Work Text:
[Middle of somewhere, Texas]
Using the money he’s saved for years now, Kiku of Japan decides to book a vacation to the United States, a long-time dream of his. Instead of taking a plane straight to Austin, Texas, where his hotel was, he booked a flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles and decided to road trip here instead for the “American” experience. He’s always wanted to experience that, and he’s just in time for the 4th of July, America’s 250th birthday. It’s sure to be a wild time.
He’s driven from Los Angeles through Arizona and New Mexico for about 3 days, including rest stops and overnight stays at motels. It’s the week before the 4th of July, and he’s staying here for two weeks—half of it he’s spent driving. It’s fine, though, because he’s able to experience all the things America is known for—diners, car hops, old western-style bars, and all the hospitality everyone in Japan speaks so highly of. So far, he’s content with his trip, and he’s barely halfway done.
He ends up in Texas about the 25th of June, past El Paso and somewhere in arid West Texas, though he doesn’t know where. His GPS doesn’t account for the smaller towns along the way. Somewhere on the way to Austin, he realizes that he’s running low on gas, snacks, and water, and in this heat, reaching nearly 100°F or 37°C, water cannot be compromised. It’s just a little way to Austin, so he shouldn’t ned to buy much.
One of the billboards along the freeway advertises someplace called Buccee’s. It’s a rest stop, and it seems very insistent on people coming to visit their gas station due to the number of billboards he’s seen in less than 30 minutes, which is at least 4. So, he takes the next exit and attempts to navigate to the ever-so-glorious establishment of Buccee’s, the world’s biggest gas station.
He knew in America, everything’s bigger, but he had absolutely zero clue that there could be a gas station that spanned miles, so it seemed. Pulling up to the dozens of gas pumps packed with at least a hundred cars, it seems too good to be true. It all seems so lively too—people coming in and leaving constantly. He drives around the gas pumps, admiring how many there truly are, before finding an empty one after another person left. The gas isn’t too expensive either, so that’s nice—he was a bit tired of spending $5 a gallon in the other states.
He gets out, shuts his car off, throws away his trash in one of the convenient bins located next to the shaded pumps, and heads inside. Again, the inside is akin to a supermarket back home… and it’s a gas station! There are walls and entire aisles dedicated to snacks, like these weird puffs called Beaver Nuggets (surely they’re not made of beaver, right?) or freshly made brisket sandwiches. This is the American culture Kiku came here for—an overabundance of everything that you can’t help but try them all and spend almost $40.
That’s what Kiku did.
He got a bit carried away and bought too much food (and merchandise items of the station’s little beaver mascot, which he thought was cute). Oh, and he also paid for gas… since you also come here to fill up, but you mostly come here to browse the food and merch. Kiku carries his haul back to his car and shoves it all in the passenger seat, a little giddy to try everything.
That was, until he came along.
The biggest fucking pickup truck Kiku has ever seen pulls up behind him. It doesn’t have a solid color—the color is an American flag plastered over everything except the windows. Since the truck is lifted so much, Kiku seems so small compared to the grill. The subwoofers likely in the back of the truck are blasting That’s My Kind of Night by Luke Bryan, the bass literally making Kiku’s insides vibrate as he can feel it through the ground. This kind of noise would cause a small earthquake back home, and yet here in America, it’s the norm. Literally no one bats an eye.
The truck turns off with the music. Who hops out of the driver’s seat is the most American man he’s ever seen. Blond hair, sunglasses, wearing a snug-fitting army green t-shirt, camo pants, dog tag around his neck, and steel-toed boots. This guy definitely came straight out of boot camp and is ready to fucking party. Kiku knows this because he’s chugging a can of beer before tossing it in the trash, obviously ready to get turnt sometime tonight.
As this man walks on by, he briefly checks Kiku out before jogging on to the gas station.
What was that about?
Kiku shrugs it off and pumps gas as he’s supposed to. He’s not going to question the culture here—it’s not his, after all. While the heat certainly gets to him as he waits for the gas to finish up, he grabs himself a swig of the cold water that he bought inside. As he was doing this, the man from earlier came jogging back with a 6-pack of beer. Yep, definitely going to party tonight. His shirt’s really tight; that guy had some huge pecs. He must also be a gym rat.
He also has a round ass and big thighs.
Kiku’s always been a slave to big thighs and big tits…
What the hell is he thinking?
