The Gentle Giant [Kokuto, Nero]

Seemed like he wasn't used to somethin' like this, huh? Probably not by a guy, too. But, hey, he was cute, and the reactions he gave only made him want to do it more. But, as they sat down, ordered, and got the drinks set down at their booth, Kokuto didn't take long in wrapping a hand around the glass. As Nero brought his own glass to his lips, Kokuto reciprocated, taking a brief sip to get things started. A sour, almost bitter taste came as he swallowed the drink, yet still refreshing.

Judging from the face he was making, it didn't seem like it was an easy topic to broach, no real surprise there. He had figured it was something personal, but if he didn't want to talk about it, he didn't intend on forcing it out of him. Then again, there was still the possibility that the alcohol would do that for him, whether he liked it or not. He was curious about what the little guy was like when he was drunk, though.

Nero didn't seem like the type that drank often, so, there was also the potential for that to come to light soon.

"Grandpa, huh? Seems to be a thing with the older folks...what'd he do, eh? Dunno anythin' about the old man's personal life, but I know he's kicked my ass in training. Seems like a ornery old bastard, but with good intentions."

Unfortunately, he couldn't really relate to that. He was blessed to have a good family before...well, his whole thing happened. But, he wasn't one to start immediately taking sides. He wanted to see what Administrator Arant was like from his point of view. After all, the public eye was usually a far cry from the private one.

"Good intentions, huh?"

Nero knew wholeheartedly that, by all accounts, his grandfather was a good man. He was stringent and gentle all at once. Whenever he displayed enough discipline, he would always remind those he trained of their potential and their success. In a word, he was simply amazing. And yet, why did he feel so inadequate still? As though he never amounted to much in his eyes? Oh, it was quite obvious in the past they shared. An adopted child who modeled everything after their mother, who embraced his effeminate appearance in his youth. He was so unlike what he was used to that it probably disgusted him.

The more he thought about it, the more he simply decided to treat himself to drinks. The first one was pretty good, prompting him to order five more. One after the other, he consumed the tangy alcohol as though they were casual beverages. Eventually, intoxication set in and his cheeks grew a small touch of red, his eyes less cold and distant. More friendly, more playful. Turning his head upward, Nero pouted and ordered more, restlessly tapping at the table.

"Pershonally? I think he's a real stronzo! Ever since I wassh young, he always looked at me funny. Always felt like a freakin' abomination. Vaffanculo, vegliardo! I wear a dress and makeup one day and the whole world's up in arms!"

With the introduction of Italian swearing, it was clear from a single observation that he now worked himself into a drunken fit of humorous - from an observer's point of view - frustration.

Yeesh, it really had to have been a bad time for him to just start goin' for more without more than a light acknowledgement of what he said. At first with how much he was drinking and how fast it was going down, Kokuto's brow furrowed in concern, only to snicker softly at seeing such a drastic change in the young man so soon. Flushed cheeks, playful look? Didn't take a genius to see that he already was pretty tipsy.

"Holy shit, you're even more of a lightweight than I thought."

Then the Italian came in. There were many things Kokuto was not, and multilingual was one of them. So, while he had no idea what the words being said meant, he figured that, given the loosened inhibitions from the alcohol, they certainly were not very nice. But, even with the admittedly humorous drunken ranting, there was some empathy that came from the demon as he listened, taking an occasional sip from his glass.

"Well, it doesn't take a genius to tell ya that ain't right. 'Sides the dress 'n makeup, why d'ya think he'd look at ya funny?"

"Who ya callin' a lightweight, Sfigato?"

Hurling an insult through playful lips, Nero giggled to himself. What was he even talking about again? Oh, his terrible grandfather's disapproving looks. How much he despised it, the lack of confidence it welcomed in his spirit. Bringing another cup to his lip and gulping it in short order, Nero slammed down the glass, pointing his fingers at Kokuto.

"Merda. I don't know. Could never pinpoint it. Stupido vegliardo never told me why. Sure, he'd train me and tell me what I was doing well, but those looks always left me disheartened. Old-fashioned bastardo probably despised me for being adopted and a finnochio. Pretty boy, girly boy, whatever they call it. I don't think I'll be able to give him a child since I'm adopted and omosessuale... maybe, I think. Double whammy, that one. Either way... Vai a quel paese."

Another drink followed at his request, Nero playfully reflecting on his thoughts about the old man. Despite all he said, he never had been a bad man, all things considered. He was always determined, always honored family values, and treated his children accordingly.

"Still... he wasn't so bad. I miss talking to him."

Was a tear forming just now? Hmm... maybe. He couldn't tell. Stupid Alcohol.

Another Italian word coming from him, presumably an insult, given how sloshed he was already. Kokuto took another cautious sip of his drink, making sure to moderate his own intake. He wasn't a lightweight, but he wasn't about to get absolutely wasted right now -- someone had to be the responsible one tonight, and it sure as shit wasn't gonna be him.

Nevertheless, he continued to listen and pay attention. He wasn't all that surprised that the older folks would be more averse to a more effeminate guy, but, from what he understood, he still maintained the family name, despite this discernment he went under. There was more to the situation than just that -- especially from what he had experienced.

The old man was tough, but he always was there to make sure that they got back up, and made sure that everyone learned from what they were doing wrong. He could certainly agree with the old-fashioned bit, since he always clicked his tongue in annoyance whenever it came to managing those with a focus on close-quarters.

"If you miss talkin' to him, maybe you should go see 'im. It's probably been a long time since you did, and, well...people can change. Give 'im another chance. He didn't disown you or nothin', right? You still got the family name, even if by adoption, so, he probably does care, deep down."

