“Oh,” says the guy, eyes gone shiny and wide, like he’s two breaths away from swooning. As it is, a flush begins to spread across his cheeks and he begins fidgeting with the ends of his fingerless gloves. “I’d like that, Watanabe-san,” he says with a shy smile which isn’t unattractive at all.
“Please,” Jiro says, flashing a charming smile of his own which Sakura has actually caught him practicing in their bathroom mirror, “Call me Jiro,” he requests, before placing a hand on the other’s resting between them on the bar.
Jiro’s latest conquest really does look like he’s about to faint, eyes fluttering like out of a cheap romance novel.
Youbirin looks like he’s about to gag, though he hides it quickly enough behind his drink.
Sakura rolls her eyes, but they both stay silent while their teammate works his magic and gets the guy’s number and promise of a future date. Once he leaves out of earshot, however, they’re free to let loose.
“Oh my god,” Sakura bursts out, syllables stretched out in conflictingly amused horror, while Youbirin follows through on his impulse and gives mock retching noises.
“What?” Jiro protests, “It’s not my fault I’ve got game and both of you don’t.”
“That was not game, Jiro,” she scoffs, “Come on,” she scoffs, “That guy was way too easy to need any kind of game.”
Youbirin, backing her up, leans in close and flutters his eyelashes uncontrollably. “Isn’t this a symptom of electrocution? I mean, you’d know, Jiro-san,” he says, an exaggerated simper on the honorific.
“Medic-nin are so impressive,” Sakura adds, her own fluttering eyelids making Jiro laugh.
“Hey, low hanging fruit, right?” he asks with a smirk.
“I know you want something to be low hanging,” she quips back, pleased when she hears both Jiro and Youbirin sputter into their drinks.
“Sakura!” Jiro chokes out, appalled.
Youbirin, because he’s one step away from being uncultured swine, simultaneously wipes up his chin with his sleeve and holds out a hand for a high five.
She magnanimously deigns him with one.
“You guys are the worst,” Jiro mutters, but he waves over the bartender for another round, and that’s almost as good as him telling them he loves them.
“Lies,” Youbirin says,“we are the best,” and since Jiro doesn’t say anything to the contrary then it must be true.
Once they’ve been settled with new drinks, Sakura smacks Jiro on the shoulder to get his attention. She’s not actually trying to hurt him, but her super strength is kind of her default state, so he still winces at the impact.
“Feel free to go after your new beau,” she suggests, because why shouldn’t she live vicariously through one of her best friends. Part of her embarrassment at how easily Jiro was able to pick up that guy is because they’ve all collectively had so little free time that none of them have gotten anywhere near as close to getting laid as that in a shamefully long time.
“But what about–” Jiro gestures at all three of them, because each of them getting free time is rare, but all of them getting free time at the same time? Is damn near impossible.
“Don’t sweat it,” Youbirin says easily, probably feeling the same thing she is, “Sakura and I can get drunk by our lonesome and talk about how we apparently lack any game whatsoever.”
“If you’re sure?” Jiro asks, expression only a little bit guilty, and already standing up from his seat.
“Go on, already,” she says, shooing him away. As he leaves, she calls out after him, “And remember, if you bring him back to our place, no sex in the common areas!”
“Especially not the kitchen!” Youbirin adds, obnoxiously loud.
Jiro flips them off without turning around, otherwise acting as if he can’t hear their heckling.
She and Youbirin just laugh.
A/N: short thing based on a true story…