You just COULDN'T get enough, Mr. Corporate Slave

Pairing[s]: Arisugawa Dice/Kannonzaka Doppo + Aohitsugi Samatoki/Arisugawa Dice/Kannonzaka Doppo

Rating: 18+

Tags: Substance abuse | allusions to fight club (1999) | maid outfit

Summary: Another day of soul-shattering office work, except tonight is Friday night! Not that it means anything to Doppo. Too bad, he just keeps running into acquitances who offer him free drinks and other things that are making him sweat a lot more than he would like! Or, Doppo gets to unwind and have some fun at Shinjuku's vast nightlife.

BEFORE READING THIS: This was inspired in a series of jokes surrounding doppo's "Bloody urine on Monday, stomach ulcer on Tuesday" line in rhyme anima's (very bad) opening song lmao
Be mindful of unsanitary situations, mentions of bodily fuilds (sweat, vomit and piss... they're really drunk by the end of this) and the usual dick jokes. Samatoki's potty mouth. Basically, if you've gone off the shits drinking you know what to expect I guess...


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

An horrendous pressure in his lower abdomen was the first thing he vaguely felt, followed by an increasing, pulsating feeling inside his ears... 

in his head...

inside his eye sockets.. . 

Everything spun—everything felt like death—why wasn't he dead yet? Nauseated to the point of barely holding back the vile, because his stomach ached as if it was equal parts an acid pit and the void. His mouth could not taste worse than what it already did, what died there? Barely registering that he had the urgent need to take a piss, if the pain in his bladder was anything to go by, he wearily opened eyes that rested upon a lifetime of dark circles. 

Dizzily gazing up as his upper back ached, he had enough sense left to realize that first of all, he was under what seemed to be a pool table. So, his hangover came from drinking too much and not from some weird drug to kidnap him or something along those lines. Rubbing his eyes took a lot more effort than it should have, the motion making the whole room spin. Grunting, Doppo tried to sit up as much as he could under the table. As an afterthought, he vaguely remembered 12 gold beads tangling up in his own short hair. The vile rose up and went back down but his back was left freezing, oh god, where was the other man? He started to sweat at the sight of ropes that went around the pool table, so they were really kidnapped?!  

Grabbing the tangled mess that was his red hair, he shut his eyes to stop the headache and try to remember in what kind of insanity he had been roped this time around. When that didn’t help, he bit the knuckles on his left hand to scream around the fist.

The lights, the people, the neverending noise, everything went and came back to him as usual in the busy streets of Shinjuku. People ready to unwind and people wanting to go back home and sleep until next Monday. The last one was the usual Friday night plan for white-collar workers, and Matenrou’s Doppo was no different. Tap, tap, tap, the soles of his dress shoes were killing his feet, his nape throbbed due to his bad posture but he brought it upon himself, didn’t he? A weird mix of dragging his feet and picking up his pace, his tired gaze on the pavement. On the dirt, on melted chewing gum and his lackluster shoes, anything to avoid looking at passersby in the eye right now. Either out of tiredness or shame, would people recognize him as Matenrou’s berserk rapper or would they see a pathetic office worker? Perhaps he kept searching for grimmy gum on the street as a form of self recognition in a worthless piece of chewing gum.

He could’ve run two, three or heaven knows how many more cycles of self-deprecation in his mind if it wasn’t for his gut telling him to go on, see that sketchy alleyway? Something’s going on and you better go check. He really wanted to ignore his hunch, but he had promised his amicable leader and good doctor that he would make a conscious effort to trust his gut more often, at least twice a day! he had promised. And so he did. He went into the narrow space between the less busy streets of Shinjuku. 

Murmurs and laughs, that was all his unpierced ears could hear at first, and the blood rushing to his head too. The deeper he wandered into the back street, the more certain he was of his awaiting doom. Death by assault in a piece of barren land, hidden from the lively streets of his division's territory. That, and that he apparently recognized one of the voices against all odds. Did he really have an acquaintance who could possibly get involved in questionable business in a sketchy alley? Maybe if he could talk to them about his balding boss…

"Wait wait, hold on! What if ya' grabbed what I lost and… doubled it on the next bet! That's right, that's riiight! I would pay you back and we both would win some more, think about it!"

If the salaryman gritted his teeth any more he would either shatter them or prevent a surprised squeak from leaving his throat. Who else could it be!? Of course it was Fling Posse's very own pathological gambler!! As if he had the ability to smell fear, the burly man in front of a very pleading and kneeling Dice snapped his contemplative gaze upon Doppo's own twitchy gawk. 

