RP Log

[xyzai]

Who: Zaizen Hikaru and Hirakoba Rin
What: Bondage and creampuffs
Rating: PG-13 for ...Satan's fixation on garbage bags?
Where: Rin's apartment
When: Awhile ago?

Quickly departing the busy Ebisu train station, Zaizen followed the navigation of his phone through the crowd and winding streets. Things were slightly quieter, but still relatively busy, when google informed him that he had reached his destination. He peered up at the relatively tall building, as if he could discern the floor, before sliding inside after an old lady.

It didn’t take much to find Hirakoba in the directory.

Buzz. “Not pizza,” he said.

Hirakoba was startled out of his readings by the buzzing of the door bell and he glanced at the clock - shit, was it already that time?

“Hi darling,” he said, reaching the intercom. “I’m on the eighth floor. Second door on your left when you get up.” He paused, about to buzz Zaizen in. “Take your time, I need to put some pants on.”

Zaizen stared at the buzzer, nose crinkling in annoyance. The trash bag bondage part of this whole shebang hadn’t even started and he wanted to turn around. Take his time? Where was he supposed to go?

The snacks had better be worth it.

Because he had time, apparently, he rode the fancy elevator up to the topmost floor and took a picture for insta. Why not?

Hirakoba fished out a pair of lounge pants and after a bit of indecision, a shirt as well. He could always take it off later if he wanted.

And then… no one appeared at his door. Had Zaizen actually taken him seriously when he’d told him to take his time? Was he meandering up the stairs, perhaps? Was he just standing and waiting outside the door, his nose pressed against it? He could also see that happening.

Hirakoba stuck his head out the door to look up and down the corridor just in case.

As he awaited word from Hirakoba, Zaizen wandered the floors, occasionally stopping to peek out a window or reply to something on instagram. He only bothered removing headphones when one of the neighbors came out with a friendly puppy and let him ruffle its ears and take a few more pictures.

Zaizen sent one to Hirakoba. Your neighbor is more friendly than you.

Ah, and there went his phone. Hirakoba stared at the picture for a long moment before he sighed and replied. Wrong floor. Clothes are on.

And Hirakoba would just linger at the door looking down the corridor to make sure Zaizen was actually going to appear.

Still in no hurry, Zaizen let the puppy chase his keychain around a little before the owner bowed out for an official walk. Now bereft of puppy, Zaizen replied back, are you sure that you had time to put on pants?

Just in case, he took the stairs at a mosey. Even in a nice building, the stairs were always a bit same and dreary. It was comforting.

Very sure. Hirakoba sent back and then he paused. Hurry up or I’ll remove them, they’re uncomfortable.. He hated wearing pants. Even soft, well made lounge pants by Kite.

There was still no sign of Zaizen though - had he died in the elevator? Had his neighbour’s dog eaten him? Hirakoba made an impatient noise and shut the door, leaving it unlocked as he went back to the kitchen to put on the kettle. And he made sure to check that the second bedroom door was shut on the way.

Zaizen stared at his phone, wondering if he could will that message and the accompanying image to just disappear. Since he hadn’t miraculously gained esp, he climbed down the stairs a bit faster and eventually came to knock lightly on Hirakoba’s door.

And there was the knock on the door finally. Hirakoba smiled when he opened it and gestured for Zaizen to come in, shutting the door and making sure to lock it behind him.

“Just head in and sit on the couch, darling,” Hirakoba said, waving his hand vaguely in its direction. “Can I assume you want about four spoons of sugar in your tea?”

Green eyes peered up at Hirakoba’s smiling features and lingered for a few moments before he slid past the blond and slowly shuffled his shoes off. At first glance, the area didn’t have much character, and that assumption didn’t really change when he padded his way to the living room.

The word darling made him frown at Hirakoba’s back. “...Two,” he said, because he usually took the extra two as packets to go. “...And cream, if you have it.”

The kettle was still boiling so Hirakoba followed Zaizen into the living room. “My wifi password’s on the fridge if you actually want it,” Hirakoba said, still smiling as he moved to pack up his university readings from the couch, moving them into a corner to deal with later - he’d have to go back to them later today anyway. “Or you can keep looking around. Hell’s surprisingly lacking in fire and brimstone.”

