by Z. Allora
Oh no!
Getting out of bed, Sage pulled on his jeans. He stood in front of the picture Daiki had painted a decade ago. “Hey, this guy looks a bit like me before I bleached my hair.”
Worry skittered through Daiki. What could he possibly say? Daiki went with the truth. “I’ve been drawing him since I was a teenager.”
“What’s his name?” Sage turned toward the bed.
Daiki took another mind picture, this one of Sage standing in Daiki’s bedroom shirtless, with well-kissed lips and a relaxed, satisfied pose.
“He didn’t have one…. Until recently.” Daiki quickly pulled on some lounge pants and a T-shirt and said, “Let’s go see what I have in the kitchen. One of my assistants usually makes sure the refrigerator is stocked up.”
Sage grabbed him and gave him a deep kiss.
So much for avoiding what he was feeling.
Chapter 8
SAGE OPENED his eyes to soft light seeping in through the window. The all-gray room was silent.
Where was he? This wasn’t his apartment, wasn’t LA. Japan. He was in Japan. He was—he’d slept over at Daiki’s? Holy—
Daiki was nowhere to be found, but a bottle of water and some aspirin sat next to Sage’s cell phone, which was being charged. A now altogether too familiar feeling of sweetness coursed through him. Sage wasn’t used to someone watching out for him. The sugary good feelings were ill-disguised affection, but before Sage could enjoy them, fear of getting used to such things chased the emotion away.
Last night after they had snacked, their conversation turned into sexy banter… at least on his part. Eventually Daiki, with the assistance of another beer, turned the conversation to sex. When the pros and cons of sixty-nining came up, Sage had the bright idea that experience was better than an explanation. Daiki immediately got on board, so to speak, and rode Sage’s mouth to an orgasm while he sucked Sage off. Going all the way back to his apartment afterward seemed like too much trouble and a bit too lonely.
Oh shit!
He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and checked the time. Okay. Plenty of time to change before their first meeting.
Pulling on his clothing, he tried to think of something brilliant to say. He popped a breath mint, finger-combed his hair, then pulled an elastic out of his pocket to secure the hair out of his eyes.
He hesitated at the door. Argh! This was why he avoided the morning after with hookups. It was too weird.
The men were either arrogant, clingy, or simply didn’t measure up in the light of day. What if Daiki developed virginal attachment issues? Sage’s first experience with a guy had caused emotional confusion, so this was a possibility.
What had he done? Worry tackled him. What if now Daiki thought they were together? Why did Sage let his dick think for him?
He braced himself and then poked his head out of the bedroom. Hello, cuteness!
Daiki stared at a computer screen, wearing a fox hat and looking too adorable to be a mangaka god. As he glanced up, Daiki’s expression brightened. “Oh, can I get you something to eat?”
Yes! No! Run! No. Should he be concerned that he wanted to stay… and not because he was hungry? But saying he would love to spend a little more time with Daiki wasn’t right, so he said, “I was going to say I should get going, but, mmm, what’s that delicious smell?”
“I reheated some pork with ginger. Let me get you some?” Daiki hurried to his kitchen area. He scooped some rice from the cooker into bowls and then added the incredibly aromatic pork.
“Sure.” Sage ignored the foreign thrill of pouring tea for two.
Daiki smiled at him as they sat at his kitchen island. He pushed a bowl of rice topped with pork to Sage.
This didn’t seem awkward at all. Daiki wasn’t acting clingy or strange. He was simply Daiki. It had been Sage who was overthinking the situation. So what? They were two guys who got off a couple of times with each other.
It didn’t have to mean anything, but… what if it did? A better question might be, could it mean something?
The adorableness of Daiki’s headgear was—
Daiki followed Sage’s gaze with his hands and touched his head. “Oh no!” He grabbed the hat off his head and set it aside.