He shakes away the thought. The man puts the beer in the passenger seat of the monstrous truck of his, no clue how it’s even legal, before pumping gas. God only knows how much that thing guzzles, at least 20 gallons. While Kiku tries to mind his business, they’re both standing here pumping gas, and he can feel that man studying him. C’mon, don’t make this harder for Kiku. Just pay attention to your own business!
“Hey.”
Damn it all.
The man struts up to him, and Kiku is forced to look at him and his… absolutely unnatural naturals. The closer he steps up to him, the taller he is. This guy, in those boots, has to be at least 6’. He makes Kiku crane his neck upward.
“I checked your license plate. You from Cali?”
Kiku flickers nervously between the man’s naturals and his license. “Uh, y-yes. I mean, no… I’m not from Cali.”
The man tilts his head to the side. “You sound foreign. Where’re you from?”
“Uh… I’m from Japan. Tokyo.”
The man smiles. “Sick, man! Are you here for the World Cup?”
“N—No, I’m here for vacation.”
“Okay…” He nods, still studying Kiku from top to bottom. He then offers out his hand. To Kiku, Alfred’s accent sounds generally southern, but it’s more Texan than anything. “I’m Al, short for Alfred. I’m from here.”
When Kiku goes in for a handshake, Alfred’s hand is incredibly massive. All kinds of things are running through Kiku’s head right now. “Kiku.”
“Kiku? That’s a nice name. Nice to meet you, Kiku.”
Those hands are so big compared to Kiku’s. If they’re bigger than Kiku’s, then he wonders how they would size up to his waist or his head. He can probably grab a fistful of Kiku’s hair as he’s ramming his—
“Well, where are you heading? I’m heading down to Houston. Summer break, baby.”
“I, uh, I’m going to Austin.”
“Okay, that’s cool. What are you gonna do?”
“It’s, uh, where I’m staying. I’m also planning to go to Houston.”
Afred’s face lights up. “Alright! Hey, if you’re down, we’re having a huge party in downtown Houston, and I can totally give the addy if you’re interested! You can be my plus one!”
A party? A real American party?
Kiku has never been invited to a party before, and supposedly, American parties are either the most boring ones you’ll attend or the police are called three hours in. For the sake of not getting arrested, he’s hoping for the former, but it’s also a party—when’s the next time you’re going to get invited to a party?
“Uh… What is it for?”
“It’s my college buds and I—we came all the way from the DFW area, and we’re gonna get down hard. Summer break just began for us a month ago. We wanted to get summer classes over with, and I just finished mine!”
Kiku’s a bit nervous. “I don’t know. I don’t know anybody there.”
“You’re gonna know me!” He speaks quite loudly and confidently. “But that’s totally up to you. You don’t gotta go if you don’t wanna. If you want…” His volume suddenly lowers. “I can give you a good time right here, right now.”
Did he just hear that right?
“I’m sorry?”
Alfred chuckles a bit at Kiku’s sudden rush of blood to his face. “I said…” He leans in a little closer to Kiku’s ear, and that alone is going to have him dying. “I can give you a good time right here… and now.”
Kiku’s burning up. If the Texas heat isn’t scorching him, then it is now. “I—I don’t understand.”
“Okay, look, honey,” given the surrounding noise of cars, Alfred speaks at a room volume, “I was eyeing you up when I got here. You’re just my type. Short, slim, black hair, and I certainly don’t mind if you’re foreign. I actually quite like that. So, I’m wondering if you, uh… are interested in a little hookup.”
Hookup means sex.
Alfred, this big and tall glass of Texas spring water, is asking him for sex.
Here’s the thing—Kiku is the biggest virgin you’ll ever meet. He’s never even felt the touch of a man or woman. The closest thing he’s had to sex was masturbating to hentai and yaoi using toys, and that’s it. Truth be told, he’s not interested in a romantic relationship with actual people. He always thought real relationships were too much of a hassle anyway. His 2D women and men are perfect enough for him. So, what does this objectively hot American guy have to do with him?
This must be a setup. There’s no way a guy like him is actually interested in a guy like Kiku.
But then again, he only lives once…
“Hookup?”
“Yeah,” Alfred smirks, jerking his jaw over to his truck, “we can hop back there and have a bit of fun. A/C works, seats recline, and I’ve got condoms and lube. All we needa do is find somewhere quiet.”
He really is offering it.
Kiku stutters and stammers like a broken record. There are no words in the English language that can convey both the confusion and temptation he feels. Alfred can see his brain frying like an egg in the Texas heat. It makes him chuckle. “If you don’t wanna, dude, you can say that. I can take rejection pretty well.”