Hell really was a bit on the boring side. Although Zaizen did pass a few moments watching Hirakoba’s tropical fish swim to and fro from their castles around the tank. He followed one to one end, and then the other, until it hid from his camera. After a quick peek at the couch and a few other things on the wall, he moved silently into the kitchen for that wifi password.

There were some pots and pans in the tidy kitchen, but none of the little cups or containers seemed to house tortured souls. It was kind of disappointing.

“Do you keep the damned in your bedroom?” Zaizen asked, typing the password into his phone.

Hirakoba watched Zaizen rifle around his kitchen with thinly veiled amusement as he put the tea together. What did he expect to find in there? A collection of different sized trash bags? Pornography?

“Of course,” he said, handing Zaizen’s cup of tea out to him. “Most people come over to the apartment to end up in there, it’s just more convenient.” Hirakoba smiled and took out the box of cream puffs from his fridge. “I get to sleep easier when I listen to them screaming.”

“They’re being very quiet and well-behaved now,” Zaizen said, not missing a beat as he cupped the wickedly perfect looking cup of more-cream-than-tea. “Is it to lure me into a false sense of security?”

He stepped back a few paces to let Hirakoba have the front of the fridge and slid his phone into his pocket for the time being.

“They think if they behave well enough, one day I might let them free,” Hirakoba said, laughing a bit as he shook his head. He pulled out some cheese tarts as well, and carefully balanced it with his cup of tea in the other hand to head to the couch.

“I might have to keep you separate from them though, you might be a bad influence on them.” Hirakoba gestured with his chin for Zaizen to sit down and he set out the food. “You wouldn’t mind staying in the living room, right?”

Someone nice might have helped out with carrying all of the items to the living room. Instead, Zaizen walked at a pace or two behind Hirakoba, still absorbing his host and listening to discern whether or not the blond was actually being facetious.

Answer: probably.

“Why invite me over at all, if I’m such a bad influence?” Zaizen asked slowly, sitting far away enough on the couch for a few of those tortured souls to be able to fit between them. This wasn’t a protest of the living room, far from it. He wanted to be where the cream puffs were.

“I thought I was practising my bondage skills on you,” Hirakoba said with mock surprise, putting a cream puff and a cheese tart on plates for both of them. “I even got out a necktie and everything to use.” He smiled, not letting Zaizen know if he was being serious or not.

He held out one of the plates for Zaizen to take. “Besides, you’re so cute. I think if I kept you separate, it’s fine. Don’t go into my bedroom, please.”

Zaizen cupped the milky tea and blew delicately, as if it could still somehow possibly be hot after death by creamer. But instead of taking a sip, he put it down to receive the plate and line the objects neatly relative to each other.

“Obviously it would be too familiar if you put me in a trash bag in your bedroom,” he said flatly, flicking his somewhat cutting gaze from the fish to Hirakoba. “What kind of necktie?”

Hirakoba moved to sit on the couch, curling up on one side of it with his plate and cup of tea, tucking his legs carefully under him.

“A nice purple one,” he said with a laugh to himself and Hirakoba takes a sip of tea, humming a bit at it - needed more sugar… “I got it for a gift and I don’t really wear neckties. And I was instructed to find some kind of use for it.”

Zaizen made to pick up his tea again and sounded his vague acknowledgement of Hirakoba’s struggle. “Can it wait for after I finish my tea?”

That, or he supposed that Hirakoba could take one hand without much impact.

“Definitely,” Hirakoba said, pulling apart the cream puff on his plate to eat one half of it. “I’m not going to let you drink tea in the trashbag, it might spill everywhere.”

“So, Crepe-kun,” he still couldn’t believe he didn’t know their actual name. It was funny and the longer it went on… Hirakoba decided he really didn’t want to know. “Hell’s not too traumatic so far, right?”

Somewhat reasonable, at least. Instead of meeting Hirakoba’s eyes, Zaizen kept his lashes trained down on the tea, and then on the cheese tart when he decided to be adventurous.

Lifting it up, he paused midway to his mouth and considered the question, “Cerberus was nice,” he said of the puppy from before. “More fish than anticipated.”