The guys Sage had been out with before never blushed. He tried not to be charmed by how alluring Daiki’s blush was as it made him the slightest bit pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
“My fox hat helps me draw. Some of my assistants dress up as the characters they’re working on or admire.” Daiki’s justifying scramble ended in a sigh.
“And not for nothing, but you look pretty cute in the hat.” Smiling at Daiki, Sage tried to keep his feet on the ground. “Hey, I’m for anything that helps creativity.”
He grabbed two pairs of chopsticks out of the cup on the counter and handed a set to Daiki.
Daiki ducked his head. “Thanks. My hat is from the Fushimi Inari Shrine, where my hometown is.”
“That’s the famous Shinto shrine near Kyoto, right?”
“Yes. The shrine is associated with foxes.” Daiki gestured to his hat.
Sage tried to recall. “My mother’s family is from Kyoto. I went there once with my parents. I don’t remember much, but there are a lot of torii gates.”
“Correct. They mark the transition from the mundane to the sacred.”
They ate in a comfortable silence.
Why wasn’t this weird? Any other time Sage would have had to do the walk of shame at a run, but there wasn’t anything shameful about what they shared. He’d enjoyed exploring with Daiki. The man might not have had much experience, but he was a super-quick learner… an excellent student.
Sage liked Ikeda Daiki: the man who could really help him get Kashi-sei off the ground, the mangaka in charge of the manga meant to launch the band successfully, the guy who made him breakfast and wore a fox hat.
This is bad. Sage was in trouble.
Daiki peered at him. “Is everything okay?”
Had he sighed out loud? “Um, yeah. Sorry.” Instead of obsessing over when this would turn uncomfortable, Sage had made it turn weird. He cleared his throat but not his mind, so he tried to change the channel his brain was stuck on with a question. “Do you really think Haru is right about Watanabe Wayuu and Suzuki Zen?”
Daiki was silent a moment and then nodded. “Being part of the band? Yes. They were both electric. They play multiple instruments. Their fans were fanatical, which wasn’t a bad thing. Though they both seem hemmed in by idol expectations.”
Sage chuckled. “It would be interesting to see their interactions working together.”
“Mm, though I do worry about the tension between them.” Daiki finished his tea.
“Though sometimes friction can be good.” Why was Sage flirting?
Daiki peeked up through his lashes at Sage. “As you showed me last night.”
Sage opened his mouth, but only breath came out.
Daiki’s lips twitched, and then he pressed his pleased smile flat as he poured more tea for Sage.
Sage had to admit he liked this. Having breakfast with someone and just talking about things. He shouldn’t get used to it. Perhaps he should count it as a win that last night’s activities didn’t appear to have damaged their relationship.
He put his dishes in the sink and cleared Daiki’s. “I’m going to head out so I can be ready for our meetings.”
Daiki walked him to the door.
Should Sage hug him? Bow? His parents certainly didn’t say how to act on departing the morning after, and for all his research, no one had covered this topic.
“See you,” Sage muttered as he escaped into the hallway.
Daiki followed him to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited with him.
Smiling, he gave Daiki a nod. Of course Daiki observed the custom of waiting until someone was out of sight before considering the goodbye over. Some of Sage’s extended family practiced this as well. The gesture made him feel cared
about.
Maybe he shouldn’t enjoy having Daiki waiting for him to get on the elevator. Sage pushed the button again.
From the digital number appearing one floor up from them, the car seemed stuck there. The closest stairs were down the hall.
He glanced at Daiki.
Mistake. The sunlight from the hall window made his skin glow, reminding Sage of how smooth and nice he was to touch.
Finally the elevator doors binged open.
Now he didn’t want to leave. He stepped inside.
Daiki grinned as if he could read the reluctance. “I will see you soon.”
Sage nodded and waved.
Daiki kept waving until the doors were closed.
Oh wow! Sage put his hand to his heart and leaned against the back wall. How could such a simple thing mean so much to him? But it did. It totally did.
The mirrored walls of the elevator told him he shouldn’t be concerned about Daiki’s having attachment issues—maybe he should worry if he didn’t.
