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RP Log: Iori and Ken
messy hair
jade_d_green wrote in the__digiverse
Hey look, it's another log! Crazinessssss~!

What: Iori's roomie Nay is a nosy busybody who likes to make things happen
Why: We said so
When: Nov. 4, 2011
Who: Ken, Iori, and npcs, mostly Nay (the roommate)
Where: Iori's dorm and random club

When Iori'd first moved to the states in July, he'd expected to have to some adjustments to living in a foreign country. He had with his exchange studies in Mexico and their culture was closer to that of Japan's; at least in regards to formality.

Since then he'd made a lot more adjustments than he'd expected to, and was rather pleased with most of them.

His two roommates - he'd been assigned a triple room that he shared with the two other men - had gone from mildly alarming, especially in Nay's case, to comfortably familiar and reassuring; again, especially in Nay's case.

He'd found Nay disturbing at first. The other male was transgender and had taken full advantage of getting away from his family and the new independence to dress how he'd always wanted. Which involved copious amounts of glitter, ruffles, and overall super girly. Thankfully, he - or really she, to be exact; even though the administration still labeled Nay male, which was why she was rooming with two guys instead of girls - never felt the need to use the word or anything similarly cliche.

Nay was proud of who she was and all things in the LGBT community, something that she felt needed to be shared with Iori. He'd been hesitant at first. He'd only recently given his sexual orientation a second thought. Before his attempt at heterosexual dating with Noriko, there had only been Ken and a slight puppy crush on Koushiro. It wasn't something he'd ever thought to label before.

Nay had opened up a whole new side of life to him. It wasn't always wonderful, but even when it was gritty and harsh, it was real. He didn't always approve of what others in the community pushed to the mainstream. He disliked the promiscuity that thrived in the club scenes, along with drugs and other means of self abuse. Ironically, his past self - back when he was cutting - would have been more at ease with that part than the more open-minded self of present.

Next to Nay, his other roommate, Alex, might be considered dull. He was almost an American stereotype; muscled, blonde, and tall with decent grades and a football scholarship. He was nice enough, even though Nay and the LGBT community at large seemed to make him uncomfortable. He did try, though, and Iori gave him credit for that.

So, unsurprisingly, Alex had ducked out for the night before Nay and he got ready to go out for the night. Iori only let himself be pulled out the clubs once or twice a month, which only seemed to increase Nay's excitement for the times she got to play dress up with him instead of decrease it like he'd hoped.

Tonight they'd compromised on black knee-high boots, more platform than actual heel, with rather short - at least for his tastes - leather shorts and an off the shoulder top that hung loosely under a tight over-vest. He'd even been generous enough to let her way him down with several bangles hanging off his wrists and some fashionable chain/fabric stripes that hung off his belt loops and crisscrossed around his waist. Heavy black eyeliner and a hint of lip color completed the look, and of course the signature glitter that Nay felt entitled to force upon everyone she met, if possible.

She seemed overly happy tonight; he doubted it had to do with him letting her dress him up like one of Isaribi's barbie dolls, even going so far as to pick out his tongue stud so that it matched his outfit.

How she wasn't a fashion major was beyond his comprehension.

Pushing down the mild apprehension caused by the random giggling spreads Nay kept having, he headed out of the dorm with her towards what would, hopefully, be a fun evening without any of the random spurts of drama that tended to pop up here and there.
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The damn creatures had been plaguing Ken's stomach since he'd received that e-mail from Iori three days past. It was a little uncharacteristic of Iori to be so bold as to ask – no, demand – that Ken come to a club, of all places. Perhaps he thought it would be less awkward because there wasn't as much room for fumbling around and talking... but, really? Alcohol, dancing, and general debauchery didn't sound like the safest place for the two of them to meet for the first time in months. The pair had been talking nearly every day recently, via e-mail and skype, but meeting face to face was an entirely different barrel of monkeys.

Ken closed his eyes, trying to summon a picture in his mind of the last time he'd seen Iori. They'd gone out to a very awkward lunch, during which they'd spent most of the time staring at each other. It was difficult to keep things light when they were so close...

To Iori's credit, he'd been making leaps and bounds in the past year as far as not attacking Ken verbally. He still had a tendency to be a little too worried about things that weren't truly an issue – like Ken's drinking habit – but there had been much improvement in their friendly relationship. To the point that Ken thought it was safe for them to go to a club together? Not hardly. But the idea of Iori going to a club without him never sat well with Ken.

