It's horrible, of course. First times always are, Junno finds – at least when it comes to sex.
Other first times can be pretty great.
Like the first time Junno stands on a stage. He's so nervous he gets the hiccups half-way through the play, but he remembers all his lines perfectly, even the ones he always forgot during rehearsals. And later, his mom assures him that real samurai guards got hiccups, too. So it was actually a plus, in terms of realism.
The best part is that his mom and his big sister have seats right in the front of the school's auditorium, and he can see them out of the corners of his eyes while he's guarding his daimyo. And the other best part is that afterwards, they all go out for Korean barbecue, and Junno gets to eat as much grilled beef as he wants. He feels a little queasy afterwards, but it's totally worth it.
Standing on stage in a papier mâché armor that's too big for him, shaken by hiccups and jittery with nerves and exhilaration, with his mom and his big sister smiling at him proudly. That's the moment when he knows that this is what he wants to do. He wants to be up on stage, making people smile and be happy. He wants to do something so people can forget about being stressed and sad and tired, even just for an hour or two.
Yeah. That's a pretty amazing first, all right.
The first roasted sweet potato in winter, bought from a street vendor and eaten with awkward, gloved fingers. Breaking it open to watch a hot cloud of steam rise into frosty air. Burning the roof of your mouth with the first too-incautious bite, and laughing at your own impatience. Letting the potato warm your palms, and your mouth, and your stomach.
Even better: Having someone buy you that first sweet potato and then watch you eat it, his own potato forgotten in his hands.
But that comes much later. First things first.
Having sex with someone for the first time is… well. Basically, it's like biting through a bitter candy shell to get to the delicious chocolate center: A necessary step on the way to something wonderful.*
"Awkward" is Junno's preferred term to describe the step in question. Other people have called it "I should get going" and "I'm pretty busy this week, but I'll call you as soon as I have time". Then there are various variations of "you're a nice guy, and I like you a lot, but…". And, of course, his all-time non-favorite, the tearful "oh my god I messed it all up, why can't I ever do anything right, I'm so sorry".**
At the beginning, Junno assumed that starting with inevitable awkwardness was just the way sex worked. Even now he doesn't understand how other people can possibly get everything right straight off the bat. It's like everyone except Junno is some kind of telepath. After all, when you're with someone new, how can you know what they enjoy? How they like to be touched, kissed, made love to?
Finding out about that is what the first time's for. You learn your new lover's body and heart, their likes and dislikes, turn-ons and turn-offs… attune yourself to their own individual melodies and rhythms. The only way it works is as a trial and error thing, and it takes a bit of doing.
It does for Junno, anyway.
It's fine, though. He can deal with awkward; it's just the once, after all. There's nothing awkward about having sex with someone for the second time, or any time after that. Quite the contrary.
Getting to the second time isn't always so easy, of course. And then there's the fact that Junno is pretty much always in love when he goes to bed with someone.
He's in love with Kazuya, too.
* That's just an analogy. Junno doesn't know any candy like that, probably because no one would buy it if they had a choice about it.
** Since then, Junno's been careful to pick lovers with plenty of self-confidence. It increases the "I like you, but it's over"-ratio even more, but being dumped is still better than making someone miserable.
Junno doesn't remember when he first looked at his watch and found that – by random chance – it was exactly 11:11 o'clock.
He doesn't remember, but it must have been awesome.
The first time he calls Kame "Kazuya", he gets a short, odd look from narrowed eyes, but nothing more.
It's a bit of a let-down, truth be told. Junno'd expected more of a reaction… a hint of startlement, perhaps. Or a smile. Yes, one of those wryly amused, crooked smiles Kazuya gives him sometimes, the ones that say you're a weirdo, and I like that about you.
Junno wishes he could remember the first time Kazuya smiled at him like that, but he can't. It was a long time ago, and he must not have been paying proper attention.
"It was you, wasn't it? Admit it already!"
Jin glares at Junno and mutters something incomprehensible that probably doesn't mean a thing, even to Jin himself. It's like the man is six years old.
What is this, a kindergarten trip? Someone who spills a carton of cream needs to clean up the mess. That's just basic manners, an absolute minimum of consideration.
Except that Mr Sulky Slob disagrees, judging by his scowl. And by the fact that the damn cream is still all over the floor.
