[RP log] Renji, Tezuka - projects, partners, and pie
Set...er, sometime past. Tezuka is going back to school and Renji is determined to help him into bed. They meet, they talk. Tezuka's a little cautious, Renji's a little dorky (under all the smooooooth), and there is a formation of a partnership for a major project.
And pie. Because everything is better with pie.
My summaries suck
Renji Yanagi arrived at precisely 4:26:37 PM EST for his 5PM meeting with Tezuka. Stuffed in his backpack was the digital recorder he'd taken to class earlier and would later transcribe into notes, as he had dedicated almost all of that period towards calculating the exact amounts of time he would need to prepare and thus when he needed to arrive. The notebook that on any other given day would contain pages of neat, painstaking statistical analysis was covered in messy algorithms, endless additions and subtractions of elements (figured to the nearest milisecond), and nervous drawings. In his preparations he had allowed for three trips to the men's room (two to obsessively recheck his teeth and hair, one for actual bodily function--and including the often-necessary three steps to the sink to turn on the water in case he froze up and couldn't pee), the drinking of 1.209375 glasses of water, the careful arranging of the course materials on the cafe table, chewing a piece of Eclipse gum 1649 times for perfectly fresh breath (and the trip to the trash can to throw it away), one game of pinball on his cell phone (current average score 1,585,770), the equivalent of a .375 mile run in nervous fidgeting, and 4.875 minutes of meditation (not the batshit transcendental stuff, but slow breathing and focused visualization). This prediction, however, was dependent upon Tezuka being 5.2938 minutes early; if he was not, the nervous fidgeting percentage was certain to increase.
If Tezuka noticed Renji's nervousness (which threatened to manifest itself in the form of unsightly twitching), he didn't say anything. Truth to be told, Tezuka was slightly worried himself, but not exactly because of Renji. It was more to do with the box he was holding, which contained a medium-sized apple pie he had baked in the morning. He had picked up the recipe when he worked in the bakery in France, but he had never actually let anyone try it before. The container disguised it pretty well as any other store-bought pie though, so if it really tasted bad he could always lie. Tezuka felt a bit bad making Renji his guinea pig, but if he didn't know, then he wasn't really a guinea pig - or so Tezuka told himself.
He checked his watch and wondered if it was slow; he had planned to get to the cafe a bit early, by force of habit. Slipping into the seat opposite Renji, he put his bag on the extra chair and the box of pie on the table. Renji was staring at him; he was definitely late. "I'm sorry, guess my watch is slow..."
Belatedly, Renji realized his gaze was completely fixed on Tezuka: the flush of color on cheeks and the very tip of his nose from the cold weather, the fringed ends of the plaid scarf he wore, the way his hair looked strangely windblown in a way Renji could not remember seeing it before. After four tries, his brain successfully transmitted the messages for his hand to raise in a dismissing wave and his vocal chords to activate. "No problem, man. You're fine. I've just been thumbing through the coursework," and he gestured to his carefully, artfully arranged sprawl of books and papers, "to decide how to maximize everything."
A faint scent of pastry (the cafe specialized in coffee and sandwiches but left desserts to the affiliated bakery next door) tickled Renji's nose and his mind finally processed the box on the table. Pie? He schooled his face to friendly neutral--despite hating the talent, it was born into him. "You hungry?"
"A little." Tezuka replied as he shed his coat and scarf, fingers unconsciously brushing over the spot where Yukimura had drank from no more than half an hour ago. There was no wound to be seen. One couldn't be too careful; the last thing Tezuka wanted was to let Renji notice bite marks on his neck.
He let Renji take care of the pie as he went to fetch some plates and forks. There were some larger, unoccupied tables which would make it easier for them to spread their notes out, and Tezuka wondered briefly why Renji chose the small one. Perhaps it was busy in the cafe when Renji arrived?
Renji found his mind overcrowded: first by thoughts of Tezuka, then by thoughts of pie, then by thoughts of Tezuka and pie, and he quickly summoned many things dry and statistical to push those thoughts back down until they could be acted upon. While he was not shy about being bisexual, ravishing Tezuka with the help of pie could not be good for either of their standing in Columbia.
Tezuka returned quickly with plates and silverware, and in the interim he had removed the pie from the box, discovering it to be apple. The slight sharpness to the scent made him certain they were Granny Smith apples (his favorite) in that pie; he couldn't wait to try it. With a knife, he carefully cut slices of pie and maneuvered them out to the plates. It must be his imagination that the pie still felt just slightly warm in places.
