PSOH Tokyo, "Cake"
Title: Cake
Rating: Grrrr! (PG-13 for titlillation)
Pairing: Count D & Taizuu
I hope you like the taste of this one...it is the 2nd of possibly more.
Cake
”You again, is it?” Taizuu observed with peevish excitement, reluctantly motioning to his henchmen to depart. He shut the Pet Shop’s door behind them, suppressing an urge to follow them out.
Encounters with this exotic man were more than likely to get out of hand, as the owner of Neo Chinatown knew too well. No need for witnesses, then. Taizuu had an image to uphold, even if it was only for his own personal satisfaction.
“Indeed. My grandson is out today, collecting. Thus, I am here to serve. Cake?”
Count D’s doppelganger motioned at the tiered display before him, liberally scattered with petite confections. He handed Taizuu an unwanted cup of tea.
Woo Fei sat, unwilling, clutching his cup and saucer awkwardly before him, two cushions away from the elder Count.
Grandson, my ass.
This man had made a fool of him before. He must tread carefully.
The Count gestured again at the tray, a long elegant white hand liberally tipped with manicured talons, polished the color of mint sherbet. Taizuu shook his head.
“No cake?”
“No. I don’t like sweet things.”
“No? Then why do you drop by so often, Taizuu?”
The owner of Neo Chinatown bit his tongue in an effort not to respond to that little jibe. He maintained his careful silence, sipping tea through clenched teeth.
“You must know my grandson much prefers the sweet,” the teasing voice continued. “That is all you are likely to be offered here…to eat, of course.” Red lips curved provocatively.
“Y-yes.”
An unwilling blush stained Woo Fei’s cheeks, just imagining.
The Count demurely sashayed his silk-wrapped ass one cushion closer to Woo Fei, who gripped his teacup tighter and stared rigidly straight ahead. The brocaded cloth that wrapped that slim body was lime-green today, and it made D’s golden eyes sparkle like fine old French champagne. Just one more reason not to look too closely at his companion, Woo Fei was certain. Better safe than sorry.
“Tell me, Taizuu. Do you have a tuxedo in that businessman’s closet of yours?”
Foolishly surprised at the unexpected question, Woo Fei slewed round to stare at the man beside him, teacup rattling on its saucer.
“Y-yes, of course I do. I attend many social functions for business reasons. Most, if not all, require formal dress. Why do you…ask?”
Ah.
Golden eyes tangled with his chocolate brown ones, drawing him in. He shifted, not thinking, and edged a little closer to his nemesis.
Very, very pretty, those eyes. Like a cat’s eyes, soft and mysterious. Or ancient gold, Minoan treasure, reclaimed from the depths of the past. They were perfectly set, yellow diamonds in a pale, sharp face that was oddly mask-like, but beautiful all the same.
He could spend a great deal of time looking at collection of angles and lines, Taizuu thought dreamily, and not be in any way bored.
“Then, my dear sir, I believe that I shall require your company this evening. You are not otherwise occupied?”
“W-what?” Taizuu blinked rapidly, taken back by the sudden invitation. Or , wait, wasn’t it more like an ‘order’? But…even so, the Count had a very persuasive voice.
“Pardon?”
The Count edged a millimeter nearer, his sleeve brushing against Woo Fei’s as he leaned forward to carefully select a petite Napoleon from the cake tier. The boss attempted to ignore the brief contact, failing entirely when D turned to him in a confiding way, the barest tip of his pink tongue peeking out as he lapped a trace of pastry cream from those moist red lips, having consumed the Napoleon in just two bites.
“Mmmm, delicious. My grandson tells me I must attend a certain party this evening, and that I must bring with me a guest.” The Count slid a hand onto Taizuu’s knee. “I’d enjoy the pleasure of your company, Taizuu. If you’re free, of course?”