"We all know it was you. Nobody else puts that stuff in their coffee." They're six people, cooped up in an endless string of hotel rooms that would be crowded for three. They're overworked, tired and on edge, and several weeks of the tour still lie ahead. Jin really needs to start making some kind of an effort. "You can't just pretend it's none of your business. You're old enough to take responsibility –"
This is the point at which Jin tries to kick him.
It's not the first time Junno's in a fight. Far from it; he's been the new kid in a whole bunch of schools, and he's always been too tall, too talkative and too prone to joking around to escape the notice of bullies. After the first time, he's been prepared.
He's fast, agile, and strong – nobody ever evades in time. Jin is no exception.
"Hey! What the fuck?" Jin looks comically surprised, all round eyes and open mouth. "Let go of my leg, you fucker!"
He doesn't, of course. Jin loses his balance almost immediately and starts flailing his arms and hopping frantically on his one free leg, trying not to fall on his ass.
It's one of the silliest things Junno has ever seen; he really can't help laughing. For a moment or two Jin flails and hops more angrily, but then he starts laughing too, teetering dangerously. Junno lets go of his leg, and they both collapse onto the nearest bed, helpless with hilarity.
Once they recover, Jin cleans up the spilled cream. He doesn't even grumble about it much, anymore.
"Remind me never to get into a fight with you," Kame says. When Junno turns to look at him, he's grinning a wry, crooked grin. "You're a real dark horse, aren't you?"
"Me?" Junno laughs. "Nobody's ever saddled me with that title before!"
That gets him a hint of a smile as well as Kame's most sceptical eyebrows. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. I'm a horse of a completely different color." He isn't a mysterious, unfathomable kind of guy. If he takes someone by surprise, it's just because they haven't been paying attention.
Kame eyes him in a narrow, speculative way, and smiles his crooked smile again.
"Hey mom," Junno says when he calls his mother that weekend. "Remember the first time I was on a stage?"
She groans melodramatically. "How could I forget? You were so nervous, poor baby. Dropped your flute, forgot the notes, and then cried all the way home."
Huh? "But I was a samurai guard in a school play. I didn't have a flute. And I certainly didn't cry! Samurai never cry, it would be completely uncool."
"No, honey, that was much later. Don't you remember the recital at your preschool? You were just a tiny squirt of a kid. I have the pictures somewhere – you were so cute! Why, I remember –"
And she's off.
Apparently show biz wasn't such a success the first time around, after all.
The first time Kame and Junno go out for a drink – just the two of them – is incredibly fun.
Of course, the next day isn't nearly as much fun, on account of Junno's massive hangover. Plus, in retrospect he has to wonder if it really was such a brilliant idea to climb onto the bar and belt out 'Samurai Love Attack' at the top of his lungs while dancing like a lovestruck samurai.
But that's afterwards. At the time, it's great.
It's not just him, either. Kame has every bit as much fun and cheers him on all the way, even when Junno's stripping off his t-shirt and hurling it at the barkeeper.* As a very drunk samurai might conceivably do, if transplanted into modern Tokyo. At least that's Junno's line, and he's sticking to it.
Kame gets drunk, too, but if he does anything embarrassing, Junno doesn't catch him at it. He just laughs a lot… laughs and smiles and grins and talks. And cheers, at appropriate times.
Afterwards, what Junno remembers most clearly is that Kame looks happy. Relaxed, open and genuinely, uncomplicatedly happy.
It's a good look on him. Junno decides then and there that he should always wear it.
When they head home at last, Kame leans heavily into Junno's side, an arm slung around his waist for balance. Junno automatically puts an arm around his shoulders and hugs him close.
The next day, of course, Junno remembers that they were just hanging out.**
* In fact, Junno's pretty sure he remembers Kame hooting raucously and waving a 5,000 yen note. He can't quite reconstruct the chain of events that leads to that note – or one suspiciously like it – ending up in his left sock, but it's a good thing it did. Junno invests it in hangover tonics.
** Before he remembers, though, there's a moment just after they reach the taxi stand when Kame burrows even closer for a second or two, turning up his face with a hopeful smile… but then, Junno's really drunk at the time. They both are.
Actually, Junno's date will buy two roasted sweet potatoes for him, when that winter rolls around. The first potato will slip right out of Junno's hand, straight into a pile of dirty gray sludge.
He first kisses Kame on stage, in front of thousands of people.
