#(1) smokestack convinced lariat that where's there's smoke

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Fake dating prompt 27 or 28 for en x gran torino pls! (I need more content of them).

details unique to this iteration of sixthtorino: en is older than sorahiko, and en's younger cousin is nana (who will be marrying out to mr. shimura).

28. you're upfront that your friends dared you to date me because I'm the Ice Queen/Forever Bachelor and I'm always up for proving people wrong | sixthtorino | wc: 997

//

En agreed to attend the Yamanashi Prefecture’s All Heroes Charity Gala only because he assumed Banjo was also going. Lariat was a reliable brick wall when Smokestack needed to hide from inquisitive eyes and questions like, “What are you hiding behind that collar?” because like hell was En going to expose his neck at a black-tie event.

And then they got the memo that Lariat was banned from attending charity galas.

“That’s not very inclusive of you,” said Banjo, trying to strong-arm his way past the hired security. He could almost be mistaken for one of them, save for the fact that his white-button collar shirt was unbuttoned to expose the cleavage of his pectoral muscles. All he needed was a gold chain to complete the gangster-like look.

“Sir, I’m extremely sorry,” said the bouncer, somehow wrestling Banjo back, “but the organizers still remember the last time you had access to the champagne table.”

“It was funny,” En argued.

“There was fire.”

In the end, since Banjo only attended the charity galas for the opportunity to cause mischief, he gracelessly conceded and told En, “Good luck,” as if that made up for his poor showing as a senpai. En glared at him, curled his hands into white-knuckled fists, and stalked past the entryway, joining a retinue of giggly first-year pro-heroes.

It sort of pained En that he still looked like a first-year; he reminded himself that he was nearly twenty-seven, which made him a total veteran among the newbies.

A total veteran who, after a mere hour of slinking around conversational hooks and the rare journalist armed with a camera, retreated to the outside pavilion. He leaned against a pillar and checked his watch for the umpteenth time, feeling the urge to exhale smoke and vanish.

Footsteps. Heavy, slow, like the person was telegraphing.

En swallowed back the smoke and waited.

“Smokestack,” said Gran Torino. En perked up, lining his spine against the stone column, wondering if he should do something to beckon Gran Torino forward. He didn’t even have any snacks to offer! “Mind if I hang out with you for a bit?”

“Not at all,” said En, the answer automatic and far too enthusiastic for an underground hero with his image.

Quietly, Gran Torino steps past En’s peripheral vision and turns on his heel, one flute of champagne in his hand. He’d followed the dress code perfectly, save for the missing black tie. And while Gran Torino wasn’t so shameless to show his chest to the world, the pale of his throat caught the moonlight.

He was also unmasked.

Gran Torino was, by most perspectives in the industry, a latecomer to the career. He hadn’t attended any schools or programs; he’d simply tested for the license, shown an aptitude for survival, and then stuck onto Seventh Wonder’s side like a stubborn, handsome burr.

That he was such close friends with Seventh Wonder was the only reason why En knew anything about him.

“How’s your partner?”

“Your cousin’s fine,” said Torino, and he took a sip of the champagne as though he needed liquid courage. If En was staring at his mouth, then that was his own business. “She thought I was hovering too much by the catering.”

“Ah, she shouldn’t have. Most people are talking too much to eat.”

“I noticed.”

En grinned at the dry comment, eyes curving into half-moon smiles, and they fell into an almost companionable silence, one wherein Torino turned his gaze to the stone steps leading out from the pavilion. The thin lips flattened into a tight line, and twisted into a grimace. Torino fidgeted with the glass flute’s stem, and then:

“I gotta tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“My friends. They dared me to ask you out.”

En blinked. A feeling, heavy like smoke, suffocating like the white foam that came out of a fire extinguisher, settled in his lungs like truth. Of course he hadn’t caught the eye of Gran Torino; of course Gran Torino had to be bullied into asking Smokestack out on a date.

He cleared his throat. “What brought me to you and your friends�� attention?”

“... It’d be kinder for you to reject me,” said Torino.

“Oh. It’s that bad?”

Swiftly, Gran Torino reached out to catch En’s wrist, the span of his long fingers sending a chill through En’s thin skin. He hoped dearly that his ears weren't beginning to flush pink. It wasn’t even skin to skin contact. What was there to be flustered about?! And anyways, wasn’t he supposed to be the one making Torino blush?

What would Banjo do? When En was dogging Lariat’s heels, or setting up the conditions of a fight beforehand, surely his senpai had dropped hints on how to flirt?

“Smokestack doesn’t date,” Torino recited, and his pale brown eyes peered down into En’s. “Trying to catch him is like trying to grasp the smoke he leaves behind. Today marks the tenth year he hasn’t brought a plus-one to an event, so maybe he’s destined to forever be a bachelor.”

En was less stung by the statements and more taken aback by the gossip that had passed him by. Standing behind Lariat really did take all the attention off him. Faintly, he said, “I see,” but Torino wasn’t finished.

“My friends think they’re funny, because they’re of the opinion that I was destined to be that forever bachelor.” He cleared his throat. “They saw me staring at you.”

“When you say ‘they’…”

“Your cousin. Her fiance. A few others that I usually don’t find annoying.”

“You were staring at me?” En echoed belatedly. Torino cleared his throat and broke eye contact, for all intents and purposes looking flustered. It was cute. It was really, really cute, and even if En was about to be cruelly disillusioned by the reality of sharing a part of his life with Gran Torino, he thought it’d be worth it, just to see Gran Torino blush. “Well, kouhai… let’s prove their opinions wrong.”