Innocent Deception
Title: Innocent Deception (2/?)
Pairing: TegoMasu (YamaPi & Koyama as support)
Genre: Romance
Rating: for now, PG 13
Disclaimer: purely fiction
Summary: Massu is a wealthy businessman who had just acquired a restaurant about to be closed down. Yuya is an heir to his daddy’s fortune. . . . . .It only took one chance, one meeting, where Yuya caught Massu’s interest with his impetuousness, not to mention his sexiness. Massu made Yuya want to break the rules, to flirt with the danger in his eyes - Yuya wondered if challenging the handsome restaurant owner would get him kissed or kicked out. Sparks started flying from the first time that they met, but bitter past experiences had taught them both that people might want more than their love.
Yuya’s family’s wealth had cushioned his life, and his friends had protected him from faithless lovers. . . . . . The more Massu learned about Yuya, the more he wanted to know, but his mysterious Yuya kept too many secrets. . . . . . Could Yuya trust him?
A/N 1 - credits to shingung for beta (thanks much)
A/N 2 - this is dedicated to my friends and LJ family. I hope you like this guys, you are the reasons behind these stories/fics.
Previous: Chapter 1
Chapter 2
It took Yuya at least fifteen seconds to take off his filthy jeans. He studied his reflection in the mirror once more, making sure that the jacket looked decent enough, never mind if a part of his legs are exposed. He was just there to eat anyway, and the table should serve as a cover. Satisfied with his appearance, he returned to the foyer, and found it nearly empty. Only Masuda remained. Without stopping to think, he walked over to him and handed his discarded jeans with a smile.
“I doubt if we can burn it. It’s too muddy.” Masuda said, gingerly accepting the bundle with his fingertips.
”Perhaps you could try the dishwasher instead” Yuya countered sweetly and added with a sigh. “I doubt it’ll ever come clean. Pity, it’s my favorite.”
Shifting his hold on the bundle in his hands so he could catch an escaping leg before it reached the carpet; he noticed a smudge of dried paint. He quirked an eyebrow and asked “You paint in your favorite pants?”
“Jeans, it’s called jeans.” Yuya corrected him absently, remembering his hunger as his stomach made noises again.
Masuda smiled and replied, “Same difference. They both have two legs.”
Yuya’s eyes sparkled with amusement at his quick response. “I bet you think that the only difference between white and red wine is the price.”
“There’s more?” Masuda grinned at the startled disbelief in Yuya’s eyes and smiled, nodding at the dining room. “YamaPi and Koyama are already seated. Why don’t you wonder in and find them? I’ll…. err…. find something to do with these pants, or jeans.”
“YamaPi and Koyama? I was only gone for a good minute or two and you’re already on first names?” he asked.
Masuda grinned at his surprise. “It’s called bonding. Go eat before the cook shuts off the stove, Yuya.”
Yuya was halfway across the dining room before it dawned on him. Yuya, he said. Masuda had called him by his first name. He smiled; liking the feeling it gave him, and then hurried over to their table. He was much too hungry to do a mental backtrack on when Masuda learned his name.
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“The food stinks.” Koyama pushed his plate aside in disgust and reached for his wine glass.
Yuya bent his head and sniffed delicately, then with more enthusiasm. No odor assaulted his nose, and he was unable to see why Koyama had made such a comment. He shrugged and said, “Mine doesn’t stink. Perhaps you got a bad piece of meat?”
Koyama rolled is eyes. “I didn’t mean it stinks literally, silly. I meant it’s badly prepared. Not to mention it’s served without any sense of color or texture. Just look at that. What person in his right mind would eat something like that?”
“Since when do you know so much about food?” Yuya said, absently chewing another bite.
“I know a lot more than the chef.” Koyama replied.
“Enjoying your meal?”
Even the normally unruffled YamaPi jumped on his seat at Masuda’s sudden appearance. Sharing a guilty look, the three of them silently voted. Yuya sighed. He knows that the talking will be left to him again.
“Koyama says the food isn’t up to standard one would expect in such charming surroundings,” he said glibly. “I personally think your chef is uninspired and probably a bit weary. It is rather late,” he added, hoping the offered excuse would lessen the blow.