An aborted sound left him as he tried to gulp down another yelp, "I-I—I’m sorry! I didn't hear anything! I do— don't know Ari- Da— THIS MAN!? " drip, drip, drip. He could hear and feel his sweat dripping and filling the silence, he wasn't exaggerating—! 

"Uwooh—! The Corporate slave!" 

"Who?" 

"HAH!?" 

"Yo! Nice timing, you wanna partake in the bet? The prize's gonna be sweet this time around!" 

Confused but still firm on his own two feet, the large man (a debt collector perhaps!?) grabbed Arisugawa by his left armpit. A freezing chill ran down Doppo's back towards his ass crack, quicker than the flashing future vision of their tombs adorned in clashing flower arrangements, his paperwork-filled suitcase flew straight towards the already crooked nose of the debt collector. Surging forward in unsteady legs, he shakily grabbed Arisugawa's free wrist and took off as fast as his adrenaline (and their dress shoes) could take them. 

Several heart aching minutes later, they came to an unsteady jog before halting altogether next to a street food stall, far away from the alley but not as far as Doppo's peace of mind would've liked, would Hifumi lend him unassuming Hawaiian shirts and enough money for a ticket to Okinawa? Just as he was into his seventh possible pseudonym, a breathy laugh startled what little soul was left in his flesh prison. 

"I don't really know what happened, but man! That was crazy, you straight up assaulted that man and what for? Y'know, you could totally go back and tell him to let you into the scene heh.”

"Ha— Scene? Wha—"

"No, no, even better! I could totally be ya' manager, maaaan we'd be rich in no time! Just think about it! All bets on you and your sudden screwy fits!" 

“B-bets? Manager!? WHO'S INSANE, Y-YOU'RE—!"

"Uwaah! Calm down man, thought going berserk on people was reserved to rap battles! Whew… wouldn't have thought you of all workaholic corpses would've been able to pull that off... maybe with some box lessons if I take you to the underground bar…" 

His teal split ends were absolutely frying over how steaming mad he felt, flushed down to his now slightly open dress shirt, and sweating bullets, and this… this insane stray was all but rambling about incomprehensive shit! Give him a break, he's not on the clock! 

"C'mon stop looking at me like that man, lend me a hand would you? A man's cracking his skull open here to think of a way to cozy ya' up to the big man now that you went and broke his nose, probably."

"Shut up!? What's your problem!! Why would I cozy up to that man, for mercy!? Oh god I’m so sorry!!" 

"Hey now, it's not that bad . We were just negotiating and you went and fucked it up, maybe we can lie and say that that was your introductory presentation to the world of underground fighting…? Or something." 

"You're insane… wait, you weren't in trouble…? No way, all my paperwork got lost for nothing?" 

"Well, yeah? You just assumed I was like, about to die or something? Whisked me away in the middle of the night and all that… Eww, Gentaro will eat this shit up, and then tell me it's gonna be his new romance novel…" 

Doppo wanted to die. At least he still has his card holder and cellphone…  he patted his pockets and, surprise surprise! No money nor keys! Before the redhead could spot a proper place to end his misery, he felt a hand slap his upper back and rattle his bones, effectively correcting his slouch. 

"I don't really owe ya' one but, wanna go get smashed with cheap beer? Let me sweet talk you into leaving your office job for the thrills and rewards of underground fighting! We could be rich, haha!" 

Left eye twitching, and one of his neck veins under the strap of his card holder becoming visible, he swallowed down his pride. It had been a bullshit working day and now this insanity. This was more than alright in his self-delusion, it was a signal for him to go unwind tonight, complying and lying to himself was his speciality after all.  

“Sure, lead the way…”

Biting around his knuckles to blow some steam and not vomit, Doppo felt like bashing his head against a wall. Of course the burly man and his team had come back to kick his ass for the stunt he had pulled, totally justified as he had attacked unprovoked when nothing... well, it had been a sketchy underground bet, but Dice had made it clear that he was not under any kind of danger, in fact they had laughed that the ripped man had just wanted to help him stand up. Ugh, his whole body was killing him, he burped. Gross.

Slowly wiggling out from under the table, he crouched and took in the room, he wasn’t sure his stomach would be able to hold everything in if he stood to his full height right now. 

“Eek—?!”