Zaizen took a little bite of his cheese instead of elaborating on exactly how many fish he expected.

Cerberus… was Zaizen referring to the puppy upstairs as the gatekeeper? How hilarious.

Hirakoba ate the second half of the cream puff, staring at Zaizen as he chewed thoughtfully. “Would you be amenable to changing the bondage part of this meeting?” he asked, resting back against the side of the couch.

The cheese tart met with enough approval for him to take another bite and wash it down with a sip of milky tea.

“...” Zaizen looked up from his cup and narrowed his eyes in consideration. “Amendments to the date need to be made in writing. Text me.”

“I’ll suppose you’ll be stuck with the original idea, then,” Hirakoba said with an easy shrug, going back to his tea. And that was fine. “And I was going to try make it a bit easier for you too.”

He hummed a bit to fill the silence, listened to the sound of the fish tank filter and then started on the cheese tart. This silence was oddly peaceful.

Attention returning to his tart, Zaizen said, “You’re not that dedicated to making this easier for me. I don’t trust it.”

Once the tart was nothing but a delicious memory, he eyed Hirakoba quietly, then decided he was also owed a cream puff. He emulated the blond and took it apart delicately, eating only one half before returning to his tea.

Hirakoba sipped on his tea quietly, glancing between Zaizen and the fish tank, still humming to himself.

“Did you enjoy the cheese tart?” Hirakoba asked, looking at the box - still 4 left. “I think they’re a little nicer than the cream puffs”

To answer the question, Zaizen took another cheese tart for himself and surveyed Hirakoba’s reaction. A beat later, and then another, he asked, “Can you play it aloud? What you’re humming?”

It didn’t sound terribly familiar.

Hirakoba just blinked at Zaizen taking a second. Well, that’s what he bought them for.

He laughed though at the question and the humming abruptly stopped. “No, I’d need a sanshin for that,” he said with a bit of a smile. “And we’ve been over this already.”

“I didn’t say it had to be you,” Zaizen drawled, gaze crawling over to Hirakoba’s phone. There was no reason not to put the song on properly. “Your fish will like it.”

Zaizen really wasn’t sure what fish liked, but he wasn’t about to admit his own curiosity.

Fair enough. Hirakoba might have actually agreed to that except that Zaizen’s reasoning made him pause and laugh a bit. “No, my fish here don’t like Okinawan music,” he said with a glance at them. “They’re mainland fish. My tank at home do come out for food when you sing to them, though.”

Nodding vaguely over his tea, Zaizen remained only slightly convinced. More likely, the fish came out when they saw the bottle of food and sprinkling motions. Although he supposed it was possible that whatever garbled sound moved through the water triggered the fish to realize food was near.

“What music does the kanto tank favor?” he asked, Kansai-ending lingering a bit on the air.

“They tend to like eurobeat,” Hirakoba said, moving to stretch his legs out a bit, leaning back against the armrest. “They’re not too fussy though.”

He turned to watch the tank again, smiling a bit at the zipping in and out of the little castle. “They’re being more lively today than normal. Maybe they like your voice, Crepe-kun.”

They looked like perfectly ordinary fish to Zaizen. Still, he picked up his phone and set a Eurobeat radio to play for the pleasure of the tank.

“What are they normally, just floating boredly?”

The fish didn’t seem to respond to the music and Hirakoba stifled a smile. “They all have different personalities. Some of them float around, some swim quite a lot.”

He went back to his tea and made a soft noise as he stretched out his legs fully. “If you want them to hear the music properly, you’ll have to get closer.”

Zaizen glared at Hirakoba, at this point wordlessly accusing him of simply making up the whole music thing.

The second half of the cream puff found its way into his mouth as he approached the fish tank with his music. He supposed they were pretty, in a sad sort of way. “Do they have names?”

Hirakoba took advantage of Zaizen getting up from the couch to lay his legs along it and he watched with great amusement as Zaizen actually approached the tank.

Already, the fish were starting to move a bit more, but he had a deep suspicion it was just because they thought they were going to be fed.

“I’m sure when I got them, my sister named them. I don’t really know them, though.”

