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Holy shit. Isagi can't believe his eyes.
He didn't believe his coworker yesterday either but now that he's here in front of the glass display, staring at the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in years since moving for work, call Isagi a believer the way he has accepted and embraced the truth that there is really a cafe in this area that makes and serves the best Japanese desert: kintsuba (not at all a biased take!). That one-hour commute was worth it.
About to move to fall in line, Isagi stops in his tracks when he hears a familiar, unwelcomed voice.
"Yoichi? Is that you?"
Oh hell no.
Isagi could rival a high school science fair robot project with the comical way his muscles and joints move jerkily to (unwillingly) face the source of the voice. Dread fills him the moment he sees his clingy, annoying ex-boyfriend, who he has long broken up with, a year ago—which is like ample time for one to move on, right? Well, Isagi has. But not his ex, it seems, who was still trying to contact Isagi sporadically. Blocking him on all social media and messaging applications wasn't enough, though Isagi doesn't have the heart to cuss him out virtually, unlike what his friends initially suggested he should do.
It doesn’t help that this is his ex's hometown either. Shit, maybe Isagi forgot. Or maybe he didn’t, just too focused on getting to his kintsuba. With him, it’s hard to tell anymore.
Regardless, it's like he's an annoying weed, popping up anywhere. It makes Isagi's skin crawl every time he acts purposefully obtuse too, as if not getting the big, glowing sign of I Don't Want To Do Anything With You! like now, for example.
Is that one-hour commute really worth it? Stop. Think about the kintsuba!
Should he just file for a restraining order at this point? Isagi regrets agreeing to dating him in the first place. In Isagi's defense, it was a lapse of judgment in the past, clouded by a slightly bad time in his life.
"Hey, um," Isagi says, fake smile turning into a grimace.
"Fancy seeing you here," the nuisance says, acting like a male peacock with its feathers out, "Wanna get coffee with me? It'll be just like the old times. I already have a table reserved there at the corner."
Absolutely not!
Knowing how pushy his ex can get and with only one way of exit, quite far away with the size of the establishment and with the many people crowding inside the cafe, Isagi scrambles for something, anything, that can save him from this predicament.
"Ah, I can't actually. I'm here with uh—" Isagi makes a split-second, genius decision to grab the arm of a man nearest to his side, who, in his peripheral vision earlier, was just another customer previously contemplating what to buy from the glass display of desserts.
I'm so sorry, random stranger! You can pick your food later, but I gotta put me first!
"—my boyfriend. Yeah, we were getting something to eat," Isagi grins and wills it hard to not look fake this time. He feels the man whose arm he grabbed stiffen, almost imperceptibly, but then relaxes. Isagi is relieved that the stranger doesn't push him away or cause a scene, and he takes it as implicit permission that the man was alright with being a… human prop to make Isagi's lie more compelling.
The ex's features widen into shock, eyes quickly glancing back and forth between Isagi and the newly-introduced (fake) boyfriend. Shock gives way to disbelief before morphing into reluctance.
That's right. Get discouraged already.
"R-really, Yoichi? I—I didn't know you already have someone. This is…?" Isagi's ex recovers, his face now in an uncomfortable smile. Unfortunately, it looks like he isn't disheartened with the reveal. Which means Isagi would need to push a little further to make their act more believable so he can be left alone.
Isagi opens his mouth, about to give a fake name for the sake of the poor man he roped in his lie, when the said man beside him shifts. Turning fully to face the ex alongside Isagi, he answers the question before Isagi himself could.
"Vivian Hugo. What business do you have with my Yoichi?"
It took everything in Isagi to not gape at the smooth, velvety voice that cut through the awkward atmosphere, effectively rendering the ex and Isagi himself speechless. Color Isagi impressed, with how quick this Vivian Hugo got the context clues and seamlessly integrated himself into the conversation and the fabrication Isagi was currently weaving. He even did a good job of using Isagi's name, which he probably got from the ex's big mouth.