His hands flew to cover the sound as soon as it left him, slowly dragging them down, what in the world had happened? There were several men sleeping on their own… liquids and broken drinking glasses, better not to think too hard about that… wait, is that the man who came for them? Where the fuck was Dice, he was gonna bite his chee —

“Ngh… Awake now? C’mon man, untie me I wanna piss!! Everything’s numb by now…”

Arisugawa’s pleading? Sobbing? Voice took him by surprise, but the act of actually resting his gaze upon him as he turned around and found him tied down to the pool table, wearing a maid outfit…?

“Woah! Hey, no. Nonono! Gyaaaadon’t fuckin’ faint now, you piece o—! ”

They had walked for a few minutes as the blue haired man animatedly tried to rope him into the whole underground fighting scene, his feet were still killing him but now he was in dire need of a cold beer, or any kind of alcohol really. The younger man wasn’t as unbearable as he remembered him to be, well, they weren’t exactly near any division rap battles now so maybe that’s why? The salaryman was almost certain that they were going to end up strangling each other at some point before reaching the bar they were heading to, but it seemed that it wasn’t as likely as he had wrongly thought.

“And so, he totally ditched me! Always with the overused excuse of going off to meet some gals, do you think Ramuda actually gets any sort of…pussy? He’s really weird sometimes, you’ve met him, like I really don’t like to judge but…” 

Doppo did a double take to the other’s magenta eyes, their small pink haired leader was apparently really popular among fashionable women in Shibuya but, to actually hear that he was popular in that sense? He feared for the next set of words.

“Look man, I really, really am no one to judge but do you think…? He probably likes… needles… on his...Oh! Hey look, they’re kicking drunkards out! Ah yeees, here we are!”

“Huh… are you really sure it’s here? It seems packed… wait… aren’t those?”

Standing on the tip of his toes to catch a glimpse of what was going on with all these people crowding the entrance to the bar, Doppo managed to see a bouncer breaking two men apart and closing the doors after yelling at them. He moved his torso to try and snoop some more, but Dice grabbed him and started pulling him through the crowd to the front of the bar. Scrunching up his nose the salaryman inhaled, so his eyesight still worked. For the worst. 

“Yo, Riou’s teammate! Got kicked out?”

Doppo heard the yakuza grunt impatiently at the obvious question, but he guessed the other was just looking to start a conversation, not really ask him what had happened inside. Still, one could easily guess by how agitated he looked. That, and the mysterious (not at all!) black haired man who got kicked out too, currently fixing his hair underneath the hood of his pullover to get the fuck away from there. This can only get awkward or violent, and Doppo would have loved to visit any other bar in Kabukicho instead of this accursed one, they’re not even inside yet for heaven’s sake! Only one shaky breath away from fleeing, when he feels a strong arm circle around his neck and press him to a flat chest, almost making him collide with the blue haired man who got the same treatment from the tallest of the three. 

“Hey, lemme get you some drinks,” Samatoki announces loud enough so everyone can hear, as he toys with Dice’s hair accessory between his scarred fingers. “Unless,” he leans his head on top of Doppo’s messy red hair, Coke's dream color combination! And pats his chest. “You wanna get some head instead?”

Arisugawa preens under the attention and whistles, “So it’s my turn tonight? Sweet.”

“Hn. Let’s go then, I know better bars than this shithole.”

Wait, wait, he never agreed to this…! Cold sweat runs down the shortest man’s back, he can only hope that his dress shirt soaks it up, and that his suit jacket acts as a barrier between his and Samatoki’s own shirt. He briefly wonders what made the yakuza go out of his way to show off like that, could it be that seeing his and the gambler’s hair colors together so close to his chest made him recall a specific varsity jacket? Despite his attempt at waxing poetic inside the safety of his mind, he wasn’t as good as Dice’s novelist friend. That, and the aforementioned man was currently trying to communicate something to him with his only visible eyebrow. If the urgency and intensity of his visible magenta eye was anything to go by, Doppo would bet on it having to do with money. 

The yakuza let them go as he halted their stroll momentarily to dig for some cigarettes and his battered lighter. Dice not so subtly gave him a shit-eating grin and a poorly executed wink, what does he mean!? As Doppo racked his brain for divine illumination, a puff of smoke left slightly bruised lips. 

“Hey. You two don’t need to plan on kissing my ass to get free shit outta me,” The cig burns, and smoke is released again. Huh, so that’s what Arisugawa was trying to tell him, the cheap bastard. “I felt like spending money on some scrawny bitches anyway.” Doppo made a face at that, not sure if he was offended at Samatoki’s poor choice of words or self conscious of his total lack of ass, thank you very much office chairs! 

“You know my ass looks damn nice in white jeans, asshole.” Dice retorted with a grin as the salaryman was still put off.

