[ reki has to snicker at that line. obviously, he doesn't know the first thing about pulling anyone. no matter how good he gets at closing sales at the shop, he can never quite get it right when it comes to throwing game—not that it really matters. whatever he's putting out seems to pique the interests of very particular sorts of people, and those people make that shit known, so he's been nothing but spoiled when it comes to scoring dick.

hasn't really helped him figure out what to do when he's got one, though. kojiro's the only regular thing he's ever had, which makes navigating it a fucking mystery. like right now, watching him frown into his margarita glass, knowing there's probably something he should be saying or getting, but coming up null. all he can really come up with is that he looks gorgeous like that, wild curls falling into his dark, stormy eyes, those full lips twisted into a moody pout that looks like it'd be more at home in an avant-garde ad campaign than a beachfront bar & grill.

of course, by the time kojiro looks back up, reki's just one big vacant smile again. ]

Maybe try being less of a good time then. You're the only one I can like...

[ "be myself around" sounds lame. strike that shit. ]

... fuck with on this level. Isn't that why you let me keep you busy?

[ super obvious that something's up, the way he's grinning, but he's more tentative after that first rejection. the only thing he's doing is brushing his ankle against kojiro's, slow and light enough to jolt away if it comes again. ]

I can fucking hang or whatever.