It would have been alright if Masuda had not looked at Koyama, his expression demanding confirmation. Koyama obliged, leaving Masuda in no doubt as to his true judgment. “I said the food stinks. I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.”
Masuda didn’t bother feigning surprise at Koyama’s words. Likes the holes in the parking lot, the food was another subject for reform. He hadn’t gotten around to it yet though, having taken over the restaurant for just three days. Also, he was unsure on how to face the problem. Replacing the chef was one solution, closing down the restaurant was another, but he had put off the decision, because in the three days that he had taken over the place, he had been too busy studying the books to give the kitchen staff much attention.
Besides, he thought, it couldn’t’ be possibly as bad as Koyama had claimed. The few meals he had eaten there had been tolerable, if not exciting.
Yuya watched with interest as Masuda leveled measuring stares at the three of them. Then he did the unexpected. He pulled out a fourth chair, sitting between him and Koyama - and joined them, sliding Koyama’s plate across the table until it was in front of him. Unknowingly, he imitated Yuya’s earlier action and bent down his head and cautiously sniffed the food.
“He says he didn’t mean it that way,” Yuya explained. “Koyama was commenting on the food preparation, not an actual stench.”
“I suppose I should be grateful for small favors.” Masuda muttered, then sighed in resignation as he picked up a clean fork and stabbed at a piece of meat.
All eyes were on him as he swallowed, awaiting verdict. Masuda reached for a glass of water and drank deeply before he pronounced judgment. “It’s really bad.”
“Told you!” Koyama said smugly, dabbing the corners of his mouth with the linen napkin. “Try some salad. It’s amazing what they can do to a few simple vegetables.” He suggested.
Masuda didn’t bother. One lesson was more than adequate. “I didn’t realize the food was that bad,” he admitted, pushing the plate aside and reached for Yuya’s wineglass.
His eyebrows quirked at Yuya as though asking for permission ~ Yuya didn’t really think Masuda would stop even if he said no, so he just smiled and watched as Masuda turned the glass until his lips touched the smudge his lip gloss had left on the rim. It was harder to keep up the smile then, what with Masuda’s eyes telling him that he’d done that on purpose, and leaving him to wonder why the gesture felt so intimate.
“At least the wine was okay,” he said, returning the glass in front of Yuya, before raising his hand to signal a waiter. When no reassurance was coming from the trio, he leveled a horrified stare at them.
“Marginally palatable expresses it better.” YamaPi said. “I wouldn’t throw it out if there’s nothing else to drink.”
“We don’t usually run around critiquing restaurants,” Yuya said, drawing Masuda’s attention back to him and continued “but you seemed open to comments?” He finished it as a question, mainly because he hoped it would prompt Masuda to talk more. The sound of his voice was quickly becoming something that he liked a lot.
Masuda studied him for a long moment, as though debating whether he was sincere in his sideways apology or not. In truth, he used the time to examine again the classic features of Yuya’s face. There was nothing delicate about the high, almost exotic cheekbones, yet the pale tone of his skin lent an air of fragility to the otherwise strong face. A full sensual mouth, thick eyebrows over fascinating and expressive eyes, while his errant curls framing his face catches the muted lights in the room, and reflecting them in a glorious display of colors.
The waiter arrived, interrupting Masuda’s pleasurable scrutiny of Yuya, and he got down to business. After checking with the others, he ordered simple omelets all round and another bottle of the marginally palatable wine, as YamaPi had described. Plates of half-finished steaks were removed from the table, but not before Yuya had managed to sneak a last bite. Well, he was hungry.
“I thought you were too busy to join us,” he teased Masuda, fighting to keep the pleasure out of his voice. He put together an expression that was both innocent and curious and tried it on him.
“This is business,” Masuda said, raising an eyebrow at Yuya’s expression. He seemed to be fighting a grin and he tried to provoke it. “Sharing a meal with a table of critics is educational. I’m learning more here than I have since I first walked in here.”
“When was that?” YamaPi asked.
“Three days ago, but what I can’t understand is that the several times I’ve eaten here, the food wasn’t spectacular but it was certainly edible.
