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26 January 2008 @ 01:10 am
Cole and Rumi: Dinner at the Tatsuya's  
Who: Cole Porter and Rumi Tatsuya
Where: Rumi's parents, Rumi's
When: A while ago... Early January.

Rumi is chewing on his thumb as his driver pulls up outside the Blue Rhino. This is a little ridiculous. His father probably won't be very pleased. It's enough that his son is always in the tabloids, photographed with boys who the tabloids swear are his lovers. Bringing one of these supposed lovers to a formal dinner party isn't going to go over well. The tabloids had gotten full coverage of his shopping outing with Cole, had speculated as to who Cole is and what their relationship is. He wonders if Cole had seen them, if he minds it. He's wearing the suit Cole picked out for him, though he's curled up with his feet on the back of the seat in front of him anyway, as informal as ever. His hair is messy, and he's wearing his glasses tonight. He tries not to stare out the window when they pull up, as his driver gets out of the car to open the door for Cole.

Cole slides into the car. He's wearing one of the suits they'd picked out that day, along with a beautiful wool coat that Rumi had also paid for. His hair is tousled, but in a perfect sort of way. He unbuttons his coat, revealing the rest of the suit and the beautiful blue silk tie that perfectly highlights the blue of his eyes. He's lightly scented-- the cologne with the flecks of gold. He smiles at Rumi, studying him. The suit looks perfect on him, even though he's sitting all scrunched up. Subtly elegant. He'd given him a soft purple tie. Rumi looks... entirely handsome. Cole had seen the tabloids. None of them were too incriminating. None of the pictures even showed them holding hands. But he's certainly not embarrassed to be associated with Rumi. "Well hello there."

Rumi smirks at him, and reaches into his pocket to draw something out. He offers it to Cole with a grin. It's a small red box, with a white silk ribbon tied around it, a small white flower tucked into the bow. "Hi," he says, holding out the box to Cole.

Cole looks at the box and grins, then takes it from Rumi. He glances up at him before looking back down at the box, pulling the flower free of the bow and smelling it. He tugs the ribbon free. Lord, he loves presents. As if Rumi hasn't already given him enough. He tucks the white flower in the buttonhole of his coat and lifts the lid of the box, peering inside.

There's a handsome platinum watch inside, sleek and polished and perfect. It's the sort of watch that costs a few thousand dollars at the very least, already set to the time and adjusted to be a perfect fit to Cole's wrist. Rumi watches him as he opens it. He wants him to be pleased.

Cole's smile fades. His lips are parted slightly, eyes a little wide. He stares at the watch for a long moment and then suddenly grins, letting out a laugh. "Oh my God." He looks up at Rumi. He looks like he's just won a million dollars. He looks down at the watch again. "Oh my... It's... Oh my God, Rumi, it's beautiful." He doesn't care if Rumi reacts oddly when he touches him. He doesn't care if Rumi doesn't even want to hold his hand. He slides along the seat of the car, lunging for him and wrapping his arms around him. "Thank you."

Rumi laughs softly, surprised by Cole's reaction. He's surprised, but he likes it. It's real. He wraps his arms around Cole, hugging him back, his palm flat against the small of Cole's back. "I'm glad you like it," he says, smirking. Cole smells good. It's not just the cologne. "I got it adjusted... should fit just right, but try it on."

Cole draws back, smiling at Rumi. He's gotten so many gifts before, but the watch... it's beautiful. And Rumi picked it out just for him-- as a surprise, even after all the shopping they'd done. He's beaming. He draws back, settling into his seat again, if a little closer to Rumi, and takes the watch from the box reverently. He puts it on his wrist and fastens it. It fits perfectly. "Oh, it's so beautiful, Rumi."

Rumi wants to tell Cole that he's beautiful, but it's terribly tacky, so he manages to keep it in. "I'm really glad you like it, Cole," he says. "I thought it would work with your suit and all." He'd taken a long time trying to pick out that watch. Rumi isn't the most stylish person, but he'd wanted to find something Cole would like. "The suit looks great. Though, you'd look good in anything, I'm sure."