The yakuza side-eyed him and huffed. “What? Ya’ still have pride? My offer’s still up, corporate slave.”

“Wh—what offer?”

Before the tallest one could give a proper reply, besides a snort, the blue haired man stuck his tongue to the inside of his cheek and lifted his fist to the opposite corner of his lips. 

Doppo flushed from his very red hair to his chest in an instant, indecent!

Time passed by, just like Shinjuku’s nightlife lovers walked and stumbled by the odd-looking trio, and not soon enough they were seated at the bar inside a relatively famous nightclub in Kabukicho. The music was loud and if clubgoers recognized them, they made sure to make themselves scarce. Astonishing only to the badly paid office worker, Samatoki had a tab to his name and true to his word he offered to pay for everything without wrinkling his nose, not even fazed when the gambler went straight for the most expensive bottle he could get his hands on. Because he was being treated, or perhaps due to him being ostracized from fun nightly activities, Doppo didn’t get to choose his own drink. 

He should be feeling sorry for getting someone else to pay for him, it was his own fault to be at the goodness and mercy of others tonight, but he shouldn’t mind too much… Is this how pretty people, like Hifumi, feel when they get free drinks from someone older and with big bucks filling their pant pockets? Still, Mad Trigger Crew’s leader was younger than him, at the very least, by three years… Before the redhead could continue his mental one-sided pissing contest, and keep losing it, the distinctive sound of a glass brimming with ice being put down redirected his attention. 

“Why so mild and tame Doppo? Drink it up, from me to you,” His throat felt dry as he gulped, following long, long eyelashes to focus on a pair of rubies. “So ya’ wake the fuck up already.” He recoiled inwardly, coaxing words left those smoke infused lips only to turn into biting remarks at all times it seemed. 

Dice whistled, already two glasses in, while the salaryman got a thank you stuck on his tongue because Samatoki got him a fucking poisonous-looking green drink.

“Green suits you!” Dice butted in with a grin that morphed into a snort, swiftly starting his third round, the tip of his tongue darting under his upper lip to quip “Want me over you to match?" 

"Might need another Irish Trash Can before that."

Not a single drop of the dubious liquor yet and Doppo was already feeling dizzy, sweaty palms rubbing at his pants after getting lost in the pinkish fog that were the gambler's eyes framed by his tipsy flush. He wasn't sure, (couldn't believe), if he understood at all what was happening under veiled words, but he desperately wanted to match his two companions' tempo. 

"I'm…? Clearly not Irish."

"Hn, wouldn't have known," The white haired man huffed before drinking from his whisky. "That's the cocktail's name." 

"A top-tier caffeinated cocktail for your overworked corpse!" 

The poor overworked corpse choked on his drink, it had what in it!? He felt like fainting, two handsome men, a pathologic gambler and a violent yakuza teaming up to intoxicate him so they could harvest his organs! He should have seen it coming… 

What Doppo failed to predict however, crashed into him four glasses (and counting!) later. About to vibrate out of this world or plummet from the bar stool to the floor, he was swept off his seat and into the dance floor by the blue haired man, a self satisfied grin showing off his pointy teeth. Accursed with two left feet, he didn't even have the time to worry as the younger one hooked his long fingers on Doppo's front belt loops and crashed their hips together, never unhooking his fingers as he grinded their bodies together to the beat of the music. Their shared space, the humidity of the dance floor, the lights and the alcohol, maybe the faint recollections of clashing in battle and coming out victorious—whatever it was, left Doppo seeing double and wanting, wanting and grabbing a fistful of blue nape hairs as his free hand grabbed the other's waist to match his rhythm. 

The DJ didn't relent the bass filled music and neither did they relent those opportunities to rub against each other as suggestively as the song lyrics demanded, drunkenly exploring their upper torsos with greedy hands that grabbed what they could. With his heated face half resting between Dice's hair accessory on his neck and his jacket's fur, he inhaled deeply as one of his hands went inside a back pocket underneath the long coat to grab at his ass cheek and bring the man closer to his thigh, the two of them let out shaky sighs but Doppo's breath caught at the end when he felt a hand gripping his left hip bone and Dice being brought closer to his right side, another heated body—familiar by now, sliding and pressing rhythmically to his back as the DJ went off. 

