I was asking for prompts a while ago and I ended up drawing AND writing… gomen I haven’t written in a really long time, please forgive
Okuyasu curses under his breath. It’s just his luck to run into trouble in the middle of a part of the city he’s unfamiliar with. He had just wanted to take a leisurely ride, something to clear his head of confusing thoughts. He had forgotten to charge his phone as well, leaving him unable to make a call. Not that anyone would help him out anyway. He didn’t have any friends to begin with.
A rumble in the distance startles him. He swears again as he guides his motorcycle down a dirt path with houses on each side. He knows asking for help looking like he does (black leather jacket and intimidating face scar and all), will get him nowhere, so he keeps his eyes open for a shop, a cafe, any kind of store that would be willing to let him use the phone.
Something finally catches his eye. It’s not a shop of any kind, but a single person working in their open garage. The man looks in his early 20’s and sports a hairstyle just as wild as Okuyasu, a perfectly coifed pompadour. Okuyasu slows his pace down, walking forward until he can see what the other is working on.
Okuyasu breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of the man with a wrench in his hand and a small flashlight in the other. He’s inspecting an engine, crouching down in such a way that his hands and knees don’t make contact with the tarp beneath his feet. Okuyasu raises an eyebrow when he realizes the other looks impeccably clean for someone working on an engine. But he can’t afford to be picky now as the rumbling in the sky grows louder behind him.
"You need something?"
He jumps a bit, startled from being called upon. “I… uh…”
The man tilts to the side and then up, trying to see past his hair at Okuyasu.
"Nice ride," he says with an appreciative nod towards the bike.
"Thanks. I-I’ve had it for a long time. I’d get a new one but, y’know, I’m trying to save."
"Yeah, I feel ya… "
Okuyasu scratches the back of his head. He’s never been in a situation like this, having to seek help from a stranger.
"I, um, couldn’t help but notice you working, uh…"
"Josuke," the other says, wiping his hand clean before extending a hand. "Josuke Higashikata."
"Okuyasu." He shakes Josuke’s hand firmly. A single drop of water chooses to fall on his palm at that exact moment.
Both men look down at it, then up at each other.
"Hm, rain," Josuke muses, angling his head towards the sky.
Okuyasu withdraws, placing his hand on his bike handle. “This may seem kinda forward, but you… you wouldn’t happen to know anything about a ride like mine, would you?”
"As in, how it runs?"
"More like, how to make it run." Okuyasu flashes an embarrassed grin, his other hand reach back again to scratch at the nape of his neck. "Sorry man, you just looked like you knew what you were doing there and I’m kinda stuck-"
"That’s an understatement," Josuke chuckles. "That bit about me knowing what I’m doing, not about you being stuck, I mean. I’m a mechanic."
Okuyasu breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes. “Tha-That’s awesome! You look way young to be a mechanic.”
Josuke shrugs sheepishly. “We look about the same age.”
"Well, yeah. But you’re a mechanic and all I have going for me is my bike and that’s not even working now."
"Ah, speaking of which," He reaches out, grabbing hold of Okuyasu’s motorcycle gently, "Let’s get this under cover before those clouds catch up to us. Besides, you don’t look much like a rain kind of guy."
Okuyasu gives his small pomp a pat and points back, flashing a bright smile “Neither do you, man. At least we have that in common.”
"Hey Okuyasu, I’m finished!"
Josuke enters his lounge where he left the other man. He spots Okuyasu over by his shelves admiring his collection, and is surprised when their eyes meet and Okuyasu looks as though he’s about to cry.
"W-Whoa, did something happen?" Josuke asks, briskly walking over to the other’s side.
"You have so many games!"
"I guess?" Josuke doesn’t move, letting Okuyasu cry on his shoulder while pointing at his shelf of thirty-some-odd cartridges. It’s a little strange to him. He’s never had a grown man cry on him, or around him, let alone someone he just met a half hour ago.
"I play that one at the arcade all the time! And that one just came out a month ago! I’m so jealous!"
He doesn’t know what possesses him to ask. So maybe Okuyasu’s unabashed enthusiasm for one of his favourite past times catches him off guard; a stranger’s a stranger and Josuke has had his fair share of unwarranted jerks hanging around his place, but though he has every right to be wary, he can’t help but ask.
"You wanna play a bit before you leave?"
"Shit, how late is it?" Okuyasu drops his controller and apologizes swiftly before checking his watch. "I have to get home. My dad is gonna be pissed at me for sure."
Josuke shuts off the game system and cocks his head. “You have a curfew?”
Okuyasu contorts his face a bit, searching for the right explanation. “Not a curfew… but I- we kind of got in a fight, that’s why I was out here in the first place, to clear my head.”
"Nothing I haven’t dealt with before," he says with a wave of his hand. "Look, I… I’m pretty happy I got to meet you, Josuke. Really happy, actually. You’re a cool guy and you have good tastes. If my bike ever breaks down again, I’ll know who I can call."
He doesn’t know what to say. In the back of his head, Josuke runs through the days odd events, how he played video games for four hours with a virtual stranger. How that stranger honestly looks like the last person someone living alone should invite into their house without a second thought. But he can’t process it fast enough. He reaches for his cell that’s tucked away in his back pocket, holds it up in plain sight for the other to see.
"I have a phone," he states blankly.
Okuyasu blinks, unmoving.
Josuke’s feels his face heat up. He must sound like a total noodle. “If- If you need my number, is what I’m saying. For calling. In case you need to… call.”
"Oh!" A wide grin finally greets him. "Yeah, let’s do it, man!"
They exchange numbers, both grinning from ear to ear.
"Goddamn, finally a contact that isn’t a family member. Answering my phone won’t be such a chore now."
"Dude, I’m your first? I don’t know how to feel about that," Josuke laughs, not even bothered when he realizes he could have phrased that better.
"If your racing skills are anything to go by, you better feel good about it. I’ve never seen someone get schooled so hard in Mario Kart."
"How was I supposed to know you were a seasoned veteran? Next time, I won’t go so easy on you."
"Next time," Okuyasu says as he revs his motorcycle up. "Maybe I’ll go easy on you, y’know, for making my baby purr again like new."
"You better not. See ya later, Okuyasu."
Josuke continues to wave with a smile plastered on his face. “Next time,” he repeats to himself. “See you then, buddy.”