Cole looks up at Rumi again and smiles. "The compliment is much appreciated, though I'm sure the suit doesn't hurt any." He tips his head to the side a bit. "You look very handsome. Very... you look like you could take over the world and no one would mind." His smile broadens. "I like your glasses."

Rumi's grin widens, and he adjusts his glasses a bit. He kind of fancies Cole. He wonders if it's terribly obvious. "Thank you," he says, messing his hand over his hair. "It's... a little bit of a drive to my parent's house. A half hour, maybe. I hope you don't mind." He bites his lip, leans in a bit towards Cole. "Don't let my father freak you out, alright?"

Cole smiles. "Well. That sounds ominous." He likes that Rumi's leaning toward him. It's like when they had dinner together-- the little indications that maybe he actually wants to be with Cole. Not just spend money on someone. "Is there... anything I should look out for? Things I should expect?"

"He'll be cordial. He's a businessman. But if you feel like he doesn't like you, don't take it personally. He's not really a... fan of the fact that I like boys," Rumi says. "He won't come out and be rude or anything, but don't expect to be greeted with open arms. Are your parents like that?"

Another one of those questions. Cole shrugs with a faint smile. "They're alright." They have no idea. If they do, then he certainly doesn't know. He hasn't spoken to them in well over a year.

Rumi nods, putting his feet back up on the chair in front of him, having taken them down when Cole hugged him. "That's good," he says. He chats with Cole about mostly superficial things as they drive, keeping up the conversation easily, though he doesn't ask the pressing questions he'd really like to ask. They eventually pull into the round driveway in front of his father's estate, just outside of Lindonport. It's an enormous house, elegantly pretty, and the driver comes to open the door for them. "Thank god, I'm starving," Rumi says, laughing a bit as they climb out of the car. He adjusts his suit jacket, tightens his tie, and smoothes a hand over his hair. "Am I alright?" he asks Cole.

Cole is looking up at the house, impressed. He looks over at Rumi and smiles at him, coming close to carefully straighten his tie, making sure the dimple in it is just right. He looks from his tie up to his eyes, close. He smiles. Lingers for a moment longer than he should, maybe, before he takes a step back to look him over in entirety. He nods. "Very handsome."

Rumi grins, tries not to get all giddy about the compliment, about Cole's nearness. He offers his arm to Cole as they head up the stairs, and presses the doorbell without any hesitation. A butler answers the door and steps out of their way, telling Rumi that his parents and their guests are in the first parlor. Rumi leads Cole there, the room decorated to perfection with soft, low chairs and dark wooden bookshelves. His father stands when they enter, looking from Rumi to Cole, and then back again. There are other people in the room - some of his father's business associates. Rumi bows slightly to his father, and then touches his hand to Cole's wrist, resting on his elbow, their arms still linked. "Father, this is Cole. Cole, my father, Kazuo Tatsuya."

"Welcome to my home, Cole, I'm glad you could make it," Kazuo says, just as polite as Rumi knew he would be, extending a hand to shake Cole's. He's an intimidating man, with a commanding voice, faintly accented and strong.

Cole shakes Kazuo's hand, bowing his head slightly, respectfully. "It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tatsuya. You have a beautiful home." He smiles at him-- not his full beaming grin, but a pleasant, charming sort of smile. Kazuo is certainly an intimidating man. Strength, money, power. Cole doesn't let the intimidation show, though. When he's on form, he's really on form, and he wants to be perfect tonight.

"Thank you, Cole," Kazuo says. He turns to his guests, introducing them all to Cole and Rumi by name, before they all leave the parlor and go into a room attached. It's one of the many rooms that Kazuo hosts dinner parties in. One of this size - a smaller group, but not quite an intimate one - gets this room. It has a low, squat table with a salad and tea placed at every setting and cushions for each person to kneel on. Shoes are removed before entering the room, and Kazuo sits at the head of the table, his wife beside him. Rumi's mother is thin and beautiful, but she has a hidden strength about her. Rumi sits beside Cole, reaching for his cup of warm green tea.

