used to with Hideo, quiet is something comfortable and familiar in a land where everyone is in love with the sound of their own voices. Words between Hideo and himself are considered, careful, valuable, and treated accordingly. Every word is listened to, considered carefully before being verbally responded to, but there's an unspoken communication of glances, and facial gestures that he thinks are forming their own language, a language where ah is the most important syllable.
The first thing Hideo does once they're inside is switch on the kettle, with Finn rinsing out the pot and putting more leaves into it without needing to be asked. Tea is something both of their cultures have in common, and it's something Finn is beyond grateful for. A good cuppa beats out most anything, and makes a hellishly dull shopping trip seem worthwhile. Whilst the kettle boils, and then as the tea brews, they put the shopping away, finishing just in time for the tea to have cooled enough to drink. Finn carries the pot and the Pocky to the table, flopping down with an absent-minded groan. Hideo fidgets for a few seconds, staring at him and goes to his bedroom.
"I bought a..." Finn glances up at Hideo as he comes back, his laptop in one hand, and a cable in the other. He frowns at the cable, clearly trying to think of the word, and Finn waits wondering if he'll try and find the word, or trust Finn to know what a cable is. "HDMI connector." Finn laughs, and Hideo smirks at him. "I needed to know what it was to ask for it." He mutters, ducking behind the TV, and plugging the cable in first to the TV and then his computer. "There are many sites..." He boots the computer up, and starts typing, summoning up a Japanese streaming site. "There are many shows with subtitles." He stresses the word carefully, and Finn laughs. It's a good idea, he can watch Japanese shows with English subtitles, and Hideo can watch English ones with Japanese words to follow.
"We're still going out on dates?" Finn pours two cups of tea, and opens the Pocky, tearing open one of the two packets inside, devouring a stick.
"Thursdays are good." Hideo doesn't elaborate, and Finn snorts in amusement at him. Thursdays are good, but he's still no idea if Hideo is actually getting that Finn is referring to them as dates for a reason. He's going to have to try and explain that when he says dates, he really does mean dates.
"They are..." Finn taps the screen on a show he's behind on. "That one?"
"Ah." I have no objections to it. He clicks something to the up next playlist, and settles down on the couch by Finn, close enough that their thighs brush lightly.
"You want one?" Finn asks with a Pocky stick between his lips, offering the packet to Hideo. A slight smirk creeps over his lips. He leans forward, and bites the stick between Finn's lips all the way down, his lips brushing Finn's own briefly before he leans away.
"Thank you." He grins, and takes a new stick from the packet, balancing it between his lips as Finn had moments before. Finn sits still staring at him for a few seconds, and snorts, leaning over and biting the stick before Hideo can, then drapes his arm over the back of the couch, ruffling Hideo's hair, and taking a new stick. Turnabout is fair play after all.
Well holy smokes this got more reviews than I thought! I'm super surprised, and ridiculously happy there are so many aboard!
Many thanks to the lovely and glorious reviews: Moiself, Rebellecherry, patchworkangel, .98, AshJoiVillette, and Guest.
I now know that I stand not alone on this ship (raft/dingy/plank of wood), but still if you liked it, if you ship it, if you'd like more, please review!