He angled his pointy chin up as he inquired, treating Woo Fei to a simmering glance from beneath a fan of lashes so luxuriant they should be illegal. Taizuu inhaled sharply, enchanted, and found himself nodding eagerly.
“Y-yes, of course. I’m free as bird, as it happens. I’ll be happy to accompany you.”
“Excellent,” the Count nodded, patting him gently. “Then we’ll meet at Shin-Ōsaka Station at eight this evening.”
“What!? All the way there? That’s more than seven hours by car! I’d have to take the Shinkasen to get there on time and it’s already four! Be reasonable, Count!”
“Oh? That is a problem for you? Ah, well…” The Count shrugged, regretfully. “No matter. I’m sure I can find someone else.”
“Wait! I didn’t say I wouldn’t go, did I? It’s just…it’s just rather, um, short notice, that’s all,” Woo Fei stumbled about verbally, desperate not to lose his chance to discover more about this man who was so…intriguing. A few hours of his company would be …invigorating. Yes, that was the word.
“The Shinkansen, then. That’s only, what, two, two-and-a-half hours, right? If I leave soon, I can make it, I’m sure.”
Daring, he reached out and patted the Count’s hand where it still rested on his knee, lingering just a moment too long. The Count smiled sweetly and squeezed the boney curve in response, sending tiny tendrils of heat whispering up Taizuu’s leg.
“It’s simple; I’ll just there, then. So, that’s settled. It’ll be fine. And now you don’t have to go to the trouble of finding someone else suitable this late in the day, Count. I’ll be more than happy-”
Flustered, well aware that he was starting to babble, and sporting an increasingly sensitive knee, Woo Fei shut his mouth with a snap, snatching his errant hand back and setting his cup-and-saucer down on the table with a clatter. He stood up in a hurry, gathering his long legs beneath him like a giraffe, already thinking about timetables and carry-on bags, arranging for his chauffer and letting the office know. It would be one hell of a scramble and he knew it. Oddly, it didn’t faze him one bit.
“Well, then, I should be going, shouldn’t I? To get there on time, that is.”
The Count rose as well, gracefully, settling his silks around him. The cool clear green did indeed enhance those remarkable eyes, Woo Fei noted.
“So kind of you, really, Taizuu. I’m glad I asked such a…dependable man.”
“Yes! Yes, dependable. They have called me that.” The businessman stood stark still for a split-second, gazing down at the cause of all his excitement, before turning abruptly toward the door.
He had his hand on the knob when he remembered to turn and say “Thank you.” The Count was just there, right beside him, smiling beatifically, as though Taizuu were a knight in shining armor.
“No, no, I must thank you, dear sir,” Count D purred. “I look forward to it.”
Neo Chinatown’s owner blushed again. He couldn’t help it.
In a flash, the Count went on tiptoe and pressed a light kiss against Woo Fei’s burning cheek.
“Something sweet to thank you….since you don’t eat cake, Taizuu. I’ll see this evening, hmm?”
“A-ah! Y-y-yes!” gabbled Woo Fei and practically fell through the open door, bolting across the hallway to the sanctuary of the emergency stairwell.
He took the stairs down from the 13th floor, grateful for a chance to hide his beet-red face. The rapid stumble down so many steps would explain his shortness of breath, he thought, and he could duck into his office before anyone saw him…and the telltale bulge in his thin wool dress pants.
It wasn’t till he was at his desk, arranging for his tickets and barking orders to his housekeeper over the speakerphone, when he remembered that the Count had never mentioned how he was going to get to Kyoto by eight.
Logically, the Count should be in just as much of a rush as Woo Fei was. But he hadn’t seemed the slightest bit hurried, which was downright strange.
But, for the first time ever, Woo Fei decided that it was acceptable that he didn’t know the answer to that. It would be acceptable not to probe D for answers later, too, because he really didn’t care how the Count was going to get there, as long as he got there.
It would be quite enough just to be his chosen companion for a period longer than a mere fifteen minutes-
that charming, mysterious, maddening man-whoever the hell he really was.