In fact, it usually enraged him and had been a topic of argument between the pair. That's what made it so strange that he was getting an invitation. What was different about this time?

The butterflies stirred again as Ken pondered, reminding the man that he needed to eat. Because, as anyone would tell you, Ken didn't get nervous butterflies... so that stirring, uneasy feeling must be hunger pangs.

After he satiated his empty stomach (not to mention drown those butterflies in twelve ounces of beer), Ken dressed and began his journey. First, to the states, and then to the designated club. It was still early when Ken arrived, and he could tell by how desolate the club was. It was unapparent who the club catered to specifically by the crowd that lingered near the bar.

Seating himself on a barstool, Ken offered the bartender a grin. They'd become fast friends if Ken had any choice in the matter.

By the time Iori and Nay arrived, the club had filled up considerably. They circulated around for probably a good hour or so, just catching up with non-campus friends. By the time they got within reaching distance of the bar, they'd gathered a small but loud group of followers.

A few broke off, including Nay, to get drinks for themselves. Iori stayed on the dance floor with the others as he wasn't legal in either Japan or America.

He didn't stay there much longer, though, as Nay yelled for him at the bar, "I-chan! C'mere, you have to try this!"

Iori rolled his eyes at the rest of the group and excused himself, sliding between the dancing bodies to come up alongside his roommate. A drink was promptly thrust in his face. He took it without protest - he might not be legal, but he did still occasionally drink - and took a cautious sip. Nay had horrible taste in alcohol and this cocktail was no exception.

"That is truly horrible, Nay." He handed the drink back to its owner with a gag. "Do you just make these up as you go or is that an actual drink order?" He couldn't see anyone wanting to order that unless they enjoyed the flavor of vomit.

The transgender pouted. "Aww, you have no taste, Iori. And yes, this one happens to be one of my great inventions." She took a large sip and smiled beatifically as if to prove her point.

Iori snorted in response.

He started to turn back to the dance floor when Nay grabbed his arm. He cocked a brow in question. "Stay with me," she pleaded.

He found the request a tad baffling as she'd never minded them separating before on other trip, but he honored her request. "Okay..."

He didn't notice her lips quirk in a secret smile.

As the bar slowly filled, Ken tried to keep an eye on the door but was painfully unsucessful. Drinking in his own home was a practice in patheticness, while drinking here was extraordinarily fun. The bartenders seemed to know what they were doing, and served Ken a number of dangerously delicious drinks. And that was all before Iori was even supposed to arrive!

So the next time he cast a glance at his digivice, it was already nearly midnight and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Iori.

It was about time he got up and took a walk around to look, anyways. A small group of people had just approached the bar, one of their group giving him an impish grin. He was in no mood – or state of mind – to explain to the vaguely familiar girl why he was there, or how exactly he was unavailable. Abandoning his empty glass at the bar, Ken shimmied his way through the dance floor, deftly avoiding several arms and hands that grabbed at him as he passed by. He couldn't avoid the occasional grope, but that was the risk he ran as an attractive, exotic male coming to a boring american club.

...actually, this club didn't appear to fit the average american club stereotype. The hands that reached for him were, more often than not, males. Shirtless males. There were countless people of which he couldn't determine gender, and there were cross-dressers of both sexes. Suddenly, his standard outfit of black jeans and a semi-casual blue button up stuck out like a sore thumb. He had considered bringing his venetian blind sunglasses, but they were lost somewhere at Takeru's.

The club was packed, and though he'd wandered the dance floor, the tables along the side, and even poked his head out the door, he'd yet to see Iori. With a pang of disappointment, he travelled back towards the bar, absently wondering if he'd come to the wrong bar... or if Iori had stood him up. Almost immediately, he tossed both ideas out. As unlike standard american culture as this club was, Ken could definitely see Iori preferring this place to a 'country' club or one of those Jersey Shore deals. And, as for the second, Ken was entirely too egotistical to belive that Iori would stand HIM, of all people, up.

Yearning for another irish car bomb, Ken sidled up to the bar, passing the same girl who had grinned at him earlier... except now she had a friend that she was giggling with. Letting his eyes land anywhere but on the pair, he settled back into his same barstool, waving the bartender over with a grin.

