PSOH Tokyo, "Reproof"
Title: Reproof
Pairing: Taizuu & Count D (elder)
Rating: G
Apology: Although I am an agent of KAOS, I surely didn't mean to confuse everyone. (Who is that blonde man? Is that D or what? WTF, over & out)
Plus, Woo Fei has been moping around my harddrive, lower lip quivering, the wretch. It was either write this or shoot him - anythng to put him out of his misery.
Reproof
“Well, aren’t you a spineless, pathetic bastard! You should be ashamed of yourself, Taizuu, drinking yourself into oblivion at the drop of the proverbial hat. After all the effort my Grandfather spent attempting to mold you into some sort of reasonable facsimile of a thinking, feeling being!”
“Uhh?”
“You’re not even grateful, are you, you drunkard? Well, I wish you joy of it, Taizuu. You reap what you sow.”
“Wha-?”
Woo Fei sat up in alarm, an act that was almost unbearably painful. His head spun and he clutched it, belly protesting at the speed of trajectory.
“Well? Aren’t you going to get up and go apologize to my Grandfather? He expects it, you know.” The owner of Count D’s Pet Shop tapped his slippered foot impatiently.
Obviously this Count had no patience for slugabeds. Woo Fei clapped a shaking hand over his mouth and bolted, dragging the sheet behind him, not daring to stay and argue the point. He made it to the peace and quiet of his spacious marbled bathroom just in time, worshipping the porcelain god bare seconds after he fell painfully to his knees before it.
Between heaves, Woo Fei wondered at the state of his karma. He must have done something truly awful in a past life to have that odd-eyed harpy here at the crack of dawn, castigating him and demanding unwarranted apologies on the behalf of others.
He was the one who deserved the apology, without a doubt. His heart had been the one trampled, not D’s.
Huh. Not that that would ever happen. He was no more than a passing object to torment for the wicked Count, no more than a toy.
Though….it would’ve been…pleasant…if he had deigned to play with his victim a little longer, Woo Fei thought fleetingly, hacking up the last of the previous evening imbibings. He had been so…happy…when the Count had smiled at him, that liquid gold gaze all hot and inviting. There’d been nothing like that in his life before…and he missed it already.
When his grinding stomach settled a few unpleasant moments later, Taizuu examined with dismay what he’d just laid bare. How sappy! How girlish! How utterly weak! Perhaps he was spineless, just as his tenant had said, if he truly wanted more of that. He must be one of those masochist types, and he’d never even realized!
Was that dainty, mincing caricature of a man really capable of bringing him this low? Had he really turned into a lovestruck doormat, wishing nothing more than the pleasure of being used and abused again?
Ahem. Hadn’t he just made a vow never again allow such foolishness in his life? What was he thinking, wanting more?
But he did. Forehead resting against the cool white rim, he admitted that he did. Lots more, all the time, whenever the Count felt like doling it out.
Bad, with a craving akin to addiction, like those drugs the prostitutes took, the ones that sucked the souls right out of them.
That being understood, he’d better get himself together and go find the Count. He had things to say, probably stupidly jealous things, but if the Count expected him, he would go.
“Yoo-hoo, Taizuu,” the other Count D called, tapping on the bathroom door. “I’m leaving now. If you wish to see Grandfather before he, too, departs, then you must hurry. I will not delay him further.”
Taizuu hurriedly found his feet and stumbled to the doorway, wrenching the mahogany panel open as he wrestled with the sodden sheet.
Leaving?
“What!!” he roared at the hapless Count, who winced and drew back his hand.
“No need for such volume, Taizuu. I hear perfectly well.”
“What do you mean, he’s leaving!” Woo Fei shouted, a buzzing in his ears. “When? How soon? Where?”
“America, I believe. He lives there…and momentarily. You might wish to get dressed before you enter the lift. He would no doubt prefer that you not visit him naked.”
“America? But that’s so far..! Oh, god! Oh, god, oh god, where the hell’s my freaking clothes!” Taizuu tore mindlessly around the room, dragging his sheet behind him, till he spun haphazardly to a stop before the door to his dressing room and yanked it open.
“Give me a minute, damn it! I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet! Stall him!” he turned back, yelling in the Count’s general direction before disappearing behind the closed door.
The Count smiled, hearing the rattle of hangers across steel bars, the muffled curses and thumps as Taizuu got one leg into his pants and then another.
There was plenty of time yet, to be honest. Grandfather had slept in this morning, rising late and in an ill temper. He’d muttered about ‘idiot businessmen’ and ‘galloping asses’ over his tea, and had actually had the poor manners to inquire of his grandson where he had spent the previous night.
