Chapter Text
Treat You
It was dim and cool in Survive as Zhao stepped in from the heat of the evening, and as his eyes adjusted he saw Joon-gi sitting alone at the bar. In front of him was the familiar glass of whiskey, and a huge bunch of lilies.
Zhao sauntered over and deposited himself on the stool beside him with a catlike yawn. “Nice flowers.”
“Nice bonsai.” Joon-gi nodded to the elaborate little tree Zhao had put down on the bar. “Where did that come from?”
He allowed himself a small, slightly goofy smile. “Where do you think?”
Joon-gi laughed, a soft little chuckle Zhao had only heard a few times before. “Of course.” He ghosted a fingertip over a lily petal. “These, too.”
A whiskey appeared in front of Zhao, and he murmured his thanks to the bartender before taking a sip. “It’s nice to be thought of.” He felt a gentle spike of heat in his cheeks as he spoke, and it wasn’t down to the alcohol.
His companion was giving him that disconcerting look he did so often, giving Zhao the sense that he could see right through him. But after a moment, Joon-gi smiled and looked away. “It is. He seems to have been thinking of the two of us a lot, lately, does he not?”
He considered it. Over the last couple of weeks, he’d received one of those UFO Catcher monkeys that apparently looked a bit like him, several different samples of Shaoxing wine sourced through a business Ichiban Holdings had just acquired, a spectacularly good shark fin bun, and two bags of roasted chestnuts. And the bonsai.
“I take your silence to imply the affirmative,” Joon-gi said with a cocked eyebrow, and sipped his drink.
Feeling more colour rising in his face, Zhao deflected. “Well, what about you?”
“These are not the first flowers I have had of late.” Was that a blush? “He seems to have noticed my fondness for them.” It was definitely a blush. It suited him. “Not to mention some very pleasing hair products. And, after I mentioned my disappointment in my recently diminished athletic prowess, some rather effective kimchi.”
Zhao felt his brow drop into a confused frown. “…Kimchi?” He slid his glasses off to rub his eyes. “What’s kimchi got to do with athletics?”
“Visit the vendor on Sakura Lane if you wish to find out.” In place of embarrassment, a wicked smirk passed over Joon-gi’s face. “In any case, it would appear we have both been somewhat showered with gifts of late.”
“Looks like it.” Zhao stared at his bonsai. He hadn’t given it much thought so far, too giddily pleased with each gesture to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wasn’t sure what to make of not being the only one so honoured.
Joon-gi swirled his glass pensively, and set it down to turn to Zhao. “If I did not know him better, I would think Kasuga-san were trying to court us both.”
Zhao blinked. That Ichiban might be interested in him had crossed his mind, to be honest, even if he hadn’t thought of it quite like that. But the idea that he might be ‘courting’… both of them? Their resident exotic foreign prince, and him? Now it seemed laughable.
After a moment, his brain caught up with Joon-gi’s phrasing. “…But you think you do know him better? So what’s he doing?”
“Ah, you mistake me. I simply mean that he has not realised that that is what he is doing.”
Damn, this guy had the measure of Kasuga. Zhao had to laugh. “Sounds about right.” He gazed absently at the bonsai and reached for his glass. “So. What do we do about it?”
“I rather hoped you might have an opinion on that.” Joon-gi looked sidelong at him, and Zhao had the fleeting thought that perhaps he wasn’t alone in being a little nervous. Then Joon-gi cleared his throat and continued. “I have no wish to step on your toes, of course.”
“You mean you’d back off if I said I wanted him to myself?” Zhao let out a huff of amusement. “Yeah, right.”
Joon-gi shrugged. “You’d prefer us to act in competition, then?”
“I didn’t say that.” Zhao felt his face pinch in thought, and he took a long gulp of his whiskey. “You think we could, what, cooperate?” He tried to process how that might work. “I’m not old-fashioned, man, but open relationships aren’t my style.”
“There are other ways to… cooperate.” Joon-gi’s voice was cool.