"W-w-well, I was—um—just asking i-if Yoichi would like to—"
"He would not like to." Isagi inwardly cheers as Hugo takes the reins in figuratively beating his ex's importunate ass. Suddenly, he feels a hand snake behind his waist which then comes to a rest at his hip, the grip warm and possessive. Then, a face lightly nuzzles his head. What the hell? This Hugo is really going all out, acting even better than Isagi's attempts at lying.
He feels his heart speed up, but not from anxiety this time.
"You should've said something before, mon chéri. You startled me," Hugo mutters, just loud enough so that his ex can still hear. Isagi feels goosebumps break along his arms. Was that French just now? Holy shit, he really hit the jackpot with his unplanned accomplice.
Is Hugo actually an actor? A con artist? A scammer? Whatever he is, Isagi is very grateful for his assistance. Upping his game to match Hugo's level, Isagi throws on his sweetest smile and leans his body and head convincingly towards Hugo. He reaches a hand out and places it on the other's broad chest, definitely not feeling the muscles there. (This is life and death for him, he doesn't have time to grope people.)
"I'm sorry, Vivian, I was surprised when I saw him here too," Isagi coos, eyes thinning into mocking crescents at his ex, whose growing constipated expression at their display fuels Isagi's glee further.
"As you can see, I'm quite busy and occupied right now. I don't have time for you just like the old days anymore. Surely you understand, right?" Isagi drives the point home, throwing his ex's words right back at him.
The ex just grits his teeth in thinly-veiled anger, "R-right. Well then, excuse me."
He turns stiffly and stomps away to the counter which creates a bigger problem for Isagi, much to his chagrin. On the bright side, the ex has clearly been thwarted (hopefully forever). On the other hand, he was still going to stay here where Isagi's only source of kintsuba was.
Isagi's dilemma is now this: should he just take his beloved desert to go and eat it back at his apartment? But that would take another hour of commute. After all, he just traveled here to see and buy the kintsuba. Or should he take the chance to eat here but endure being glowered the whole time? He gets his answer from the movement of the man currently at his side. Hugo detaches himself from Isagi (and for a moment, Isagi mourns the loss of warmth before catching himself). Then, contrary to Isagi's assumption that their little act is coming to an end, Hugo does the opposite and instead, takes Isagi's hand into an interlocked grip, their fingers fitting together snug against each other.
Huh?
Isagi looks down at their linked hands, and then up at Hugo which was the worst (best) thing he did, as he only got the chance to now: meaning he wasn't prepared to see the face that's been by his side all this time. Goddamn. If Isagi thought Hugo's speaking voice earlier was already pleasant to the ears, then his visage was, for lack of a better word, delectable to the eyes. He can't believe this was the face alongside him earlier confronting his ex: shaggy two-toned hairstyle, with a fringe artly falling on his forehead, diamond-shaped face, dark eyes framed by long eyelashes—just an overall face structure that screams elegance and regality. That face, his height, and his build, along with stellar acting skills? No wonder his ex looked so intimidated, Isagi would be too, if he were in the other's shoes.
The intense ink-black gaze of Hugo momentarily pins Isagi in place, as if trying to say something without speaking out loud. He grips Hugo's hand tight in response, understanding the message.
He's still here and watching. Do you want to be found out soon?
This the answer to Isagi's dilemma. When Isagi goes home to Japan for the holidays soon, he would be sure to visit a hundred shrines to express his gratitude to the gods for watching over him overseas and giving him Vivian Hugo.
"Have you decided on something? Let me pay for yours," Isagi leans close and murmurs, which he hopes, to the outside observer, would look like a pair of lovers affectionately whispering sweet nothings to each other.
"If you insist," Hugo hums, and slowly leads Isagi by their joined hands towards the counter to order. Fortunately, it seems like the ex has finished a while ago and is now on his own corner, not-so-subtly glaring at Isagi and Hugo. Scowling gremlin at the corner aside, everything goes smoothly with their orders and soon, they are seated face-to-face at the booth on the other side of the cafe (thankfully away from the ex).
Isagi glances at the tent card on the middle of the long table with the capitalized English words of 'RESERVED'.
"Are you sure we're meant to be here…?" He asks Hugo, a little bit worried if they're supposed to be sitting where there is obviously a sign that's not for them.