D had been miffed...until he realized Grandfather was likely grumpy because of Taizuu, which led to the immediate conclusion that Neo Chinatown’s owner had most likely done something stupid. He was, after all, a very obtuse man, sadly lacking in imagination. D had instantly decided to be helpful, in part because he was in such a very good mood himself, having experienced a more than affectionate reunion with his lover the night before, and secondly because he felt rather sorry for his Grandfather, who had seemed a little lonely these last few visits.
Grandfather deserved to have his fun, really. D owed it to him to make sure his chosen prey presented itself before he left for the States and took up his parental duties once more.
Thus the impromptu visit to Woo Fei’s first floor apartment, the one the boss kept ready for those evenings he needed to stay over and keep his eagle eye on the goings-on in Neo Chinatown.
And such a visit it had been! Amusing, to say the least. The Count had been treated to the impossibly rare sight of a severely hungover Taizuu, one who looked sad and rather alarmingly helpless, curled up tight around his pillow.
Count D was quite certain his Leon would never do that, not even if D hid from him for years. His dear detective would get up and go, actively seeking his chosen mate, not lay about feeling sorry for himself. But there was no accounting for tastes. Grandfather evidently enjoyed this brat’s foul moods and arrogant stiffness, his cold, serious mien and total lack of conventional understanding of the twin concepts of courtesy and good manners.
Megane, indeed.
Taizuu careened out of the dressing room less than minute later, still buttoning a white shirt. He fumbled with his shoes and turned to the door, obviously not waiting politely for the Count to lead the way.
“Let’s go, damnit! I’ve got to catch him!”
“But of course,” D agreed, stepping lightly before the edgy idiot who crowded toward the door. They exited the tastefully decorated suite, D pacing in his usual stately manner, Taizuu literally hopping up and down in his impatience to see his nemesis.
They entered the elevator, Woo Fei nearly punching out the plastic button for the 13th floor in his hurry. Somewhere around the 6th, D cleared his throat and asked a question.
“You do realize, do you not, that there were two?”
“Pardon?” Taizuu spun on his heel and stared at the Count, clearly not getting it.
“Two. Two Counts. Two red masquerade costumes, Taizuu.” D smiled superciliously. “You understand?”
Woo Fei’s jaw dislocated itself from its hinges. He gaped, pie-eyed. D could almost hear the gears spinning in his landlord’s head as he finally began to piece things together.
“Two? Two of you?” Taizuu hooted, reddened eyes round with astonishment.
Obviously, Woo Fei hadn’t thought of that. Blinded by appearances, as always.
“Yes. Two. You might wish to keep that in mind when you speak with Grandfather.”
Taizuu gurgled, rocking back on his heels in shock, not quite capable of corralling his feelings into mere words. Ecstatic? Humbled? Angry? Glad? His heart was in stasis suddenly, completely unsure. Only moments ago he’d resigned himself to the pain of rejection - to have the possibility of something else, something he’d believed completely out of his grasp - it strangled the words backing up in his throat, shattering his preconceived notion of how the coming interview would go.
No longer was the Count the betrayer, the false-faced flirt Taizuu had believed him to be. Not if what his grandson had just implied was the god’s honest truth. The Count hadn’t been dallying with some blonde playboy right under his erstwhile ‘date’s’ nose! It was Woo Fei who’d been in the wrong, drinking himself into a disgusting stupor over the wrongheaded assumption the Count had been playing him!
But….who knew how the Count would react when he saw the penitent Woo Fei before him? Who could tell if he would be dismissive or welcoming? Taizuu simply hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do next, and no means of anticipating an eventuality he hadn’t even seen coming.
Woo Fei’s speechless condition persisted, even as the black granite doors slid open at the 13th floor. D chuckled quietly and placed a soothing hand on Taizuu’s back.
“Do your best now, Taizuu. The door is open.”
A gentle shove and the larger man stumbled forward across the foyer, the brush of his shoulder shoving open the Pet Shop door. He stood framed in the doorway, his shirt buttons misaligned, dark hair rumpled every which way, loafers untied - altogether a completely different Taizuu than usual - and swallowed hard.
A soberly clad Count sat in his grandson’s chair, musing over a final cup of tea. A black bag stood at his feet, obviously his luggage. Woo Fei winced when he noticed it, and gathered his courage. He strode forward, no longer unsure of what he could say. There was only one way to handle a situation like this, when it came right down to it.
“Don’t go,” the boss of Neo Chinatown demanded, his voice hoarse. “Please.”