Sage caught a cab back to his apartment. As Tokyo whooshed by, he couldn’t help but feel whatever had begun to happen between him and Daiki was totally different from anything he’d experienced before.
Sage wasn’t a player, but he’d been with a number of men. Most turned out to be pillow princes and were usually more work than fun. At least the men he’d met. They acted like he should be grateful for the privilege of being allowed to top and blow them. He didn’t mind, but God, he wanted more.
Easy access had become boring.
Not that he wanted difficult or dramatic… or even a relationship, but meeting someone real with something other than becoming a star on their minds was nothing short of a miracle. The fact Daiki cared about making the world a better place—well, that was amazing.
Daiki was amazing… and Sage wanted more Daiki.
BACK IN another cab, Sage held his imaginary drumsticks and beat a happy tune in the air on the way to the meeting.
He stepped into the conference room and joined the three people already there.
Haru gave him a nod.
The agent stood and greeted him.
Sage could barely take his gaze off Daiki to return the greetings. Daiki wore a dark suit and a white button-up shirt with a purple tie, but what captured Sage’s attention was Daiki’s smile. His smile reached his eyes and was filled with affection. Warmth sparked fires inside Sage. “Beautiful… day.”
The agent squinted and glanced out the window. “It’s pouring outside.”
The door opened, and Suzuki Zen stepped in.
Greetings, cards, and bows were exchanged. Everyone took a seat.
Across the table from Sage sat someone who would rather cut than speak politely, take than ask, and had the biggest chip on his shoulder Sage had ever seen, and since he’d grown up in LA, that was saying something.
Suzuki Zen was nothing Sage had expected. The demure singer always appeared mild and meek on stage, even when he had wild purple hair. He was soft-spoken… and gentle.
The Zen across from them clicked his thumb ring against the row of his ear piercings and stared at them with a dead expression. Then he finger-combed his dark shag-cut hair and glared at them. “Not what you hoped for, huh?”
Sage glanced at Daiki. He turned back to Zen and winked in exaggerated LA fashion. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I know the expectations people have, and I’m just no longer willing to pretend I live up to the innocent bubblegum idol that was created.”
“Good….” Sage wasn’t sure how to word it. “I’m looking for artists to be themselves. I don’t want a group of stereotypes meant to pander to an audience or societal expectations. I want—”
“Yeah, until the label presses you or the bottom line doesn’t meet your target goal.”
Sage opened his mouth, but Daiki touched his hand and chimed in, “That’s why he is doing Kashi-sei without assistance from labels or sponsors.”
“I’ve heard you’re pouring your own money into this. Really?” Zen eyed him.
“Yes.”
Zen studied him. “Why?”
“Whether it’s here, America, Europe, or the Middle East, music has the ability to get past the bullshit society tries to dish out. Music is always on the forefront of change.”
A little of Zen’s defiance seemed to drop with his shoulders.
Sage didn’t have the luxury of not being totally honest. “And it broke my damned heart to lose Fire and WTZ.”
Zen straightened, and his face scrunched up. “Pff, Fire. They were nothing.”
Daiki’s mouth dropped open as he stared at Zen.
Haru chuckled.
“What? Compared to WTZ? Ha! Fire was nothing but flashing lights and fancy dance moves.”
“You can’t cut Watanabe Wayuu’s talent.” Haru pointed out the obvious.
“And I never would. His voice is a rare and precious gift. He has the ability to embody song.” The reverence in his voice was duplicated in his expression and then disappeared like notes in the air. “However, the rest of the Fire members lacked talent. Fire were decent to look at, but they didn’t have anything other than gymnastic dance moves… and Watanabe Wayuu.”
He wasn’t completely wrong. None of the other members had seemed truly interested in music; they’d been more interested in capturing more fans by appealing to mass expectations.
Zen used his chin to indicate he spoke directly to Haru. “I’ve heard you just have to play the music once and it’s yours.”
