Firefly
an excerpt

Eiji showed up somewhere in there, and I didn't see him come in thorough the haze. I waved a greeting, casual-like, and he nodded once in acknowledgment. I was planning to take it easy that night, take it slow and not frighten him off. I seem to have trouble with that. People seem to think I'm intimidating, although I have no idea where most of them get this from.
But he wandered over, drink in hand, and I smiled. What had he really meant by what he said before? I wasn't going to discuss it, though. I figured it would be hard enough to get him into a non-superficial conversation, let alone something that was going to actually be personal and possibly intimate.
“He's a good man,” Eiji said without preamble.
“Who?”
“Hiro,” he said. He cleared his throat. “He's just a little, ah, casual. It's nothing personal, he acts like that with everyone.” I nod. “I think maybe he likes you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you...trying to set me up with Hiro?”
He turned to look me in the eyes, part challenge, part connection. “Isn't that what you want?”
I turned my body to face his, and reached out to pluck at the shoulders of his shirt, a grooming gesture. Pluck and sweep, pluck and sweep. Then I looked him in the eyes as well and smiled. “Not really.” I let my fingers linger on his shoulders for a second more, light like the touch of a moth. Subtlety.
Japanese culture is a study in subtlety. Tiny things that foreigners don't pick up on are noticed and analyzed the same as the large things. The little things are important. Little differences can make a situation better or worse, not so unlike a relationship.
“Besides,” I said as I slid back to lean on a counter behind us, “I'm not into casual guys. I'm already too casual myself!” I joked. He seemed to loosen up at that. I guess I said the right thing at the right time. We decided to give up on the pool game and went to sit at the bar. That night he told me about his brother, and we talked about our families. What had lead him to music and how much he disliked his major. We just sat and talked for what must have been hours. It was nearly midnight when we stopped. Awkward silence. I couldn't think of anything else that I was comfortable talking about, and no distractions were forthcoming. The bar wasn't very busy, even at so late an hour. Tuesdays aren't big bar nights, I guess.
I noticed how he had stated to fidget. I turned to watch his hands pick at a bar napkin. He noticed and looked at me.
“You're probably going to have to clean that up.” He made a non-committal noise. And in that moment, I had the very strong urge to kiss him. So instead, I put my hand on his. No sense in scaring him off now. He covered mine with his other hand, and our thumbs played together for a minute. I saw him smile slightly, and I looked up into his dark eyes. I leaned in just a bit, and let him come to me. It was just a tiny kiss, but it was worth it.