Pairing: Taizuu & Count D (elder)
Rating: G
Apology: Although I am an agent of KAOS, I surely didn't mean to confuse everyone. (Who is that blonde man? Is that D or what? WTF, over & out)
Plus, Woo Fei has been moping around my harddrive, lower lip quivering, the wretch. It was either write this or shoot him - anythng to put him out of his misery.
Reproof
“Well, aren’t you a spineless, pathetic bastard! You should be ashamed of yourself, Taizuu, drinking yourself into oblivion at the drop of the proverbial hat. After all the effort my Grandfather spent attempting to mold you into some sort of reasonable facsimile of a thinking, feeling being!”
“Uhh?”
“You’re not even grateful, are you, you drunkard? Well, I wish you joy of it, Taizuu. You reap what you sow.”
“Wha-?”
Woo Fei sat up in alarm, an act that was almost unbearably painful. His head spun and he clutched it, belly protesting at the speed of trajectory.
“Well? Aren’t you going to get up and go apologize to my Grandfather? He expects it, you know.” The owner of Count D’s Pet Shop tapped his slippered foot impatiently.
Obviously this Count had no patience for slugabeds. Woo Fei clapped a shaking hand over his mouth and bolted, dragging the sheet behind him, not daring to stay and argue the point. He made it to the peace and quiet of his spacious marbled bathroom just in time, worshipping the porcelain god bare seconds after he fell painfully to his knees before it.
Between heaves, Woo Fei wondered at the state of his karma. He must have done something truly awful in a past life to have that odd-eyed harpy here at the crack of dawn, castigating him and demanding unwarranted apologies on the behalf of others.
He was the one who deserved the apology, without a doubt. His heart had been the one trampled, not D’s.
Huh. Not that that would ever happen. He was no more than a passing object to torment for the wicked Count, no more than a toy.
Though….it would’ve been…pleasant…if he had deigned to play with his victim a little longer, Woo Fei thought fleetingly, hacking up the last of the previous evening imbibings. He had been so…happy…when the Count had smiled at him, that liquid gold gaze all hot and inviting. There’d been nothing like that in his life before…and he missed it already.
When his grinding stomach settled a few unpleasant moments later, Taizuu examined with dismay what he’d just laid bare. How sappy! How girlish! How utterly weak! Perhaps he was spineless, just as his tenant had said, if he truly wanted more of that. He must be one of those masochist types, and he’d never even realized!
Was that dainty, mincing caricature of a man really capable of bringing him this low? Had he really turned into a lovestruck doormat, wishing nothing more than the pleasure of being used and abused again?
Ahem. Hadn’t he just made a vow never again allow such foolishness in his life? What was he thinking, wanting more?
But he did. Forehead resting against the cool white rim, he admitted that he did. Lots more, all the time, whenever the Count felt like doling it out.
Bad, with a craving akin to addiction, like those drugs the prostitutes took, the ones that sucked the souls right out of them.
That being understood, he’d better get himself together and go find the Count. He had things to say, probably stupidly jealous things, but if the Count expected him, he would go.
“Yoo-hoo, Taizuu,” the other Count D called, tapping on the bathroom door. “I’m leaving now. If you wish to see Grandfather before he, too, departs, then you must hurry. I will not delay him further.”
Taizuu hurriedly found his feet and stumbled to the doorway, wrenching the mahogany panel open as he wrestled with the sodden sheet.
Leaving?
“What!!” he roared at the hapless Count, who winced and drew back his hand.
“No need for such volume, Taizuu. I hear perfectly well.”
“What do you mean, he’s leaving!” Woo Fei shouted, a buzzing in his ears. “When? How soon? Where?”
“America, I believe. He lives there…and momentarily. You might wish to get dressed before you enter the lift. He would no doubt prefer that you not visit him naked.”
“America? But that’s so far..! Oh, god! Oh, god, oh god, where the hell’s my freaking clothes!” Taizuu tore mindlessly around the room, dragging his sheet behind him, till he spun haphazardly to a stop before the door to his dressing room and yanked it open.
“Give me a minute, damn it! I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet! Stall him!” he turned back, yelling in the Count’s general direction before disappearing behind the closed door.
The Count smiled, hearing the rattle of hangers across steel bars, the muffled curses and thumps as Taizuu got one leg into his pants and then another.
There was plenty of time yet, to be honest. Grandfather had slept in this morning, rising late and in an ill temper. He’d muttered about ‘idiot businessmen’ and ‘galloping asses’ over his tea, and had actually had the poor manners to inquire of his grandson where he had spent the previous night.