Water had been replaced by coffee, and without bothering for an 'itadakimasu' (his family was not terribly traditional at all) Renji forked about half of the pie into his mouth. "This is really good," he said around his mouthful. Quickly, he chewed and swallowed it, the fork returning for more. "Really good. Where did you get it?"
"A shop near home," the lie came smoothly from Tezuka's lips. He didn't know what kind of a person renji was, but there were plenty of people who considered cooking a very queer thing for a man to do and even though that wasn't true, he'd rather not out himself by mistake, before knowing Renji better. "You think it's good?" He just had to hear Renji say it again, for his own satisfaction.
Sitting down and carefull avoiding tangling his legs with Renji's, Tezuka tried the pie, oblivious to everything that was going through Renji's mind. It was for the best; otherwise he would choke on his first bite. The pie really tasted rather good. Idly he wondered if Yukimura would be able to try it. Perhaps not. He'd have to ask.
"Better than good." Renji had all but inhaled his piece and was reaching for more. The wonders of a youthful metabolism and appetite. "I can distinctly taste the nutmeg and cinnamon, and the apples were slightly underripe, which keeps them more crisp upon baking." This piece he ate a bit more slowly, savoring the flavors and the texture.
"...didn't think you'd take me seriously about the pie, man. Not that I'm complaining," he added, sporting a small bit of pie filling on the end of his nose from his hasty eating.
The sight almost made Tezuka smile, but all he did was pass Renji a bit of tissue. He must write to Lionel in France to tell him about this. "It's just a pie anyway," he said, shrugging as if there was no effort involved.
Putting the pie aside, Tezuka fished out some notes from his bag. It'd be more polite to wait for Renji to finish eating first, but he was eager to get started. "I'm planning on going back some time next week. May be give Professor Rice a call and see what he says, but I'd really like to get back into it and start on the project soon." He looked up at Renji, who was finishing his second slice of pie. "What do you think?"
Renji chuckled at himself, feeling mildly self-conscious but choosing nonetheless to interpret this as a Good Sign. He rubbed the pie off the end of his nose, crumpling the tissue up and laying it next to his plate. "More than just a pie. I'd marry whoever baked it. Or at least make it very worth their while." He grinned and set his fork down, smile fading when Tezuka looked away. Oh, that was stupid, Ren. Now he'll think that you want to bang the baker and not him.
Renji cleared his throat, shifting into tutor mode without losing a beat. "It's a good idea. Catching up on the actuarial theory is easier than he makes it out to be; I've got a couple of books I'll loan you that weren't on the reading list but vastly simplify everything. Statistical analysis is where you're probably going to struggle most, but that's my best area. You've modeled before, right?"
"Theory I'm not too worried about." Being a feeder had its advantages. Learning theory and committing things to memory was never a problem for Tezuka. In fact, even the statistics were never much of an obstacle either, as long as he went over the problems patiently. All he really needed to do was to sit down and find out what had been taught, and then he could learn it by himself, which would only be a little bit slower than learning through attending lectures. But it wouldn't do to tell Renji that. "I have, but I'm out of practice. With math, once you stop you have to double the effort to get started again."
And no, no thoughts about Renji banging the baker. Tezuka shoved that comment right to the back of his mind and ignored it.
Renji blinked and grinned suddenly; he really had to stop getting distracted by Tezuka's lower lip when he talked. No matter how sexy a mouth Tezuka had, that wasn't (completely) why he was here. "I've worked up a couple of preliminary analyses; if you could model these out before...Monday, that should give us time to get together again before you come back and see if there are still areas where you need work." He pulled a notebook out of the chaos and handed it over.
Reading Renji's notes, it wasn't that Tezuka was unaware of himself being looked at. But it wasn't something that unusual, perhaps Renji was trying to see if he was struggling to understand anything. Or so Tezuka told himself, because if anybody was strange, it was him. He had always been convinced of this.
"What do you mean by-" Tezuka started to ask, pointing at one of the equations Renji had scribbled, but his cell began to ring. "Excuse me." He said before getting the phone from his bag.
It was the old lawyer, asking a long string of questions Tezuka would rather not have to answer again: yes he inherited the house when his parents died, yes he was the only legal owner, yes he had signed everything and sent the paperwork back yesterday, yes it was okay to sell. It wasn't that Tezuka wanted to sell the family home, but if someone else wanted the land, it may be the chance to let it go. What was the point of holding on to it anyway?