"So far, so good," he says, whispering it near Cole's ear. Rumi would be stuck at this dinner party either way, but it's a lot more bearable with Cole to look at.

"Cole, I'm so glad that Rumi's finally brought someone to dinner. You know, you're the first," Rumi's mother says, with a pleasant little smile.

"Oh, mom," Rumi protests, making the other guests chuckle.

Cole can't help but remember their little chat on Rumi's phone. He hopes she doesn't recognize his voice-- or if she does, that she doesn't hold it against him. He smiles at her-- a bit more charm for her than for Kazuo. "Really? My goodness, I'm a pioneer." He looks at Rumi with a smile and then looks back at his mother. "Well I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be. Your home, as I mentioned to Mr. Tatsuya, is absolutely stunning, and I certainly couldn't ask for better company." Somehow it doesn't sound as if he's sucking up at all. It all sounds completely genuine. Charming.

Rumi grins a bit and elbows Cole playfully. "Stop, it's all going straight to my head," he laughs.

"It is," his mother says, stirring her salad with chopsticks. "You're going to give him an ego, Cole. I told him once when he was little that a drawing he did was wonderful, and the next day he'd sent in an application to Pratt in New York and told me that he was dropping out of elementary school to persue the arts."

Cole sets down his chopsticks and dabs his lips with his napkin. He laughs softly, looking at Rumi. "A child prodigy by sheer will. I didn't know you draw. Such secrets." He's teasing, playful right back, but not in the sort of way that would make anyone uncomfortable.

"Oh, I don't," Rumi laughs, shaking his head and swallowing a bit of salad. "Apparently I did in elementary school, but I can't even draw a good stick figure, really."

"What do you do, Cole?" one of Kazuo's guests asks. Rumi knows her well - when he was younger, he called her Aunt Yumi, though they're not really related at all.

"I'm a musician." He looks down the table at her. "I'm in school, but I also actively compose and perform. Piano, violin, vocals." He smiles. "Music has always been a passion of mine." He's so conscious of Rumi sitting next to him. He wishes he could scoot closer or something, hold his hand. Something. He hadn't known he was the first boy Rumi had ever brought to dinner. It's not like he's his boyfriend or anything-- they've only just met. But it's still flattering.

Rumi doesn't know exactly why he chose to bring Cole. It was a decision he made on a whim. Partly to annoy his father, and partly because he just wanted Cole there. Rumi's had boyfriends in the past, but they never lasted for long. They lacked something, though Rumi still isn't sure what that is. They all chat throughout dinner - a hot seafood soup, followed by a vast array of sushi and then finished off with sweet doughy balls of chocolate ice cream. The conversation carries on for a while after they've finished eating, until the guests all leave, escorted out by the butler. Eventually, only Cole and Rumi remain at the table with Rumi's parents. Rumi's father looks to them. He clears his throat.

"So what is this about, Rumichi?" he asks evenly. "Revenge? I know you've been with other boys, why do you suddenly feel compelled to behave this way right under my nose, in front of my associates?"

"Don't even start," Rumi says darkly, taking off his glasses, keeping his attention diverted from his father by wiping them on his lap.

"Cole? Perhaps you have some insight? Why you, why now? Hm?" He looks at Cole with a false sort of calm, like a lion waiting in tall grass. It's sort of terrifying.

Oh dear. Cole had thought the dinner had gone rather well, truth be told. He'd thought they'd safely avoided any of this, that maybe he'd won Rumi's parents over-- or at least distracted them a bit. Damn. He doesn't balk under Kazuo's gaze, though he kind of wants to. "I'm not sure, Mr. Tatsuya." Rumi won't actually let anything bad happen to him. Right? "I'm sorry if I've done anything to upset you, or Mrs. Tatsuya, or any of your guests. I've enjoyed your company immensely, Mr. Tatsuya, and was hoping that you might have shared the experience. I'm sorry that you haven't."

