Yamada Ryosuke & Chinen Yuri
Yamada x Chinen
Yama is an idol
Yuri is a student/barista
little bit of angst
Music Inspiration: Dreaming Alone–Against the Current featuring Taka (ONE OK ROCK)
Yuri slid the cup of coffee across the counter, his heart thrumming in his chest, because every time he came in he spoke to him so kindly, his voice was soft and tender, and it would be easy for Yuri to imagine there was more to it than just a customer being nice to the person who made his coffee. He did everything he could to stop himself from allowing those daydreams to carry him away, as he was just the same, charismatic, friendly, and bold—yep, today was no exception, and Yuri found himself struggling to answer the question he had just asked him today…thinking he might have misunderstood, or imagined it.
Would you let me take you on a date?
What? No. You’re Yamada Ryosuke, and I am no one.
I am literally nobody.
I barely make eight dollars an hour, am putting myself through college, and live in the most embarrassing neighborhood in the universe.
I come from a broken home, have a crazy family, and I literally can’t fathom what kind of world you live in.
Yuri had probably looked like a deer caught in headlights, swallowing roughly as his mind whirled in every direction trying to make sure he wasn’t going to make a complete fool of himself by misunderstanding what was just asked of him, his voice trembling when he cautiously spoke, “Th-thank you for asking, but I am afraid I can not do that.”
“You can not do that?” Ryosuke leaned onto the counter, his words slow and measured, his eyes shifting to look at Yuri’s closely.
Yuri’s breath caught, because Ryosuke’s eyes were beautiful under normal conditions, but they were so tender with some feeling Yuri just couldn’t quite put a name to, Ryosuke’s voice incredibly taking on an even more tender tone than normal as he shifted closer still, “Why’s that, exactly?”
“Um,” Yuri blinked, his mind running through a billion different reasons—starting with the most obvious one.
I’m just an average guy and you…are Yamada Ryosuke.
Who wouldn’t be caught dead in a scandal, let alone a scandal that involved a date with another guy.
I clearly misunderstood.
Fumbling over the words in his mind, Yuri’s eyes landed on the coffee still sitting on the counter, pressing it forward with his fingertips, just a bit further toward Ryosuke—gasping when his hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist, causing Yuri to jump. The tiny squeal sound that escaped against his will made Ryosuke grin for a moment before he spoke.
“This is my number, you should text me when you change your mind,” he whispered the words, smiling a completely ridiculously beautiful smile as he pressed something into Yuri’s palm with his other hand, then released his hand as he picked up his coffee in a single smooth motion, then turned to stroll casually out of the cafe.
Oh my God.
It wasn’t like Ryosuke hadn’t been coming in the cafe regularly for over seven months now. Though for two months the simple truth was Yuri was so completely oblivious to the attention Ryosuke had paid to him that he was in complete and utter denial. Then one of Yuri’s friends who had started working there asked him what exactly was going on between the two of them.
“What do you mean? He’s a customer?”
“Ah, right? He’s a customer?”
“Um, yes? He has been a customer for a few months.”
“Ah, no. Honestly, he’s totally into you, and you talk to him.”
“I talk to him because he’s a customer, and don’t be insane do you know who that is?”
“Yes, I do know, but who cares, who actually needs to buy eight different things in an hour? Plus, the entire cafe is pink. I feel pretty strongly he’s not coming here on average three to four times a week because he’s into pastel colors. I mean, really! C’mon! The way he watches you…seriously? You don’t see this?”
Yuri had thought about it for a moment, then shrugged, “Your logic is off, I’m a guy and I work here,” he pointed to the apron tied around his neck, “I even wear this thing…I don’t think that has any bearing on the situa—”
“You work here because you’re gay,” his friend reached forward, straightening up his bowtie, “And your favorite color is pink, and I will let you believe what you want to, but I’m just saying to you, he’s not coming in here for any of us—he doesn’t even see us. He only has eyes for you.”
Yuri had considered what she said, because he’d always figured Ryosuke was ordering things for friends or group members who sometimes met him there. He’d never really wondered about it, at least he had tried very hard to not wonder about it.
About how long he would take to order sometimes, even though he must have the menu memorized by now.
The way he sometimes reached a little further, the tips of his fingers touching Yuri’s hand brushing against his fingertips when he would hand over the money.
