ArchivedLogs:Mutual Mastication

Mutual Mastication
Dramatis Personae Toru, Trib, Cage
In Absentia	2013-08-22 Cage takes Trib and Toru out to sushi and karaoke so Cage can meet Trib's man.
Location Japas 38 Karaoke and Sushi Bar, Manhattan
Location: Japas 38 Karaoke and Sushi Bar, Manhattan It’s Thursday night and Luke Cage has finally lived up to his promise to set something up where he can meet Trib’s man, Toru. In Luke’s infinite wisdom, he deduces the two men would love to join him at the Japas 38 karaoke bar in Manhattan. It’s hip, trendy, and everything Cage knows NOTHING about. He’s vaguely aware people get up and sing at these things. Cage sent a car service to Trib’s place to pick him up, and then go wherever Trib needs to pick up Toru. The driver should know where the bar is from there. Cage is here early, camping out a good booth off to the side, and figuring out exactly what is happening here. He’s in a purple dress shirt, jeans, and boots. The sleeves are rolled up to the forearms, and the top button is undone. He has an Asahi beer in front of him, which went over pretty well, but he is thoroughly confused about the random people getting up, singing badly, and being APPLAUDED. Brow furrowed, he continues to study the scene. Also untouched, the bowl of warm green, bean-looking things on the table. Probably poison. Trib does not look /happy/ about the chosen location, when he looms in the entrance to the bar. Dressed in a chambray shirt and jeans, with a blue-stoned ring hanging from a silver chain around his neck, he really looks more like he’s here to do some sort of mechanical service than to have drinks. He /has/ conceded to gussying up on in that his hair is smoothed back and tucked behind his ears. The boxer wrinkles his nose at the crowd, and the off-key singing, and his brow lowers. “Motherfucker,” he grunts, glancing down at the teenager at his elbow. “What the fuck is this.” Then, he’s stepping up to the hostess. “Cage.” Like she’s supposed to know what /that/ means. Toru was at Trib's place when the boxer was picked up -- by a car service? What the heck is even going on here. But, it's handy enough, since otherwise he'd be up at the other end of the island. The drive to the bar may have resembled a trip with a puppy; it's so seldom that Toru is actually /in/ a car that he gets a little excitable when he does get a chance to ride in one. Arrival at the club has the teen looking around with just about as much displeasure as Trib, though; when Trib asks him what's going on, he just shrugs helplessly himself. "Did you tell him I'm Japanese?" He frowns a little. "'Cause if we're here 'cause he thinks I'm into this shit, man, I might have to smack your boss around a little." Despite his apparent displeasure with the situation, though, he has actually-- dressed up a little, himself! Which for Toru, means cargo shorts and a short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a tank top. And a necklace around his neck, consisting of a set of dog tags with bites taken out of each of them. Cage looks relieved when he sees the two appear at the door. The hostess is indeed baffled by Trib’s greeting/request/who-knows, but Cage half-rises from his seat at the booth, and waves at the guys. Meanwhile, someone is on stage belting her way through The Wind Beneath My Wings. The booth is directly opposite the stage, so if you’re sitting on either side, all you have to do is turn your head to see. Cage settles back down, once he thinks Trib might have spotted him, and takes a swig of his beer. He’s drinking it out of the bottle. He’s not really sure why they brought the empty glass, but whatever. “I didn’t tell him shit about you,” Trib growls, at the question, although there’s no heat directed at Toru. “Except that you exist, an’ we’re a thing, an’ that you were nineteen.” He wrinkles his nose, thunder gathering in his features as the hostess fails in her ability to /know/ things. As he opens his mouth to bark at her, he spies Cage, and closes it tightly. “There he is,” he grunts. The boxer latches a hand on the back of Toru’s neck, then, in an /almost/ tender gesture. It’d be more tender if he wasn’t /hauling/ the teenager along towards Cage’s booth. “Be good,” is his only warning for Toru before they arrive at the booth. Then he’s got nothing but a dark glare for his boss. “I ain’t singin’. You can put that shit right out of your fuckin’ mind.” Toru just looks up at Trib and smirks, murmuring, "I think you might be the one who needs to be told to behave, Trib." One hand goes in to poke the boxer in the side, and while he stumbles a little upon being hauled, he's enough used to being manhandled by Trib that he gets his footing quickly enough. Of course, given some things that have been said lately, the warning may not be /entirely/ unwarranted, because once they arrive at the booth, Toru clambers in before Trib can, to sit between the boxer and the wall, and looks across the table at Cage with an expression that is... less-than-friendly. Not quite /antagonistic/, but it's hardly smiles. "Karaoke bar, seriously?" "Sweet Christmas, kid, who pissed in your cheerios?" Luke shakes his head at Trib's pronouncement, perhaps taking pleasure in someone even more uncomfortable than he is. But… could he be that petty? "Well, I had a duet in mind, but she stole it," Cage says, hooking a thumb at the woman finishing up the Bette Midler cover. He offers a wry grin, and half-stands up in his seat to offer his hand to Toru. "Yeah, why not? Everybody loves karaoke." Like he's /ever/ been in a place like this in his life. "Luke. Nice ta finally meet