"Oh, it's not that we haven't enjoyed your company," Kazuo says, still cordial despite his words. "You're a charming guest, Cole. I simply don't understand why my son feels the need to parade his... lifestyle about."

"I don't parade anything," Rumi says shortly, looking to his father. "I have never in my life paraded anything. I took my friend to dinner. You're the one who assumes he's my boyfriend."

"I assume he's your date, yes," Kazuo says evenly. "Because he is. I'm not stupid, Rumichi, please." Rumi is growing increasingly more annoyed, and it shows. He drops his napkin on the table, practically seething.

"Shut up, father," he says, matter-of-factly. "If you have an issue with this, you can give me a call about it tomorrow. As for now, my date and I are leaving." He stands, holding out a hand to help Cole up.

Cole looks at Rumi's father, his mother, then up at him. He takes his hand, rising gracefully, and nods to Rumi's parents. He can't quite figure out where it all went wrong. "Thank you for dinner," he says softly.

Rumi doesn't let go of Cole's hand. He rolls his eyes at his father and salutes him, then leads Cole out, stuffing his feet into his shoes as they leave the room. His parents don't try to stop them, though they say goodbye to Cole as they leave the room. Rumi keeps hold of Cole's hand as they walk towards the door, shaking his head. "He's a douchebag, I'm sorry," Rumi says. "It's not you, really, don't worry. He's just an asshole."

Cole looks at him with a faint smile. It's distracted. He nods. He wants to focus on how nice it is to have Rumi holding his hand, but he can't get over what a monumental failure the whole night seems to have been. He doesn't say anything for a bit. When he does, it seems to come out of nowhere. "I'm usually so good with people. I'm sorry." He shakes his head.

"Cole, I'm serious," Rumi says, squeezing his hand as they pass through the front door. "It's not you. You couldn't have handled it better, you were perfect. I can tell they like you. I knew it would piss my father off, and I took you anyway, because I kind of enjoy pissing him off. So seriously. It's not you. You are good with people, you were great."

Cole doesn't usually let people hold his hand this long. And certainly not this soon. He doesn't pull his hand from Rumi's though. He keeps their fingers twined as they walk to the car, pulled up in front of the house. The door to the car is opened for them. He glances over at Rumi and smiles again. He nods. Whether Rumi's parents liked him or not, it doesn't seem likely that he'd be particularly welcome again. Which means no more hanging out with Rumi. He squeezes his hand before letting go so Rumi can climb into the car. He slides in after him. "At least you looked handsome."

"As did you," Rumi says, smirking at him. He feels kind of guilty. He brought Cole into a situation where he'd certainly not be welcomed, and Cole thinks it's his own fault. He puts his feet up on the chair, messing his hand through his hair. "I don't know about you, but I could really use a drink after that. You want to hang out for a bit?"

He'd agreed to go to dinner with Rumi. Just dinner. But he looks over at him, at that little smirk and his messy hair. He probably won't want him to come to dinner anymore, so he may as well stretch this for as long as he can. Cole nods. "I'd like that."

"Good," Rumi says, nodding. He turns forward to speak to his driver in quick Japanese, and then looks back at Cole. "I'm really sorry about my father. It wasn't fair for me to take you there. I knew he'd be pissed. I shouldn't have done that to you. I really like hanging out with you, Cole, so I hope you'll forgive me."

Cole looks at Rumi, a bit surprised. "Forgive you? I... of course I forgive you. You invited me before you even knew me, so I can hardly hold it against you." He smiles softly at Rumi. "I really like hanging out with you, too, Rumi."

Rumi nods, grinning in return and then sliding open a compartment, kept stocked with all sorts of candy. He leaves it open for Cole to take what he wants as he unwraps a lollipop. "I never took any of my boyfriends there because it never got that serious, and because I knew my dad would be an asshole to them. I still should have known better than to make a stranger go, though. I'm a bit inconsiderate, Cole."

