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Not Another Boy Band

Page 6

by Z. Allora


  “How do you know I’m not?” He wasn’t, but he’d thought he’d been hiding it.

  “You’re up on the roof trying to look for a way out of going to whoever has gotten you dressed up.”

  “I’m not—” Akihiro’s arched eyebrow stole the rest of Daiki’s lie. “I will go, but what about you?”

  “My time has passed. My wife is divorcing me.” Akihiro laid his pain out in such a matter-of-fact way.

  What could Daiki say without being intrusive? “Akihiro… I’m sorry.”

  “One in three marriages now end in divorce. This is not unusual. We agree it’s time. Neither of us is pleased with our lives.” He patted Daiki on the back. “This is why I’m telling you to live and enjoy.”

  Daiki couldn’t help his friend or himself. “This is going to be a disaster.”

  “Isn’t it you who reminds all of us that the best stories are?”

  Chapter 6

  SAGE STOOD under the Forever 21 sign, which cast a rainbow of colors onto the sidewalk. His leather coat kept him warm, but he still wore a pair of fingerless gloves.

  People strolled down the street. Another without a jacket! They must be used to the harsher temperatures of this so-called heatwave. Low sixties was not the time to abandon jackets.

  Some cruised and tried to make eye contact while others chatted with friends, paying him no mind as they meandered by.

  The quarter buzzed with neon-lit nightclubs, throbbing music seeping out of their doors. Mixed in were quieter bars. Advertisements for friendly drag shows were posted in shop windows. Ni-chōme was the spot for queer people to gather, to be, and to be seen.

  This wasn’t home, but Sage could finally take his first deep breath since he landed in Narita Airport. He might not have been born here, and he didn’t know any of the people passing, but here they were family, tied together by having a place on the rainbow. Each was connected by something deeper than birthplace, something encoded inside, linking them together, and it reinforced his belief he was doing the right thing with Kashi-sei.

  So why was he playing with fire?

  The answer stood across the street, waiting to cross. The light changed. Damn, Daiki had a sexy walk. He had changed into dark jeans, which clung to him, and a deep purple button-up shirt. His disheveled hair looked like… yup. Daiki dragged his fingers through the strands again, and Sage enjoyed how that made his hair appear tangled, like he’d just gotten laid.

  Mm, attachment issues didn’t seem that much of a downside. The need to guide Daiki’s head to the side so he could trace his tongue across Daiki’s neck and Adam’s apple assaulted Sage. Gliding his mouth along Daiki’s shoulder, he’d mark him so no one but the two of them would know.

  If there were boxes of what attracted Sage, Daiki checked all of them and then some. It was the then some that caused the worry.

  Today in the meetings, Daiki had excelled in asking the right questions and soothing Sage better than anyone ever. Ha, the fact that Daiki understood when he was upset…. Hell, most of his friends back home didn’t pick up on it unless he became unhinged.

  So sex between the two of them wouldn’t only be knocking against a sexy body—their connection felt real. Not a good thing when Sage’s intention was to avoid any such complications.

  Daiki being so tightly held together, not emotionless but restrained, didn’t help Sage’s resolve not to go there either. Sage had a bit of a healthy fetish for turning someone’s control off by tipping their world upside down, and the more controlled they were the better. He longed to see an untamed version of Daiki. What would that be like?

  Damn, he couldn’t blow off one of the most basic rules of business: you don’t screw your coworkers. He shouldn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t. Oh, but he so wanted to fuck Daiki, suck him, lick him, do all the things to him, with him, and for him.

  Something told him Daiki didn’t do casual, so Sage really shouldn’t go there. If he needed to get his dick attended to, he should manage it without being stuck with a boyfriend.

  Though imagining Daiki hurrying toward him on a regular basis wouldn’t be a hardship. Not at all.

  Keep it professional!

  Daiki glanced at his phone quickly and then asked, “I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

  “Nope, right on time.” He tried to stop smiling but couldn’t. Daiki was even punctual.

  “Where do you want to go?” Daiki looked around like he was the tourist.

