The Peddler: Chapter 1
Title: The Peddler
Chapter: 1
Rating: R (for mature themes)
Pairing: Sakuraiba
Summary: My name is Sakurai Sho I'm a Private Investigator and despite the spiffy title, my life is pretty boring. That is until one day when a man walked into my office with an unusual request. My life's not uneventful anymore far from it.
Note(s): This was only supposed to be a drabble but it got out of control. First official chaptered fic I hope I can keep up with it in a timely manner with my short attention span, but the sakuraiba helps oh the yummy imaginary eye candy~
Special Thanks to ariange for the quick read through beta <3
The sound of crunching leaves grew louder alongside the rumble of whimpering steel. The reverberations echoed in the deserted lot. Whoever was coming closer was running their hand across the fence. Someone was coming....but that meant it was an opportunity to get a customer! I undid the slip knot on my belt tugging it through the soft loops and pulled the flaps of my trench coat open and immediately felt a rush of cold air. Shit I forgot they stole my clothes!
Masaki's eyes locked onto my manhood. Even if I had the presence of mind to close the coat, by the look on his face, the image was already burned into his brain for a week. I dared a second glance. Make that for an eternity. Oh God why!
His eyes instantly darted to the coats lining which was dangling with vibrators and sex toy rings. It's hard to look apologetic with neon dildos dangling from your jacket. FML
***
"Two week Earlier"
My new name tag gleamed on the mahogany desk reading Sho Sakurai PI. I finally broke down and ordered one. My secretary said it would make me seem more professional. I curled my hands around my coffee mug and took a long sip. It was actually green tea, but I liked to pretend it was coffee in front of the clients, it seemed more detective-y. As long as you hid the teabag, people just assumed. I looked at the pair sitting in my office from behind my coffee mug. A tall strong faced man with dark hair and a beauty mark under his lip sat fidgeting in his seat next to his ‘associate.’ His partner was dressed in tight leather pants that left little to the imagination. His hair was died a light brown almost blonde and jutted out from underneath a fashionable suede hat. A red line cut across his neck that gave me the impression of a collar. Maybe one had been there before, I didn't care to ask. I guess you could say I'm open minded.
"What can I do for you Mr….?”
"Smith" The dark haired man finished for me. I waited for a first name but he didn’t give one. "And You can help us track down a thief,” He said while folding his slender arms across his chest.
"If it's a stolen item it's best to file a report with the police first." You'd be surprised how many people come to a private investigator before going to the cops.
"We would but...the stolen" The man hesitated, "...Property is something personal. I wouldn't want it to go on a public record.”
I raised an eyebrow come to think of it the man looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him.
"How personal?" Was he a rich mogul who didn't want an embarrassing item leaked? Sex tapes were all the rage nowadays.
He didn't hesitate this time as if he said it fast enough it wouldn’t embarrass him, "A golden vibrator."
I tried not to let the shock show on my face, I didn't think I was doing a very good job. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Listen if you don't wanna take the case, tell us now so we can leave." The man stood to prove his point.
I sighed. "When was the last time you remember seeing the golden,” I hesitated, “Apparatus?" Some people took the term private investigator too literally, but I needed the money. I gave the man my best professional smile. “Mr. Smith,” I tried to say his name as if I really thought it was real, “Is there anyone you can think of who would want to steal from you?”
“It’s made of gold detective, anyone would want it.” He had a point, but a golden vibrator sounded like something you would have to be looking for in order to find. It would be heavy, and I could only assume it would be hella uncomfortable. Maybe that was the point. I didn’t ask.
“Was anything else taken? Do you have any photos of the crime scene? Approximate time etc?”
“The vibrator was taken out of a work vault. All the details can be found in here.” He handed me a cream colored folder. That was convenient, maybe too convenient.
“Why would this particular personal item be in your work vault?” I asked cracking open the manila folder.
“Sometimes I like to take a long lunch break with my associate.” Smith’s lips wriggled into a perverted smile. He stood proudly looking down at his partner. I wonder if he looked down on him often. He sure as hell didn’t strike me as the type to be on the bottom of anything. Or anyone.
Pictures spilled out from the envelope. They showed what looked like a bedroom, the term sex chamber may have been more accurate. Heavy metal brackets were mounted to a black wall in front of dark billowing curtains that enveloped the large mahogany bed frame. At the very back of the room hung a crooked picture, revealing an opened and empty steel safe.
“This is your office?”
“Work hard play hard.” Mr. Smith looked at his partner as he said the word hard, and an emotion I couldn’t quite place flickered across his face. Love? Pity? Lust? Eww. I cleared my throat.