That was even worse. The flat line of his mouth tipped into something of a frown, Zaizen opened the camera function of his phone and studied the fish darting this way and that. First, he captured the one circling in and out of the castle, “That one is Mario. He’s looking for the princess.”

He snapped the picture.

This is just amusing now.

Hirakoba hummed in acknowledgement at Zaizen’s first fish naming and went back to his tea. “And which one’s his princess? Or is that you?” Hirakoba asked teasingly.

“His princess is still at the pet shop,” Zaizen said, turning this very quickly into a tragedy. “Satan,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

And he took another picture of a blue one moseying along some fake plants, “That one looks kind of like you. She can be Lucy.” The feminine of Lucifer.

It took him a few moments to realise what on earth Zaizen was trying to get at with the “Lucy” and he finally snorted a bit in laughter.

“Are you going to name one after yourself as well? Maybe the yellow one.” The cup of tea was disappearing a bit faster than Hirakoba would’ve liked. “Make the music louder, there’s a few shy ones that like to hide.”

Thinking about that for a second gave Zaizen pause. He shook his head once and upped the volume on his phone a few bars. It didn’t seem to scare additional fish out of the woodwork, but he noticed another one floating around the top of the tank.

“The one up there is Play Dead.”

“That’s a very strange way for a fish to play dead,” Hirakoba said, getting up off the couch to approach the tank.

He picked up the packet of fish treats and rustled it in front of the tank, humming a bit and two fish popped out from a castle. “There you go, darling, a few more for you to name.”

When Hirakoba approached, Zaizen put his eyes on him, immediately gauging the intent of proximity. But, on realizing that Hirakoba only intended to feed the fish, he stopped trying to pin him to the wall by the force of his gaze alone.

“....”

Zaizen turned back to the tank. “D….darkness,” he gestured to the lighter of the hiding ones. “And d….duck.”

… Zaizen’s names sucked.

Hirakoba just shook his head, amused as he sang a little more, sprinkling the fish treats over the water’s surface. And the last fish popped out of hiding.

“How’s your tea going, Crepe-kun?” he asked, putting the lid back on the tank again.

Narrowing his eyes on the fish, Zaizen searched his brain for more d words to attack the one that Hirkaoba continuously applied to him. “Dank meme,” he decided, then peered back at the table at his still nearly full cup of tea.

“...I’m letting it cool,” he said, as if it had actually been warm in the first place with all the dairy added to it.

“You could always let it cool while you’re tied up,” Hirakoba said - surely that was reasonable. “I’ll give you the rest of the cheese tarts to take home if you do.”

“There’s only three left,” Zaizen protested, unimpressed by the bid. “Tie one hand. I’ll drink my tea with the other.” And maybe help himself to that last cheese tart.

… How many cheese tarts did Zaizen expect to get?

But on the other hand, his offer wasn’t too bad and Hirakoba shrugged. “Alright, then. Stay here, darling, I just need to get the tie from my room.”

He kept a careful eye on Zaizen as he moved to his bedroom, in case the other decided to make a bid for freedom in the time being.

Not dissatisfied with that compromise, Zaizen behaved. He took a few more pictures of the fish and peered out the window. In passing, he was still curious about that closed door, but determined that it was likely messy, like Akaya’s spare bedroom.

“Is the cleaner allowed in your room?” he asked.

Hirakoba emerged from his room with the purple tie from Tokugawa - well, at least it was going to get some use? “Yes of course she is?” Hirakoba said, shutting the door anyway. “She doesn’t disturbed my tortured souls in there, so it’s fine.”

His actual bedroom wasn’t the issue here, it was his second bedroom whose door he kept carefully closed from visitors.

“How do you know that she’s not bringing them treats from the outside?” Zaizen suggested, peering down onto the street where Cerberus and his owner were walking by. “Also, are they tied up, or do they know to stay put?”

“Ah, don’t say that, darling,” Hirakoba said with a sigh, approaching Zaizen. “Or else I’ll have to find another cleaner who won’t try turn my prisoners against me.”

He held out one hand towards Zaizen and waved the tie a little in front of him. “One hand, please. You can even pick which one.”

“Saying it doesn’t make it true or not,” Zaizen said, holding his left hand limply out to Hirakoba. After all, he potentially needed his right arm to fight himself free and properly escort cheese tarts to his mouth.