"Yes, I made this reservation," is all Hugo says before cutting into his Éclairs, which Isagi takes as an assurance. He follows, digging into his kintsuba, and finally tastes the closest thing to home at the moment.
A comfortable silence blankets their little bubble, with only the clinking of utensils and ceramic mugs on saucers occasionally heard from both of them. Isagi had expected to be asked questions, especially about the elephant in the room: this whole unintentional-boyfriend-for-hire thing they got going on, but so far there's none. Would Hugo not like to know the story…? Should Isagi offer to start the conversation now? Honestly, Hugo looks like he's just content to be eating his Éclairs, just as Isagi's as happy to be eating his own kintsuba. Presumably, they went to this cafe to eat after all and not—not to do whatever this Isagi has dragged him into. He decides he owes Hugo an explanation, if only to accompany his gratitude. (Food tastes better with gossip after all, doesn't it?) He's about to put his utensil down and call for Hugo's attention when they're suddenly interrupted.
"Vi-viaaaan!"
Isagi startles, almost dropping his fork at the sudden shock of energy bounding beside their table.
"We were calling you! Why weren't you answeri—who's this?" The newcomer, a blond and bubbly young man addresses Hugo in rapid-fire French, then looks questioningly at Isagi.
Isagi collects himself for a few seconds before he puts his fork down and smiles at the blond. He might not be that fluent in speaking French, but he inwardly pats himself on the back for being able to partly understand what this new stranger has said.
"Hello, I'm—"
"This is Yoichi, my boyfriend."
Two pairs of eyes snap at Hugo. What is he saying? Isagi's mind screams. Is this a new help-me-get-out-of-this-be-my-boyfriend pinch situation? Though Hugo doesn't look like he's itching to drive this blond man away, nor does the blond look like a pestering, obsessive ex. If anything, Hugo looks like he's entertained at this new development.
"We left you alone for a few seconds and you got yourself a boyfriend?" The blond young man switches into English and lets out a definitive huh before nodding to himself, as if easily accepting it. No skepticism in sight.
This one needs to work on his discernment more, Isagi winces in genuine concern.
"Well, congratulations! Julian and the rest are coming after they finish some calls outside, by the way. Gotta choose my treat now!" He dashes away with a cheerful bye!, leaving Isagi to stare at his retreating form—and back to Hugo.
"What was that?"
"Hm? That's Charles," Hugo says, like it's a matter-of-fact.
"No—I mean, why did you tell him we're boyfriends?"
"Are we not?"
"W-well—we are—we were? A while ago. For an act," Isagi frowns, not quite getting what Hugo's point is in extending this lie outside of its primary need.
"Wouldn't you like to continue?"
"…Acting?" Isagi queries, confusion still written on his face. He doesn't get a response out of Hugo this time, the other only staring at him expectantly, as if he's waiting for Isagi to get something. Get what?
He sure isn't getting it now. Isagi rattles his brain hard, searching for what he might be missing here. Why is Hugo getting all cryptic so suddenly? More than that, unease starts to bubble in Isagi's stomach at the idea of continuing this… performance.
"I'm not…" sure? confident? into it anymore? following what you're trying to say?
Hugo must've sensed his hesitance because he leans forward, an arm on the table and says, "Then let's stop this facade."
Earlier, Isagi had a passing thought that he would feel relieved once this fabrication would end. Somehow, something changed along the way, and all he feels right now is hollowness.
"Oh." Isagi stiffens and averts his eyes downwards, "Um, right. Okay."
Why does it somehow feel not okay when Hugo ended it? Did Isagi actually enjoy playing boyfriends with him or something?
He looks up again when he hears Hugo huff in what sounds like amusement.
"What?" Isagi asks, slightly offended at the thought of being laughed at this very moment.
"You were so quick on your feet earlier to think of something, now you're being slow?"
"Huh?"
"I'm saying let's stop pretending," Hugo places his hand on top of Isagi's and tilts his head coyly, dark eyes gleaming in the light, "and make this real."
The heat from Hugo's hand seems to travel up Isagi's arm, to his neck, and his face, settling warmly in his cheeks. Isagi wants to look away from the pull of Hugo's gaze, but finds he can't.
"What do you say, Yoichi?"