  “I’m not sure, but one of my friends said 7-Eleven needs to be our first stop so we can prime the pump.” Sage wanted the full experience.

  Daiki’s nose scrunched in the cutest way. “Prime the pump?”

  “That’s what a friend of mine calls it. He recommended drinking a couple of cans of the 100 yen before hitting a club.” The point wasn’t about whether he could afford expensive bar drinks, but there was a certain principle and ritual he wanted to observe. And, well, the novelty of buying cocktails from a convenience store seemed like something he shouldn’t miss.

  The indulgent smile Daiki gave him made Sage want to see every kind of smile Daiki had, and he longed to have them all for himself. He stopped dead. How had he lost track of the beat? Maybe because he didn’t know what song he was trying to play….

  Daiki tapped his phone for a second, and a map showed where the 7-Eleven was. He pointed down the block. “This way.”

  The rainbow flags waved in front of bars, and music spilled out, welcoming them down side streets. Billboards on how to prevent HIV lit the way. Lockers lined the walls outside the dance clubs to store personal belongings, bags, and jackets.

  People zigzagged between clubs. It was a decent crowd for a Thursday night.

  The orange-and-green sign beckoned them.

  Sage stepped through the door Daiki held open for him into the 7-Eleven. The windows and walls had a lot of posters, many of which were of bands being promoted. Others were various anime characters. Apart from the anime posters and some different varieties of products, the store looked pretty much like the ones at home—except for the extensive refrigerated section of alcohol. So many varieties of fun cocktails screamed out to him from their colorful cans. They got a couple each.

  Once outside Daiki popped his open. “Kanpai!”

  The toast meant dry cup. When in Japan…. “Bottoms up.” His own poor choice of words made him snort because, as appealing as that was, no one’s bottom would be up. He slowed his drinking until he could swallow without choking.

  Daiki squinted at him.

  He waved him off. “Immature, dumb joke. Kanpai!”

  They pounded back their second can and then put them both in the recycle bin before they continued down the street, past several neon-lit stores and restaurants.

  As they turned down Naka-Dori, the number of people grew. It was an average-looking street for Tokyo, but there were lots of standing signs on the sidewalk, directing people to their interests. These advertised massage parlors, restaurants, and various types of bars. Some of these bars included escort service, if Sage was understanding that correctly.

  “I heard if someone hands you a tissue, they are really asking for you to join them in….” Sage’s mouth failed him as Daiki’s eyes widened.

  “Asking you to join them in… what?” Daiki asked as he peered up the stairs that led to a bar.

  Why did Sage even bring that up? “Um, sexual activities.”

  “Oh.” Daiki nodded as if trying to find a place to store that information.

  Each bar and club had their own cluster of people in front. Some groups were dressed to the nines, toasting with colorful drinks in fancy glasses, and in front of other establishments, people were laid-back, just sipping their beer.

  Sage scrambled for something to say. “They are able to serve alcohol outdoors?”

  “Of course.”

  As they walked past a bar, two blonds stumbled out, laughing and kissing.

  Daiki’s wide-eyed glances evolved into him stumbling to
a stop to stare at the two men against the building. Public displays of affection weren’t something Sage had ever seen much of in Japan. Though he couldn’t imagine not bumping into people having full-on sex outside of some bars in LA.

  He’d seen hand-holding here, but his parents had taught him public displays of affection were a tad tacky and simply not done. However, this fed his taboo-breaking nature, making the tiniest gestures of physical affection in public huge.

  Sage never understood why visitors couldn’t respect the cultural differences. Although isn’t that what he was doing with the band? Damn! “Um, we can go someplace else if you’d rather.”

  “No.” Daiki stiffened and pressed his lips together.

  “You sure?” Sage might be reading him wrong, but he’d bet the tension in Daiki’s body was caused by the allure and not censure of the forbidden make-out session.

  “Yeah. I’m trying to be someone I’m not….”

  “Who’s that?”

  Daiki whirled around to stare at him. “I said that out loud?”

  The cuteness in this tall, handsome man would do Sage in for sure. “Yes. Who are you trying to be?”