“But I’ll be automatically more suspicious.” Hirakoba carefully knotted the end of the tie around Zaizen’s wrist. Then he ran his finger around the inside of the tie, just to make sure it wasn’t too tight. “Shall we go back to the couch?” he asked with a smile, giving the tie a bit of a tug.

The delicate touch to his wrist made Zaizen shiver and pull instinctively at the tie. As if that reaction were Hirakoba’s fault, he favored the blond with a lukewarm glare. “Or you could have more faith in the people you pay.”

He spent a few somewhat undignified moments resisting the pull. “My tea, first,” Zaizen said, approaching the spot with his cup inch by inch.

“Ah, but I don’t pay her,” Hirakoba said, watching Zaizen head towards his tea. “My father does, and he’s actually a decent person. I don’t think he’d approve of me collecting tortured souls.”

He tugged again on the tie and made his way slowly to the couch, giving Zaizen another tug. “Come on, sit with me on the couch with your tea.”

It was difficult; on one hand, he wanted to sit on the couch, and on the other, he didn’t want to cooperate. Arm fully extended and limp between them, Zaizen narrowed his eyes at Hirakoba again and shuffled just a little bit closer. “I’ll sit here,” he said, taking a seat just a little farther than where he had been sitting and crossed over his other arm to reach for the tea.

It would’ve been boring if Zaizen had just complied and Hirakoba had to suppress a smile. “That’s fine,” he said, settling down on the couch as well.

He didn’t stay there long though, shuffling closer to Zaizen. Hirakoba stopped right next to him, still holding tightly onto the end of the tie. “I’m afraid I forgot to get trashbags in your size,” he said apologetically, shortening the length of the tie. “And I simply can’t use my larger ones on you, I have a date tonight.’

“I understand,” Zaizen said flatly, eying the seated Hirakoba over the cold tea, which still tasted annoyingly good. He was careful to keep his bound hand relaxed between them; as a musician, he had to take delicate care with his wrists and fingers. “You couldn’t dump them without a garbage bag. It wouldn’t be right.”

Hirakoba carefully manoeuvred Zaizen’s arm into position so he could lean in and hug the other male with both arms, while still holding onto the tie. “Well, the date could end up going well,” Hirakoba said, casually as though nothing had changed. “I’m optimistic, this one isn’t a law student.”

Zaizen noised his disgruntled protest when Hirakoba wrapped himself around him. After an experimental and defiant wiggle proved ineffective, he considered twisting his arm in its confines to pinch the blond. But no, that chanced hurting his wrist depending on how Hirakoba moved.

As much as he could, he glared at Hirakoba, threatening to wet his thighs with cold tea. “Maybe you should save all this for him.”

Hirakoba just stayed casually hugging Zaizen, giving him a pat on the shoulder when he stopped wriggling. He laughed, resting his chin on Zaizen’s shoulder as he shuffled just a bit closer. “I don’t do this to people I date,” he said, smiling. “It’s the two categories of people. I do different things with each. You’re in the small and cuddling category.”

“Does this category have an unsubscribe?” Zaizen said, automatically tensing to the voice and breath so intimately close to his ear. He tilted his head in the opposite direction and brought the tea threateningly closer to Hirakoba.

“I’d get rid of you if you weren’t nice to cuddle,” Hirakoba said, his arms tightening around Zaizen briefly before they loosened. Too bad Zaizen was actually quite a nice size for it and his attitude was refreshing. “Do you not like cuddles, darling?”

That sounded dubious; he wondered if Hirakoba had the mafia ties to dump his trashbagged body into the bay. Maybe. But that didn’t stop Zaizen from saying flatly, “I remember already telling you something like that.”

After the false hope that he would be released, Zaizen slowly made like he was setting his teacup precariously on Hirakoba’s thigh.

Zaizen was putting up quite well for someone who didn’t like cuddles and Hirakoba gave him a pat on the side. At least, until he felt the cup settle on his thigh and he looked down, and then back to Zaizen’s face.

“If you tip that on me, I will just take my pants off and you’ll be stuck with half-naked cuddles instead,” he said flatly. At least it wasn’t hot still, so really, Hirakoba would just be inconvenienced by it.