He also doesn’t want to pass up this opportunity. Truth is, Kiku sort of has a thing for buff men, let alone Americans or foreigners in general. Something, something, being manhandled and degraded sounds like a good time for him. The next time he’s going to get offered sex plainly like this will likely never happen in a million years, if Kiku lives that long.
Besides… Nothing can make this trip even more interesting than hooking up with some big, blond American guys. It’s a whole different playing field, right?
“No…” Kiku shakes his head, confusing Alfred a little bit. “I want a… hookup.” He mutters this more quietly.
Alfred’s eyebrow cocks up. “You sure? Looked like you were having a panic attack over there, hon.”
Kiku nods eagerly. “I want sex.”
His sentence causes Alfred to snort. “Way to go. Hey, uh… you sure sure? Do you know what sex is in English? Don’t wanna, y’know… get you mixed up or anything.”
“… I can speak English pretty well.”
Alfred throws his hands in mock offense. “Just asking, dude.” The pump at Alfred’s truck shuts off, causing his attention to flicker over. But before he leaves, he suggests something else. “Also, if you, uh… wanna get cleaned up a little bit, go ahead. I’ll wait.”
It took a bit for Kiku to register what he meant, but when he did, he immediately turned red. Is he insinuating Kiku is unclean?! Well, it’s not out of the question—no doubt Kiku isn’t sweating his ass off. So, he heads back inside to the bathrooms, surprisingly extraordinarily clean, to at least freshen himself up. He grabbed some baby wipes from his car (for his hands, mind you, because he’s quite finicky about the cleanliness of his hands), cologne, and deodorant. He wipes down every part of his body because he’s never actually had sex before.
Kiku is sweating bullets not because of the heat, but because he’s going to lose his virginity to some… American guy. He’s at least hot, but Kiku would’ve liked to give it away to someone he trusts eventually. Then again, what does he know about true romance? He masturbates to hentai—he barely knows a thing about true love. He’s here for a hookup, not a date.
After wiping himself as clean as physically possible, just about going through the entire damn baby wipe package, applying deodorant, and spraying on a moderate amount of cologne, Kiku heads outside the bathrooms to find Alfred… browsing. That’s right—he’s browsing the wall dedicated entirely to jerky. Kiku didn’t need to alert him or anything; Alfred saw him coming out, approaching, then greeting him with a smile.
“There you are. I knew you were in there. You still down?”
Why are his pecs so large?
Kiku wants to grope them terribly.
“Uh… Yes…” He notices there’s a bag chock-full of snacks in Alfred’s hand as well. “Are you?”
“Hon, you know I am. C’mon—I’m getting anxious. You’re really hot, by the way.” Walking out of the store together, Alfred rants about him like he’s not talking about Kiku right beside him. “I saw you when I was paying for gas. Goddamn, I knew I needed you from the jump. I mean, seriously, you’re my exact type, and I just couldn’t let you go. You’re a blessing and a half.”
Back at their vehicles, as Kiku is putting away his toiletries, Alfred kindly tells him this. “If you wanna head out of here and follow me, I know a place. Hopefully you don’t lose me. I know I blend into this crowd real good.”
Kiku hopes he was being ironic.
But he follows his instructions.
Kiku follows Alfred’s extremely vivid and iconic truck out of the gas station and back onto the interstate. As he drives, he stresses about the little things, like whether his body is as “perfect” as Alfred claims it is, even though he’s never seen him naked… yet. What if he’s not clean enough? He was working up a sweat just walking out of the gas station, and with the A/C on, he swears he can feel it on his neck. His body isn’t nearly as picture-perfect as a pornstar’s with their waxy bodies and hairless limbs—what body type does he even fit? Alfred is most certainly a hunk, but what the hell is Kiku? A twink?!
Alfred seems to drive off into an empty parking lot of a supermarket called… Wal-Mart. Kiku feels indecent. The place Alfred seemingly knows isn’t a secluded scenic spot in the mountains or perhaps somewhere more appropriate like an empty parking lot—it’s a Wal-Mart parking lot?! He parks beside the extremely large truck and gets out. Alfred also hops out of his truck, rounds it, and reaches Kiku on the passenger seat.
“There’s a lot more room in here than you think.” Alfred gives a brief wink before stepping onto the foot ledges beneath the door and opening it. He offers out his hand. “Hop in.”