Still, Yuri was nothing if not a realist, and frankly, he wasn’t one for flights of fancy or an overactive imagination–or really, one to set himself up for heartbreak—he already had enough of that being one of the few guys like himself in his town, let alone seeing possibilities in someone so far out of his league as Yamada Ryosuke. No, he would continue to insist, anytime it was brought up that Ryosuke was just another customer.
After all, Yuri served a lot of people every single day and he treated all of them the same, with respect and kindness–because that’s who he was, and it was the foundation of his personality so he didn’t treat Ryosuke any diff—and…and, wait…was he really just making up excuses to come up to order more stuff so he could talk to me?
He didn’t make a decision to purposefully do it, but after that, Yuri couldn’t help but pay attention to what was really happening when Ryosuke would visit the café. It was pretty undeniable that he was most certainly spending a lot of time interacting with just Yuri.
Of course, if Yuri wasn’t so stubborn and utterly, completely obnoxious about the whole situation then it could maybe be easy to imagine that Ryosuke might actually like him or something–which really, even in the constant state of denial, Yuri simply couldn’t begin to understand.
Confused by his own feelings, Yuri had begun forcing his friend to start waiting on Ryosuke when he would come in—mostly because he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation and he had no idea what to say to Ryosuke to make it clear that he was so far out of his league that a handicap of epic proportions would be required for Yuri to even be permitted into the locker room, let alone onto the playing field.
Even then, Yuri didn’t remotely miss the way Ryosuke would linger around the register when he would hide in the back, or the way he would sulk, often leaving rather quickly when his ongoing attempts to reach out to Yuri would inevitably fail. His friend had informed him each time that Ryosuke had asked about him specifically by name, thanking her for her smooth deflection each time—and for putting up with the intensity of Ryosuke’s stare down when he would be told that Yuri wasn’t available. He was fierce and his curt nod each time seemed to indicate he understood far more than he was actually saying.
It’s better this way.
Ryosuke had certainly taken the game up a notch today—he’d been bold, and the fact was Yuri nearly passed out on the spot when Ryosuke had squeezed his wrist before he released it. As he’d picked up his cup, Yuri stared dumbfounded, watching him walk out the door, then looking down at the paper he’d pressed into his hand, the words ’Call or text me! Ryosuke’ printed in neat writing, along with his phone number.
Yuri had instantly went to the office and shredded the paper as small as he could before he threw it away because honestly, there’s no way he wanted to be responsible for some overbearing fan who knew Ryosuke came there regularly to stalk the garbage and get their hands on it.
The next day, Ryosuke was back, which was unusual, because he didn’t normally come in on Mondays.
Could you not?
Admit you know his schedule?
“You know, I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t call me? Or text me,” Ryosuke’s voice was teasing, and Yuri raised an eyebrow at the familiarity he was using, tilting his head, smiling as angelically as he possibly could, the words sweet, carefully annunciating each syllable, “The usual?”
“No,” Ryosuke leaned onto the counter, and the scent that Yuri had come to find uniquely ‘Ryosuke’ wafted across the counter. In defense, Yuri immediately held his breath, trying to not hum in satisfaction as Ryosuke smiled disarmingly, his words soft yet full of intensity at the same time, “I want to talk to you.”
Yuri stepped back away from the counter a bit, taking a deep breath of fresh air, because Ryosuke was entirely too close, his eyes frantic as he glanced around nervously in case anyone was watching their interactions, “I can’t really talk right now, I…I’m working.”
“When do you get off work?”
“I’ll come back when you’re off work, we can talk then?”
“Ah, no…I mean…I do get off work, but we…you can’t…What can I get you to drink? To eat?” Yuri’s words were a blur, a frenzy as his nervousness escalated, his fingers grabbing the edge of his apron to stop his hands from trembling.
Ryosuke’s eyes moved around Yuri’s face, his expression intense, clearly trying to read the situation, then his head tilted, his face lighting up with a beautiful smile, “The usual.”
“O-okay,” Yuri turned, his hands shaking as he began to make his drink, one of the young girls who came in daily after school approaching the counter, calling out Yuri’s name.
“May I please have one of the orange-cranberry muffins?”
“Of course,” Yuri had smiled, forgetting all about Ryosuke for a moment as he nodded at the young girl, one he was quite fond of, “I just made them a few hours ago and they are very good!”