His frown settled deeper. Zaizen let the cup wobble precariously on Hirakoba’s thigh. It teetered back and forth with his thoughts. If he spilled the tea, there was a greater than zero percent chance he could escape while Hirakoba changed. However, if he didn’t manage, then he would have to deal with a half-naked blond treating him like eucalyptus to a koala.

“I don’t want that,” Zaizen said, deciding to set his tea down between Hirakoba’s thighs. Whether he opted to move it or focus on squeezing his thighs together to keep it upright, Zaizen might have a window of lapsed concentration. Hand now free of tea, he reached for a cheese tart to eat as messily as he was capable of doing.

What on earth…? Hirakoba frowned at the cup of tea now between his legs. “You’re not really the normal sort of person whose hands I’d have between my thighs,” Hirakoba said with a bit of a fond pat to Zaizen’s cheek. “Maybe if you grew another 10 cm I’d think about it.”

Deciding to ignore the completely unwarranted remark about his height, Zaizen brought his head as far back from Hirakoba’s hands as he could. “That’s a teacup,” he explained, tone dripping in sarcasm as he directed an irritated glare at the blond.

“And that was your hand on the teacup,” Hirakoba said, fondly patting Zaizen on the cheek again. “Can I get you another cup of tea? You can use the wifi in the meantime.” Since, he’d promised Zaizen that, hadn’t he?

“Which stayed on the handle of the cup and not between your thighs,” Zaizen clarified, swatting Hirakoba’s hand away after it found his cheek again. He stopped his mild assault to finish up the half-cheese tart still in his clutches. Chewing thoughtfully, he eyed Hirakoba and turned his suspicious over and around. “Cream and sugar,” Zaizen reminded the blond that he would have to go into the other room to make that happen.

“It came close enough for me to be concerned,” Hirakoba said. He hummed and leaned forward to tie the loose end of the tie around the table leg, giving Zaizen a pat on the shoulder as he stood up to go to the kitchen. “And two sugars, I remember.”

The shoulder pat was less offensive than the face pat, but still enough to earn Hirakoba a glare that faded slightly with the confusion of being left tied to the table.

Zaizen had one hand entirely free and could quite easily undo the lazy knot cast about the table leg. Or simply lift the table and run off. Opting for the a cream puff instead, he scooted as far away as the tie allowed and opened his phone for some soothing spotify and blog scrolling.

Hirakoba tilted his head slightly at the sound of the music from Zaizen’s phone as he switched on the kettle again, getting their cups of tea ready. “So besides your music, what else do you enjoy, darling?” Hirakoba asked, poking his head around to look at Zaizen. “And besides eating sweet things.”

“It’s a short list,” Zaizen lied. Really, he wasn’t as unhappy and pessimistic as he pretend to be. Looking Hirakoba straight in the eye, he tugged at the binding and asked, “What do you like, aside from depriving me of crepes, hating other law students, and creating different trash bag routes for tall men?”

It was actually amusing that Zaizen remained tied to the table and Hirakoba considered going over and just tightening the knot a bit more. Maybe later. “You make my hobbies sound so bad…” he said. “I like dancing as well, and surfing.” Hirakoba moved into the kitchen as he heard the kettle start to boil. “Oh, and shopping.”

Zaizen had known about the surfing, from their conversation regarding Wakayama. It wasn’t exactly an activity that Hirakoba could pursue so easily and regularly from here, however. After tucking the cream puff away into his belly, he said, “Does shopping count as a hobby?”

Hirakoba took a moment to make up their cups of tea and returned armed with them. “I think it counts for me,” he said, placing Zaizen’s cup carefully on the table before he sat down himself. “I mean, I enjoy it, I do it quite regularly… what else defines a hobby?” He leaned forward to start untying the tie on the table leg, keeping half an eye on Zaizen in the meantime.

“I would think that space might pose a limitation…” but looking around Hirakoba’s somewhat sizable apartment, Zaizen was not so sure about that. “Does it give you a sense of fulfillment or progression?”

Zaizen reached for the cup of tea with the roped hand before Hirakoba could take it captive once more. The tie dangling from his wrist was in odd contrast to their extremely civil conversation. As he sipped at the beverage, he stared over his cup, almost daring the blond to do something about it.