Every hair on Doppo's body stood up and maybe something else kinda did too, he felt as if he was simultaneously about to drown and asphyxiate, dehydrate and combust as he was caught between the gambler and the yakuza. The contact was intoxicating but not enough at the same time, his work suit rubbing uncomfortably on his sweaty skin as they danced to the music, his heart rate accelerated when he felt how affected his companions were as well (if their tightening pants were any indication). Sandwiched between the pair of enthralling men and the high temperature of a dance floor packed with people, the salaryman felt feverish and ready to pass out and die a happy death every time he dared to seek out the glassy magenta gaze right in front of his face. 

Until Dice gave him a cheeky grin full of teeth and turned around, pressing back on him as he guided Doppo's free hand to his stomach, sliding it up to his chest. Along with sensing his stomach churn, it was definitely the cocktail, he also felt the reverberations of Samatoki's laugh against him. 

A whole bottle of scotch bought for the trip and a messy nightclub exit later, Doppo breathed in the less-than-fresh night air of Shinjuku as if it was his lifeline. Unsteadily leaning his back on a street light, he caught a glimpse of Dice alluringly tilting his chin up, a cigarette precariously caught between his lips, inviting Samatoki to light it up with the burning tip of his own cigarette. Alcohol muddled his thoughts, or so he liked to think, because he found himself lamenting the fact that he didn't smoke, if only to be the one touching tips with him. 

Cigarette tips. He bemoaned. 

Grabbing his head between his hands, and digging his nails into his scalp a bit, he tried to blink hard enough to regain some sort of anchor on his increasingly unsteady feet. When that proved to be futile, he let out a low grumble, dropping down low to grab the scotch bottle by his feet, unscrew and drink from it with his head thrown back—to hell with it!

If he had been in his right mind, Doppo would’ve heard the tell-tale sound of barefoot steps coming his way, effectively stopping himself from almost being startled to death by an unfamiliar deep voice.

“Ehh, it’s the old coot’s weirdo.” 

His eyes watered as he coughed, alcohol burning his throat. Some scotch ended up dribbling from his chin to the pavement as he crouched forward so his shirt wouldn’t get wet after half-spitting in surprise, alcohol really got to him if he imagined the small frame currently patting his back having anything else than a high and bubbly voice. 

“Haha~☆ It’s noooo good if you drink it all up by yourself Doppo~☆!”

“I—I’m not alone! Wh—? Where are your boots?! Did you get mugged?!”

Doppo gave Fling Posse´s leader a quick once-over to spot any other misplaced belongings, faintly hearing the other two chatting as they made their way to the street light where the redhead and Ramuda were currently standing under. 

“Eh~? No way! A flirty onee-san kicked me out of her dorm and I forgot my shoes on the way out! I’m so careless~☆”

“What were ya’ doing this time around Ramuda…  Nghyaa—! Never mind! Don’t answer! I don’t wanna know!” Dice fake-yelled as he put his cigarette-free hand around the shorter man’s shoulders, and loudly kissed the top of his head. Blue dreamily and softly mixing with pink in Doppo’s blurry eyesight. 

He blinked a few times to get the pair out of his mind’s eye, but it was futile. Tired and more than a little bit drunk, Doppo couldn’t make up his mind. He really had nothing better to do right now. His shared apartment was too far away to walk there, he had no money on him thanks to Arisugawa and he was starting to feel uncertain on where he stood with his nightly companions. He staggered back a bit as their bottle was passed around, different mouths taking in the burning liquid. Before he could make up his mind and get the hell out of there, an unnaturally soft-looking hand, free of any kind of blemishes, offered him what was left of the scotch. 

“Guuu~ys! Go get your slouchy pet, we totally need more booze! Aww, he looks sooo alone standing by himself! Dice pwease get him.” 

And just like that, self-deprecation on hold, the redhead decided to go along with them again. He was absolutely not irked at the cocky pink brat, and he did not jolt at everyone’s snickers when Arisugawa dragged him by his wrist. 

Eh? Wait a minute. 

More booze!?

He was so going to regret it. Or end up strangling someone. 

His vision was slightly blurred, everything felt like either he was on autopilot or watching a tasteless B-rated movie, he was absolutely certain that if he were to look at his own face in a bathroom's mirror he would be so put out by himself that sobering up would be easy—way too easy! But there was no mirror, only drunktards that mirrored his own fucked up psyche in different ways. Fucked up! This was so fucked up, it was driving him insane and it was oh so easy to get lost in the alcohol, let himself finally go. 

