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More Than Meets the Eye



Tsubasa sighed for the umpteenth time that day. Returning to Japan was a culture shock for him. After high school in Japan, he happily left for Royal Conservatory of Madrid to train in Flamenco. He loved the dance with his soul and spent long hours perfecting its moves and poses. After graduation, he was gunning for a coveted residency with Alas Compania de Danza, the premier Spanish dance company, when he received the news.



His father had been ill for some time. His doting sister had tried her best to protect him from distraction, but the illness had taken a turn for the worse and he was needed home.



Tsubasa knew what coming home meant. It didn't mean holding his father's hand by the bedside, it meant chairing meetings or at the least, enduring them while trying to look respectable. And looking respectable at long boring meetings, Tsubasa discovered, was more challenging than any Flamenco move he knew of. Often, during those testing and frequent meetings, he had a tendency to gravitate towards the table and rest his eyelids. He explained it was merely an afternoon siesta he was taking. But when it happened in the mornings too, he was without excuse.



Whilst in Spain, dinners were often simple home-cooked affairs by himself or with a handful of close fiends. But in Japan, more often than not, he found himself surrounded by colleagues, whose names he could hardly remember, eating yakitori by the stick and downing copious amount of sake. Tsubasa discovered that a typical salaryman's work day in Japan was from 5am to 9pm. They often woke up early to catch a two-hour train to work, and then end the work day drinking the night away. Some of his new friends even slept over in manga shops or capsule hotels after drinking so long and hard that they missed the last train.



Tsubasa was appalled by such a lifestyle. Nonetheless, he found himself helplessly drawn in, like a moth to the flame. He was especially found of a quaint little shop by the corner. Unlike its peers, it didn't have large glaring neon signs, just lanterns at the door. The decor inside was traditional too, wooden raised floors and low tables. The shop was manned by only its kimono-clad lady boss and a devoted part-timer, affectionately named Pi.



...........



'Have you heard of the recent robberies around here?'



The lady boss flashed a flicker of concern then quickly resumed her hospitable smile and nodded politely. Tsubasa had never heard her speak. He thought it unusual at first but had since grown to like the silence.



'Perhaps, I can send you home.'



Surprised, the doll-faced woman stared at Tsubasa momentarily. Then shielding a bashful smile with her sleeves, she bowed lightly and promptly left his table.



Tsubasa wanted to crawl under the table and die there. But he didn't. He only drowned his embarrassment with another cup of sake. Was it too soon? After all, it was only his 40th visit in slightly over a month.



Tsubasa didn't know if it was too soon for Takizawa-san, the lady boss. Most girls he knew were quite happy to show him their bedrooms after having exchanged names. But perhaps Takizawa-san was different. There was definitely something about her that was different. And it drove Tsubasa crazy. When he first patronized the shop with his father's old friend, a loyal old-hand in the company, and Takizawa-san helped him take off his coat, Tsubasa knew instantly that she had taken more than just his coat.



After numerous visits and liver torturing, Tsubasa observed that the nice lady only extended the privilege of coat service to him. Unlike with other customers, he too realized that she would spend more time with him. And when she was by his side, she would sit a little too close, smile a little too bright, and pour the sake a little too slowly. It was subtle yet poignant enough to send Tsubasa into a state of euphoria night after night.



..............



Perhaps all good things come to an end.



One night, as Takizawa-san was sending Tsubasa off, she couldn't feel it - the faint thump of his heart. It was gone. No matter how bad things were at work, she never failed to put a shy smile on Tsubasa's lips and send his heart pounding whenever she helped him put on his coat and adjust his collar and tie. At those times, he looked like a proud and contented husband being sent off by his loving and virtuous wife. But that night was not one of those times.



Increasingly, she noticed that Tsubasa was not himself. He had always been a quiet man but recently, he felt distant. He had even stopped smiling like a love-sick puppy at her. She wanted so badly to ask him what was wrong. But she didn't. She couldn't.



.............



'Stop hitting me, please! Please stop! I have a car. Here! The key. Take it!'



'You think it's so easy to offload a car? Or are you hoping for us to get caught?! Why, damn you!'