you." “What did I just say about being good?” Trib growls at Toru as he slides in next to him. “Jesus. This is Bones,” he grunts at Cage, with another lowering of his brow. “Not everyone,” he rumbles about karaoke, giving the woman leaving the stage a dark look. Or maybe it’s for the DJ. Or the crowds. Or just life in general. “This is like...every party I ever fuckin’ avoided in high school. Times fuckin’ /ten/.” Toru takes Cage's hand pleasantly enough, though he does grimace a little under Trib's glare. "Fine, fine." Cage gets a little head-nod before the teen breaks the handshake, adding, "{It's very good to meet you,}" in Japanese, his tone ... pretty sarcastic. However! Uncharacteristically, he actually polices himself this time. "Okay, no, I'm being a dick." He jerks a thumb at Trib. "I just get kinda possessive and I ain't had a chance to like, vent frustration or nothin'." He runs a hand over his hair, exhaling a low sigh, and folds his arms on the table, idly flipping through a menu, but trying to ignore the music going on. "I really don't see this guy singin' without some booze in 'im and with me around, they probably ain't gonna bring any liquor over. This place got good eats?" Luke's eyes glass over a little when he's being spoken to in Japanese, but he holds the gaze anyway. "S'ok… Bones. I deserved that. And I ain't so big I can't admit it." Luke sits back down after the handshake. He nods at Trib's tantrum, "You went to the wrong fuckin' parties, brother…" When the Japanese waitress finally comes by to check on Luke's new table-mates, the observant may notice why Cage picked this place after all. When she blinks, looking at the boys, her eyes are first covered with a quick nictating membrane, before her regular eyelids flick past as well. Noticing that, it might also become clear that she's wearing a good deal of makeup to hide what might be scales behind her ears, and down her neck. It seems Cage has found a 'friendly place'. "Oh gosh, fellas, do I need to see ID's, or-" Cage leans forward with his million-watt smile. "It's cool, Tammy, they're with me. And I made them leave their wallets at home, because dinner's on me. I forgot about ID's." Tammy rolls her eyes at Cage, and then just winks. "Well, if you can't trust Luke Cage, who /can/ you trust?" Luke snorts, but Tammy produces her order pad. "What'll ya have, boys?" Trib relaxes a little when Toru shifts into something less antagonistic, and he flops back in the booth to continue glaring at Cage. Accusingly. Like he did this on /purpose/. “I didn’t go to /no/ parties,” he grunts, sniffing. “On account of they was like /this/.” His eyes crinkle at Toru’s assessment, but he doesn’t correct him. Instead, he splits his attention between Cage and the crowd, both getting an equal amount of scowl. Even poor Tammy gets a scowl, in spite of her ‘friendly’ status. SCOWLS FOR EVERYONE. He snorts when Cage turns on the charm, and rolls his eyes at Toru before closing one in a slow, secret wink. An angry wink, but a wink nonetheless. “Sake,” he grunts at the waitress. “Strongest you got. Two cups.” He doesn’t bother asking what Toru might like; he’s clearly got it covered. “An’ some gyoza,” he adds, glancing over at another table. “Mix ‘em up.” Order delivered, he turns back to Cage. “You gonna sing?” he wants to know, although he asks it in the same tone he’d ask if Cage was casing his house. “Or you just got a thing for fuckin’ awful music?” "Bones," Toru repeats, as Cage says it. It always feels a little weird when other people call him that, despite it being his usual nickname, but he's gotten used to that by now. "Well whatever, I guess we're square now since shit's taken care of, yeah?" He lifts his chin in an upward nod to the older man, flopping back against the bench, arms stretched over the back of it. In start contrast to Trib's glare, Tammy gets a quick, if obvious, look-over from the teen, who flashes her his ~pearly whites~ but doesn't answer her question just yet. Indeed, he has to try /really hard/ not to react to Cage's assurance that he and Trib are legal, and instead his glance is directed to Trib, as if asking for permission to order booze -- and finding the matter covered by the boxer. /Well/ then. "Yeah, that," he just acknowledges Trib's order, glancing at the menu a little more seriously. "And I'll have the negimaki. And, uh.. salmon roll, some tuna, salmon and -- actually two sets of salmon nigiri, some ebi shumai and chicken teriyaki. Actually two salmon rolls, too. And some gyudon." Nodding, as he finishes the order, he seems blissfully unaware of how ridiculous that amount of food sounds. Instead, once ordering is finished, he leans up against Trib's side, looking back over to Cage. "How'd you two hook up, anyway? I think it was before I came around so I never thought to ask." Cage shrugs and gives the young man a hopeful smile when he talks about being ‘square’. “It’s all bygones, right?” When it comes around to ordering, Cage grins ruefully down at his own menu the whole time Toru is rattling off items. Luke just shakes his head, and finally finds the truly gaijin portion of the menu, waaaay down there at the bottom. “Uh, yeah,” he says when Tammy comes to him, “Another one a’ these.” Cage turns the bottle so she can see the Asahi label. “And uh… This,” He points. “The teriyaki chicken. Thanks.” When ordering is said and done, and Tammy’s gone, Luke looks slightly vexed at Toru’s question. “Uh well… We kinda just ran into each other. One day.” He blinks, and looks at Trib for help, obviously not sure how much he should say about his friend’s experience in