Junno's completely caught up in the moment, the song's passion burning in his veins. He loves this; loves throwing himself into the music, forgetting everything. Melting into the dance.
He whirls and snaps his hips, throws back his head, stretches yearningly to the side. Turns again – and there's Kame, hot-eyed and intense, stalking closer, sliding smoothly into Junno's rhythm.
They circle each other for a heartbeat, two. Kame's gaze is narrow and dark, his throat gleaming with sweat; his hair falls into his face, and he shakes it back with an impatient toss of the head.
The beat ensnares them both, drawing them in. Closer – closer still, held in the wild, breathless energy of the dance, eyes locked.
Too close. Because just before the dance tears them apart again, Junno follows the rhythm a little bit too far, and his mouth hits Kame's.
It's actually more a collision than a kiss, so hard it's a little painful. In the next instant, they're whirling away from each other, and Junno's fingers are at his smarting lips, reflexive apologies jumping to his tongue.
After the performance, Junno apologizes properly. Kame shrugs, smiles vaguely, and waves it off. And why shouldn't he? It's not a big deal.
The fans loved it, needless to say. In the fancams, the kiss is echoed by a storm of excited screams. Junno doesn't know how he missed that, before. He guesses he was too caught up in the music.
The first time Junno tries to sleep on a beach is also the first time he learns of the existence of sand fleas. Even if he doesn't know their name then, when he's fleeing (It's sand flees! Pun!) so fast he almost leaves his towel behind.
"We're not in a hurry, right?" Junno smiles hopefully. "It's just… I think you're really awesome. Right now – well, most of all, I want to find out more about you. About the person you are, I mean, because I can already tell she's amazing. And maybe you want to know a little bit about the person I am, too?"
Not very smooth, that, but he's nervous. Megumi is really awesome, and he wants the chance to discover some of the forms her awesomeness takes.
Megumi looks a little startled, and then a lot pleased. They spend the rest of the night talking. Or mostly talking; in the small hours of the morning, they also invade a tiny 24-hour sushi place that's around the corner from her place, and proceed to pig out horribly.
She has two characters leveled all the way to the top in the latest update of 'Blood Moon', Junno discovers. She can stuff three pieces of sushi into her mouth at the same time. She can quote haiku, and make Junno see the beauty in them in ways he never has before. She loves manga, especially 'One Piece'. She can touch her tongue to her elbow, hates umeboshi, and is uncertain about the color yellow.
That's pretty damn awesome, all right.
Later, Megumi escorts him to the subway. They hold hands on the way, and that's all.
Junno loves first dates, once the initial awkwardness has passed. There's no call for ruining them with sex.
"So, have you heard about the origami store? It folded!"
Junno's found Kame in the dressing room, slouched in a chair together with a magazine and a visible aura of Don't Talk To Me™. Now he straightens a bit, the better to glower at Junno.
Junno grins, waiting. There's no echo, though; nothing comes back from Kame, not even the tiniest spark of amusement or twitch of the mouth.
That's fine. The origami pun was only the first sally – Junno's just warming up. "What did the grape say when it got stepped on?"
"Hey, here's an idea. Why don't you go bother someone who finds you amusing? Oh, wait." Yeah, Kame's in a major snit, all right.
Which is, of course, the point.* So Junno just laughs. "Nope, that's not what the grape said! Actually, it didn't say anything. But it did give out a little whine!"
Still nothing. Well, Junno likes a challenge.
It takes quite a number of additional jokes and even an impression or two, but finally Kame shows more promising signs of life: he sighs and lets his magazine drop to the table. "How long until you get tired of pestering me?"
"I have enough puns primed and ready to keep this up all day. Bet you run out first!" Junno chirps.
Yes! There it is: a real crack in the armor at long last. Kame snorts, and for a moment Junno even thinks he's going to give in to an actual smile. He doesn't, not quite, but he does sag back into his chair and close his eyes. All of the brittle hardness seems to flow out of him on a single exhaled breath, leaving behind only a tired-looking young man in really startling clothes.
"Once we're done with the spot and the photos, I think I'll get a massage," Junno says into the silence. "I know a really good place – their hot oil treatments are so relaxing it's almost like going on vacation."
The silence stretches for the space of another breath. Then, Kame slants his eyes open to give him a glance, eyebrows tilting at an angle halfway between puzzled and sardonic. "If that was a joke you need help, Taguchi."