He couldn't stand the noises the other made, couldn't stand his juvenile face, hated his carefree attitude, abhorred how easily he carried himself through the night—how comfortable he looked at being a good for nothing gambler, jealous, jealous, the salary man was drowning in jealousy as the other three made idiots out of themselves. He couldn't take it anymore. He could gobble every single one of them and spit them out, they were no better than him, they made him sick. He made himself sick by how much he zoned in, how much he wanted to fall and drown in the sea of magenta that mimicked his own frenzy. 

"And then I begged the idiot for—mmph!?" 

Dice felt more than saw what happened, his sideburns were tightly grabbed, tight enough to forcibly drag and slam him against another body. Shocked, he opened his mouth to curse at whoever cut short his drunken ramblings but in what felt like a second a slobbering kiss was trying to devour his mouth and soul.

The fuck!? 

Focusing and unfocusing the way too close nose bumping against his own, the alcohol doing nothing to help his eyesight, the jolting pain of hands pulling at his nape hairs and the desperate kissing made his head spin. It took him a grunt and a harsh bite against his lower lip to realize it was the anxious wreck of a man the one he was currently kissing back. It felt delirious against the muffled whooping sounds he heard, delirious in how he pulled the other as close as he could, deliriously blissful as they moaned against each other's mouths as their air ran out but neither relented, the heat from the nightclub back by now. Each man felt an intrusive hand firmly grab the back of their necks, breaking out their focus in no longer than two blinks of their glassy eyes, a rough grunt next to their ears. 

"Don't make a bastard feel lonely, will ya?" 

Samatoki licked where their lips still touched without warning, he made himself a spot next to them as his hands went down to their waists, the warmth of their breaths was maddening in the cold night. 

What the fuck what the fuckwha—!? 

Their shared body heat felt electrifying in his drunken state, the slide and collision of their mouths and lips ridiculous, yet Doppo still untangled one of his hands from Dice's hair to slide down and… grab the ass of Yokohama's mad dog. In a weirdly lucid second, the redhead thought to himself that the man had a rather flat ass as he sharply inhaled through his nose, whimpering at how turned on he was. 

The pleasure melting his gut hastily came to an end as the yakuza suddenly bit next to his mouth, the hand gripping his waist now a painful hold and Dice was no longer licking his jaw's underside. 

" You pink piece of shit!" 

"Hehe! Sowwy~☆ I don't like being left out!" 

"Oi, oi Ramuda…did ya' just waste what was left of my can!?" 

Now that the blue haired man mentioned it, and Doppo was no longer distracted by two very alluring men, he noticed that Samatoki was fuming—well, dripping wet. With beer. Ugh now they reeked even more of cheap beer, he bemoaned. Untangling himself from them, Doppo took a moment to breathe again as he stumbled next to Dice. The pink menace, uh, Ramuda was currently laughing his lungs out as both men screamed at him, nonchalantly bouncing on his bare feet as he came closer to the wet dog. Uh … wet Samatoki… is the shrimp trying to fondle the man he assaulted with cheap beer now!? The salary man choked on his—their? spit.

"C'mon Samatoki-sama, lemme have some fun tooo…! Hehehe!" 

"Motherfucker, stop opening up my shirt! It fuckin' reeks now asshole!! At least take me out to do some lines before ya' pull this shit!" 

As he rubbed slobber off his jaw, Doppo's foggy eyesight got assaulted by blinding blue underglow lights coming from a fairly-new and large SUV. Between the LED lights and his spinning surroundings, he didn't question why the vehicle parked near them. But he did a double take when Samatoki got taken inside, kicking and spitting, by some men—were those underlings or was he witnessing a kidnapping? Only for the SUV to take off in the blink of an eye, in a fairly illegal U-turn, at high-speeds. 

"Aww, there he goes." Ramuda pouted as he squatted, his balance impressively unaffected despite the scotch and multiple beers. 

A loud whistle, "Well I guess we're off too, then." Dice, in a very wobbly manner, offered his right hand, but quickly got turned down by his leader signaling them to go away with a wave of his tiny hands.

"Bye, bye then~☆ I texted an onee-san to come pick me up!" 

The redhead grimaced, "Is that so…" but decided against finishing his reply as he noticed the other man mercilessly biting into a candy as if it were nothing, staring up fixedly at his equally tired eyes. With a squeak, Doppo hurriedly grabbed a still unsteady Arisugawa and they took off into the nightlife of Shinjuku one last time.

Not even two blocks later, with some drunken wobbliness included, the blue haired man started to pester him again. But it was only fair, after so many drinks it was only natural that their bladders would complain. 