Kiku grabs his hand, able to feel the roughness and the true size difference between them. Oh, he’s going to enjoy this. He knows it. Alfred’s entire hand consumes Kiku’s smaller, slender one. Imagining those hands on him already has him hard. He’s pulled up, and he climbs into the extremely spacious backseat area with leather seats and a clean interior, surprisingly… aside from the discarded beer cans on the floor, but the interior is cool. The tall roof and front seats are shifted all the way to the dashboard and inclined forward, which also makes it very easy to move around here, or maybe it’s because Kiku is smaller than the man who actually drives this thing.
Alfred follows in after him, shutting the door so that they’re enclosed in this space… by themselves. Kiku notices the long but vague print near the crotch of Alfred’s pants. If he’s thinking clearly, that’s his erection, and it’s a lot more sizeable than Kiku was anticipating. He just remembered that he’s a virgin and hasn’t taken any object longer or girthier than 4 inches and a few inches wide. This was either going to go horribly, or he was about to have his life changed in the back of this pickup truck.
“Don’t worry about any peepers,” Alfred, now standing on his knees, begins undoing his belt. “The windows are tinted. Oh, and if you don’t mind, I’m topping.”
This might go horribly wrong.
“Show me what you’re working with.”
Kiku feels a bit embarrassed, not because he is necessarily small, but because he most definitely is not bigger than Alfred. But it’s pretty much unavoidable, and Alfred seems considerate enough not to make fun of dick size. So, leaning back on his elbows, Kiku kicks off his sneakers and pushes down his shorts and underwear simultaneously, letting his hardened cock finally breathe the cool air of the conditioned interior.
Alfred, upon seeing his dick, about 4 inches in length and 3.75 inches in girth, huffs in a sort of impressed manner. It’s about the size of a soda can. “Alright… Not bad.”
Not bad?
He’s not sure how to feel about that. Proud? Embarrassed? Either way, he blushes bright red.
“Here’s what I’m working with.” With one hand, he pulls out his dick, also hard as rock, extending 6 inches in length and 5 inches in girth. It’s about the size of a pen. “It’s not the biggest, but I can make it work just fine.”
Not the biggest?
How can any man be self-conscious with a length that long and girthy? Is the average 8 inches over here? Kiku doesn’t even know how many men would die to get a length like that.
“Right…” He finishes kicking off his shorts. Right off the bat, Alfred appears so magnetized by Kiku’s legs—his thighs, his ass, and his abdomen that is slightly exposed with Kiku’s scrunched-up t-shirt.
“Oh, God,” Kiku can’t discern Alfred’s tone at first, so he closes his thighs slightly in embarrassment. Alfred almost chuckles in disbelief. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen all my life.”
It might be because Kiku doesn’t have much body hair. That’s what he assumes, at least. When Alfred lifts off that tight shirt, he has body hair, but it also wasn’t too noticeable. In fact, if Kiku looks closer, it looks like he’s either shaved or waxed within 30 days. What are the chances Alfred is a pornstar as a hobby?
Alfred comes in a little closer after pushing off his pants, taking off his boots, and throwing off his sunglasses, eventually getting between Kiku’s thighs and placing both hands on either side of his hand. Kiku is lying down, heart pounding in his chest, red in the face, and his legs are quivering. Everything about this situation is unsurprisingly orgasmic—every time Alfred’s hand even grazes him, he fears he might cum. His cock is literally twitching in anticipation, droplets of precum sliding down his shaft.
Their faces are merely two inches apart. Kiku stares deeply into Alfred’s baby blue eyes. Of course they’re blue, like the ocean flows within them.
“I never asked,” Alfred mutters, “but are you a virgin?”
Kiku gulps hard, nodding wordlessly.
“Huh… I’ll tell you now, you got the body of a pornstar.” He then admires Kiku’s body even more. “I wanna see more. Take off your shirt.”
Following that voice to the ends of the earth, Kiku sits up real quick and pulls off his shirt, throwing it to the ground. His nipples hardened at the exposure to cold air, creating goosebumps along pale skin.
“Lord,” Alfred breathes heavily, “I ain’t gonna stop, am I?”
It is slightly flattering to know Alfred looks at him like a piece of treasure he found. He’s his type and everything. He finds confidence in that. Kiku pulls his arms above his head, essentially giving Alfred full permission to do whatever he pleases with him.
