“...huh.” tenga exhales shakily through his nose, just kind of... doing all that he can --- which, at the moment, is glancing through the clear glass of the broad, recently-cleaned restaurant window with the convenient location of right next to him. cool. his four eyes gorge themselves on an absolute feast of possibly the most spectacular & attention-grabbing glob of vehicles headed for, uh, someplace or other down on the street below. huh. hmm. realleh nice.
& so, a mere glance puh-retty much turns into a long gaze, & sooner or later, the musclehead feels as if he can maaaybe, pooossibly, aaalmost kinda try to ignore the glaringly awkward situation he's apparently being four-point swished into.
it’s rainin’ men ( not really, but close ), so their friends --- & everyone else, pretty much --- had all decided to get tha heck out of dodge all at once the second it started sprinkling, which in effect leaves only himself ( tenga, that is !! ) & a probably blank-faced katsuhira sitting across from each other in like, this ultra-modern booth sorta thing that tenga had honestly found pretty cool & genuinely amusing just moments prior, before all’a this happened.
thing is, he & katsuhira haven’t really done much along the vein of bros bein’ bros & chillin’ one-on-one since the whole... uh, thought-sharing thing. the stormy stunt. the gale-force brouhaha. tenga’s honestly surprised that it’s gone on this long --- although, it really ain’t nobody’s fault but his. ( hah! silly tenga! he actually thought putting it off would be the logical answer. despite the fact that ‘putting it off’ has literally never been the answer to anything, ever ! literally. )
& so, here he is, contemplating the fact that he, hajime tenga, has possibly in his heart of hearts been trying to avoid exactly this kind of uh, eventuation all along. contemplating how all the energy he had literally just been spending trying to ‘leave it for later’ could’ve actually been put into trying instead to think of something useful for his crusty bubble butt to say to the lad currently sitting across from him. ahem, he believes this calls for a sarcastic: ‘reeeal good nice one, tenga my homie.’ --- ahem !
“soooo, katsu-hira ---” tenga brings himself to speak finally, having to turn his whole torso in order to look at the only other one around. “looks like the two of us... actually forgot our umbrellas !” he makes an attempt at a lighthearted grin & a small chuckle. “huh, wouldya look at that, my man --- can i get uhh ‘faaaaail?’”
truthfully seeing it as the best possible idea at the time, tenga lifts both hands & finger-guns across the table --- but, naturally, not without both the index & middle finger of one of his hands colliding with his glass of dr. p, sending the whole thang tipping over like an extra-exhausted tower in italy --- or whatever.
it was seriously like somethin’ out of the horrible, awkwardly-acted b movie of nightmares, the black-ish brown carbonated liquid toootally flying everywhere --- &, as events would have it, mostly landing on katsuhira’s very white shirt. oh wow. ‘cause when in doubt, guys, thaaat’s what we do ! mmhmm !!
@apathies!