the cages. Or the bank robbery. “Started talking about boxing… because we both box.” Luke trails off with a pointed look at Trib. “Am I forgetting anything?” “We wasn’t ever not square,” Trib rumbles, his brow lowering. “Just...lopsided, for a bit. Lopsided as fuck.” The big man snorts at Cage’s explanation, blowing air through his lips in a loose raspberry noise. “Fuck the actin’ coy,” he growls at Cage. “I ain’t got no secrets from Bones, an’ it ain’t like he doesn’t know what’s what. He was in the cages with us.” He shifts his weight, then, slinging an arm across the teenager’s shoulders. “Cage is the motherfucker who sprung me an’ a couple of other people, when they tumbled the cages,” he explains further, eyebrows hiking lazily. “Then he offered me a job, so I could get back on my feet.” He flutters the fingers of his half-hand at the detective, and there’s a hard crinkle to his eyes. “Didn’t find out he was a fuckin’ boxer until right before…” he grimaces, and wrinkles his nose. “Well, it was pretty fuckin’ recent.” He lets the story end there, turning his head to glare at the next singer, who is murdering some J-Pop song. Like, /seriously/ murdering it. Someone should call the law. “Jesus Christ,” he rumbles, wincing deeply. “This is fuckin’ inhumane treatment,” he informs Cage, turning his attention back to the older man. “You oughta be brought up on charges of crimes against humanity.” "Lopsided, sure, okay," Toru mumbles, mostly to himself, getting cozy against Trib's side when that arm gets wrapped around him. Confirming the explanation about the cages he adds, by way of explanation, "I probably ain't in any of the videos they been showin' around, I don't do nothin' too flashy so I pretty much just did warmup shit while the place was fillin' up.." With a light frown, he wraps an arm around Trib's back and rests his head in the crook of the larger man's arm. "...I try not to think about it too much." The occasional bad dream has him whimpering in his sleep, not that he'd ever come right out and admit it. After what, to him at least, is a slightly awkward pause, straightens up a little - though with no attempt to leave Trib's side - and clears his throat. "So yeah. Boxin'. He said you two were gonna start workin' out, or started already, or whatever. Don't go too easy on this guy, I'd kinda like to see him getting back into his business sometime." One hand snakes down to poke Trib in the side. Gently! "Maybe he won't be such a fuggin' curmudgeon once he's actually doin' that shit again." Twisting around a little so that he can look up at Trib's face he adds, with a gesture, "It ain't /that/ bad." Pause, frown. "Okay, yeah, it's pretty bad. You guys could go up and do some Sonny and Cher or somethin', though? Raise the bar a little?" "Shit, sorry. Didn't realize you two met in there. And Mr. Secrets over here doesn't tell me shit either." Cage offers a wry grin and lifts his chin in Trib's direction. "In fact," Cage says, leaning forward to create minor conspiracy pose with Toru, neverminding the fact that Trib is wrapped around the smaller man. "I bet you know some pretty good stories about our friend Trib here, huh? Maybe even... /cute/ stories, am I right?" The detective twitches his eyebrows, as if trying to wheedle something out of an informant. "I could make it worth your while..." Cage sits back, grinning like a jackal. "What's the real Trib like? At home I mean." Trib just /glares/. At Cage. At Toru. At the bar in general. All the glares. “Ain’t nothin’ about me /cute/.” Luke’s question gets a wide grin from Toru. Maybe /too/ wide. “Stories, huh?” he muses thoughtfully, leaning in closer to the man across the table, playing along with conspiratorial pose and making an expression that /usually/ is followed by a verbal lashing from the subject of their discussion. “Well, there /is/ this one thing he does…” the teen waggles his eyebrows, but he’s apparently also aware of the fact that Trib really does seem kind of irritated with the whole situation, because this promising lead is followed by, “...but if you wanna find out about it, you’re gonna have to start datin’ him yourself.” A stern nod, there. “And seein’ as how you’d have to get through me to do that, I don’t see that happenin’ any time soon.” Leaning back against the bench, again, he turns his upper body so that he’s facing Trib, tugging at the boxer’s shirt gently. “Hey, don’t be all mad, babe, this place ain’t that bad.” And, lowering his voice just a touch, “And that thing you do /is/ cute. In a Trib kinda way.” He’s not going to specify, though. Luke smiles warmly, perhaps even just at the revelation that Trib does /something/ cute. He holds both hands up at Bones's suggestion, yet grinning. "Well for one, Trib isn't really /my/ type. Two, he seems like more trouble to keep around." He shrugs at Trib and adds, "Sorry, no offense brother." He turns back to Toru. "But mostly, I doubt I could take you, Bones. Shorter guys always fight like a demon." He just shrugs, as if he's delivered some scientifically proven fact. The next singer looks like a boring and bored middle aged businessman, but when he launches into his chosen Roy Orbison track, his voice is smooth, and confident. "Wow," Cage says, "this guuy is pretty good..." He's looking at the stage with a new eye. Sonny and Cher is probably beyond him, but still. The wheels are turning. Trib’s grunt at Toru’s start of his story is probably a warning, and his brow lowers just a touch. The fact that it’s a false alarm does nothing to alleviate this expression, and he tightens the arm around Toru. “He’s got a lot of fuckin’ fight in him,” he rumbles, confirming Cage’s suspicion. “Maybe I’ll bring him to one of our workouts an’ let him go monkey-fuck on your ass.” /This/ gets a crinkle of the big man’s eyes, but it’s a fleeting thing. When the new singer launches into Roy Orbison, Trib’s attention drifts back to the stage. “Yeah, he ain’t bad,” he grunts, some of the tension melting out of his frame. Maybe music /does/ have charms to soothe the savage beast. Or maybe he’s spotted Tammy, who is beelining for their table with their drinks. "What, so now I'm fuckin' short?" Toru is /just/ about to get riled up, but-- oh right, he's supposed to be behaving. He also seems to have forgotten that he's ten inches shorter than the /next/ shortest person here, so. Well. Trib's arm tightening around him has the effect both of settling him down, and eliciting a wide, goofy grin from the teen. "I fight dirty, though," he adds, warningly. "On accounta bein' /short/." When he spies Tammy himself, that grin fades a little, in an attempt to look a little more /adult/ and less. Goofy. He'll wait for the drinks to be dropped off before turning to Cage again, a sudden thoughtful look on his face. "Y'know, I didn't think he was my type either." Eyebrows are lifted meaningfully, there. "But he kinda has a way of growin' on you." He pauses there, frowning. "Not that I'm tryin' to push him off on ya." Lifting his hands in fisticuffs posture, he frowns a little. /Playfully/, this time. "Just, y'know. Stuff gets weird sometimes." Cage looks like he has his own playful, yet biting retort, but he shuts up and sits back, grinning like the Cheshire Cat while Tammy sets the drinks down. When that's done, she pulls a small tablet device out of the back of her apron, and holds it out. "You boys want a songlist?" "Yeah, but what the fuck is that?" Cage asks, laughing goodnaturedly. "Shut up, you old fart, and pick out a song." Tammy sets the device down with a wink and a grin, and fades off to see to her other tables. Cage snakes a hand out quick to snap up the device. He holds it up and starts scrolls, eyebrows going up, and back down again in furrows as he considers his options. Without looking up, he asks, "Bones, you want your man to sing you a song, dontcha? A' course you do. Ok Trib, you heard him, your man wants you to sing him a song. So you got two choices: one, you can sing Alicia Keys's part on Empire State of Mind, because I'm pretty sure you can't pull off no Jay-Z. Or two, you can sing this with me." Luke sets the device on the table and spins it around so the guys can read it. It's set to a song called 'I Got Stripes' by Johnny Cash and George Jones. The screen has a big green button on the bottom labeled "Queue Duet". "You in or what?" Cage sits back. Challenge made. “Cage has his own girl,” Trib grunts, for Toru’s edification. “He don’t need my ass eatin’ him out of house an’ home.” He wrinkles his nose, offering Tammy a tight smile as she drops off the drinks and the tablet. He pours sake into the cups as Cage reviews the song choices, and nudges one towards Toru. Then he lifts his own cup to his lips, sipping at the liquid and glaring at Cage as the detective begins to plan out the gig. At the choices, he snorts deeply, and goes back to GLARING. “The fuck you on about?” he growls, furrowing his brow and leaning forward. “I ain’t fuckin’ singing,” he says flatly. “An’ I /sure/ as fuck ain’t singing no Alicia Keys or Johnny fuckin’ /Cash/.” He releases his hold around Toru to grab at the tablet, sliding it to himself with a frown. “Let me see that fuckin’ thing.” Now it’s his turn to slide fingers and poke at menu buttons, frowning ever deeper at the song selection. With Trib's arm removed from his shoulders, Toru pushes himself up against the wall-side of the bench, folding his legs up underneath himself and pulling over one of those empty sake glasses, toying with it idly but not actually reaching for the booze just yet. Instead he just watches the two men bickering over the song selection, barely managing to contain an eyeroll, and sort of half-looking at the tablet while Trib has it, without actually making it obvious that he's looking. While he's doing that, though, he does add as an aside to Cage, "We.. ain't really that kinda couple, dude." He then pauses, frowning thoughtfully for a moment, but the expression fades into a blushing smile. Which he quickly attempts to force away with-- an exaggeratedly irate expression. GRR. Though eventually the two equal out into normal Toruface. "Trib ain't kidding, though, guy's got a /huge/ appetite," Toru adds, casually; now he does lift himself a little to look over his boxer's shoulder, addressing Cage but looking at the tablet. "Especially after y'all have your workouts, he comes home and I spend the rest of the day cooking. I ain't no master chef or nothin'," he hastens to add, "but apparently I'm a fast learner when I have to be." "Ok, ok," Luke says, hands up as he sits back in his side of the booth. "Can't force anyone to have a good time." He grins and takes a swig of his Asahi. "But never let it be said that Luke Cage isn't willing to embarrass himself. Besides, the food should be here by the time I get back." And with no further preamble, Luke slides out of the booth and cuts straight for the stage as Roy Orbison lite is wrapping up. The MC on stage is about to call the next name on his tablet when Luke reaches up and tugs the top of the tablet down so the MC is looking down at Luke in front of the stage. They exchange a brief muttered conversation, they shake hands (during which a trained eye would notice Luke slipping the