Yuri put the drink into the mixer and then turned, putting on gloves to get the muffin for the girl, “How is your history assignment going?”
“Really, really good!” the girl gushed, her entire body vibrating with excitement, “Plus, oh my God, guess what?!”
Yuri laughed happily at her excitement, “What?”
“I’m in the group with him!”
“Oh, that is exciting, huh?”
“Very!” the girl glanced over at Ryosuke who had leaned his hip onto the counter, his arms crossed, expression filled with amusement as he watched the interaction.
“I’m sorry,” the girl startled, “It was very rude for me to place my order like that while you were still here.”
“It’s okay,” Ryosuke laughed, waving his hand in front him, “Please, don’t concern yourself with it for a moment.”
Yuri blinked at Ryosuke, chiding himself for being so unguarded, but having a real weakness for Aito, looking back to her as he slid the muffin on the plate across the counter, shaking his head when she went to open her bag, Yuri’s voice soft, “Not today.”
Aito’s eyes clouded with emotion for a moment, and then she nodded, bowing quickly, “Thank you, Chinen-kun.”
Yuri watched her as she turned and took her muffin to the corner where she was studying, feeling heat settle across his skin, his eyes darted over to discover Ryosuke looking at him curiously, which once again made his tummy bubble in nervousness, the already active butterflies which always seemed to take up residence there anytime Ryosuke appeared now doing somersaults.
He immediately turned his attention to the mixer to finish Ryosuke’s drink, doing the thing he knew he best did seem to calm his nerves a bit.
When the drink was finished, Yuri stepped back over to the counter, sitting Ryosuke’s cup down, and pressing it forward with his fingertips, trying to ensure he kept a proper distance, his words strained, “There you go!”
Sensing the tone, Ryosuke slid his money across the counter, carefully avoiding touching Yuri, and when Yuri offered him his change, Ryosuke smiled as he pushed it down into the tip jar, Yuri’s eyes widening comically as he realized Ryosuke was the one who kept leaving the fifteen dollar tips!
I should have guessed that.
Something flared up inside of Yuri, his cheeks feeling hot and flaming and he took a breath, chastising himself for wanting to tell Ryosuke that he didn’t need charity—knowing it was just a prideful feeling—after all, he was fairly certain Ryosuke must know the tips were divided between all of the employees, and his leaving the money there was a mere act of kindness.
He’s just a good guy.
Is that so hard to believe?
There are no good guys.
You’re too jaded to be so young.
“Thank you,” Yuri’s voice was soft, a genuine smile gracing his face, and he felt too raw and exposed in that moment, grateful when the door chimed where a new customer was walking in.
Yuri’s eyes grew wide when he realized that there would be no escaping Ryosuke just yet, as the person who walked in was one of his group members.
“Dai–chan,” Ryosuke smiled, gesturing to Yuri, “Tell my friend here what you’d like, I’ll take care of it.”
The boy looked curiously at Yuri from across the counter, his friendly smile somehow unnerving as he told him what he’d like to have. Yuri was happy to escape away from their gaze, turning to prepare the order, studiously ignoring the two of them and their conversation–at least he was sincerely attempting to.
“So, you know…he didn’t call or text.”
“Nope. Not a call, not a text.”
“Hmmm, maybe he just doesn’t like you, Yama-chan. I know that’s hard for you to believe, being…you and all that…but maybe tha—”
“I am not sure that’s what it is.”
“Hmm…what makes you think not?”
“I’ll show you in a minute.”
They were quiet for a moment, and Yuri felt like something was being said silently between the two, resisting the urge to turn and look for himself.
“Okay, then I’m just saying, I mean if he did like you, I think then he would have called or texted, right?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Yuri took longer than it should have, not wanting to turn around to them, like, in all the world of things he wanted to do, including having the floor swallow him whole, he did NOT want to turn around and face the two of them because they obviously knew he’d heard every word of their conversation.
He didn’t want to see their faces; he knew his cheeks were bright red and he was so embarrassed it felt like he was in a spotlight.
“We should ask him.”
Oh, God please….just kill me now.
Yuri had been standing stone still, the drink finished for several minutes before he gave up, taking a deep, shuddering breath, then turning around to quickly set the drink down in hopes of making a quick escape. Before Yuri could even think about getting away, Ryosuke smiled triumphantly, pointing to the cup Yuri had just set down for his group member and then gesturing to his own, “See? I told you!”