  “Someone who takes risks. And goes for what they want.”

  So Daiki was attempting to step out of his comfort zone. Sage found that intriguing and wanted to help… a little too much.

  As they passed another bar, a guy tried to hand Daiki a beer. “Here you go.”

  “Sorry, I’m with a friend.” Daiki pushed his hands into his pockets.

  The man grinned. “I can be your friend, mate.”

  Annoyance wound through Sage. God, he hated pushy men. They shouldn’t be throwing themselves at Daiki. Sage was standing right here.

  “I can be your best friend,” the guy persisted. Either he was drunk or stupid.

  “He’s with me.” Sage threw an arm around Daiki to clarify the point.

  After a visual groping, the guy purred at Sage, “Oh… I can be your friend too.”

  Daiki pressed his body to Sage’s, fitting perfectly against him.

  “I think not. Have a good night.” Sage guided Daiki around Mr. Irritating. They passed two other bars and a club. He recognized the name as one of the places Ryder said should be on his must-do list. “Let’s go in there.”

  Daiki nodded.

  Sage put his jacket in a locker and then hiked up the stairs as the trance music got louder.

  After the ID checks, Sage pointed to a prime table in the corner. The wooden seats had a view of the lightshow that flickered across the dance floor but appeared tucked away so conversation might be possible. The room was a combination of bright colors and mirrors.

  “I’ll get us… the specialty drink of the house?” After a nod from Daiki, Sage went to the well-stocked bar. The bartender was backed up, which gave Sage a chance to take a peek at Daiki.

  Daiki seemed mesmerized by the various same-sex couples on the dance floor, and not exactly comfortable, if his squirming was any indication.

  Had he misread Daiki? Maybe Daiki wasn’t gay or bi or—

  Sage needed to apologize. He got back to the table, and after Daiki thanked him for the colorful drink, Sage jumped in. “Hey, I’m sorry I assumed you’re gay or at least bi.”

  Daiki showed him all his pretty teeth. “Are you asking? Because no one ever asked me that before.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m stumbling.” This was worse than having no spares when he broke his drumstick during his solo in front of his entire high school. Fear threatened to choke him, but he buried that memory.

  Daiki twirled the umbrella from his drink. “I am.”

  Stupid happiness abruptly replaced Sage’s distress, like this was the best news ever. And why was he blushing? He could feel his cheeks catch on fire. “Ignore me. Give me a drink and I’m all kinds of ugly American.”

  “Or three.” Daiki reminded him of the prime-the-pump drinks.

  “Sorry I got nosy.” Sage grinned.

  “I don’t mind.” Daiki glanced down but smiled back up at him with so many of his needs and wants laid out like notes on a music score.

  The hungry look lit something in Sage, so he asked, “How many partners have you had?”

  “Well, other than a couple of girlfriends in high school and one in manga college at Kyoto Seika University, I haven’t really dated.”

  “So no boyfriends?” Sage tried to keep disbelief out of his voice.

  “Oh… um, no.”

  Maybe he was a one-off kind of a guy. “You stick mostly to hookups and—”

  Daiki’s gasp informed Sage that he was way off base with his free-loving assumptions. Partly this made him happy, but another part reminded him that was another reason to keep things business-friendly.

  Frowning, Daiki shook his head. “I really haven’t had much time for relationships, and being a mangaka doesn’t really lend itself to meeting people.”

  “From what I understand, you’re always on a tight deadline.”

  Nodding, Daiki said, “That’s true, but you must think I’m lame.”

  “I think it’s cool.” He envied the man Daiki eventually played discovery with, but that would not, and could not, be him. That would be bad… on so many levels.

  Daiki snorted. “Cool? That I have so little experience?”

  Time to backpedal a bit and maybe get some distance from romancing the idea of being his first. “Actually, yes. Most guys I’ve dated have been around and are jaded.”

  Toying with the paper umbrella, Daiki frowned. “So you’ve dated a lot.”

  “Some. Nothing really serious.” Sage didn’t know why he hesitated with his information. He’d been with a fair number of guys, but nowhere near the average for a gay man in LA—at least according to Ryder.