man some greenbacks, and then the man is inviting Luke up on stage. "Next up, we have Luke, singing the timeless classic, A Boy Named Sue, by Johnny Cash." Luke removes the microphone from the stand, and steps to keep one eye on the prompter, but once he gets started, it becomes pretty clear that he doesn't really need to see the lyrics. Luke's voice is rough around the edges, flat in places, but ultimately his basso matches Cash's well. Before long, he's clapping and toe tapping, and even getting some of the audience into the song, if only with sheer charisma rather than any real talent at singing. Trib chokes on his sake, when Toru makes his casual remark, and -- oh, look -- he’s got another glare for the teenager. “I’m thinkin’ about goin’ on a diet,” he growls warningly, directing his attention to the tablet. When Luke excuses himself, Trib watches him go with a dark expression. “Did he just imply I was a wet fuckin’ blanket?” he rumbles, his brow furrow deepening as he punches his fingers at the tablet. The sound of Cage /singing/, though, has his attention back on the stage. He might almost seem impressed, if he looked happier. “Oh, /fuck/ no,” he growls, his eyes narrowing before he bends over the tablet, punching in a selection and sending it before he slumps back in his seat, glaring some more. “He ain’t that bad,” he notes, after a moment. “Got shit taste in music, but it ain’t bad.” Toru withers a little, under Trib's glare - even before that warning! - and just sort of. Looks awkward, for a minute! Until Luke strolls off to the stage, at least, at which point he pushes himself up to loop his arms around Trib's neck, loosely, and tuck his head in to plant a quick little kiss on the boxer's cheek. Public displays of affection! "Yeah, he ain't bad. I mean, I ain't much of a Johnny Cash or whatever fan either. But he ain't bad." He shifts a little bit, to strengthen a grip that was already starting to falter, and casually adds, "You /have/ been bein' pretty sour since we got here, though. And you know it's bad when I'm the one sayin' that." Here, he releases that grip, sliding back down to the seat, but still content to lean against Trib - arms sort of draped around the larger man's abdomen. "I'm sorry about the food shit, I was just tryin' to make you laugh. I'll behave; just... stop actin' like we're at yer funeral or somethin'. We can go after food if you’re really havin’ that bad a time, but I ain't leavin' without my negimaki." Cage finishes his song with an improvised flourish similar to how Cash traditionally finished Sue, and hops down off the stage. Several people down front are laughing good naturedly, and clapping for him. It’s not like he’ll ever be America’s Idol, but he made the performance /fun/. The many layers of Luke Cage. He begins to make his way back to the table, but he’s beaten by Tammy with huge tray held over her head with one hand. She exhibits a preternatural grace at one point, avoiding a patron who didn’t look before scooting back his chair. At least he looked chagrined at the near miss. She finally wends her way to the table, and cuts off Cage as she sets out the folding stand, and lands the tray down on it. Cage smirks at the block, and Tammy calls over her shoulder, “Too slow, Sue! You hafta wait.” She grins as she lays everything out. She offers a final wink to the big man on her way back to the kitchen, and then she’s gone. Luke rolls his eyes and slides into the booth with a sigh. “Sorry guys, I know Cash probably isn’t your thing. I just had that song stuck in my head the last few days. Figured that would rattle it loose.” He chuckles and turns his teriyaki chicken plate clockwise, then counter clockwise, perhaps forming a plan of attack. “I saw you lookin at the thing over here though, Trib. You thinkin about singing something?” Trib’s glare is replaced by a rueful sort of smirk when Toru calls him out, and he wrinkles his nose. “I just hate these kinds of places,” he says. “I guess it ain’t /that/ bad, though.” He even offers something more smile-like. When the teenager apologizes, he snorts. “Cage ain’t the /fastest/ detective in the world, but he’da cracked your code, an’ I ain’t keen on havin’ him picture us.../eatin’/.” The twist of his torso might loosen Toru’s embrace as the boxer turns to applaud for Cage. He watches as the detective makes his way to the table, and offers an actual /grin/, hard as it is, when Tammy cuts him off. On the outside, he’s happy to help the waitress distribute the plates, waiting until she’s gone again to answer Cage. “You had that song stuck in your head?” he echoes, his tone mildly horrified. “Jesus. My sympathies, man.” He reaches for a gyoza, actually flashing teeth in the grin he has for Cage’s question. “I’m goin’ to do somethin’,” he says, before shoving the dumping in his mouth and talking around the mouthful. “Can’t let you hog all the fuckin’ attention.” "Whatever, man, I'm a master code maker," Toru notes to Trib, matter-of-factly. But, he drops the matter there, especially now that food has finally arrived, and when his mountain of food shows up he sets about to-- divvying it up between himself and Trib. The boxer gets half of the sushi and most of the shrimp shumai, while he keeps the negimaki and gyudon for himself. "See here I am havin' to order for you. Gyoza, jeez," he shakes his head, good-naturedly, and as he takes up his chopsticks he mumbles, "Itadakimasu," under his breath. And proceeds to start going to town on that negimaki. Seriously, it's ridiculous. He gets a few pieces down and has one held in the chopsticks as he realizes what Trib actually /said/. "Yeah, you're gonna sing?" He raises his eyebrows, grinning widely - and there's even more warmth than jest to that grin. He also apparently suddenly realizes how much food he actually has, because suddenly he's leaning forward toward Cage, gesturing towards the tuna and shrimp items on his spread. "You want some of this? That stuff--" he points to the shumai with his chopsticks, "--is just steamed shrimp, so it's cooked, but try the tuna stuff." A gesture to that. "It's good, you just gotta get used to it." “Hey, alright!” Cage says, when Trib says he’ll sing. He cuts a piece of chicken with fork and knife, pops it into his mouth, and listens to Toru explain about the different dishes. Cage is openly dubious, but looks over Toru’s offers with a critical eye. Finally, he spears one of each item. He’s about to ask another question, when Toru says his version of ‘grace’. The detective likes to play dumb so often, it can be a little off-putting when he gets that penetrating look in his eye. “Wait, what was that there - eat-a-ducky - what? That like a… like grace, in Japanese or something?” Cage forks another bite of chicken into his mouth, and washes it down with some beer. “Yeah, you’re a regular fuckin’ spy,” Trib rumbles at Toru’s statement, crinkling his eyes as the teenager begins divvying up the food. “Maybe I planned on you orderin’, an’ forgetting the fuckin’ appetizers,” he teases right back, reaching out to snag a piece of negimaki from Toru’s plate. Because he CAN. The surprise the announcement of his plan to sing gets earns a snort from the boxer. “Yeah, I’m goin’ to sing,” he says, popping the negimaki in his mouth and chewing briefly before chasing it down with a slug of sake. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Probably should have done it before you ate.” Oddly, Cage's question has Toru looking a bit self-conscious; he lowers his head a smidge and sort of mumbles, though loud enough to be heard over the rest of the room's din, "It's just a thing you sorta. Say. Before eating. Is 'grace' what you say in English? That ain't any less weird." The way he's asking, he may actually not know the answer. He also realizes he hasn't actually poured himself anything to drink, and while Trib is swiping food, he reaches over to grab the sake bottle, filling his glass up, then leaning back and sipping it slowly. And he sets about to munching on some of his sushi, focusing on that for a moment - apparently he actually is pretty hungry - before moving on to the gyudon. Giving Trib a nudge in the ribs he remarks, between mouthfuls, "Just don't do nothin' too cheesy. I don't wanna lose my lunch, it's been a while since I've had Japanese." “Hey,” Luke says. “No warning necessary. Karaoke is /supposed/ to fuckin’ suck.” He laughs and tosses back the shrimp Toru had suggested. He starts out chewing quickly, planning on wolfing it down, and then his eyebrows go up and he pauses chewing. He makes eye contact with Toru, nods and makes a surprised but approving grunt. He chews a little more carefully and washes it down with his Asahi. “Shit, Bones, that ain’t bad,” Luke admits. “So, people… just eat raw fish, huh?” He eyes the tuna roll next, a little less suspicious. He picks it up with his fingers and pops the whole thing in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Finally he nods, and washes it down with more beer, finishing the Asahi. “Trib. I like this guy, he’s fuckin’ smart. I see why you’re with him.” He grins and holds up his empty where Tammy can see it. When she nods at him from across the room, he sets it down again. “So what’re you singin, man?” Trib smirks, although it’s not clear what it’s in response to: Toru’s warning, Luke’s assessment of the state of karaoke, or the detective’s discovery of delicious shrimp. “It probably won’t make you /too/ sick,” he assures Toru, grabbing up a California roll and shoving it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he watches the stage. “I ain’t singin’ nothin’ cheesy,” he promises, wrinkling his nose at Cage. “It probably ain’t goin’ to be that much of a surprise, either.” His arm gets draped along the back of the bench, and he grunts a laugh at Cage. “Yeah, he’s probably too smart for his own good,” he agrees. “But he grows on you. An’ he’s trainable.” Pointing his chopsticks at Luke, Toru replies, pointedly, "A hundred million people can't be wrong, yeah?" To illustrate his point, he sets down the chopsticks and picks up one of the pieces of salmon sushi, in his hands, and shoves it into his mouth. While he's chewing on it, Luke makes that remark about his being smart, and he makes a slightly puzzled expression. Washing his food down with a glug of sake, Trib's affirmation of Luke's assessment gets another slightly puzzled expression from the teen, who proceeds to finish off his negimaki and lean back for another glug of sake-- followed by a near-choke at Trib's last comment. He manages not to do so too violently, though it is followed by a brief coughing fit, which he soothes with another drink. The glass is set down, and he just gives the boxer a /look/, asiding to Cage, "Is he this cocky when I ain't around?" Cage grins all through Trib’s explanation, and nods his thanks to Tammy when she breezes by with his beer. He also snap-points when Toru makes his point about the hundred million people to show his agreement. Luke was about to take a swig when Toru’s coughing fit comes on. Then his eyes go wide at Toru’s question, and he sets his bottle down. “What? Are you kidding? He’s /worse/. Way worse. We should have you around more often, Bones.” Luke