It’s not that the streets were less busy, it was that passerbys still awake and coming out or into clubs at this hour were completely inebriated, just like them. And so, the younger man’s whining didn’t really turn any heads. “C’moooon… let’s just, go into an alleyway and be over with it.” Dice slurred as he elbowed him and nudged him with his shoulder, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The salaryman was also in a painful need to go to the bathroom, but not even wasted he would steep so low as taking a piss out on the streets, that was disgusting. Apparently, he said this between mumbles and hiccups, if Dice’s snort was anything to go by. 

“It’s no big deal!… or d’ya prefer we go into a bar’s bathroom?” he snorted again, “at this hour? You might not like what you’ll find Mr. Corporate slave.” 

“H—hey don’t just insinuate things like that!” his lower abdomen was really starting to hurt. “Ugh alright! Sorry just, let’s just turn around the next corner!”

God absolutely despised Doppo, the redhead would offer his boss’ head to change that fact if he could, because the pain he felt as he was… doing his business absolutely felt like stabs to his abdomen and manhood. Maybe he really ought to go visit the doctor… through the pain that had him sweating—or was he sweating alcohol by this point? Who knows really, he heard an extremely annoying guffaw next to him.

“Gyahaha—! I can’t— I can’t believe it, you’re fuckin’ pissing blood!! What’s next, ya’ gonna cry it too? Pff—”

Annoyed and drunk, it came to Doppo as natural as saying ‘sorry’ when he aimed at the other man’s feet.

“GAH! The fuck’s wrong with you man?” 

“Ow! Ow, ow, don’t kick me…!”

“N— nyo way … my only pair of pants...! And they’re white!!”

Just as the salaryman was starting to feel guilty and a little bit nauseated at his little stunt, a stumbling Dice leaned against him after tucking himself inside his ratty underwear, wriggling his legs out of the ruined jeans.  

“What are you doing?!”

“Gettin’ out of these, they’re…! Fuckin’ stained now,” he huffed as he got out of them, puting on his shoes again. Sockless. “Ya’ have an odd sense of humor, huh? Maybe you’re just another degenerate, like Ramuda! Maaaan ya’ really got me fooled with the whole upstanding member of society bullshit!”

“And you’re— just going to walk around pantless?!”

“Duh, any better ideas? Hey, get me another canned beer.”

“R—right away!! I’m so sorry!!”

Barely two beers later, and all the neon lights from Shinjuku’s entertainment streets spun around Doppo’s vision, his jacket now comically tied up around the blue haired man’s waist in order to at least cover up him from the front. Drunkards were staring and hollering. It was quite humiliating to him, but he gritted his teeth. The other was probably used to it, Doppo was quite sure it didn’t even bother him in the slightest. If he was sober he was sure he would be crawling in shame, but he wasn’t, so he just ogled the ass in front of him trying to picture it in something else than ratty boxers barely held up by a worn out elastic. Dazed out and trying to wet his dehydrated mouth, he jolted and stumbled into Dice’s back when he heard a familiar voice followed by a whistle. 

“Heh, seeking new night thrills my dear Doppo?”

“Yo, Mr. Host!”

It wasn’t any host. It was Shinjuku’s number one host, and also Doppo’s best friend, flatmate and worst nightmare considering his actual state. The red haired man dared to peek from behind Dice’s shoulder. Taking in Hifumi’s attire and the cigarette in his hand, it meant that he was still on the clock, so it wasn’t 5am yet. It also meant that his friend was on host mode and wouldn’t pester him for fun, not straightforwardly at least. He didn’t even notice his drinking buddy recounting their night to the very amused host, whose job was more or less listening to less than sober customers and their woes. 

“I see, that is truly unfortunate my dear Arisugawa. It even concerns my most dear friend’s health, truly a shame. I shall call Dr. Jakurai first thing tomorrow.”

“Hah! Ya’ really should! Whatd’ya know his dick might fall off or something.” 

“I truly hope it doesn’t, now about your clothes…”

“Uwoo—! Awesome man!”

His teal eyes trying their utmost to focus in the lights coming from the giant banner depicting the different working hosts from Fragrance, the salaryman didn’t notice how much time passed by since he caught a glimpse of his two companions retreating into the velvety back doors of the host club. He did, however, notice them coming back by choking on the little saliva his alcohol ridden system could still produce.

“HOW—! WHY—!! HIFUMI?! TAKE IT OFF!! TAKE IT—” Doppo staggered to where his friend was standing, wildly gesturing to him and back to Dice who was currently laughing his ass off next to the host.

Dressed in a skimpy maid outfit, courtesy of Fragrance’ s wide-ranging dressing room. 