And that's when he heard Iori's strikingly familiar laugh.

Iori was none the wiser of Ken's presence, however. As far as he was aware, the other was supposed to be in Japan. The same couldn't be said about his roommate, thought.

Having two roommates, even in a spacious triple room, didn't give an individual a lot of privacy. So whenever Iori and Ken skyped, there was always a good chance that Nay and/or Alex would get caught on the webcam in the background, regardless of if they were trying.

Nay was a lot more nosy about it. A lot more than he knew, actually.

She'd taken it upon herself to instant message Ken at the beginning of the week, demanding that he come out with them on Friday night. She'd proved only the location of the club and then promptly signed off. Of course, she'd only done it because she had Iori's best interest in heart.

...and she might be tired of them dicking around. Honestly, those two had spent the whole semester dancing around each other; longer, actually, as she'd gotten must of the 411 about Ken from Iori.

Everything was going well so far. She'd caught sight of Ken when she'd gone to the bar for a drink. It should only be a matter of time till he caught sight of Iori, what with her being a little louder than normal to draw attention to them. If that didn't work... well, she wasn't above literally pushing Iori into Ken or dragging him up onto the bar with her.

Although the only reason for Ken's presence, in america and at this bar, was Iori, he was startled to hear Iori. He'd almost subconciously convinced himself that, when he got home, he'd have an e-mail from Iori saying he'd cancelled the night out. Swinging around on his stool, his gaze swept over the people in his immediate vicinity; the people loud enough that he might hear them. It took him a few seconds to pinpoint the boy, an effort that wasn't helped by the fact that Iori was... well, he was dressed like a girl.

The make-up compliemented his effeminent features, the clothes gave him a playful edge, and he was showing entirely too much skin for Ken's taste. A white hot flash of possessiveness seared Ken, followed closely by a nearly blinding rage. Iori had invited him out to a club, dressed provocatively, and then completely fucking ignored him? The butterflies were gone now, so easily replaced with the spark of anger. Iori was sitting there, chatting happily with his friend, with naught a care in the world. No glance over his shoulder to see if Ken was there, no quick check of his watch to check how late it was...

But it wouldn't be good to make a scene, to yank Iori out of there so that they could yell at each other in the cold alley. It would be a waste of the last couple months, during which he'd tried to convince Iori that he was fine without a therapist. So he'd approach them casually, would act as though it wasn't out of place for Iori to dress so strange. Maybe it'd earn him a gold star from Iori's friend – presumably his roommate, Nay.

With another shot of liquid courage, Ken fixed a devilish grin on his face an sauntered over. It was still difficult to know what was an appropriate way to greet Iori, so he settled for placing a hand on his bare shoulder, leaning in to whisper a sultry, “hello,” into the boy's ear.

While it was flattering that he got hit on from time to time, it was equally annoying. He wasn't interested in getting pick up, no matter what others might infer from his clothing.

He shared an eye roll with Nay before turning around to shoot the speaker down. Oddly enough, Nay didn't return it.

He stopped thinking about Nay entirely as he found himself facing Ken. Ken in America. Ken is a LGBT scene club. Ken in a club where he, Iori, was dressed in a questionable manner that Ken had no knowledge about. At least, not before now...

"K-Ken," he managed not to stutter to badly. "What are you doing h-here?"

He was suddenly very glad he hadn't let Nay press him into a skirt tonight.

The startled look on Iori's face when he turned to face Ken was almost comical. It looked almost as though he'd completely forgotten Ken was going to show up at all. Which, in Ken's humble opinion, was impossible! How could anyone forget that someone as gorgeous and Ken was going to come visit them~

“What am I doing here?” He repeated, a tad on the incredulous side. Had Iori truly forgotten that he was visiting tonight? Sure, the younger chosen had been a little ambiguous about it when they'd spoken the day before, but he'd confirmed that it would be enjoyable to see each other. Had he been drunk when he invited Ken to the club? Was he so drunk now that he'd forgotten? Iori wasn't much of a drinker, but that would explain the stuttering, the blush that stained his cheeks, and the gawking. Maybe he'd had a shot or two already and was a bit buzzed and unable to comprehend...

Yes, that had to be it.

Turning slightly, as if to uninvite Iori's friend from the conversation, Ken peered down at Iori, his hand still resting on the bare shoulder. “You invited me a week or so ago... we've talked about it since?” It was easy to let a relaxed smile claim his features, but beneath the surface it was a tad embarrassing to have Iori so completely forget him.