Rating: Grrrr! (PG-13 for titlillation)
Pairing: Count D & Taizuu
I hope you like the taste of this one...it is the 2nd of possibly more.
Cake
”You again, is it?” Taizuu observed with peevish excitement, reluctantly motioning to his henchmen to depart. He shut the Pet Shop’s door behind them, suppressing an urge to follow them out.
Encounters with this exotic man were more than likely to get out of hand, as the owner of Neo Chinatown knew too well. No need for witnesses, then. Taizuu had an image to uphold, even if it was only for his own personal satisfaction.
“Indeed. My grandson is out today, collecting. Thus, I am here to serve. Cake?”
Count D’s doppelganger motioned at the tiered display before him, liberally scattered with petite confections. He handed Taizuu an unwanted cup of tea.
Woo Fei sat, unwilling, clutching his cup and saucer awkwardly before him, two cushions away from the elder Count.
Grandson, my ass.
This man had made a fool of him before. He must tread carefully.
The Count gestured again at the tray, a long elegant white hand liberally tipped with manicured talons, polished the color of mint sherbet. Taizuu shook his head.
“No cake?”
“No. I don’t like sweet things.”
“No? Then why do you drop by so often, Taizuu?”
The owner of Neo Chinatown bit his tongue in an effort not to respond to that little jibe. He maintained his careful silence, sipping tea through clenched teeth.
“You must know my grandson much prefers the sweet,” the teasing voice continued. “That is all you are likely to be offered here…to eat, of course.” Red lips curved provocatively.
“Y-yes.”
An unwilling blush stained Woo Fei’s cheeks, just imagining.
The Count demurely sashayed his silk-wrapped ass one cushion closer to Woo Fei, who gripped his teacup tighter and stared rigidly straight ahead. The brocaded cloth that wrapped that slim body was lime-green today, and it made D’s golden eyes sparkle like fine old French champagne. Just one more reason not to look too closely at his companion, Woo Fei was certain. Better safe than sorry.
“Tell me, Taizuu. Do you have a tuxedo in that businessman’s closet of yours?”
Foolishly surprised at the unexpected question, Woo Fei slewed round to stare at the man beside him, teacup rattling on its saucer.
“Y-yes, of course I do. I attend many social functions for business reasons. Most, if not all, require formal dress. Why do you…ask?”
Ah.
Golden eyes tangled with his chocolate brown ones, drawing him in. He shifted, not thinking, and edged a little closer to his nemesis.
Very, very pretty, those eyes. Like a cat’s eyes, soft and mysterious. Or ancient gold, Minoan treasure, reclaimed from the depths of the past. They were perfectly set, yellow diamonds in a pale, sharp face that was oddly mask-like, but beautiful all the same.
He could spend a great deal of time looking at collection of angles and lines, Taizuu thought dreamily, and not be in any way bored.
“Then, my dear sir, I believe that I shall require your company this evening. You are not otherwise occupied?”
“W-what?” Taizuu blinked rapidly, taken back by the sudden invitation. Or , wait, wasn’t it more like an ‘order’? But…even so, the Count had a very persuasive voice.
“Pardon?”
The Count edged a millimeter nearer, his sleeve brushing against Woo Fei’s as he leaned forward to carefully select a petite Napoleon from the cake tier. The boss attempted to ignore the brief contact, failing entirely when D turned to him in a confiding way, the barest tip of his pink tongue peeking out as he lapped a trace of pastry cream from those moist red lips, having consumed the Napoleon in just two bites.
“Mmmm, delicious. My grandson tells me I must attend a certain party this evening, and that I must bring with me a guest.” The Count slid a hand onto Taizuu’s knee. “I’d enjoy the pleasure of your company, Taizuu. If you’re free, of course?”
He angled his pointy chin up as he inquired, treating Woo Fei to a simmering glance from beneath a fan of lashes so luxuriant they should be illegal. Taizuu inhaled sharply, enchanted, and found himself nodding eagerly.