holds his beer up and waits to clink with the sake cups. “To new friends,” he adds cheerfully. “What?” Trib says to Toru at that look, eyebrows hiking. “You point out the lie, an’ I’ll take it back.” He crinkles his eyes, and lifts his drink in salute to the teenager. Which means it’s in the air and handy for clinking against Cage’s bottle. “Jesus,” he says to the toast. “You are one eloquent motherfucker.” The pull of his smile to one side of his face is warm, though, and he snugs the arm around Toru’s shoulders into an easy curl. Then the MC is taking the stage, saying goodbye to the girl who just murdered the theme to Sailor Moon in Japanese and holding up his tablet. “Wasn’t she great, ladies and gentlemen? Now please put your hands together for a newcomer to Japas 38 -- Retribution Jones.” He pauses, peering at the screen. “Really? ‘Retribution’? Guess we know what he’ll be singing!” The joke draws a laugh from the crowd, but not Trib as he releases his hold and pushes to his feet. “I’m goin’ to make him eat that fuckin’ tablet,” he growls, wiping at his face with his napkin and tossing it on the table, nodding at the other two men. “Right. Here I go. Don’t say I didn’t fuckin’ warn you.” Toru lifts his glass for the toast, though he's still got that look on his face. Nevertheless he soldiers on, waving a hand dismissively at Cage. "Eh, maybe sometime. I already take up enough of Trib's personal time, I don't gotta go shovin' myself in with his other stuff too." With this, and also in response to Trib's remark about pointing out the lie, he gives the boxer another prod in the ribs, but apparently he isn't /too/ annoyed, since he's all too eager to nestle against the man's side when that arm is curled around him. When he gets up to sing, though, Toru detaches easily enough, giving Trib's arm a little squeeze before the larger man heads off to the stage. He does look a /bit/ worried about something, but opts not to voice his concerns; instead he leans across the table towards Cage, gesturing with a hand as he takes up one of the last pieces of sushi to chomp on it thoughtfully. "I ain't bein' too mooky or nothin', am I? I kinda tend to get all like." Another gesture, there, and he takes a sip from his sake. "Clingy, I guess. If it's too gross just say somethin'." Cage chokes back a laugh at the announcer’s joke, and gives Trib a sincere thumbs-up. “Knock em dead, kid.” He grins like a demon and watches him head for the stage. Luke also gives Toru an indulgent nod regarding the business. “Oh, I figured. Couples… in business together… that doesn’t usually work out so well.” He shrugs and grins. Cage adds conspiratorially after Trib has left, “And hey man, ‘clingy’ isn’t any of my business. It’s only a problem if he doesn’t like it. And he really doesn’t seem to mind.” The detective was clunky and ungraceful when when he learned about Trib’s orientation, but he seems to be taking it in stride well enough now. Trib offers a tight-lipped smile before he turns and heads for the stage, muttering something to the MC when he gets there. The MC furrows his brow, and the mike picks up his voice as he responds. “‘Trib’? What kind of name is that?” Which gets a very dangerous look from the boxer that goes unnoticed as the other man addresses the audience. “Let’s give it up for Retribution Jones!” Trib takes the microphone, and steps to the middle of the stage, eyes locking on the monitor as soon as he’s landed in his spot. When the music starts, it’s a slow, oh-so-familiar piano riff that seems to surprise Trib, and his brow slams into a deep furrow. He holds the mike away from himself to address the MC, but the man either /can’t/ hear him or is pretending not to. So, Trib is stuck with the song that’s playing, and he comes in just a beat behind the music, singing a bit fast to get on melody. “I can’t fight this feeling any longer. And yet I’m still afraid to let it show….” Yes. The ex-boxer is up there singing REO Speedwagon. And, contrary to prior press, he’s actually pretty good. His voice is a raw and untrained baritone, but there’s definitely something to it. He doesn’t look /happy/ to be singing Speedwagon, but he’s doing it pretty well, considering the song isn’t in his key. "I should hope he doesn't have a fuckin' problem with it seein' as how he's my /boyfriend/ and all," Toru notes, casually; there's no malice in his tone, but there is a definite /firmness/. "And I didn't mean like, literal business, I just mean..." He shrugs vaguely. "I lo--/like/ him, and all, but if we do everything together sooner 'r later one of us is gonna go nuts. Y'know?" Turning in his seat to face Cage more properly, though he keeps sort of turning his head towards the stage to watch Trib - almost the way a parent watches their child on a playground - he adds, "He said somethin' 'bout you havin' a girlfriend, you wouldn't want her attached to you all the time, yeah?" Eyebrows are raised meaningfully at the end of that question, and then Toru turns his attention to the stage more properly. He's really only half-paying attention to the song itself - it isn't one he's familiar with at all - but is more interested in just watching Trib perform. Then he starts actually listening to the lyrics. Very gradually, Toru's cheeks gain a rosy glow, and as the song progresses, he finds himself sinking lower and lower on the bench, stricken by the egocentric presumption that every eye in the room must be pointed directly at him right now. Legs are folded up to his chest as he mumbles, not really caring whether or not it's actually /audible/, "He /really/ loves to do this shit, doesn't