Nothing is too simple

Special

.o.

Junkyu keeps picking up his cell phone, ready to cancel the “date”. But every time he thinks about leaving work to return home and having to face Mama Yuna… He's left his phone in his pocket. He's managed to occupy himself at work until the end of his shift, but five minutes before he leaves out the employee Exit door, Junkyu is in a near panic.

He's an idiot. So stupid. Here he was on his way to meet Haruto for their “date” and he has no idea what they'll do. Junkyu doesn't even know what couples do on “dates” these days. He's completely brain-dead, but… He thinks Haruto might not appreciate Junkyu stealing the suaver, more romantic moves of some Hero in a work of fiction or a classic novel. But then again, Haruto seems open to a lot of things, willing to explore several possibilities. Hopefully, Haruto doesn't mind his inability to plan ahead and will be able to help him out with some suggestions.

Junkyu crosses the street at the start of the block and is now strolling toward the opening to the park, along the cobblestone walkway. It's a little crowded at this hour as people meander after work, waiting for the buses or wasting time before having to hail a cab ride home.

He almost doesn't see Haruto, but once he lifts his head, chin high, he's able to spot the styled dark hair, swept back from the strong handsome features; Haruto's taller than every male passing by. He's also standing silent and beautiful, like spun steel: he's erect with feet planted a good space apart, jacket off, but palmed in his hand as his arms fold over his flat abdomen. Junkyu is able to check out the backside as Haruto keeps his body turned to look toward his office building, expecting Junkyu to walk up to him from another direction.

In minutes, Junkyu's shadowing Haruto, looking across the street with him. “Maybe if you stare long enough, you'll see what you want most.”

Haruto startles, smirking as he slowly spins to face Junkyu. “Well, would you look at that. You were right.”

Junkyu lifts up one side of his mouth, excitement building. “I have a small confession.”

“Hmm… Do tell.”

“I may have jumped ahead of myself in asking you out.”

“Oh? Is there something wrong?”

“Yes. Everything. I'm not - I don't know what to do.”

“Don't know, in general, or you don't know what to do with me?”

“What do people do on 'dates' these days?”

“How long has it been since you - ?”

“Never.”

“Seriously?”

“Why would I try to lie about that?”

“Well, people do lots of things. Sometimes the old 'dinner and a movie' works. But there are times when two people are fixed on a blind date or from an online profile matchmaker, they just go out for a meal, maybe some late night coffee.”

“What about you? What did you do on your last date?”

“I don't date.”

“What do you do, then?”

“I, uh...do what's called a 'hook-up'.”

“And that means...?”

“Basically? Sex.”

“Okay...”

“I don't have time for anything in my life. I'd fix a date with someone over a dating app and that was it."

“This works for you? It makes you happy?”

“I won't say it makes me 'happy', more, like, satisfied so I don't feel too lonely.”