Ryosuke glanced up at Yuri, winking quickly and then his eyes went back to the other boy who looked at the cups and then looked up at Yuri, his stance defiant, voice whining, “Hey! I want a heart in mine, too!”
The world felt like it was tilting and Yuri was pretty sure he was going to pass out when he heard Ryosuke laugh softly, telling his friend to shut up, and without his permission, Yuri’s eyes darted down to the cups, widening when he saw it, the feeling of mortification running across his skin when he realized that he had indeed put a row of hearts in the foam on Ryosuke’s and had only done a pattern of circles on the top of his group member’s cup.
Kill me now, I’m begging you.
Yuri couldn’t tear his eyes away from the cup with the hearts, a million thoughts battling for dominance, and then he rolled his eyes in exasperation, the words flying out of his mouth rather ineloquently, yet too fast to stop them, “I threw the number away, I have no intention of calling or texting. I…I just…I am in school, and I work, and I don’t have time to think about anything else…I…and I just don’t need pity or anything either.”
Yuri’s hands lifted to cover his mouth, to stop the word vomit, not meaning to say so much, feeling utterly appalled that he’d said those things out loud, his head shaking as he backed away from the two dumbfounded boys, turning to escape into the back to the manager’s office, his voice high and fast as he bowed, “I’m sorry, I am really sorry, I have to go, it’s an emergency!”
“Of course, I’ll call in someone, go, take care of what you need.”
Yuri had never lied to his manager before, in fact, lying wasn’t really part of Yuri’s nature in the first place, and given this, he was fairly certain she must believe something quite dire had transpired to make Yuri willing to leave work, and it had.
I’ve lost my mind, clearly.
Yuri grabbed his hoodie from his locker, willing his hands to stop shaking as he threw it on, not bothering to slow down enough to even take off his apron he rushed out the back door, gasping for air.
He rushed across the street, stepping into the border of the park that he crossed to reach his home when he heard his name from behind him.
Ryosuke’s voice was soft, and apologetic, “I’m sorry if that was rude…I don’t know what I’m doing, I just want to talk to you.”
Yuri jumped, not having realized how close he was, waiting for him to block his way, debating how fast he could take off running and get away from this situation—to go where he’d never be found again, after all, he could get a new job.
“I-I…” Ryosuke’s voice was shaking, and Yuri’s heart clenched because he was so nervous…wait, honestly, why in the world is he nervous!?
“This…this isn’t like me okay? I don’t….I just don’t do things like this…”
“I don’t have any idea what I’m doing here…and if I messed up or something you just…”
It’s so cute.
“I don’t understand. that’s all..I don’t know what you meant…”
He’s so cute.
“I don’t know what you meant about pity. I didn’t ask you out from pity. I just…I just really wanted to make sure you knew that.”
Ryosuke sighed softly, his voice so near Yuri imagined that he must have moved closer still, “I’m sorry to be so persistent. It’s just…I wanted to get to know you. I see you and I know about you, but I want to know you more. That’s all.”
His words caused Yuri’s heart to skip a beat, his fists clenching at his side as he tried to speak words into the situation that would fix this, make it okay, “I’m sorry, Yamada-san, but you don’t know me at all.”
“I know you better than you think,” Ryosuke spoke softly, “I know that you are going to school to be a teacher, that you finally graduate this year–and that you choose high school because you think those kids need someone to love them the way they are. I know that you want to teach literature because books have been an escape for you for all of your life and you want to teach kids to love them.”
Ryosuke shifted, moving a little bit closer, “I know your father left your family when you were seven, and you took on a lot of responsibility for your Mom and sister who is two years older than you.”
“I know that you work as many hours as they’ll let you so that you can pay for your education, which means it has taken you nearly two more years than anyone else to graduate, and on top of that, you always send money home to your Mom and sister to help them as much as you can–even though they tell you not to.”
“I know that you love music, your favorite color is any shade of pink, you love the smell of apple cider but hate to drink it…”
He’d moved to the side of Yuri, and even though there was a part of him that was really freaked out by Ryosuke stating all of this personal information, somehow wondering if he was a stalker, which would undoubtedly be a really weird turn of events, but…stranger things have happened.
After all…I am standing here in a fluffy pink apron talking to Yamada Ryosuke.