Was that the plan all along, or was Ken paranoid? He'd been thinking that they were improving in the talking department, so much so that he no longer worried about getting his head bitten off when they talked about something that Ken didn't think that Iori would like. The boy had gained some control of his anger issues. But had the whole last year just been bait so that Ken could be publicly embarrassed by Iori? He didn't consider the younger chosen that devious. And if he was, it was an awful evil plot. There was no one here Ken knew to embarrass him in front of!

"No, I didn't," he shook his head as he spoke, as if to reaffirm and give them more truth. He honestly had no idea what was going on, although it did suddenly make the txts Ken had been sending this week more clear. Things like 'excited for the weekend?' hadn't made much sense at the time, but he'd just chalked it up to Ken attempting to be more pro-small talk. Silly, know that he thought about it...

He brought his hand up to cover the other chosen's on his shoulder. He wasn't sure if it was an attempt to back sure Ken didn't decided to pull away or because he was enjoying - probably more than he really should be - the warm hand covering his naked shoulder. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," he tacked on. Because he really was; it was just... well... "It's just rather... awkward."

Nay chose that moment to confess, in the hopes of defusing a future fight. "Heyyyy," she chimed in, "Sorry to intrude and all, but, you see... I'm the one that told you to come to the club."

She thrust out a hand decked out in colorful bracelets and charms and tipped in long, sparkly nails to the other Asian. "Nay, by the way. Nice to meet you in person."

Iori didn't know whether to throttle her or hug her.

It was an odd, uncomfortable sensation to feel every ounce of blood drain from his face, Ken decided. A feeling he'd rather have gone without. But how was he supposed to react to Iori's clear denial of the truth? He should have just counted himself lucky that in the dark, erratic lighting of the club, Iori couldn't see exactly how his words had shaken Ken.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Ken fought to keep the childish response of 'yes, you did!' inside. There was no point in arguing, especially seeing as Iori was already backpedaling in attempt to make him feel a little less unwelcome. He stiffened a tad when Iori's hand settled on top of his, disliking the feel of Iori... what? Pitying him? That's certainly how it seemed.

Poor lost, confused Ken, somehow ending up in America at a club...

The cheerful voice of Iori's roommate rattled Ken from his self-destructive thoughts. As if caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, he snatched his hand away from Iori's shoulder, taking a few moments to consider the feminine hand that was offered to him before he finally shook it. “Hello,” he offered hollowly, his mind trying to grasp onto the fact that Iori had truly been unaware of his coming tonight.

That and the fact that the girl in front of him was the reason for all of his embarrassment and confusion tonight.

"Well, then," the girl giggled awkwardly as she retracted her hand back to her side, "I guess I'll just leave you kids to it. Toodles~!" Before she disappeared, though, she bent down to whisper in Iori's ear, "Room's all yours tonight so make it worth me sleeping on Candy's couch."

This time he did gave into his violent urge, sneaking a hand out to pinch her thigh rather viciously. She squealed and whirled to exit, shaking a ringed finger at him as she did so. "So mean!"

While he was glad that Nay had taken her leave, it now left him sitting rather pink-faced and alone with Ken at the bar. "So..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Do you want to dance...?"

It was probably for the best that immediately after her confession, Nay decided to leave. It wasn't as though Ken weren't a forgiving person! After all, if tonight were to end well, he might even go as far as to thank Nay for her nosy intrusion. But now probably wasn't the best time for Nay to be around, what with all the conflicted emotions roiling through Ken.

Amethyst eyes watched the girl shimmy and flirt her way through the crowd before he turned back towards Iori, his face blank. When in doubt, it was always best to show no emotion at all, after all. With a patience of a predator stalking his prey, Ken gave Iori another long look, taking in everything from the outfit to the makeup, to the exposed skin. It wasn't an unattractive outfit, just a bit strange for a boy to be wearing...

It definitely had too much potential to attract attention. What if Ken hadn't shown up tonight? In that outfit Iori could have any pick of his men in the club and might not be going home alone...

That thought stuck in his craw.

With a grin that was a shadow of his normal smile, Ken shook his head at the offer to dance. “I don't think that's the best idea right now,” he admitted a bit ruefully, hopping onto an open barstool. It wasn't as though there was much else they could do – talking wasn't the easiest passtime in the middle of a thunderously loud club. “Let me digest this, first...”