  “Really?” Daiki leaned back and stared at him.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re smart, funny, and a very great-looking…. Sorry.” Daiki shook his head and refocused on spinning the tiny umbrella.

  “Nice to be appreciated.” Especially coming from someone as lovely on the eyes as Daiki.

  “Come on, I’m sure lots of guys tell you you’re….”

  “What?”

  “You know….” The shyness creeping into Daiki’s voice did things it shouldn’t to Sage.

  “Actually, I’m run-of-the-mill. Nothing special in LA. I’m not famous, and I can’t make anyone a star. Therefore I’m not of much value.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Daiki said it with such sincere conviction Sage wanted to help him with a taste of really stepping outside his comfort zone, if only once….

  No! Bad idea.

  Daiki pounded back his drink. His eyes had a dreamy quality to them, and his body was loose. Was he drunk?

  He leaned into Sage, resting against him. “It’s probably a super bad idea to tell you I find you attractive and very easy to be with.”

  “What?” Oh God. Everything in Sage started responding. He needed less talking. The DJ broke into the trance music and switched to a popular song. “Let’s dance!”

  Once on the dance floor, everyone seemed to want to get close to Daiki. He frowned and appeared to be a bit overwhelmed by the crush of people, or maybe it was Sage who wanted to keep people away.

  Since he had foreigner emblazoned in his every move, Sage nudged two men out of the way to get to Daiki. He grabbed Daiki’s hand and tugged him to a corner of the dance floor. Sage stopped himself from grinding on Daiki because this wasn’t the place for that. But the way Daiki wore his desire in his eyes made Sage want to think about a place—

  “I can tell you’re a musician,” Daiki called out.

  “Why?”

  “The music seeps into your body and seems to be forced out through your liquid movements. Thick liquid, like the way a good paint coats the canvas with one swipe of the brush, turning everything another shade.”

  Daiki wasn’t only an artist with pictures but with words too.

  “No one has ever sai
d anything like that to me.” Sage tried not to be ridiculously touched, but he was.

  Pressing his lips together with a glint of determination in his eyes, Daiki said, “I can’t imagine why not.”

  “You’re going to make my face red,” Sage tried to joke, but the way Daiki stared at him with such longing wasn’t funny.

  Sage swallowed hard around the affection bubbling out from his heart. He’d been with guys who said all the right things but never one who actually meant them. He reached out slowly, giving Daiki a chance to step back, but when he didn’t, Sage wrapped an arm around Daiki’s waist and tugged him closer.

  Dance floors, wherever in the world, allowed you to be in public but alone in your world of two.

  Daiki moved in perfect sync with Sage. They shifted, rocked, and glided, but their bodies were still teasing inches apart. Why couldn’t he take his gaze off Daiki’s?

  Sage wanted him. It was that simple and that complex.

  After forever, or maybe two more songs, the dance floor started to clear out. How late was it? Someone tapped Sage on the shoulder. “The last train is in twenty minutes.”

  Sage muttered, “Thank you,” and gave a quick bow.

  Daiki didn’t look pleased, but then his face morphed into a grin. “You want to come over to my studio and see my manga collection?”

  Sage opened and closed his mouth at Daiki’s come-do-me expression. The shameless eighteenth-century come-on of using art as justification still worked its magic. Manga… etchings….

  No, he couldn’t. “Yes, I’d love to.”

  His dick was on board, as were his lips and mouth, but his brain screamed, “Bad idea.” At the same time, his heart said, “What could it hurt?”

  I shouldn’t be going to his studio. I know that’s his apartment. What am I doing?

  “The train station is this way.” Daiki had his phone out to guide them.

  Sage pulled his coat out of the locker.

  Fuck the trains. He waved and called out, “Taxi!”

  “It’ll be a hundred US dollars.”

  Sage shrugged. He’d have paid a thousand, because the sooner they got behind closed doors, the better. “It’s on me. Just give him the address,” he said as he pulled a shocked Daiki into the back seat.

 

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