Zhao choked on his whiskey. His eyes watered, hiding the room behind a salty haze, and as he coughed he could see the possibilities cycling across his vision.
Three bodies, moving together. Ichiban underneath him, big hands framing his hips, his own hands in thick silver hair, that sharp tongue on him –
Joon-gi slapped him gently on the back, and his coughing subsided. He swiped the tears from his eyes, and the reel of images too.
“Recovered?”
He forced himself to nod.
“Good.” Joon-gi’s composure frustrated him, but as his friend went on, Zhao could hear a less assured note in his voice. “You and I hold each other in fair regard, do we not? Surely it should be possible for us to work together.”
“More likely chucking the three of us in bed together’s the quickest way to wreck that respect.”
Joon-gi’s eyes widened, and Zhao was gratified to see his pupils were blown. “I… I see you are working ahead of me already, Zhao-san.”
Zhao grinned. He’d taken a risk being so blunt, but the idea was growing on him already. He shifted on his stool. “Well, now you’re all caught up. Whaddya reckon?”
“I… am not unamenable.” The detached tone of Joon-gi’s voice was at odds with the fire in his eyes.
“Right.” Zhao knocked back the remnants of his drink and nodded to the bartender for another. “Where do we start?” His eyes drifted to the lilies and the bonsai. “We should get him a gift.”
“But what?” As they moved to safer ground, he could see Joon-gi’s expression relax. His own was probably the same. “He gives to others all the time, but obscures his own needs.” He drummed his fingers on the bar. “He often says he thinks of people when he sees certain things. What makes you think of him?”
“Most things,” Zhao said honestly, throwing embarrassment out the window. The bartender refilled his glass and retreated.
Joon-gi chuckled, and Zhao let himself appreciate the sound. “I understand. How about something for one of his hobbies?”
“He does everything, though.” Zhao stared down into his drink. The way Ichiban threw himself into everything, from gaming to golf to gastronomy, was one of the most winning things about him. “…He did mention an upgrade he wants, for Dragon Kart. I think it’s pretty expensive.”
Joon-gi nodded. “That sounds promising.” He paused a moment. “Is cost a concern here?”
Zhao looked him in the eye. “Not at all.”
---
When the bartender told him to go to the Dragon Kart track, Ichiban was confused. The roll of the eyes that accompanied the instruction didn’t make it less weird.
Still, after three straight hours chasing one stubborn cat, it didn’t sound like a bad idea, so he made his way to Hamakita Park, soaking up the glorious sunshine. The cheerful man in charge at the track seemed even smilier than usual, but maybe he was just having a really good day – with weather like this, it was easy to imagine.
Then he got to his kart. The crunch in the front wing he’d managed on a nasty corner last week was gone, as if someone had been tinkering. And a folded note lay on the seat. Impatiently, he grabbed it and unfolded it.
You’re the most thoughtful man we could wish for. Now let us treat you. xx
He put the note in his pocket, but the words stayed in his head. Had his friends arranged something? But that sounded like… something more. Who would be wishing for him?
The mystery had his pulse picking up even before he started the kart and heard the newly enhanced rev of the engine. As the machine shot off the start, almost leaving his stomach behind with its viciously increased acceleration, excitement settled behind his sternum.
The three laps were over before he knew it, the kart making every corner so perfectly that no one could touch him – or the sleek new front wing. Another circuit, a scuff, a scuffle, second in the final straight – and that mean straight-line speed had him over the line ahead, wind whipping past his ears.
His hair was a wild tangle by the time he had the kart back in its bay, snagging his fingers as he scratched the back of his neck. But it felt like the racing and the cool wind had washed the long, hot day from his skin, and he felt loose-limbed, excited for whatever was ahead, as he strolled out of the building.
Out the front, waiting for him, were Zhao and Joon-gi. Standing very close together.
He broke into a grin. “Hey guys! How’s it going?”
“How were your races?” Zhao shot straight back, smiling.
“…You two?” He looked back and forth between them. “You paid for my upgrade?” When both of them just smiled, he let out a whoop, and swept them into a hug. “You guys are the best!”