Alfred quickly gets up and moves over to the driver’s door and locks the doors. Once returning to the backseat, he reaches into the pockets behind the seats for a condom, just his size, and a bottle of water-based lube. However, thinking he’s going too fast, he sets those things aside. “Oh, honey, I’ve gotta taste you first.” He says this like he’s about to have his slice of cake.
His hands slide under Kiku’s hips and lift, sparking a little noise out of him, but he doesn’t mind at all. He brings Kiku to his mouth, kissing his thighs and suckling the soft skin. Kiku gasps, hands flying to Alfred’s blond hair and grabbing hold firmly. His wet lips lick and kiss all the way to Kiku’s cock, doing one long lick with the flat side of his tongue before suckling the tip. This forces a guttural moan right from Kiku’s lips; he’s never felt anything like this before. Fleshlights don’t even compare to the real wetness and warmth of someone’s mouth.
“Hah…” Kiku tries to mutter something, but the way Alfred’s lips work around his tip, kissing, suckling, and licking around the glands with that wet tongue, it’s making him breathless. It’s zapping away his words right when they form.
“You wanna cum already, babe?” Alfred glances up at him with blue eyes. “Go on, I’ll drink you right up.”
Alfred spits out a generous amount of saliva onto Kiku’s cock before slipping the entire shaft into his mouth, until his lips meet the light patch of hair above the base. He bobs his head up and down, the feeling so warm and entrancing it’s akin to feeling high, and Alfred puts on a good show for Kiku to see. He swallows him whole, leaving his cock so glossy with saliva and precum that he wants to fuck Alfred’s mouth hard until he fills his throat with his warm cum.
Alfred suddenly lifts off his mouth, using his hand to stroke Kiku strongly. His hand is so big that his dick disappears in it, and the roughness constantly pumping him has him seeing stars. “I want you to cum on my face, honey… Don’t you wanna see this face covered in your cum? I’m all yours.”
Kiku manipulates his dick back into Alfred’s mouth and fucks upward, forcing a choked giggle from Alfred, who now moans with the vibrations he needs to cum. Kiku breathes deeper and faster until he explodes into Alfred’s mouth, quickly pulling out and letting some strings of cum paint that face in white. Saliva dribbles down Alfred’s lips and chin as well as cum; his hand continues stroking Kiku, his breathy moans really sealing the deal for this.
Alfred chuckles while recovering his breath, using his finger to wipe the cum off his cheek and licking it. “You taste so sweet, baby. Now I’ve gotta treat you right, or I ain’t treating you at all.” After licking Kiku’s cum clean, he gets back to work prepping himself. The condom he rolls on is perfectly sized, and the lube he applies along its length is plentiful. Kiku wants to spread his thighs even further, literally offering himself so immodestly that he wouldn’t even believe he’s actually a virgin.
The man then pours a generous amount of lube over Kiku’s entrance and starts fingering him. Kiku’s eyes nearly roll back into his head when he feels Alfred’s large fingers sliding in and out of him with ease. He was just so big in general that anything Alfred did would set Kiku’s body on fire. Alfred curls his finger to press against Kiku’s prostate through his walls, forcing a loud gasp and a repressed whining with Kiku biting his lips. He’s never been done like this before; in fact, he could only dream of being touched and prodded like this by a real man.
He becomes so needy for Alfred that he quickly flips himself over onto his hands and elbows, arching his back. Alfred adjusts wordlessly, both of his large hands nearly touching when he grabs his waist. Kiku can feel the tip of that large cock nudging his entrance. Alfred then leans over to whisper in his ear. “Just tell me when to stop.”
Alfred seems to tease himself by slipping the tip of his girthy cock past the ring of muscle. He takes wincing, slow breaths when he does this, stimulating the tip alone by lightly thrusting in. “You want more, hon?”
Kiku nods quickly, biting his forearms, which he now leans on.
“Even your back is pretty.” Alfred’s large hands run up and down Kiku’s slim waist, sending shivers up his spine. “Such a pretty boy.” He then forces himself all the way into Kiku and starts thrusting rhythmically, keeping a good pace. Kiku feels his abdomen is suddenly so full—he’s never taken cock this big.
“So pretty…” Alfred mutters under his breath.
Kiku hums in response. He reaches his hand ot his cock and starts stroking it quickly. “… Faster…”
Alfred follows his request dutifully, gripping a little tighter and thoroughly thrusting in and out of Kiku at a medium pace. Kiku’s walls were so snug around his cock; it’s like heaven and a half for him. He has such a perfect body too—slim waist, milky skin that’s never seen a day of manual labor, and hair so black he’s only seen on a moonless night out in the country. Kiku takes his cock so well, his walls clenching needily around it.