Amusedly seeing that his job in getting his good friend closer to getting laid was done, Hifumi silently went back to his shift after applying some mouth freshener to hide the smoke’s scent, making a mental note to call their leader during the day.

Meanwhile, the opposing division's members were shoving each other, getting in each other’s faces in a mockery of a drunken fight. Scaring the few people still on the street that were surely heading towards their homes to wake up to a very hungover Saturday. And so, the officinist and the skimpy maid pushed and pressed out of the main street into more secluded backstreets. Sure, the redhead was surprised but his initial outrage was partially due to his frustrations of various kinds regarding Fling Posse’s youngest member through the night. Dice let himself be manhandled for a bit as he laughed his lungs out, overjoyed at how easy it was to make the shorter man lose his composure. It was all a game of push and pull between them that culminated in a less than romantic, barely sanitary situation, but it was a whole night of occurrences boiled down to it’s only viable outcome.

And that outcome was the blue haired man cornering Doppo into a grimy brick wall in an even grimmier alleyway, were they sober they would’ve recognized it as the place where it all started tonight. But Dice was pressing his bare thigh to the other’s hard-on as uncoordinated hands grabbed his ass from under the skirt’s frills, pulling his hips towards himself. Intoxicated and exhilarated, the taller man let out a breathy laugh, he got close to Doppo’s ear, the dice at the end of his accessory tangling a bit with the red hair next to it.

“What do ya’ want from me?” He only got to slightly lick at the sweaty jaw in front of him before his head was pulled back by a hand on his hair. Doppo kissed and sucked at his collarbone as he mumbled, but Dice couldn’t understand anything between the slurps and slurred words. Hastily, the shorter man pulled back as he kept grinding against the other. “I want to rub against your ass, like I did back at the nightclub.” A groan left his chapped lips as Dice kissed him messily, neither caring for finesse as they bit and licked, hands roaming and heavy breaths shared under  the very last of the night sky. An annoyed whine left the redhead when the other stumbled back and pulled him off the wall.

“So easy and plain,” Dice cleaned his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, a self-assured smirk on his face as his magenta eyes gazed at his equally unfocused eyes. “Alright, here, hurry up before I decide to charge you.” He laughed at his own words as if it was an inside joke they’ve shared a thousand times before as his forearm came to support him against the grubby wall. Doppo did not laugh, but he heatedly glued himself to the other’s back, frills and bows between the man he desired and his own stuffy work clothes. He snuggled his sweaty forehead to the back of Dice’s equally sweaty neck, moaning as he grinded his hips, one of his shaky hands swatting at the skirt as he tried to rub off the other’s clothed cock. “Do you charge your friends? I’m not your friend.” He felt more than heard the blue haired man laugh, he wanted to be angry and go further but his head spun with arousal and alcohol, so he could only moan as he lost himself in their movements. 

Dice was really getting off to one of his weird fantasies surrounding Matenrou’s twitchy member, hazily grinding back and forth until his back and dick unexpectedly felt cold. He had half a mind to frustratedly wonder what was wrong before something hit his head and everything went black. 

The thing that neither of them predicted was that the large man that Doppo had unfairly knocked out earlier that night was searching for them with his men. Fortunately for the pair of horndogs though, when they got woken up with cold water they managed to get on everyone’s good side, drinking what was left at the bar they got taken to and barely managing to play pool among drunken men. Not that any of them would remember later that morning. 

Free of ropes and out of the stinky bar, two bladders emptied later and headaches that felt like axes to their brains, Doppo grumbled as they ate street food that Dice got for them near the park they were currently sitting at. He squinted his eyes, the late morning sun rays and the chirping birds aggravating his (hangover) headache. 

“Maaaan what a night! Gyahaha, we should hang out with the guys more!!” Dice announced way too loudly as he hit the miserable office worker’s back. Old people taking in their morning vitamin D dose at the park eyed the odd pair warily, avoiding them. Doppo wanted to die. He really wanted to die this time around. 

“You know? You still owe me a pair of new pants”

“...I’m sorry…”

“Hmm, and a nut.”

Doppo turned around as his recently eaten food made its way back and up his throat, “Oh fuck offhrk—” Laughing jovially, Dice rubbed at his upper back. “Maybe next time we can go to a hotel and your friend can get me, I don’t know, a nurse outfit? Or what about a—”.

As he emptied his stomach, Doppo truly wanted to pass out and die, his remains could fertilize the park's soil.

(But instead of that, he got Arisugawa’s phone number and an appointment with Jakurai.)