Cole looks in the compartment and plucks out a piece of hard candy. He unwraps it and puts it in his mouth. He sits back in his seat, turning toward Rumi a bit and tipping his head. "We're all a bit inconsiderate. It's just good that you realize it." Not so flattering that he'd been the first to attend a dinner at Rumi's home, then. He'd brought him because he didn't know him. Because he was being inconsiderate. Cole brushes past it. "Forgiven and forgotten."

"Good," Rumi says, tapping his lip with the lollipop. "Thank you, Cole." He puts the lollipop in his mouth, puffing out his cheek, and then looks out the window for a moment before he looks back at Cole. "You know, I'd really like to hear your music. I'm sure it's beautiful. Could I come listen to you play one day?"

Cole grins. He nods. "Of course. I'd love for you to come hear my play. I play at the Blue Rhino nearly every Saturday night, and some Wednesdays. You're welcome any time, of course."

"I'll be there, then," Rumi says, nodding, plucking the lollipop out of his mouth. He'd instructed his driver to take them to the building that his loft is in, as there's a bar off to the side of the lobby where he can order them drinks and no one will bother checking if Cole is old enough. Plus, the tabloids won't be able to take photos of them there. When they arrive at the building, Rumi doesn't tell Cole that it's the building he lives in. That seems too suggestive, and he doesn't want Cole to think he brought him here for anything but a few drinks. It doesn't really look like an apartment building, anyway - more like the lobby of a five-star hotel, all marble and beautiful furniture. They're seated at a small private table, and their drink orders are taken by a pretty waitress. Rumi tugs his tie loose absently and takes his glasses off, tucking them in the front pocket of his suit jacket. Their drinks are brought - for Rumi, a glass of amaretto. "Let's play a game," Rumi says, smirking at Cole. "Do you know 'I Never'?"

Cole sets down his class-- an apple martini-- and grins. "I think so. Explain it to me again, though, just in case." He's leaning on the table, arms folded, leaning toward Rumi slightly. This is a nice place. Somewhere he's never been before, which is rare in this city. Rumi really may spoil him for anyone else.

"Well, we go back and forth making statements, such as 'I've never... read a book.' And if you have read a book, then you drink." Rumi taps his fingers on the side of the glass. "Ready? I'll start. I've never stolen something from a store," Rumi says, and then lifts his glass to take a sip, indicating that he has.

Cole smiles and raises his glass, taking a sip. He has as well. "You outlaw." His eyes are shining in the low light, warm and inviting. He considers a moment, making a little face. "I've never... romantically kissed a girl." He doesn't take a drink. He really never has.

Rumi laughs a bit and shakes his head, as he hasn't either. He considers, and then says, "I've never said 'I love you' to a boy," he says, and doesn't drink.

Cole narrows his eyes at him. He picks up his drink and takes a sip. "I was young and foolish. Ten. His name was Jimmy. I suppose it still counts." He sighs and sets his glass down. "Hmmm." He tries to think of something that's not too incriminating. "I've never been outside of the United States."

Rumi takes a gulp, and then lifts his brows at Cole. "You haven't? Not even to like... Mexico, or Canada?" Rumi leaves the country almost every other week, goes for a weekend overseas, on some island, a few days in Italy. Wherever he feels like spending the weekend.

Cole shakes his head. "Not even to Mexico or Canada. Not that I wouldn't love to, of course." He shrugs a shoulder. "It just hasn't happened yet."

It's the first time that it occurs to Rumi that Cole might not be wealthy, too. Though he should have gathered it from Cole's excitement over the gifts - no one who could easily afford it would be that grateful - it only seems like a possibility to him now. He suddenly wants to sweep Cole up, take him on a plane, bring him all over the world. It's very difficult for him to reign that in and continue with the game. "Hm. I've never... been a witness to a crime," Rumi says, and then takes a drink.

It doesn't occur to Cole that he might have slipped up with that, revealing that he's not as wealthy as he might appear to be. He's a little wide-eyed, staring at Rumi with an open, smiling mouth. "You are an outlaw! Do I get to know what sort of crime? Or would I be sent to sleep wit da fishes?" He grins.