Renji kept silent during Tezuka's phone call, repeatedly spinning a pen over the top of his thumb and remaining otherwise still in his caculated slouch (upper body inclined against the bench just so and long legs draped beneath the table, close enough to faintly catch a bit of Tezuka's body heat but never to enter the zone between personal space and outright touching. It felt a little dirty, like eavesdropping, just sitting here and listening, but Renji wasn't one to pass up any opportunity for information, on any topic. It answered a number of his questions and raised many others. If Tezuka had no family, where did he live? Where had he been while he was so sick? Who looked after him?
And why, why am I so drawn to you? Who are you, Tezuka-without-a-first-name-I-know?
The back of his mind told Renji his slouch had altered by 2.4987 degrees and he corrected it with a small frown.
The phonecall took much longer than reasonable, with the lawyer continually advising Tezuka to hold on to the property and sell later for a better price. It took Tezuka a lot of time to get across the point that he did not care about the money at all, and he would rather this be over and done with.
Eventually, finally, the lawyer gave up and Tezuka put his phone away, switching it off for good measure. He had just wasted much of Renji's time, and was aware of how much of his life he had just given away. But no matter, as long as it did not concern his life with the clan, he had no secrets to keep.
"Sorry about that." Tezuka pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. Talking with lawyers was always taxing.
With one hand, Renji caught the waitress's attention while Tezuka was still on the phone; he came in here a lot and as such they were accustomed to his pidgin sign language (and good tipping - working for tips himself, he never failed to reward). When Tezuka hung up, she appeared as if by magic, setting down a cup of hot chocolate beside him and another coffee for Renji.
"No problem," Renji said, fingers unconsciously stretching against his leg, wanting to reach out to Tezuka and brush away the tension. He drew his hand back into a fist, tapping it twice on his leg, then brought it up to grab his coffee. "Sorry to intrude and all, into private stuff." Which sounded like he'd been the one asking the questions and not the lawyer, but...hopefully Tezuka knew what he meant. Maybe. Or should he clarify? Which option was the more likely one leading to naked Tezuka down the road?
"...er, and sorry that I complain about my folks. Didn't know about yours." Pause. "You can have mine if you like."
It was only belatedly his brain kindly informed him that he had chosen the stupid response instead of the smooth one.
Tezuka's gaze lifted, passing over the frothy hot chocolate (he had wanted one, but Renji couldn't have read his mind, Renji was not Yukimura...) to settle on Renji. "That's fine. It was a long time ago," he said, taking a sip of his drink and discreetly licking away the foam on his lips. Renji was looking at him in a strange way, but he pretended not to notice. "But thank you for the offer."
What I wouldn't give to be hot chocolate foam... Renji reminded himself to breathe and fiercely began running baseball statistics in his head, starting with A-Rod's on-base percentage and cataloguing the length of each of his 2005 season home runs. "Still...sorry." Renji trailed off for a moment, shuffling papers until he found the project outline he had prepared.
"If we're going to collaborate, I need to know your strengths and weaknesses on the material. This is tentative, but how would this fit with your assessment of the project?"
Setting down the mug, Tezuka studied the neat writing that was Renji's notes on the topics they were given to choose from, and the outline he had prepared, carefully broken down into smaller headings, and then sub-headings, each for them with additional notes.
Without a word, Tezuka pulled out a folder from his bag and extracts a piece of paper, putting it in front of Renji. It was his own notes for the project and even though the layout was different, the details were the same in essence.
Harmony! Synchronicity! Unison! Renji had the strongest urge to leap up on top of the table and break into song. Only the thought of how deeply it would please his parents that he was artistically expressing himself rather than hiding in boring numbers kept him still; nevertheless, under the table his foot tapped in a cheery melody, and the grin on his face was wide.
"This," he pointed to Tezuka's notes, "tells me we're perfect partners for the project." And, maybe, even for a few other things? he added silently. "I am so glad you're coming back. I was paranoid that I'd get stuck with Jurski again." Jurski was probably the nicest person in their section, but lazy and a consistent underachiever.
"So..." Renji continued, trying to sound wholly casual, "when do we want to schedule our meetings to work on this? I've got my job to work around, so the more concrete I can get my school schedule the better. Do you have a job to consider, Tezuka?"
Renji's enthusiasm was contagious. Tezuka nearly smiled - he was glad to go back, too. And they did seem to be thinking on the same wavelength.
"I don't have a job, so I'm flexible in bed on this. Whichever times and locations that suit you best. Last time you mentioned we could work in the bar before your shift begins?"