D had been miffed...until he realized Grandfather was likely grumpy because of Taizuu, which led to the immediate conclusion that Neo Chinatown’s owner had most likely done something stupid. He was, after all, a very obtuse man, sadly lacking in imagination. D had instantly decided to be helpful, in part because he was in such a very good mood himself, having experienced a more than affectionate reunion with his lover the night before, and secondly because he felt rather sorry for his Grandfather, who had seemed a little lonely these last few visits.
Grandfather deserved to have his fun, really. D owed it to him to make sure his chosen prey presented itself before he left for the States and took up his parental duties once more.
Thus the impromptu visit to Woo Fei’s first floor apartment, the one the boss kept ready for those evenings he needed to stay over and keep his eagle eye on the goings-on in Neo Chinatown.
And such a visit it had been! Amusing, to say the least. The Count had been treated to the impossibly rare sight of a severely hungover Taizuu, one who looked sad and rather alarmingly helpless, curled up tight around his pillow.
Count D was quite certain his Leon would never do that, not even if D hid from him for years. His dear detective would get up and go, actively seeking his chosen mate, not lay about feeling sorry for himself. But there was no accounting for tastes. Grandfather evidently enjoyed this brat’s foul moods and arrogant stiffness, his cold, serious mien and total lack of conventional understanding of the twin concepts of courtesy and good manners.
Megane, indeed.
Taizuu careened out of the dressing room less than minute later, still buttoning a white shirt. He fumbled with his shoes and turned to the door, obviously not waiting politely for the Count to lead the way.
“Let’s go, damnit! I’ve got to catch him!”
“But of course,” D agreed, stepping lightly before the edgy idiot who crowded toward the door. They exited the tastefully decorated suite, D pacing in his usual stately manner, Taizuu literally hopping up and down in his impatience to see his nemesis.
They entered the elevator, Woo Fei nearly punching out the plastic button for the 13th floor in his hurry. Somewhere around the 6th, D cleared his throat and asked a question.
“You do realize, do you not, that there were two?”
“Pardon?” Taizuu spun on his heel and stared at the Count, clearly not getting it.
“Two. Two Counts. Two red masquerade costumes, Taizuu.” D smiled superciliously. “You understand?”
Woo Fei’s jaw dislocated itself from its hinges. He gaped, pie-eyed. D could almost hear the gears spinning in his landlord’s head as he finally began to piece things together.
“Two? Two of you?” Taizuu hooted, reddened eyes round with astonishment.
Obviously, Woo Fei hadn’t thought of that. Blinded by appearances, as always.
“Yes. Two. You might wish to keep that in mind when you speak with Grandfather.”
Taizuu gurgled, rocking back on his heels in shock, not quite capable of corralling his feelings into mere words. Ecstatic? Humbled? Angry? Glad? His heart was in stasis suddenly, completely unsure. Only moments ago he’d resigned himself to the pain of rejection - to have the possibility of something else, something he’d believed completely out of his grasp - it strangled the words backing up in his throat, shattering his preconceived notion of how the coming interview would go.
No longer was the Count the betrayer, the false-faced flirt Taizuu had believed him to be. Not if what his grandson had just implied was the god’s honest truth. The Count hadn’t been dallying with some blonde playboy right under his erstwhile ‘date’s’ nose! It was Woo Fei who’d been in the wrong, drinking himself into a disgusting stupor over the wrongheaded assumption the Count had been playing him!
But….who knew how the Count would react when he saw the penitent Woo Fei before him? Who could tell if he would be dismissive or welcoming? Taizuu simply hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do next, and no means of anticipating an eventuality he hadn’t even seen coming.
Woo Fei’s speechless condition persisted, even as the black granite doors slid open at the 13th floor. D chuckled quietly and placed a soothing hand on Taizuu’s back.
“Do your best now, Taizuu. The door is open.”
A gentle shove and the larger man stumbled forward across the foyer, the brush of his shoulder shoving open the Pet Shop door. He stood framed in the doorway, his shirt buttons misaligned, dark hair rumpled every which way, loafers untied - altogether a completely different Taizuu than usual - and swallowed hard.
A soberly clad Count sat in his grandson’s chair, musing over a final cup of tea. A black bag stood at his feet, obviously his luggage. Woo Fei winced when he noticed it, and gathered his courage. He strode forward, no longer unsure of what he could say. There was only one way to handle a situation like this, when it came right down to it.
“Don’t go,” the boss of Neo Chinatown demanded, his voice hoarse. “Please.”