Haru rolled his eyes. “You heard wrong.”
Dropping back in his seat, Zen shook his head. “Nah, a bunch of bands say that.”
The smirk Haru gave him was a mix of fuck off and I’m fucking with you. “I only have to hear the song and it’s mine.”
“Nice… and modest.” Zen nodded, appearing impressed and then trying to cover it.
“Who says you can’t be more than one thing?” Haru grinned at him and then directed his focus back onto Sage.
Daiki also stared in Sage’s direction.
Sage went into his well-worn spiel about Kashi-sei, but Zen leaned forward, not bothering to hide his interest, and that made Sage hopeful. He ended with, “I want Kashi-sei to be more than just an idol band. I want our music to make a real difference. I’m not in this to make money, though if it puts anyone’s mind at rest, one of my dad’s financial analysts says we would probably break even in the third year.”
“And this is worth it to you?” Zen stared at him.
Daiki interjected, “Suzuki-san, have you heard his YouTube channel?”
“Call me Zen, and actually I have. But Sage, how do we know you won’t get bored and fold in a month?”
Sage returned the favor of pointing out the obvious. “After you signed with WTZ, how did you know that band wasn’t going to break up in a month?”
Zen shrugged. He frowned at the detail page and then spun the paper in a circle.
“The salary is to compensate for loss of future potential income.” Sage needed to be up-front.
Exhaling hard, Zen stopped the twirling page. “It’s generous, but the scope of this….”
“It’s intense,” Daiki added. “And a risk. Everyone involved is taking a chance.”
Good, Daiki! How did he say so little but make the maximum impact?
Zen studied each of them in turn. “Are you asking me to join?”
Nodding, Sage clarified, “I wouldn’t have wasted your time if we weren’t sure you’d add to Kashi-sei.”
“But why would you consider it?” Haru asked the most important question.
Zen hesitated. He grabbed the water bottle in front of him and drank slowly. Recapping it, he pushed the bottle back to its original spot.
Sage bit back a smile. The singer’s ability to hold an audience’s attention even while sipping water was impressive.
Tilting his head at the agency representative, Zen asked, “Can this stay in this room, j
ust between Kashi-sei members?”
Sage gave her a nod.
“I’ll return shortly.” Maybe she realized she wasn’t adding much value, or perhaps she wanted deniability later on.
“I should—” Daiki stood.
Sage grabbed his hand. “You may not play an instrument, but you are part of Kashi-sei.”
After a moment of what looked like indecision, Daiki sank back into his seat.
The door clicked closed, and Zen said, “My sister is X-gender and is dating a girl.”
Wanting to make sure he understood, Sage asked, “That’s similar to the term nonbinary?”
Haru nodded. “Yeah, basically. X-gender is not adhering to the gender binary. Zen, what pronouns does your sister use?”
“She hasn’t done anything other than to tell me. I want my sister to be able to live as she wants when she’s ready. So I’d be doing this for her.” Zen looked down. “Plus… I miss it.”
“The crowds and adoration?” Haru asked.
“Playing music… but yeah, the fans were great too. I miss working on new songs and singing. I miss being in a band.” Zen’s harsh mellowed even further.
Might as well know now, so Sage asked, “If we were looking to have two singers, any issue?”
Zen narrowed his eyes. “Depends on who.”
Sage couldn’t resist. “Who do you want to work with?”
Zen gave him a smirk and shook his head. “He’d never agree to it.”
“Who?” Sage pressed him, because Zen coughing up an admission would go a long way in bridging the gap between the two singers.
“It’s crazy after everything that happened, but I’ve always wanted to work directly with… Watanabe Wayuu.” Maybe Daiki was making Sage use a love-is-in-the air filter, but he swore everything about Zen softened when he breathed out Wayuu’s name.
“Aren’t you pissed that what he said basically ended WTZ?” Haru studied him.
“He was only telling the truth. I am hot.” Zen stated the fact with such a straight face Sage dared not chuckle.