Renji nodded; the owner of the bar didn't have a problem with him studying there, either alone or accompanied, before shift. "In the afternoons it's pretty quiet, business doesn't pick up until about 9. It's rare I'm on shift before eight, anyways. Do you know where it is? It's in Greenwich."
He reached up and scratched his forehead, attention drawn back towards the box on the table. "Would you pass the pie? It's really good." Grinning, he licked off his fork, more than ready for round two.
"I know." and if Tezuka did not, he could get a driver to take him there. "I will meet you there tomorrow - if tomorrow is okay with you."
Passing the pie over, Tezuka tried to not look too please with himself as Renji gobbled up another slice. "You like it." The words were out before he even realised and he blinked in surprise. When was the last time this had happened? Had this ever happened before?
"Tomorrow, is great." He was grinning like a loon and didn't particularly care. Tezuka No-First-Name was going to be In. His. Bar. Tomorrow. "Have you been in before? No, I would have noticed," Renji corrected himself, and it was true; something about Tezuka seemed to make his skin tingle whenever they were in the same room. Lust? Yeah, there was plenty of that. But this was something different, almost otherworldly. Clearly, I've been skimming a few too many of my parents new-age crap magazines, to start thinking about auras and bullshit like that.
He looked up from his pie at Tezuka, and then began imagining pie on Tezuka, nearly choking as he tried to swallow. "Better than like. I love it. You've got to tell me where you got this." The apples were perfectly done, not mushy and still just a little crisp, the crust was flaky and buttery, and the filling was both tart and sweet. "I've had apple pie in a lot of places, but this is by far the best ever." Renji wiggled his fingers. "It makes me tingle." ....sort of like how it does when I see you....
If Yukimura was paying attention, he would be able to feel the changes within his feeder; Tezuka was just glad he was generally-speaking a well-composed person, otherwise he would have gotten up and walked out. This was too embarassing.
"I'll bring more next time." He said, ignoring (subtly or not, he could not tell) the remark that he had to disclose where the pie came from and instead studied the pages of Renji's note book, trying to look like he would rather continue with the study.
Renji grinned, not sure if he was going to get an answer but quite pleased nonetheless. Pie. On Tezuka. His brain seemed quite happy to continue to run with that imagery.
"Do you have a particular statistical software that you'd rather run the modeling out of? I'm a bit of a computer geek, so at last count I was running the four major ones. Just need to make sure our data will be compatible." Mental pie took a back seat as their conversation swerved back on topic, the next half hour a series of lively discussions, brainstormings, and note-takings.
It was dark outside when they called it a day, each of them with a good amount of statistical modelling to work on for the night before tomorrow's meet-up.
Tezuka held the door open for Renji as they left the cafe, before wrapping his scarf around his neck. It was cold; working with Renji was interesting, but Tezuka was looking forward to going back to the cozy clan house - perhaps he could find Yukimura and see if the vampire wanted another drink. He had been bled just before coming to the cafe, but somehow he wanted to do it again. There was a strange tingling under Tezuka's skin which he could not explain otherwise.
"Thank you for your help." Tezuka said politely, "I will see you tomorrow, then."
"Hey, it was great." Renji checked his watch and then stuck his hands in his pockets; he should just be able to make it over to the bar for his shift. "Thanks for the pie." And all the naughty thoughts to go with it, he added to himself. "I think we're going to not only do well on this but probably best in the class." He nodded at Tezuka in the universal guy goodbye, taking a couple of steps towards his motorcycle and then pausing.
"Say, do you need a lift home?" he asked over one shoulder.
It was very nice for Renji to offer, but he would not have any idea how a lift home could cause many complications. "I... no, thank you." For the moment Tezuka still had no place he could call home apart from the clan house, which he would prefer to have no one from his human life knowing about. "You will be late." He checked the time too. Hmm. Good excuse.
"See you tomorrow." Tezuka said again, this time not waiting for Renji's reactions before turning, crossing the street straight away. Having a separate home for his human life suddenly seemed important, now that he had Renji's friendship. He had better go back and arrange it. And maybe get ingredients to make some food for tomorrow's meeting, too...
Grinning at Tezuka's retreating form, Renji unlocked his helmet from the motorcycle, sticking the key in and starting it up. Yes, oh yes, he had many wonderful things to think about while he was working. And there was basketball on tonight. The Knicks sucked but the Nets were playing respectably. Tips were always higher and alcohol flowing freer during games. He pulled the helmet on, tugged his riding gloves over his hands, and pulled out into the street, turning north towards Greenwich. Extra tip money meant he just might find a way to ask Tezuka No-First-Name on a date, and not just a study date.