“Is that what hobbies are meant to do?” Hirakoba asked lightly, watching Zaizen carefully. “My hobbies don’t really do that, I just enjoy doing them.”

He put his cup down to lean closer, starting to tie the tie around both of Zaizen’s wrists. After all, even with wrists tied, he’d be able to drink his tea easily enough. “I’ll have you know also, it’s not just tall men that have trashbag routes. Just at the moment, it’s them.”

“Don’t knot it,” Zaizen said firmly. “Or I’ll leave.”

Loosely tied, however, had him contented enough to continue sipping tea and eating cream puffs. “Then maybe that’s your hobby. Progressing to smaller trash bags. Leaving presents for the garbage men around the city. The opposite of It’s Raining Men.”

Hirakoba just tucked the loose end in and sat back. Good enough, it wasn’t like Zaizen was doing anything to get the tie to loosen anyway. He laughed a bit and sipped at his tea. “Well, I dated females first, maybe it’s a cycle instead. And eventually I’ll go back to dating females again and leaving their smaller trashbags around the city.”

Satisfied, Zaizen not only left the limply tucked tie be, but he also went out of his way to keep it balanced for Hirakoba. After all, his laugh wasn’t unpleasant. “Women aren’t necessarily smaller,” Zaizen pointed out, considering the blond’s rather interesting statement. “So it works in cycles for you? That way, you always have the trash bags that you need on hand? Efficient.”

“I only date smaller females,” Hirakoba replied, smiling a bit. After all, he had very specific requirements for males, it made sense that he had the same for females. “Yes it’s in cycles. I’ll probably have another complete cycle before I’m thirty… maybe two, depending.” Hirakoba frowned and looked consideringly in the direction of his kitchen. “I hope they still make the size trashbags I use in 10 years, they’re perfect.”

Zaizen considered this dilemma with another sip of his renewed tea. “...You might want to buy them in bulk, just in case.”

He couldn’t help but be curious about what sort of thing pushed the cycles faster or slower. While he guessed it had to do with specific-person encounters, he couldn’t be entirely sure. “Do you have a different policy with women, then? Since they are smaller and more cuddle-size?”

“Don’t they disintegrate over time, though?” Hirakoba pondered, drumming his fingers on the sides of his cup. He wouldn’t want to give them a path to escape through a dodgy old trashbag.

Hirakoba laughed at the question. “I like small cuddle-sized girls. With short hair.” Usually black, funnily enough, with his own dyed hair.

That was a fair point. Rhetorically, he said, “Would they, on their own?” Zaizen assumed that they would in a landfill, but without any trash to break them down, would eventual disintegration still occur? “Do you cuddle them?” he asked, to discern if Hirakoba’s girl-rules were different than boy rules.

Putting down the tea while maintaining the integrity of his bindings was difficult, but somehow he succeeded in this endeavor. Flicking his gaze to the purple tie and then directly at Hirakoba, he said, “How many bondage levels are you looking to elevate today?”

“If you leave them long enough, I’m sure.” And 10 years was a long time. Probably best not to risk it.

Hirakoba kept a close eye on Zaizen’s wrists as he also worked his way through his cup of tea. “I do cuddle girlfriends, yes,” Hirakoba said. He didn’t quite understand why Zaizen was asking so many questions about it, but it wasn’t like they were particularly difficult ones to answer. “They’re always of the good cuddling size as well, I make sure of that.”

He did lean a bit closer to fix up the wrist binding as soon as Zaizen had put down his cup of tea, just tightening it slightly and tucking the end in a bit neater again. “I think for this time with you, I’ve gone far enough,” Hirakoba said with a smile. “I mean, really from here, it’s just locking you in my closet, and I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

The I make sure of that sounded somewhat ominous, like Hirakoba cut them off at the ankles if they grew too high. Or maybe just sabotaged any heels. Zaizen thought of his as the blond adjusted his ties. Hirakoba had an interesting sexuality and it really wasn’t his business; but why hold back on curiosity if his companion seemed perfectly willing to answer questions?

“Is the WiFi signal in your closet, good? Does your closet lock at all?”