Still, despite knowing there should be warning bells, instead there was an insistent part that was telling Yuri that it was okay, everything is okay…just listen.
“I know that you don’t buy new clothes, and that you have great pride in what you do have, your apron and uniform is always pressed, every single time I see you. I know that you are far cuter in your uniform than anyone else in that whole shop–in fact, the whole city.”
Yuri could hear the smile in his voice, the warmth settling across his skin like a blanket, his voice soft and tender as he continued to speak, “I know that you are very careful with your money, and I know that you give two of those girls who come into the shop every school day freebies out of your own paycheck because they come from broken homes and their mom’s struggle like your own did.”
Yuri’s eyes drifted to look at Ryosuke’s shoes when he moved to step in front of him, shoes that probably cost more than eight month’s rent.
“I know that you take care of those girls, give them advice, listen to them. I know that you also look out for several of your elderly customers, keeping umbrellas on hand in case they get caught in the rain, sending some of your friends to walk them home if they are out past dark.”
He moved closer to Yuri, his hands moving out of his pockets and Yuri couldn’t conceal the way his entire body flinched, wanting to run away, wanting to back up.
“I know that you have the purest soul I have ever seen, I know that you couldn’t care less about material things, you find joy in the simplest things, you giggle at children’s laughter, you watch out the window at the wind in the trees. When you get mad you clean. When you are happy, you hum. Sometimes, you even hum one of my songs.”
“Please,” Yuri gasped, it’s too much, “How…I’ve never even talked to you!”
“That’s true,” Ryosuke mused, his hand lifting to delicately touch Yuri’s chin, tilting his face up to look at him, Yuri’s breath caught in his chest from the contact, from the earnest look in Ryosuke’s eyes, “You don’t talk to me, but you do talk to everyone else.”
For all of these many months, Ryosuke had been paying attention, and he’d been learning about Yuri by listening to him talk to the other customers, some of them people that knew Yuri since he was just a toddler. It never occurred to Yuri to censor himself, and he was never worried about talking in the café…it was like his second home. He trusted people there, and his guard was always down, always down apart from with Ryosuke–because Yuri did like him, and that was dangerous and scary, and impossible.
“I know everything apart from one thing,” Ryosuke’s finger stayed on his chin, insistent that he not hide, “Why you won’t talk to me.”
Yuri shook his head, pushing Ryosuke’s hand away, shifting around him so he could rush past him, the words frantic, “I have to go.”
“Why won’t you talk to me?” Ryosuke was begging, his voice louder as Yuri’s feet carried him away, “Please!”
“What did I do?” Ryosuke called out, desperation laced within the words.
Yuri could tell he was following him, that he was not going to give up, his head shaking as he tried to block the words.
“Tell me why you won’t talk to me!”
It was nearly a scream, and it made Yuri jump, made him stop, turning on Ryosuke, a strange mixture of anger and frustration and fear combining into a response, “You want to know why? Because this,” Yuri’s hand gestured between the two of them, “This is not possible. This is not going to happen. You are you and I am me, and it’s not remotely possible for us to have anything more than a professional relationship. I am always going to be the barista, and you are always going to be the idol.”
Ryosuke’s mouth opened and closed, flabbergasted, his head shaking, his expression not remotely hiding his confusion and hurt feelings, “What in the world…what do you mean?”
Yuri sighed, crossing his arms across his chest, his voice pained, “I am nothing like you, I don’t fit you, you need one of those other kind of people who, I dunno, who know the difference between types of wine, and who knows which fork to use for what course, and all of those things–who knows name brands and likes expensive and weird things like caviar…I’m not that person! Honestly, I’m nobody. I have nothing to offer you. I bring nothing to the table. You would only be with me because you feel sorry for me.”
“That’s a lie!” Ryosuke’s voice was firm, his body shifting toward Yuri, like he was preparing to step closer, his eyes intense as they held Yuri’s, daring him to argue, “That’s completely false. I want to take you out because you are an amazing guy, and because I think there’s something so unique and speci–but now, wait, wait just a minute–what in the world would make you think any of that? Did I say or do something or is this because you know I’m an idol and that automatically makes me a stuck-up brat who doesn’t eat frozen pizza and drink beer on the weekends?”
Yuri stared at him, his mouth growing dry, opening and closing before he spoke softly, “You don’t eat frozen pizza and drink beer.”