And pie. Because everything is better with pie.
My summaries suck
Renji Yanagi arrived at precisely 4:26:37 PM EST for his 5PM meeting with Tezuka. Stuffed in his backpack was the digital recorder he'd taken to class earlier and would later transcribe into notes, as he had dedicated almost all of that period towards calculating the exact amounts of time he would need to prepare and thus when he needed to arrive. The notebook that on any other given day would contain pages of neat, painstaking statistical analysis was covered in messy algorithms, endless additions and subtractions of elements (figured to the nearest milisecond), and nervous drawings. In his preparations he had allowed for three trips to the men's room (two to obsessively recheck his teeth and hair, one for actual bodily function--and including the often-necessary three steps to the sink to turn on the water in case he froze up and couldn't pee), the drinking of 1.209375 glasses of water, the careful arranging of the course materials on the cafe table, chewing a piece of Eclipse gum 1649 times for perfectly fresh breath (and the trip to the trash can to throw it away), one game of pinball on his cell phone (current average score 1,585,770), the equivalent of a .375 mile run in nervous fidgeting, and 4.875 minutes of meditation (not the batshit transcendental stuff, but slow breathing and focused visualization). This prediction, however, was dependent upon Tezuka being 5.2938 minutes early; if he was not, the nervous fidgeting percentage was certain to increase.
If Tezuka noticed Renji's nervousness (which threatened to manifest itself in the form of unsightly twitching), he didn't say anything. Truth to be told, Tezuka was slightly worried himself, but not exactly because of Renji. It was more to do with the box he was holding, which contained a medium-sized apple pie he had baked in the morning. He had picked up the recipe when he worked in the bakery in France, but he had never actually let anyone try it before. The container disguised it pretty well as any other store-bought pie though, so if it really tasted bad he could always lie. Tezuka felt a bit bad making Renji his guinea pig, but if he didn't know, then he wasn't really a guinea pig - or so Tezuka told himself.
He checked his watch and wondered if it was slow; he had planned to get to the cafe a bit early, by force of habit. Slipping into the seat opposite Renji, he put his bag on the extra chair and the box of pie on the table. Renji was staring at him; he was definitely late. "I'm sorry, guess my watch is slow..."
Belatedly, Renji realized his gaze was completely fixed on Tezuka: the flush of color on cheeks and the very tip of his nose from the cold weather, the fringed ends of the plaid scarf he wore, the way his hair looked strangely windblown in a way Renji could not remember seeing it before. After four tries, his brain successfully transmitted the messages for his hand to raise in a dismissing wave and his vocal chords to activate. "No problem, man. You're fine. I've just been thumbing through the coursework," and he gestured to his carefully, artfully arranged sprawl of books and papers, "to decide how to maximize everything."
A faint scent of pastry (the cafe specialized in coffee and sandwiches but left desserts to the affiliated bakery next door) tickled Renji's nose and his mind finally processed the box on the table. Pie? He schooled his face to friendly neutral--despite hating the talent, it was born into him. "You hungry?"
"A little." Tezuka replied as he shed his coat and scarf, fingers unconsciously brushing over the spot where Yukimura had drank from no more than half an hour ago. There was no wound to be seen. One couldn't be too careful; the last thing Tezuka wanted was to let Renji notice bite marks on his neck.
He let Renji take care of the pie as he went to fetch some plates and forks. There were some larger, unoccupied tables which would make it easier for them to spread their notes out, and Tezuka wondered briefly why Renji chose the small one. Perhaps it was busy in the cafe when Renji arrived?
Renji found his mind overcrowded: first by thoughts of Tezuka, then by thoughts of pie, then by thoughts of Tezuka and pie, and he quickly summoned many things dry and statistical to push those thoughts back down until they could be acted upon. While he was not shy about being bisexual, ravishing Tezuka with the help of pie could not be good for either of their standing in Columbia.
Tezuka returned quickly with plates and silverware, and in the interim he had removed the pie from the box, discovering it to be apple. The slight sharpness to the scent made him certain they were Granny Smith apples (his favorite) in that pie; he couldn't wait to try it. With a knife, he carefully cut slices of pie and maneuvered them out to the plates. It must be his imagination that the pie still felt just slightly warm in places.