Rumi smirks, swirling the ice in his drink absently. He can't tell Cole what he saw. It definitely would ruin the mood. "Maybe one day I'll tell you," he says, a bit playfully.

"And then send me to sleep wit da fishes?" Cole laughs, tipping his head to the side slightly. It's a flirtatious little pose. He thinks. "Hmm. I have never... I'm trying to think of one that's clever. You may have drained me of all my wit for the evening. I have never... been accused repeatedly of being a prostitute." He laughs and takes a nice long sip of his drink.

Rumi laughs, shaking his head and not taking a sip. "Who would ever think such a thing?" he smirks. He looks down, considering thoughtfully. "Hm. I've never... had a one-night stand," he says, and takes a sip of his drink.

Cole ponders on this one, trailing his finger along the rim of his glass. By most definitions-- no. He's never had one. It makes him feel like a bit of a prude, but he doesn't drink. Rules of the game. He rests his chin on his palm, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at Rumi as he considers. If Rumi admitted to a one-night stand... "I've never..." he sighs. "Kissed someone who's old enough to be my father." He laughs a bit and takes another sip. "He was very nice, though."

Rumi grins, shaking his head as he watches Cole drink. "I'm sure he was," he laughs. "I've never... liked someone this much on only the second date before," Rumi says, and takes a sip.

Oh, that makes Cole beam. A faint wash of color comes to his cheeks-- barely noticeable in the low light. He picks up his glass and takes a sip as well. He's nearly finished his drink. "Well. I don't even know what to say after something like that. I think you may have won. I'm not sure what the exact rules are... but I'm fairly sure you won in my book regardless."

"I don't know if there's a winner. Maybe we both won," Rumi laughs, shrugging and taking a gulp of his drink, almost empty. "But I had fun tonight. Except for the part where my dad was an asshole to you. Otherwise... so maybe we could do this again next week. Go out to dinner."

Cole pulls his stirrer out of the martini glass, drawing one of the pieces of apple from it with his teeth. He chews and smiles. Another date. He nods. "I think I'd like that very much."

"Good. We'll make some plans, then," Rumi smiles, and then looks at the time. "But for tonight... I've kept you out late enough. Isn't it time for your carriage to turn into a pumpkin?" He smirks.

"I'm not sure. Let me consult my beautiful watch that a handsome stranger gave to me." He grins and looks at the watch that Rumi had given him earlier. He sighs. "I suppose it is." He raises his glass and finishes his drink.

Rumi finishes his drink as well, and then stands. "My driver will take you home," Rumi says, taking out his cellphone to call him. "I... live upstairs," Rumi says, laughing a bit at himself.

Cole stands as well. "You do?" He looks around. "So this is the prince's palace. I like that it serves cocktails." And he likes that he knows where Rumi lives now. He likes gleaning these things from him-- little intimate bits of information. "Walk me outside?"

"Absolutely," Rumi nods, offering his arm to Cole and then pressing send, telling the driver to meet them outside. He walks to the door with Cole, opening it for him, keeping their arms linked. "Thank you very much for the wonderful company this evening," he says, spoken like a true gentleman.

"Likewise." Cole smiles at him, pausing with him outside of the building. He's not sure what's going to happen. If Rumi's going to kiss him, or if they'll just part ways and talk to each other later. If he'll really call. "Thank you for inviting me."

The car pulls up promptly, and Rumi turns to Cole. He considers kissing him. He would like to. But it's not right, and he knows it. He doesn't. If Cole wants to kiss him, he will - otherwise, Rumi thinks it wouldn't be right. Cole's not a prostitute, and Rumi doesn't want to make it seem like he wants anything from him. "I'll talk to you soon, Cole," he says.

No kiss, then. Cole feels a little sting of disappointment, but smiles anyway. "I look forward to it. Good night." He gives Rumi's arm a faint squeeze, then slides his arm free, turning and walking to the waiting car. Hoping he really will call.