Kokuto sighed softly. This kind of situation wasn't something he knew super well. He had a pretty good upbringing, so, it wasn't something he could give the best advice on. But, sometimes, the simplest ideas were the best.

"Did ya hear anythin' I just said, Idiota? I... can't."

Even in a drunken stupor, he was sober enough to recognize the fear inherent in his spirit. What would he say? He was nowhere near the degree of strength he envisioned during his grandfather's time away from the family, let alone a stage where he could properly declare he was someone worthy of standing in his old man's presence. In his eyes, he would only ever be the adopted child who could never hold a candle to one born of true Arant blood.

In other words, there was little purpose to be found in the pursuit. He was already exiting the Sternritter division, adding another mark of shame to their illustrious name. It was foolish to suggest such a thing, but Nero understood the intent. At the moment, he was simply content indulging his intoxication, and the blissful air of oblivion it afforded.

Rising from the chair, cup in hand, he walked toward the nearest jukebox, dazed magentas browsing the large music catalog, pondering a song. A bubbly smile lined his lips once he found his selection, clicking the button with glee. Consuming another round of alcohol, he abruptly slammed the cup on the table, turning to Kokuto with a smile, pointing to a small dance floor.

"Enough about him. I wanna dance. You said somethin' about me bein' cute earlier. What was up with thaaaat, huh?"

Beckoning him forward with a flamboyant sway of his hand, he hurriedly made his way towards his new location of choice. That booth felt a little stuffy, anyway... hpmh!

Living so long, one was able to tell things about others -- and he could tell that there was fear. For whatever reason, Nero was afraid of making that step. Even though he supposedly missed him, he didn't have the courage to bridge the gap. His expression shifted -- that was something he could relate to. There weren't many regrets he had in his life, but two of them...were eerily similar to his.

But, Nero didn't seem keen on continuing the conversation. Rather, he was more interested in having some fun as Kokuto watched him make his way over to the jukebox after abruptly slamming his cup on the table. While he didn't recognize the tune he put on, he couldn't help but smile and stand. He was no dancer, but, hey, if the little guy wanted to, who was he to deny it?

"A'ight then, but, I'm gonna warn ya, I ain't no dancer, little guy. I'll try and be careful, so I don't crush your toes."

A slight grin as he reached down to ruffle Nero's hair. The size difference was one thing, but he had a feeling that this wasn't going to go too terribly smoothly. But, then again, one of them was drunk -- so, it probably was gonna look silly regardless. But, hey, they were there to unwind and have fun. Who cared if they looked a bit goofy while doing so? So, he took Nero's hand, grinning lightly.

"That bein' said, you wanna take the lead then?"

"Ya didn't answer my question, Kouto."

Paying no heed to his warning, Nero simply took his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor. Fortunately, he was sober enough that he could maintain some semblance of rhythm as he slowly motioned for him to follow his movements, holding his hand throughout their union. Slow step one, slow step two. One movement to the left, one movement to the right. Since he was clumsily guiding him through it, it ended up becoming something more akin to a slow dance, but... that didn't bother the drunken man underneath Kokuto. No, he was simply drowning out his thoughts with dance and drink.

"See? This isn't so hard, ragazzone."

Hm? Oh, right, he hadn't. He didn't get much of a chance to answer before Nero suddenly took his hand, pulling him over nearer to the jukebox and the small dance floor. Thankfully, Nero wasn't sloshed enough that he was just stumbling around like the drunk he was.

But, it did make him a bit clumsy about it, so much so that he nearly stepped on the little guy's toes a few times, though was able to narrowly avoid it.

As the much smaller man held his hands, rather messily guiding him through the rhythm, Kokuto couldn't help but smile and chuckle lightly. It was good mood music, and the slow dance felt...nice. He kept an eye on his footwork as the two idly swayed across the floor. It wasn't that hard -- at least, this wasn't. But, he still had yet to answer his effeminate companion's question.

"Well, when you're tiny like that..."

Kokuto trailed off for a moment, getting a hand free to lightly ruffle Nero's hair, before reaching down to gently pinch his cheek, grinning.

"And got a dorky smile while you're sloshed..."

Then, his expression softened. Less of a mischievous grin, but a warm, gentle smile as he looked down at Nero.

"How is that not adorable as all hell?"

Sure, the guy had been snippy initially. But, given what he'd learned through a few drinks, he couldn't really blame the guy for being irritable on hearing that the old-timer had come back into his life, albeit indirectly. Though there was more there than what he was told, it didn't seem like Nero was going to be talking about that anytime soon, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start prying.

Plus, the snippiness was cute in its own way.

"Ish that sho? Ya really think I'm adorable? Ya know I'm a guy, right? Don' let the pretty face and bright eyes fool ya, raggazone..."

His voice was slurring now, but he didn't pay it any mind. At the moment, he was simply enjoying the loud music and the dance they were sharing. In truth, it felt quite nice to be complimented, viewed as something adorable, someone worth spending time with like this. Flattery - he didn't particularly know what the feeling felt like, but this tall raven-haired man was voicing his thoughts on him freely. Their dance was as awkward as Nero imagined, but that was fine. Something slower had seemed to kick in after his first choice, and he took the moment to stumble clumsily into his arms, head pressed against his chest. God, he sure was tall. His silly gaze fixed on Kokuto. His rosy lips were turned in a playful little grin, prodding a finger against his chest, as though challenging him.

"Ifsh I'm sho cute, why don'tcha take me out on a date, hm? Yer' not half badsh on the eyes yourself... mister tall, dark, and handshome."