Water had been replaced by coffee, and without bothering for an 'itadakimasu' (his family was not terribly traditional at all) Renji forked about half of the pie into his mouth. "This is really good," he said around his mouthful. Quickly, he chewed and swallowed it, the fork returning for more. "Really good. Where did you get it?"
"A shop near home," the lie came smoothly from Tezuka's lips. He didn't know what kind of a person renji was, but there were plenty of people who considered cooking a very queer thing for a man to do and even though that wasn't true, he'd rather not out himself by mistake, before knowing Renji better. "You think it's good?" He just had to hear Renji say it again, for his own satisfaction.
Sitting down and carefull avoiding tangling his legs with Renji's, Tezuka tried the pie, oblivious to everything that was going through Renji's mind. It was for the best; otherwise he would choke on his first bite. The pie really tasted rather good. Idly he wondered if Yukimura would be able to try it. Perhaps not. He'd have to ask.
"Better than good." Renji had all but inhaled his piece and was reaching for more. The wonders of a youthful metabolism and appetite. "I can distinctly taste the nutmeg and cinnamon, and the apples were slightly underripe, which keeps them more crisp upon baking." This piece he ate a bit more slowly, savoring the flavors and the texture.
"...didn't think you'd take me seriously about the pie, man. Not that I'm complaining," he added, sporting a small bit of pie filling on the end of his nose from his hasty eating.
The sight almost made Tezuka smile, but all he did was pass Renji a bit of tissue. He must write to Lionel in France to tell him about this. "It's just a pie anyway," he said, shrugging as if there was no effort involved.
Putting the pie aside, Tezuka fished out some notes from his bag. It'd be more polite to wait for Renji to finish eating first, but he was eager to get started. "I'm planning on going back some time next week. May be give Professor Rice a call and see what he says, but I'd really like to get back into it and start on the project soon." He looked up at Renji, who was finishing his second slice of pie. "What do you think?"
Renji chuckled at himself, feeling mildly self-conscious but choosing nonetheless to interpret this as a Good Sign. He rubbed the pie off the end of his nose, crumpling the tissue up and laying it next to his plate. "More than just a pie. I'd marry whoever baked it. Or at least make it very worth their while." He grinned and set his fork down, smile fading when Tezuka looked away. Oh, that was stupid, Ren. Now he'll think that you want to bang the baker and not him.
Renji cleared his throat, shifting into tutor mode without losing a beat. "It's a good idea. Catching up on the actuarial theory is easier than he makes it out to be; I've got a couple of books I'll loan you that weren't on the reading list but vastly simplify everything. Statistical analysis is where you're probably going to struggle most, but that's my best area. You've modeled before, right?"
"Theory I'm not too worried about." Being a feeder had its advantages. Learning theory and committing things to memory was never a problem for Tezuka. In fact, even the statistics were never much of an obstacle either, as long as he went over the problems patiently. All he really needed to do was to sit down and find out what had been taught, and then he could learn it by himself, which would only be a little bit slower than learning through attending lectures. But it wouldn't do to tell Renji that. "I have, but I'm out of practice. With math, once you stop you have to double the effort to get started again."
And no, no thoughts about Renji banging the baker. Tezuka shoved that comment right to the back of his mind and ignored it.
Renji blinked and grinned suddenly; he really had to stop getting distracted by Tezuka's lower lip when he talked. No matter how sexy a mouth Tezuka had, that wasn't (completely) why he was here. "I've worked up a couple of preliminary analyses; if you could model these out before...Monday, that should give us time to get together again before you come back and see if there are still areas where you need work." He pulled a notebook out of the chaos and handed it over.
Reading Renji's notes, it wasn't that Tezuka was unaware of himself being looked at. But it wasn't something that unusual, perhaps Renji was trying to see if he was struggling to understand anything. Or so Tezuka told himself, because if anybody was strange, it was him. He had always been convinced of this.
"What do you mean by-" Tezuka started to ask, pointing at one of the equations Renji had scribbled, but his cell began to ring. "Excuse me." He said before getting the phone from his bag.
It was the old lawyer, asking a long string of questions Tezuka would rather not have to answer again: yes he inherited the house when his parents died, yes he was the only legal owner, yes he had signed everything and sent the paperwork back yesterday, yes it was okay to sell. It wasn't that Tezuka wanted to sell the family home, but if someone else wanted the land, it may be the chance to let it go. What was the point of holding on to it anyway?