“Well, it used to be my sisters bedroom and she never complained,” Hirakoba said. And he risked another hug for Zaizen, loosely wrapping his arms around. He paused and clarified, just in case Zaizen got the wrong idea. “We used to live together for high school. And when she moved back home, I converted it.”

There, that sounded slightly better than him locking his sister in his closet. “And it should lock? We never really closed doors here unless we had other people over… but my room does.”

Zaizen stared. And continued to stare as Hirakoba continued to elaborate on his story, only making it marginally less strange with further detail. “First of all, your closet is an entire room?” he started there, because it seemed like the strangest bit after having talked to Hirakoba for a good amount of time. “And second, does it lock from the inside or the outside?”

Hirakoba took the lack of protest at the hug to scoot a little closer and he rested his chin on Zaizen’s shoulder, still hugging him loosely. “Yes it is a whole room.” He never would understand why people thought this was strange. It made it so much easier to have space to organise things, rather than having them crammed into a small cupboard. “And from the inside. Who locks a bedroom door from the outside?”

The closer Hirakoba wriggled, the darker Zaizen’s expression grew. Like a stormcloud at saturation, when the blond’s chin hit his shoulder, he made a rumbling noise and attempted to shrug him off.

“You? With your captive and tormented souls, and all,” he muttered and strongly considered making a run for that protected room.

Hirakoba just loosened his grip slightly around Zaizen, but he still stayed pretty close by. “I have other things keeping them here than just locked doors,” Hirakoba said with an amused smile.

He hummed and prodded Zaizen lightly on the arm. “What colour do you think I should wear on my date tonight, darling?”

Zaizen formalized his discontent through protest now that his limbs were free enough to do so. He whapped Hirakoba’s forearm lightly with the tie binding his wrist, though it did little more than stir the downy hairs on lightly tanned skin. The blond’s breath on his hair smelled like sweets and tea, but still, it was the principle of the thing.

“Navy,” he decided. “For the shirt. Gray or white pants.”

Hirakoba barely noticed the hit, thinking about the suggested outfit. A navy shirt and grey or white pants… that was definitely easy, but he had a suspicion he didn’t have a brand new navy shirt and he frowned. “That could work,” he said. “What colour shoes?”

He patted Zaizen idly on the arm and sighed a bit. “I’ll have to kick you out soon so I can get ready.”

“Brown,” Zaizen decided immediately, for visual interest. “And fine. I’ll leave as soon as you let go of me.” To remind Hirakoba that he had to do that, pinched the arm that patted him.

But. Maybe he would go back upstairs and see if his new friend was back from his walk.

Well that pinch hurt a little. Hirakoba sighed and for that, Zaizen got a bit of a squeezey hug and a fond poke on the cheek as Hirakoba pulled away.

“Let me pack up all the rest of the sweets for you,” he said, turning away to gather up the tarts and cream puffs. There weren’t many left, but he’d promised them to Zaizen anyway. “You can say goodbye to your bevy of named fish in the meantime.”

Zaizen wriggled a bit against that hug, not unlike a child totally done with having sunscreen applied and ready to get to the playground. He blew an annoyed puff of air at the prodding finger and protested, “Undo this first.”

… It wasn’t like the tie would actually be difficult for Zaizen to undo himself. But Hirakoba sighed and unwrapped it, neatly folding it up and putting it to the side. “Better?” he asked, prodding Zaizen again on the cheek.

“Anything else I should do before I put together a parting goodie bag for you?”

Zaizen tipped to the side with Hirakoba’s poke, and then directed a little frown his way. But at least his hands escaped unscathed. He rotated his wrists and said, “unless you want to model your outfit, I’m good with a goodie bag.”

“I’ll pass. I need to bathe beforehand anyway and I don’t know if I trust you alone in my apartment for that long.” Hirakoba smiled and got up from the couch, heading into the kitchen to get a proper bag. And then he held out the bag with the leftovers out to Zaizen. “Thank you for visiting, darling. I’ll make sure to get some smaller trashbags for you for next time.”

“I won’t be offended if you don’t,” Zaizen drawled, standing as he fully accepted the distrust and the edible goodies that came part and parcel with it. “Bye, Satan.”