Alfred suddenly slows down slightly; he needs to make sure Kiku knows one thing and one thing only. “You’re perfect, honey, you’re so perfect.” He winces with each breath. “I can’t cum right now, but Goddamn, you’re good-looking.”
He continues thrusting, but significantly slower and more cautious. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I gotta take my time. I’m gonna cum before you even orgasm.”
Either way, Kiku’s in love. The slower but deeper thrusts feel way better than the faster pace, whereas now he can savor each time his prostate is nudged. He loves feeling those hands on his waist, pulling him forward with determination.
“Oh, fuck…” Alfred picks up the pace by a few thrusts. “You feel so good.”
Kiku is arching his back even harder. His prostate is getting stimulated even more to the point where he’s in a trance, only focused on the pleasure. His hands grip the leather seats, slipping through with his damp palms.
Without warning, all that bubbling pressure in his stomach became too hard to feign indifference to. His breathing gets deeper and faster, a moan coating each one until Kiku is screaming his lungs out. No dildo or fleshlight had ever made him this loud. He always thought he was the type to savor the pleasure quietly, but he quickly realizes that he’s never been done right in his life… or like this. When his orgasm crashes his thought process, he nearly sees white. Ropes of cum spill onto the pristine leather seats, pooling in a tiny puddle of warm love.
“You like that, darling?” Alfred fucks him faster, now pounding his tight hole. “I wanna make you mine—you’re so good, honey…”
In this haze of orgasmic pleasure, all Kiku wants is to be claimed by Alfred. He needs him to keep fucking him like this for years. He’ll never go back to the routine after this. In fact, Kiku can feel all rationality melt in favor of being Alfred’s boy toy—his plaything.
Alfred slips both of his strong arms under Kiku’s and hunches over, bringing them chest-to-back. Those big tanned arms could break him in half, and he would thank Alfred. However, when he feels kisses on his back, he wants those arms to hold and protect him like something precious. Never in his life has he been cherished like this. Just a day full of firsts for Kiku, and he’s not going to regret a single minute of it.
Kiku hears Alfred slowly breaking until a choked groan plays right in his ear as the man’s hips go rigid against his ass. Being filled by Alfred’s huge cock and warm cum, though he can’t feel the cum entering him, is otherworldly. He’s completely surrendered to this stranger, but this stranger has treated and cherished him better than… well, no one.
Lips lazily kiss Kiku’s nape and the shell of his ear. Alfred’s frame swallows Kiku’s entirely, but Kiku likes it. He feels protected—safe. Alfred plants more kisses into his hair, and he nuzzles deeper with keen fascination. He takes a deep breath in, taking in the smell of Kiku’s rosemary shampoo. “God, even your hair is soft.” The heat must be making them lazy and unenergetic, given they spent a good amount of it just now, since all they want to do is lie like this. Alfred then mutters against Kiku’s fine black hair. “I don’t know how one man can be prettier than every girl I’ve met.”
He continues with his tender kissing; Kiku lets him. He’s far too tired and content to lament about anything. Hell, he just got fucked the best he’s ever been fucked, and his hookup partner loves his body to death. Just his body, though. Kiku doubts Alfred would actually think his personality is interesting enough to be more than a hookup buddy.
Alfred presses one last, long kiss on the back of Kiku’s head before getting off of him. He rolls the cum-filled condom off his softening dick before folding it and placing it back into the discarded wrapper. Kiku also sits up, though his back aches and so do his thighs. He’s not really too sure what to do next, so he follows what Alfred is doing—putting on his clothes.
It’s just a hookup.
“Hey,” Alfred finally breaks the silence after putting on his shirt. “You hungry?”
Kiku doesn’t know what to say to that. Do people in America treat their hookup to food afterward, or is this a rare occasion?
“Uh…” He sort of suspects that this might be an invitation to a post-game interview, and by that, we mean post-sex munchies. Again, Kiku doesn’t know if this is common courtesy or if Alfred is exceptionally nice. “Just a bit.”
“Wanna go to Chili’s?”
“… Chili’s?”
“Yeah,” Alfred slips on his belt. “It’s a sit-down restaurant. I’ll pay for ya. I’m starvin’.”
Well, it’d be impolite to turn down a free dinner, wouldn’t it?