The gang of young punks was having a field day punching and kicking the living daylights out of Tsubasa when they were interrupted.



'Leave that guy's legs alone! And his face too! Hell, just leave him alone!'



Since no self-respecting gangsters get ordered around by a would-be victim, they turned their mindless violence on the intruder.



'Why? Is that your boyfriend we were playing with?'



There was no answer only the sound of more punches echoing into the night.



.............



'Ouch!'



Tsubasa squirmed.



'You used to be gentler.'



'And you didn't used to stalk me.'



'I wasn't! I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.'



'When? When did you start doing that?'



Takizawa-san tried to sound casual about his identity being discovered.



'A couple of weeks ago.'



Tsubasa answered softly.



'Is that the reason? Is that why you became so... so cold?'



Tsubasa grew silent.



'Because I'm a guy?'



Unable to answer, Tsubasa looked away. He couldn't bear to see Takizawa-san's face.



'But you still came. And you followed me home.'



Tsubasa had thought that Takizawa-san would be upset. On the contrary, he seemed to understand his struggle.



Shelving sentiments aside, Takizawa-san examined Tsubasa's injuries one last time.



'There's nothing serious but the one above your eye may leave a scar.'



Tsubasa frowned, looks were important to him, especially now that his new male friend was so pretty.



'Can I offer you a drink?'



Tsubasa thought about declining. It was already very late.



'Yes, please.'



Takizawa-san smiled.



'Takizawa-san, is it all right for me to be here this late? I can leave.'



'You... can call me Takki. I live alone so you can stay as long as you like.'



Tsubasa flushed a little and waited impatiently as Takki slipped out of the room.



.............



'Do you like breasts?'



Tsubasa half-choked on and half-coughed out the prized sake.



'Erm... I like nipples.'



Tsubasa finally answered, face all red and wrestling unsuccessfully not to peep into the loosely fastened crimson kimono that Takki returned wearing.



Takki smiled broadly, relieved. He might not have breasts, but he had nipples.



'I like nipples too. And things long, thick and hard. Do you?'



Tsubasa found it hard to dislike anything that Takki liked, especially when he was leaning in and breathing into his ear. He believed he would even find a bed of nails agreeable.



He nodded as if in a trance and was about down another cup of sake when Takki stopped him. The dangerously charming man took the cup from Tsubasa, sat legs wide open on the low table in front of him and slipped the kimono off his shoulders. Then with the dreamiest bedroom eyes ever, he poured the fiery liquid down his cream-coloured torso.



'Lick me.'



It was an invitation like no other. Immediately, Tsubasa sprung to his knees and started a licking frenzy.



'Ah... the nipples...'



Soon, Takki was lying on the table dizzy with ecstasy and more saliva on his body than he had ever known. And Tsubasa was about to pour more sake on the sensitive nipples when Takki stopped him again.



'Pour it here.'



Takki hauled himself up and pulled away the remaining silk garment from his lower torso.



...................



'Takki. Takki!'



Tsubasa called out. Takki wasn't by his side when he woke.



'Did I do something or say something?'



He asked himself as he wrecked his fuzzy memory. All he remembered was a lot of sake and even more semen.



Finally he found the object of his desire, still in the nude, examining the scarlet kimono from last night.



'Look at all that semen! Even Mrs Wong from the drycleaner can't possibly get rid of all of them.'



'I'm sorry, Takki Baby. I'll get you a new one.'



Tsubasa prided himself as one who satisfied. It was rather unsettling for someone to pout at him the next morning. But then again, Takki had always been different.



'It'll cost you.'



'How much?'



'A lifetime drinking at my place?'



Tsubasa smiled shyly. It was a price he was more than happy to pay.



'How about we start with some milk for breakfast?'



'Milk? I don't have any in the fridge.'



'But you've got plenty here.'



Tsubasa smirked as he reached for the already perky Taki-chan. Lost for words, Takki playfully punched Tsubasa's abs and buried his blushing face into his client-turned-lover's shoulder. Tsubasa might not say much, but he sure said all the right things.


End - More at http://avery-averette.livejournal.com