Renji kept silent during Tezuka's phone call, repeatedly spinning a pen over the top of his thumb and remaining otherwise still in his caculated slouch (upper body inclined against the bench just so and long legs draped beneath the table, close enough to faintly catch a bit of Tezuka's body heat but never to enter the zone between personal space and outright touching. It felt a little dirty, like eavesdropping, just sitting here and listening, but Renji wasn't one to pass up any opportunity for information, on any topic. It answered a number of his questions and raised many others. If Tezuka had no family, where did he live? Where had he been while he was so sick? Who looked after him?
And why, why am I so drawn to you? Who are you, Tezuka-without-a-first-name-I-know?
The back of his mind told Renji his slouch had altered by 2.4987 degrees and he corrected it with a small frown.
The phonecall took much longer than reasonable, with the lawyer continually advising Tezuka to hold on to the property and sell later for a better price. It took Tezuka a lot of time to get across the point that he did not care about the money at all, and he would rather this be over and done with.
Eventually, finally, the lawyer gave up and Tezuka put his phone away, switching it off for good measure. He had just wasted much of Renji's time, and was aware of how much of his life he had just given away. But no matter, as long as it did not concern his life with the clan, he had no secrets to keep.
"Sorry about that." Tezuka pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. Talking with lawyers was always taxing.
With one hand, Renji caught the waitress's attention while Tezuka was still on the phone; he came in here a lot and as such they were accustomed to his pidgin sign language (and good tipping - working for tips himself, he never failed to reward). When Tezuka hung up, she appeared as if by magic, setting down a cup of hot chocolate beside him and another coffee for Renji.
"No problem," Renji said, fingers unconsciously stretching against his leg, wanting to reach out to Tezuka and brush away the tension. He drew his hand back into a fist, tapping it twice on his leg, then brought it up to grab his coffee. "Sorry to intrude and all, into private stuff." Which sounded like he'd been the one asking the questions and not the lawyer, but...hopefully Tezuka knew what he meant. Maybe. Or should he clarify? Which option was the more likely one leading to naked Tezuka down the road?
"...er, and sorry that I complain about my folks. Didn't know about yours." Pause. "You can have mine if you like."
It was only belatedly his brain kindly informed him that he had chosen the stupid response instead of the smooth one.
Tezuka's gaze lifted, passing over the frothy hot chocolate (he had wanted one, but Renji couldn't have read his mind, Renji was not Yukimura...) to settle on Renji. "That's fine. It was a long time ago," he said, taking a sip of his drink and discreetly licking away the foam on his lips. Renji was looking at him in a strange way, but he pretended not to notice. "But thank you for the offer."
What I wouldn't give to be hot chocolate foam... Renji reminded himself to breathe and fiercely began running baseball statistics in his head, starting with A-Rod's on-base percentage and cataloguing the length of each of his 2005 season home runs. "Still...sorry." Renji trailed off for a moment, shuffling papers until he found the project outline he had prepared.
"If we're going to collaborate, I need to know your strengths and weaknesses on the material. This is tentative, but how would this fit with your assessment of the project?"
Setting down the mug, Tezuka studied the neat writing that was Renji's notes on the topics they were given to choose from, and the outline he had prepared, carefully broken down into smaller headings, and then sub-headings, each for them with additional notes.
Without a word, Tezuka pulled out a folder from his bag and extracts a piece of paper, putting it in front of Renji. It was his own notes for the project and even though the layout was different, the details were the same in essence.
Harmony! Synchronicity! Unison! Renji had the strongest urge to leap up on top of the table and break into song. Only the thought of how deeply it would please his parents that he was artistically expressing himself rather than hiding in boring numbers kept him still; nevertheless, under the table his foot tapped in a cheery melody, and the grin on his face was wide.
"This," he pointed to Tezuka's notes, "tells me we're perfect partners for the project." And, maybe, even for a few other things? he added silently. "I am so glad you're coming back. I was paranoid that I'd get stuck with Jurski again." Jurski was probably the nicest person in their section, but lazy and a consistent underachiever.
"So..." Renji continued, trying to sound wholly casual, "when do we want to schedule our meetings to work on this? I've got my job to work around, so the more concrete I can get my school schedule the better. Do you have a job to consider, Tezuka?"
Renji's enthusiasm was contagious. Tezuka nearly smiled - he was glad to go back, too. And they did seem to be thinking on the same wavelength.
"I don't have a job, so I'm flexible in bed on this. Whichever times and locations that suit you best. Last time you mentioned we could work in the bar before your shift begins?"
Renji nodded; the owner of the bar didn't have a problem with him studying there, either alone or accompanied, before shift. "In the afternoons it's pretty quiet, business doesn't pick up until about 9. It's rare I'm on shift before eight, anyways. Do you know where it is? It's in Greenwich."