"That was me wondering if you'd like to tag along, actually." Junno blinks, aiming for exaggerated innocence. "I do know several more jokes… but I wouldn't want them to rub you the wrong way!"
The corners of Kame's mouth definitely twitch that time.
He doesn't join Junno for a hot oil treatment, but the day is still a win. Kame doesn't exactly turn into a model of good cheer, but he stops the constant needling, so everyone relaxes. They finish their TV spot in short order; by the time they reach the photo studio, they're easy with each other again.
They all look good in the magazines that month. Kame too, despite the outfit.**
* Steeping yourself in a funk only ever makes things worse. And Kame's foul mood has a tendency to spread like a disease; it's the way he goes around tight-lipped and fairly vibrating with angry frustration, throwing bitchy little barbs in every direction. Besides: Frustration and anger aren't good looks on Kame. He's more photogenic when he's happy, and they have photoshoots coming up.
** Incidentally, Kame claims it's the latest fashion to dress up in hyper-expensive monstrosities that make handsome guys look like hobos who scavenge from circus dumpsters. He doesn't phrase it quite like that, of course, but Junno has eyes.
Kame's the one who initially calls Junno on not being able to read the atmosphere. Later on, though, he's usually silent when Koki or one of the others laughingly complains about Junno's inability to say something that suits the mood.
The first time Junno bursts into a room and trumpets "Iriguchi, deguchi, Taguchi desu!!"
Oh yes. That's a great one.
And that he tripped on the carpet the day before, right before making his dramatic entrance, before he could get to his brilliant, brand-new pun… that doesn't count.
In the beginning, when Junno and Kame are fresh, untried juniors, they don't really click. It's not that they don't get on perfectly well; they do. It's just that neither of them finds the other particularly interesting, and there are so many other boys around to make friends with.
They get thrown together in a bunch of junior shows and performances, though, so Junno does get to know Kame a little. He loves the limelight, and is a bit of a show-off. Junno doesn't mind; after all, none of them would be here if they didn't want to stand on a stage and be looked at.
He's also ambitious – driven, at times. On bad days, it makes him hard and anxious, with sharp icy edges that cut everyone around him. But on good days, it makes him someone whose focus and enthusiasm sweep others along with him, turning them from a random gaggle of boys into a real team.
And then, there's KAT-TUN.
Junno discovers that Kazuya is quirky and fun, with a subtle, wicked sense of humor. He's a brand fetishist, and will happily wear the weirdest things in the name of fashion. He knows the names of all J-League baseball players for decades back. He was named after the younger twin in 'Touch', a manga he rereads obsessively, and occasionally quotes from. He hates pickles, tomatoes and red peppers. He loves squid, in every form. He's read the Harry Potter series multiple times, has the movies on BluRay, and can list the differences between the book and film versions in detail, with critical commentary. He loves the ocean, and goes surfing whenever he can.
"Junno, hey." Kazuya catches him by the arm just before he leaves the studio. He's wearing an unfamiliar smile, one that's neither wry nor crooked.
When Junno stops, Kazuya doesn't say anything for a moment, just tilts his head and looks up at him. The smile fades; the harsh studio lighting brings out the strong lines of his face, but doesn't make him look washed-out, as it sometimes does. He's been happy lately, full of laughter and lively energy.
"You're not doing anything after, right?" This new smile is bright and sudden, almost dazzling. "Let's have dinner. There's this place in Shibuya that serves amazing French fusion cuisine.* They have great wine, too."
"That's a great idea, Kazuya-kun. French food doesn't give me the crêpes!"
Kazuya's smile grows even more brilliant. For a moment, puns on 'luminous' and 'incandescent' flit irrelevantly through Junno's head, distracting him; when he blinks out of it, the others have already started leaving. "Koki! Hey, Koki, wait up! Uepi, you have time, too, right? Let's have dinner together tonight!"
This may or may not be the first time Kazuya asks Junno out on a date. Junno's never entirely sure.
* Restaurants Kazuya favors tend to feature floor-length tablecloths, silver candle sticks and haughty waiters in tuxedos, not to mention scary prices. Junno gravitates more towards small, cozy family-run restaurants if left to his own devices, but he's flexible, and not opposed to good food wherever it may be found.