With a wave to the bartender, it was apparent how he meant to digest the knowledge that Iori had no idea he was coming.

"Sure," he weakly agreed, attempting what he hoped was an understand smile. It dropped as soon as Ken turned to the bar and waved for a drink. Another drink, Iori assumed; from what he knew Ken still drank more than he should. Not that the other man ever wanted to talk about it. The subject was always changed when Iori brought it up.

He morosely played with one of the chains hanging from a belt loop. He almost wished Nay was still there, instead of off wherever it was that she'd gone. This was not at all how he'd imagine that night would go. Instead of the usual night of fun, he might as well be alone for all the attention Ken was paying him. Alone; now embarrassed to be dressed how he was and be seen in this type of club - something he thought he'd gotten over months ago; and most of feeling generally shitty.

As if sensing his emotional distress, a stranger chose that moment to swagger over to him, eying him up and down like a piece of meat. Joy. Just what he needed now.

He averted his gaze, hoping the guy would take the hint, but to no avail. Random guy said, in what he probably thought was a charming voice, "Hey there, sexy baby, wanna dance?"

Iori stared at him blankly. "No."

Undeterred, the man reached out for his hand, as if to pull him out on the floor. Iori quickly pulled it closer to his body, arm pressed against his chest and hand curled over his shoulder. "No," he repeated and spun around on his seat. Thankfully, the stranger finally got the message and left.

Iori let out a sigh, resting his head against a propped up arm to now stare dejectedly at the collection of alcohol spread across the back wall.

Thinking that it was excuable to get a drink when he found out that Iori actually hadn't wanted him to come was obviously a mistake, because as soon as he turned to the bartender, Iori put on the woe-is-me face and began sulking. Iori would just have to suck it up for a few minutes while Ken got a bearing on what exactly was going on. It was simple enough – Nay had invited him under the guise that Iori was inviting him and had neglected to tell Iori that he was coming. The difficult was the emotions that came along with that knowledge...

So while he sipped at his drink, he gathered all the embarrassment, confusion, and anger and stuffed it back into the little box where it belonged. Until, that was, that Iori got another suitor. He wasn't an unattractive man, and if Ken wasn't there perhaps Iori would've reacted positively to his advances. The fact that he didn't get up and shove the man away as though Iori were his property was supposed to be a step in the right direction, right? After all, they weren't dating.

“Don't look so morose, having someone hit on you is a compliment,” Ken teased, twirling on his barstool as if to lighten the mood with his levity. Ignoring Iori wasn't the best course of action, but dancing... well, he hadn't allowed him to think of who he'd last gone out to a club with and how that had ended. It wouldn't do to have tonight end the same way, not when they were still very undecided about their future together...

Uhg, when did he become so mature?

"Yes, so flattering that I can't contain my joy," he deadpanned, glancing over at Ken.

Taking on a more serious tone, he angled around on his stool to face Ken completely. "While it may be nice to know that other people find me mildly attractive, I'd be just as happy if they kept their 'compliments' to themselves. It's a waste of time for everyone involved. I'm not interested so why should I have to sit through lame pick up lines?"

And why did it make him feel mildly sick in the pit of stomach that Ken seemed almost happy about him getting hit on?

The sarcasm employed by Iori brought a real grin to Ken's face - the knowledge that he wasn't out trolling for booty didn't hurt the good mood, either. It surprised him to think that Iori considered himself off the market, even more so that he thought that people just considered him mildly attractive. “Mildy attractive?” Ken said with a snort, “That man thought you were way more than mildy attractive.”

Gesturing to the whole of Iori like it was obvious, Ken just shook his head. How could someone be so completely unaware of how attractive they were? It probably had something to do with how Ken had treated him in the past, so he neglected to comment. He didn't feel like getting lectured, in a club of all places, about the many ways he was emotionally abusive.

Taking another long sip of his drink, Ken regarded Iori with a bit of skepticism. The goal was for the two of them to hang out comfortably like friends. A club wasn't the best place to do that, but Iori looking green around the gills was still a little strange. “Don't let me ruin your good night,” he minded, seeming sincere (as sincere as Ken could get while slightly buzzed). “What would you be doing if I weren't here?”


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