“I most certainly do,” Ryosuke laughed, shaking his head, “Do you honestly think I cook seven course meals daily just because I know how to cook? Or that I pay a personal chef to cook for me or something?”
“I–I don’t know…I–You’re…you’re confusing me.” Yuri clenched his eyes closed, trying to clear his head, to make sense of this conversation.
“No, I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know why you thought these things, but it feels like you’re doing to me what you’ve been saying I was doing to you!”
Yuri startled at that, weighing the words for truth and finding it was fact, his eyes popping open, his brows drawn down, “I’m sorry,” his voice was a mere whisper, “I just…I don’t know why you’re so interested in me.”
Ryosuke darted forward so fast Yuri inhaled sharply as he invaded his personal bubble.
Yuri trembled at his proximity when he moved close enough to whisper against his ear, his voice soft, and gentle, the smooth sound of his words making Yuri’s eyes flutter closed, “Yuri, I am interested in you because you are fascinating, and it has nothing to do with where you work, what you wear, or where you live–it’s because of who you are.”
Yuri’s mouth popped open to protest, but it was like Ryosuke could read his mind, “I don’t know who told you that you were nobody, but I’m going to see to it one way or another that you realize it’s a lie.”
Ryosuke leaned back, his face entirely too close to Yuri’s, his eyes filled with sincerity, “Just…please, just let me take you out. Let me get to know you the way those people do.”
“I can’t give you anything, Yamada-san,” Yuri glanced down, the truth causing him to feel embarrassed again, “I can–”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ryosuke interrupted him, his voice firm, “You can give me the only thing I want, the thing that no fame, no fortune, no amount of prestige, talent, skill, or abilities will ever afford me…”
Yuri looked up at him, his eyes wide, afraid that the spell was going to be broken, feeling overwhelmed as Ryosuke smiled softly, the corners of his eyes tender with emotion, “You.”
“Yes,” Ryosuke nodded, “You. Please, give me a chance. Forget the notions you’ve built up about why you should run, and let me reassure you–convince you to stay.”
Yuri felt a war within, wondering if he could, or maybe more importantly if he should believe the things Ryosuke was saying, if he should so easily toss all of his excuses aside.
They were always stupid excuses, Yuri knew that, because the truth is, he wasn’t one to take risks, especially not in relationships. He’d rather be alone than suffer from caring for someone else and them not feeling the same.
“Ok-okay,” Yuri nodded, surprised when the word flew out of his mouth.
“Really?” Ryosuke’s eyes were wide, his voice high, “Seriously?”
Yuri couldn’t help but laugh, because Ryosuke’s expression looked so excited, so happy, and he shrugged, nodding, “Okay.”
Ryosuke laughed, grabbing his hand, and started to drag Yuri toward the sidewalk, Yuri looked around in confusion, “Wait, what are we doing, Yamada-san?”
Ryosuke stopped, looking at Yuri with amusement, “Ryosuke,” he corrected firmly, “and we’re going on a date.”
He started walking again, and Yuri tried to stop him, pulling back on his arm, “Wait, what? Now?”
“If you think I’m giving you a chance to change your mind, you can forget it!”
He has a point.
“Where are we going, Yama–” Yuri stopped mid-sentence when Ryosuke frowned, clearing his throat before he tested the name, “Ryosuke?”
“To dinner,” Ryosuke smiled, dragging him toward a taxi.
“Dinner…” Yuri’s mind flittered to his appearance, to the jeans and t-shirt he had on under that stupid apron and coat, his hands shaking with nerves as he pulled his hand free, untying the apron to drag it off and fold it into his arms, gesturing to himself and his hoodie, “I’m not…I’m not wearing the right clot–”
“Relax,” Ryosuke mused, opening the cab door, holding his hadn out for Yuri to hop in, “We’re going to this cute little Italian restaurant I love, a normal, everyday place. Besides, to be honest, you’re dressed perfect for at least 99% of what I actually do in my life.”
“We’re eating pizza.”
Ryosuke smiled softly when Yuri got into the taxi, shifting into the seat to make room for him to slide in, not trusting his words, he just nodded in agreement.
That sounds good.
Ryosuke glanced over at Yuri, their legs touching as he moved forward, telling the driver where to take them, and then turned to look at Yuri, his eyes twinkling, “Pizza…and then we’re going to really talk.”
That sounds even better.