In the end, it's not a date thing at all. It just happens.
"Welcome home," says someone who sounds a lot like Kazuya.
For a second, Junno thinks he's imagining things. But no, it really is Kazuya, leaning against the wall next to the elevators, as casual as you please.
"How'd you get in here?" Junno asks, rather stupidly.*
A second later, his brain belatedly hands him some additional information. Such as: Not only is Kazuya inexplicably in Junno's apartment building, it's also the middle of the night. And: He's more than fashionably disheveled, with some of his hair standing up in ways that can't be intentional. Also: He's staring at Junno very fixedly.
To sum up, this is a pretty weird situation.
"Are you drunk?"
Kazuya shrugs, and finally pushes away from the wall. "A little. Not very. Are you?"
"Uh, no. I was playing billiard. If I drink more than a glass or two it messes up my…"
Why is he talking about this?
Junno casts about for something more relevant, but nothing occurs to him. He's too distracted by the way Kazuya's stalking closer, all smooth grace, gaze fixed on Junno's face with fierce intensity.
"You should have called, or texted." It comes out sounding absurdly normal, considering Junno barely knows what he's saying. "To tell me you were coming over. How long have you been waiting?"
"Too damn long," Kazuya growls. Now he's right there, so close Junno can feel his breath hot against his throat. He's reaching up with a deliberation that almost makes his movements seem slow; Junno can't move, can't breathe, and then Kazuya slides one hand behind his neck and the other into his hair, and pulls him down.
Oh. That's what this is.
Their second kiss is almost as much of a collision as the first. But the third one isn't.
In the elevator, Kazuya is all hands, urgent kisses and heavy breathing. He pushes Junno up against a wall and touches him like he's already his… like he knows exactly how this will go, and can't wait.
There's an oddly shocky, free-fall sensation lodged deep in Junno's gut. Joy, lust and massive apprehension don't mix well, he finds.
If they'd been on a date, Junno would have been prepared – could maybe have tried his usual delaying tactics. Although there wouldn't have been much point... they already know each other very well, after all, and savoring the anticipation seems to be very much not on the game plan of the man who's presently got his hands fisted in Junno's shirt and is pushing him backwards through his own apartment.**
So, yeah. That's how it happens. It's just as difficult, problematic and unrewarding as expected; sex always is, the first time. This is no exception.
Kazuya doesn't stay the night.
* Apparently, Junno's building supervisor is not immune to the infamous Kamenashi charm. Maybe Kazuya even brought out the big guns and winked at the poor woman. He denies it, but Junno knows what that man is capable of.
** Kazuya nearly shoves Junno into the kitchen by mistake before Junno can adjust their course so they arrive in the bedroom instead. It seems more fitting, under the circumstances.
"Junno, look," Kazuya begins, and stops to clear his throat. He's been looking everywhere but at Junno ever since they met up in front of the café. Now, he gathers himself and drags his gaze up to meet Junno's. "About the other night."
It's not exactly a surprise, but even so Junno's heart seizes painfully. He swallows, trying to pretend that he isn't scared; tries to look like someone who won't be a pathetic loser about this, who will not make this harder than it has to be.
You'd think that this, too, would get easier with practice. But no such luck: Getting dumped because you suck in bed is always just as unpleasant as the very first time.
The phrase "I like you, but" is so thick in the air that Kazuya doesn't really have to speak it. It's already right there, in the strained angle of his eyebrows and the thin, unhappy line of his mouth.
Junno concentrates on breathing for a moment, just until the tightness in his throat eases. His eyes sting, but it's not too bad, so he blinks and tries for a smile.
"You were pretty drunk," he says, offering Kazuya an easy way out. His voice is a bit thin, but he doesn't think it's obvious.
"I, uh. I'm sorry about that." Kazuya shifts uncomfortably, looking uncharacteristically self-conscious. "It wasn't very classy of me. You must have been uncomfortable."
"It's okay," Junno says softly. "Don't worry about it."
He lowers his eyes and watches Kazuya's hands tighten around his coffee cup. This would be a great moment for a pun – something to lighten the atmosphere and break the heavy silence that's threatening to fall. Unfortunately, he can't think of anything.
Still, it's time to get this over with. Sitting around moping won't do either of them any good.