“I’ll leave this in your hands detective Sakurai. Get up my pet,” Mr. Smith put his hands on the light haired man’s shoulders and he rose obediently. I raised an eyebrow, the man raised one back. If we were going to have an eyebrow off this man would win for sure by sheer size alone. I wondered if I should ask pet boy if he needed help, but he was currently nuzzling his "master." He seemed to be enjoying the treatment. To each his own.
***
I walked into what seemed like the millionth small office filling room. I had been investigating Mr. “Smith’s” company all week. Out of all the companies my client, Jun, did business with I was sure I would find someone suspicious but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, even the competitors checked out. Oh and I put two and two together Mr. “Smith” should have known I would figure out who he really was, but maybe he was testing me. Jun Matsumoto, the rich young entrepreneur and playboy, had hired me to find his missing sex toy. Did I mention it was made out of gold? Someone to bring home to mom and dad for sure.
I’d spent my entire day skimming through memos and business transaction of Matsumoto Inc from the past half year, nothing looked suspicious. By the time I left his office the stars were out and I could see my breath in the crisp fall air. Since fellow business partners were clean,it was time to look for anyone with a personal vendetta against Matsumoto. First stop, a bar Matsumoto frequented. Naturally it was in one of the most expensive districts in Tokyo.
***
La Rose wasn’t your ordinary bar. I should have realized anyone willing to foot the bill on gold plated sex toys wouldn’t drink at any old pub. Deep red and purple drapes hung from the ceiling and covered the walls giving the bar an intimate feel. Small tables with satin tablecloths crowded around a small stage in the back, while a fully stocked bar greeted customers with it’s dark oak finishing and elegant seating. Blood red roses sat in crystal vases next to flickering candles. I was willing to bet whoever decorated this place thought it would give the room ambiance, what it really did was make it damn near hard to see. Maybe that was part of the bar's allure; low lighting and alcohol makes everyone look better.
I swaggered up to the bar, you had to look important if you wanted to get information, I laid 20,000 yen on the bar .“What do you know about Jun Matsumoto?”
The bartender looked at the money and casually pocketed it. He’d done this before. “He’s a regular here but goes by the surname nosuke when he’s here”
Jun nosuke, cute.
I asked, “Does he usually socialize with friends or strangers, Seiji?” Names made people more likely to open up, thank god for name tags.
“He’s always with some guy with a collar ‘round his neck,” Seiji picked up a spotless glass and began wiping it with a clean rag.
“I see. Has he angered anyone while he was drunk lately?”
“No, he usually drinks, takes shot off his friend and leaves.” Seiji put down the glass, “He tips well though.”
Great 20,000 yen gone and I had accomplished squat. I ordered scotch on the rocks, as long as I was here might as well do something beneficial.
“Now that I think about it there was something strange that happened the last time he was here.”
I set the glass on the counter harder than I intended too, Seiji jumped. “What is it?” Yes, I was desperate.
“There were some guys selling stuff just outside the door. Vendors aren’t allowed on our property.”
“What were they selling?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but I do know that Mr. nosuke told them to get out of the way.”
“Thanks Seiji.” It was vague information but at least it was something to go on, which was more than I had when I came in, plus the scotch too.
***
I had to pee.
I got up with my drink in hand. Why was I bringing the drink? I may have been a wee bit tipsy. Yes I’m a lightweight, but everyone has there weakness mine just happened to be high proof beverages. So maybe that’s why I walked valiently headfirst into a stranger. I looked up to Apologize.
He was the type of guy I’d run into on purpose. For once my clumsiness paid off. I looked at his face first, before giving him the bottoms up evaluation, it seemed more polite that way.
His dark brown hair framed his face in choppy layers. Long hair. Not long enough to hit his shoulders, but long enough to hold onto. Not that I wanted too. Honest. Scouts honor. No really..I never knew I had a hair fetish before. I must have had an ass fetish too from the way I was staring. I blamed the alcohol.
“Are you going to look all day or do I get an apology drink for ruining my jeans?”
I had been standing there this whole time without a word, I hadn’t even apologized. “I’m sorry I’ll buy you a drink.” I tried to look contrite. “And new pants too,” I added for good measure. It was also an excuse to look at the stain spreading across his crotch; at least it would have been if he hadn’t caught me. He winked. I didn't know how to react, and the alcohol didn't seem to be helping my cognitive reasoning skills.
“I was exaggerating about the ruined jeans,” he let out a breathy laugh that warmed my heart, “Unless you were offering as an excuse to take them off.”
Now it wasn’t just my heart that was warm.
“Just the drink then” he smiled. If he was disheartened he didn’t let it show.
This was going to be an interesting night. I came here for work looks like I was about to have some fun.