He reached up and scratched his forehead, attention drawn back towards the box on the table. "Would you pass the pie? It's really good." Grinning, he licked off his fork, more than ready for round two.
"I know." and if Tezuka did not, he could get a driver to take him there. "I will meet you there tomorrow - if tomorrow is okay with you."
Passing the pie over, Tezuka tried to not look too please with himself as Renji gobbled up another slice. "You like it." The words were out before he even realised and he blinked in surprise. When was the last time this had happened? Had this ever happened before?
"Tomorrow, is great." He was grinning like a loon and didn't particularly care. Tezuka No-First-Name was going to be In. His. Bar. Tomorrow. "Have you been in before? No, I would have noticed," Renji corrected himself, and it was true; something about Tezuka seemed to make his skin tingle whenever they were in the same room. Lust? Yeah, there was plenty of that. But this was something different, almost otherworldly. Clearly, I've been skimming a few too many of my parents new-age crap magazines, to start thinking about auras and bullshit like that.
He looked up from his pie at Tezuka, and then began imagining pie on Tezuka, nearly choking as he tried to swallow. "Better than like. I love it. You've got to tell me where you got this." The apples were perfectly done, not mushy and still just a little crisp, the crust was flaky and buttery, and the filling was both tart and sweet. "I've had apple pie in a lot of places, but this is by far the best ever." Renji wiggled his fingers. "It makes me tingle." ....sort of like how it does when I see you....
If Yukimura was paying attention, he would be able to feel the changes within his feeder; Tezuka was just glad he was generally-speaking a well-composed person, otherwise he would have gotten up and walked out. This was too embarassing.
"I'll bring more next time." He said, ignoring (subtly or not, he could not tell) the remark that he had to disclose where the pie came from and instead studied the pages of Renji's note book, trying to look like he would rather continue with the study.
Renji grinned, not sure if he was going to get an answer but quite pleased nonetheless. Pie. On Tezuka. His brain seemed quite happy to continue to run with that imagery.
"Do you have a particular statistical software that you'd rather run the modeling out of? I'm a bit of a computer geek, so at last count I was running the four major ones. Just need to make sure our data will be compatible." Mental pie took a back seat as their conversation swerved back on topic, the next half hour a series of lively discussions, brainstormings, and note-takings.
It was dark outside when they called it a day, each of them with a good amount of statistical modelling to work on for the night before tomorrow's meet-up.
Tezuka held the door open for Renji as they left the cafe, before wrapping his scarf around his neck. It was cold; working with Renji was interesting, but Tezuka was looking forward to going back to the cozy clan house - perhaps he could find Yukimura and see if the vampire wanted another drink. He had been bled just before coming to the cafe, but somehow he wanted to do it again. There was a strange tingling under Tezuka's skin which he could not explain otherwise.
"Thank you for your help." Tezuka said politely, "I will see you tomorrow, then."
"Hey, it was great." Renji checked his watch and then stuck his hands in his pockets; he should just be able to make it over to the bar for his shift. "Thanks for the pie." And all the naughty thoughts to go with it, he added to himself. "I think we're going to not only do well on this but probably best in the class." He nodded at Tezuka in the universal guy goodbye, taking a couple of steps towards his motorcycle and then pausing.
"Say, do you need a lift home?" he asked over one shoulder.
It was very nice for Renji to offer, but he would not have any idea how a lift home could cause many complications. "I... no, thank you." For the moment Tezuka still had no place he could call home apart from the clan house, which he would prefer to have no one from his human life knowing about. "You will be late." He checked the time too. Hmm. Good excuse.
"See you tomorrow." Tezuka said again, this time not waiting for Renji's reactions before turning, crossing the street straight away. Having a separate home for his human life suddenly seemed important, now that he had Renji's friendship. He had better go back and arrange it. And maybe get ingredients to make some food for tomorrow's meeting, too...
Grinning at Tezuka's retreating form, Renji unlocked his helmet from the motorcycle, sticking the key in and starting it up. Yes, oh yes, he had many wonderful things to think about while he was working. And there was basketball on tonight. The Knicks sucked but the Nets were playing respectably. Tips were always higher and alcohol flowing freer during games. He pulled the helmet on, tugged his riding gloves over his hands, and pulled out into the street, turning north towards Greenwich. Extra tip money meant he just might find a way to ask Tezuka No-First-Name on a date, and not just a study date.