He held on for long enough that it was probably awkward, and mumbled an apology as he let go. Belatedly, he remembered the rest of the note, and froze. “So that note was from you two?”
Zhao’s secretive smile, and the gentleness in Joon-gi’s eyes, nearly did for him. Then Zhao kissed him on the cheek, and Joon-gi squeezed his hand, and his brain short-circuited.
“Kasuga-kun?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He blinked rapidly. It was a lot for his brain to catch up with. They were on either side of him now, each gently holding one of his hands. Zhao’s rings were cold, even in summer weather, and Joon-gi’s fingers felt slight in his. “…Where are we going?”
“You Tian,” Joon-gi said, his voice even softer than when they’d spoken alone at the bar those times before. “You’ve been so generous to us both of late, we thought we ought to do something special for you.”
The sun was sinking lower in the sky as they walked to Restaurant Row, and he watched the changing colours in the sky with wonder. The knot of excitement in his chest swelled with every step, with the way Zhao swung their joined hands from time to time, with the sidelong glances and smiles Joon-gi shot his way.
When they entered You Tian, the woman who usually manned the till was gone in moments, and Zhao disappeared into the kitchen. He could hear him humming as he and Joon-gi sat down.
“S-so what’s brought this on?” he asked, clasping his hands together on the tabletop.
“Zhao-san and I were having a drink together when we had occasion to think of all the thoughtful gifts you have given us recently.” Joon-gi placed a hand over his. “And we began to wonder what could have made us deserving of such special treatment.”
Ichiban felt the violent blush he’d so far held back spread up from his neck. “I like to treat my friends.”
“If you treated the others like you do us, you’d be flat broke,” Zhao said as he emerged from the kitchen to put down plates and a steaming pot. “We ain’t blind, Kasuga-kun.”
“Oh.” He stared at the table. “Right.”
“There’s no need for you to feel embarrassed.” He looked up to find Joon-gi frowning slightly in concern.
“Nope.” Zhao began to dish up the food, which smelt fantastic – Ichiban had little spare brainpower to consider it further. “You think we’d be doing this if we had a problem with it?” Now seated on Ichiban’s side of the table, he reached for a pair of chopsticks from the middle of the table, and offered Ichiban a gentle smile. “Now eat. You’ve been running round after everyone else all day again, ain’tcha?”
Even though he could still feel the heat of embarrassment from his neck to the tips of his ears, Ichiban wasn’t one to turn down food. Especially not food made by Zhao. It was something with shrimp, not chilli but some other, more complex flavour, with the bite of a liberal amount of Shaoxing wine. Ah. The samples he’d brought Zhao were probably part of what they were talking about. Oops.
When he’d finished, he set down his chopsticks and sighed. “My compliments to the chef.”
“The chef’s head is large enough as it is,” he heard Joon-gi say, and looked up to see him levelling a teasing smile at Zhao.
“What happened to that ‘fair regard’ you’ve got for me, Joon-gi?” Zhao was grinning, and Ichi couldn’t ignore the little thrill in his gut at seeing them like this with each other.
“Oh, since we’re going to destroy that soon, I thought we might as well make a start.” Joon-gi’s lips had a suggestive curve to them as he looked at Zhao, and then to Ichiban.
“Ichiban?” Zhao said, and he blinked at hearing his given name.
“Yeah?”
Zhao laid a hand on his knee. “Is this cool? Us doing this?”
He gulped. “Yes.”
“Good.” The word came from Joon-gi, across the table, but it was Zhao who leaned in to kiss him, lips soft but movement hungry, biting gently at his lower lip and making him moan. And they were on their feet together, all three of them moving for a door he hadn’t noticed before. Zhao’s hands were grasping his, pulling him along, Joon-gi’s wiry arm around his waist, slipping under his shirt, Joon-gi’s lips teasing at his neck.
Zhao released one of his hands to unlock the door, and there were stairs leading up. And the three of them, locked together in their tangle of limbs, stumbled upwards.