Junno takes a deep, even breath and digs down deep, past the spreading hollow ache of loss. He remembers the wry, crooked grin Kazuya reserves just for him; the way he laughs when he's happy, and the warmth and affection between them.
All of that will still be there when this awkwardness is long past.
When he looks up, Kazuya holds his gaze. Unlike the previous smile, this one feels real on Junno's lips; he can tell Kazuya sees the difference by the way he straightens slightly, the frown that's been building between his brows clearing away.
"We're good, right? I mean. We're good as friends." The words taste ashen and joyless in Junno's mouth, but that's okay. They'll be true in a little while; he just has to wait. It won't take long at all.
He holds on to the thought fiercely, concentrates until he believes it.
"Friends," Kazuya says, slowly. "Yes… of course. Friends."
Junno's the one who breaks up with Kazuya, that first (and last) time. He doesn't mean to; he doesn't even realize what he's done. Not until much later, when his lover is laughingly complaining about how much trouble he was to catch.*
* He complains with a clear purpose; he denies it, but Junno knows what that man is capable of. He probably has a whole list of suggestions for how Junno can prove he's worth the trouble… by crawling into his lap and giving a practical demonstration, say. Junno isn't that easy though, at least not right then; he just raises his eyebrows, says "who told you you caught me?", and pretends to be getting away.**
** They never do make it to the movies that night.
Billiard, standing on a stage, making okonomiyaki, playing a new video game, skateboarding, writing a song, free climbing, giving relaxing massages, finding the perfect gift for someone, roasting chestnuts over an open fire, watching the sun rise over the ocean, being a good boyfriend…
It seems only right that such things need a lead-in. How would you be able to appreciate the full force of their amazing awesomeness otherwise?
This is the first text message Kazuya sends him that day:
Heard back from TV Asahi – I have the role! Will be late for practice on Wednesday because I'm dropping by the station in the morning to shake hands and sign things.
This is the message Kazuya sends ten minutes later:
Oh, fuck it. This friendship thing sucks. You said I should have warned you before, so official warning, I intend to make an ass of myself again, tonight. The brilliant plan:
1 – get drunk
2 – take a taxi to your place
3 – be let in by the building supervisor
4 – wait in the lobby until you come home
5 – be a pathetic ass.
In terms of drunkenness, up to you.
I can go from "lightly buzzed and reckless" to "completely smashed and won't remember a thing in the morning". Any preferences?
Emoticons in the form of beer glasses, drunkenly circling stars, taxis, keys, bees and a whole cluster of throbbing hearts throng the message. Even Junno has never used this many.
Junno's reply reads:
Don't bum around in some bar, you ass. Hoof it over here right now so we can horse around.
PS: My preference is you. The rest is optional.
"Right, so this is how it's going to work. Everything's under control. You just relax and let me handle things, okay?"
Kazuya has a new smile for Junno now – or maybe it's the old one still, and Junno was just never able to see it for everything it is, before.
He's been considerably less handsy this time around, so Junno's decided to make up for the general lack of groping himself.
"Don't worry." Kazuya sounds breathless; not all that surprising, considering. "This is going to work just fine."
"I'm not worried," Junno murmurs, and shifts closer still for another kiss. Kazuya groans into his mouth and melts against him. And there are his wandering hands again, too, soon followed by the urgent kissing, pushing of Junno against random flat surfaces, and heavy breathing.
Junno can't wait. He loves this, loves it; can only imagine how much he will love it with Kazuya, who's so bold and intense and sharp with occasional edges, and now so warm, eager and familiar beneath Junno's touch.
It's going to be better than first dates. Better than 11:11 o'clock. Better even than sweet potatoes in winter, and any number of beaches without sand fleas.
No more bitter candy shell. From here on in, it's sweet chocolate center all the way.
Several minutes later, Kazuya takes in a deep, unsteady breath and pulls back, grabbing Junno's wrists to drag his hands away and pin them safely to the bed. His lips are reddened and wet from kisses; he's gorgeous, all happy and flushed and aroused… and determined. "Just, okay, listen to me. Last time, we, uh, there were some things that didn't really – it just could have gone better. But this time, it's going to work. It will be great, Junno, I have it all worked out. So just trust me and –"
Junno grins, slowly, and watches Kazuya's eyes widen. Startled is a good look on him, too.
He stops arguing pretty soon after that.
Second times, and all the times after that. Hell yes. Junno's damn good at those.
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