he." Cage raises an eyebrow when the song starts, and then outright /grins/ when he sees Trib and realizes it wasn’t what the younger man had ordered. For some reason this seems to give the detective some amount of amusement. Luke is mid-shrug in regard to Toru’s explanation, and doesn’t even twitch at the near-miss with the L-word. He /does/ twitch however, with eyebrows marching up to where his hair used to be when Toru mentions his ‘girlfriend’. “Did he /really/?” Luke asks rhetorically. “Yeah, well we aren’t really labeled yet, but I haven’t dated anyone in a /long/ time, so no, I don’t think I’d mind some public hugs and whatnot. But then, public figures got public image to worry about. I dunno, Bones. Or, I mean, I wouldn’t know, cuz it hasn’t happened yet.” He smiles and sips at his beer. Cage looks from Toru to Trib, and back again, and just nods without further comment. The big man is a hopeless romantic, and anyone who knows him, knows that. He’s not gonna /cry/, but love songs get him every time, especially when there’s something real behind it. “And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window, On a cold, dark winter's night….” Trib’s expression doesn’t lighten, despite the genuine emotion in his voice. Nope. This is going to be the glariest love song ever glared. The big man does put his /heart/ into it, even managing the key change with only the smallest of bobbles. He ignores the people next to the stage -- or maybe he’s trying not to kick them. It’s hard to tell from his expression, which is trained on the booth, and the slowly melting Toru. Maybe it’s the song, or the way the teenager is slumped, but Trib’s voice increases in volume, and he leans out over the crowd just a bit. “And I can’t fight this feeling anymore….” For the moment, Toru is a little preoccupied with trying to get over the feeling of intense, nonexistent scrutiny. Trib leaning forward doesn't help much! Finally, he tries just turning way from him to face Cage again, and while his face is still burning with that blush he nonetheless replies, nonchalantly, "Well I don't mean like that, I just mean like..." He pauses, then, frowning. "...actually I think I mighta worked out what the problem is. I don't really got much in the way of /friends/ outside-a Trib, so it might just be that I spend more time with him than you do with your lady." He's still pretty puddly, though, despite his attempt to rectify that, but if nothing else he's slid his legs down away from his chest again, to lay along the bench to warm up Trib's seat for when he gets back. And a sudden thought has apparently occurred to him since, while he is once again watching Trib, he leans towards Cage again to ask, curiously, "Actually while he's up there, this is gonna sound kinda weird but has he ever talked about like, shit he wants or needs? Like boxing shit or whatever? I think eventually he's gonna have a birthday and I figure I should think about gettin' somethin' for it." Luke nods quietly, certainly not one to judge one's insular habits. He nods when Toru mentions birthdays though. "Hey, that's not a bad idea. And I'm pretty sure I could look that up, if you need the date. But one thing I can think of, is that our boy is gettin' back in the ring sometime soon, and he needs proper gear. Gloves, trunks, etc. It can get kinda pricey, but entry level stuff isn't so bad. Just one idea." Luke shrugs and smiles. “And if I have to crawl upon the floor, Come crashing through your door, Baby, I can’t fight this feeling anymore!” Trib finishes the song with a sudden slide into a high note and holds it for a long moment before he ends the song and bows before he SHOVES the microphone back at the MC and heads back to the table. Upon arriving, he merely reaches down to lift Toru’s legs and slide underneath them, slumping heavily in the booth. “Well, /that/ was a bunch of horseshit.” “Gloves, huh?” Toru nods slowly. “I guess I sorta assumed he had some in storage somewhere, but I ain’t seen any around his place and.. well, it ain’t that big a place.” He rubs his cheeks thoughtfully, eventually giving a slow nod. “Good place to start at, anyway.” When Trib finishes singing, even despite having acted like he was so terribly humiliated by the entire performance, Toru still applauds /possibly/ a bit louder than anyone else in the room. Possibly due to enthusiasm, possibly for revenge, it’s impossible to tell. And he aids Trib in draping his legs over the boxer’s lap, using them to scoot himself up closer to the man, and he leans in to grab one arm in a hug. “You know, Trib,” he notes, tone full of exaggerated wistfulness, “if you felt that way about Cage all this time you coulda said somethin’ earlier. It’s disappointin’, but you know I just want you to be happy.” Squeeze. Big smile. Trib grunts as Toru scoots closer to him, and his brow lowers just a bit /more/ at the tease. He narrows his eyes across the table, and wrinkles his nose. “I don’t think Cage is into it,” he rumbles. “My tits ain’t big enough.” Luke shakes his head at Trib's assessment of the song. "Shit man, if that was /bad/ I'd hate to see you on your game. This place would go nuts." He grins quietly at Toru's teasing, and nods at Trib's assessment. "What can I say? I like some wiggle in the walk." Luke leans forward and punches Trib in the shoulder, sudden enthusiasm clear on his face. "/Fuck/ but this was fun! We gotta do this again sometime." Either Cage is entirely oblivious to what a 'good time' Trib had here, or he's a total sadist. "I've heard some people do songs according to dares." Cage grins and sits back again, content.