“Y-yes, of course. I’m free as bird, as it happens. I’ll be happy to accompany you.”
“Excellent,” the Count nodded, patting him gently. “Then we’ll meet at Shin-Ōsaka Station at eight this evening.”
“What!? All the way there? That’s more than seven hours by car! I’d have to take the Shinkasen to get there on time and it’s already four! Be reasonable, Count!”
“Oh? That is a problem for you? Ah, well…” The Count shrugged, regretfully. “No matter. I’m sure I can find someone else.”
“Wait! I didn’t say I wouldn’t go, did I? It’s just…it’s just rather, um, short notice, that’s all,” Woo Fei stumbled about verbally, desperate not to lose his chance to discover more about this man who was so…intriguing. A few hours of his company would be …invigorating. Yes, that was the word.
“The Shinkansen, then. That’s only, what, two, two-and-a-half hours, right? If I leave soon, I can make it, I’m sure.”
Daring, he reached out and patted the Count’s hand where it still rested on his knee, lingering just a moment too long. The Count smiled sweetly and squeezed the boney curve in response, sending tiny tendrils of heat whispering up Taizuu’s leg.
“It’s simple; I’ll just there, then. So, that’s settled. It’ll be fine. And now you don’t have to go to the trouble of finding someone else suitable this late in the day, Count. I’ll be more than happy-”
Flustered, well aware that he was starting to babble, and sporting an increasingly sensitive knee, Woo Fei shut his mouth with a snap, snatching his errant hand back and setting his cup-and-saucer down on the table with a clatter. He stood up in a hurry, gathering his long legs beneath him like a giraffe, already thinking about timetables and carry-on bags, arranging for his chauffer and letting the office know. It would be one hell of a scramble and he knew it. Oddly, it didn’t faze him one bit.
“Well, then, I should be going, shouldn’t I? To get there on time, that is.”
The Count rose as well, gracefully, settling his silks around him. The cool clear green did indeed enhance those remarkable eyes, Woo Fei noted.
“So kind of you, really, Taizuu. I’m glad I asked such a…dependable man.”
“Yes! Yes, dependable. They have called me that.” The businessman stood stark still for a split-second, gazing down at the cause of all his excitement, before turning abruptly toward the door.
He had his hand on the knob when he remembered to turn and say “Thank you.” The Count was just there, right beside him, smiling beatifically, as though Taizuu were a knight in shining armor.
“No, no, I must thank you, dear sir,” Count D purred. “I look forward to it.”
Neo Chinatown’s owner blushed again. He couldn’t help it.
In a flash, the Count went on tiptoe and pressed a light kiss against Woo Fei’s burning cheek.
“Something sweet to thank you….since you don’t eat cake, Taizuu. I’ll see this evening, hmm?”
“A-ah! Y-y-yes!” gabbled Woo Fei and practically fell through the open door, bolting across the hallway to the sanctuary of the emergency stairwell.
He took the stairs down from the 13th floor, grateful for a chance to hide his beet-red face. The rapid stumble down so many steps would explain his shortness of breath, he thought, and he could duck into his office before anyone saw him…and the telltale bulge in his thin wool dress pants.
It wasn’t till he was at his desk, arranging for his tickets and barking orders to his housekeeper over the speakerphone, when he remembered that the Count had never mentioned how he was going to get to Kyoto by eight.
Logically, the Count should be in just as much of a rush as Woo Fei was. But he hadn’t seemed the slightest bit hurried, which was downright strange.
But, for the first time ever, Woo Fei decided that it was acceptable that he didn’t know the answer to that. It would be acceptable not to probe D for answers later, too, because he really didn’t care how the Count was going to get there, as long as he got there.
It would be quite enough just to be his chosen companion for a period longer than a mere fifteen minutes-
that charming, mysterious, maddening man-whoever the hell he really was.