“It’s an old chef’s trick.” Koyama said. “Make sure the boss gets the best so he won’t complain. Then reduce the standards for the customers so you come in under budget. By the time the boss figures it out, it’s too late. It works particularly well especially if the guy doesn’t know anything about restaurant business.”
“That explains the discrepancies I found in the books.” He fixed Koyama a calculating stare, “What interests me though, is how you know so much about it.”
Koyama shrugged. “I don’t know so much. I just worked at a restaurant before and you learn a lot by listening to people.”
Masuda wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but it appeared to be the only one, so he backed off. The new bottle of wine arrived and he indicated that YamaPi do the honors of tasting it. “I’ve never had much of a taste for wine”
“Obviously,” YamaPi said as he sipped from his glass and as he nodded, the waiter filled the other glasses.
“You don’t seem to know much for a man who owns a restaurant.” Yuya said, a challenging grin taking the edge off his words. He imagined he should temper his remarks, but there is something about Masuda that made him feel daring. Even so, he suspected he had gone too far when Masuda shifted his attention to him. His eyes were glinting, their gray depths reflecting a strange fire that obliterated all other thoughts from Yuya’s mind. Instead, he found himself wondering how it would feel to have Masuda’s hands caress the bare skin of his legs. They would be hot, he thought. Hot, hard and demanding.
Unconsciously rubbing his legs together, he fought the image. It was too suggestive, too erotic. He ran his tongue along his suddenly dry lips, and watched Masuda’s eyes follow the movement of his lips, enjoying the almost physical weight of his gaze.
Turning in his seat and casually shielding his face from YamaPi and Koyama by holding his wineglass near his cheek, Masuda responded. Just for a second, just long enough to warn Yuya that he can read his thoughts. . . . . . . . . and that someday he would make them real. With a gaze every bit as hot and wanting as Yuya’s fantasy, Masuda made him believe it would happen. But he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he were to ignore Masuda’s warning.
“I agree with Yuya,” YamaPi told Masuda, unwittingly interrupting their sensual byplay. “Problems like these would have been obvious if you had any experience in restaurant management.”
“It’s my first. This restaurant came out of the blue and now I’m stuck with a property which I’m not sure whether I should keep or not.” Masuda explained, turning his gaze away from Yuya.
“You have other businesses?” YamaPi asked
“A few,” Masuda replied and left it at that, piquing Yuya’s curiosity with his brief response. He had the impression he’d dabbled in other businesses and wanted to ask him more. The thought of drawing his attention left him breathless though, his body remembering their earlier exchange. But the challenge was there. He started to say something but the waiter arrived with their omelets. It can wait, he thought, as he watched the three men dug into their food.
Aware of what the combination of steak and eggs would do to his overall cholesterol level, he only picked at his food, more involved with his thoughts than with the meal.
“Now what’s wrong?” Masuda asked in exasperation, as he noticed Yuya picking on the food in front of him. Between the holes in the parking lot, lousy food and equally lousy wine, he was beginning to fry around the edges. The last thing he needed was another complain.
“I’m full,” Yuya said simply, a little surprised at the frustration in Masuda’s vice. “I managed to eat most of my steak before you sent it back.”
Masuda couldn’t stifle his sigh of relief. “I guess that’s okay then,” he said, but wondered how Yuya had managed to eat what he considered inedible. His gaze shifted to his body, and sensing that there’s a creamy skin under the jacket, his mind railroaded to another track. If they were alone, would Yuya mind if he touched him there, in that shadowed hollow at the base of his throat? Would his fingers find a pulse beating erratically? Or would his lips set off the staccato rhythm?
Yuya felt the heat of Masuda’s gaze but he decided to ignore it. Giving in to it would have been devastating. Masuda Takahisa was a man like no other. The chemistry between them is a powerful force. He had never been cautious before. He had always done what he wanted. But at the moment he feels that he has to play it safe with Masuda, a complete stranger.
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Masuda wondered what attracted him to Yuya. He was well on his way out when he heard him arguing earlier with the headwaiter.
The stranger’s back was at him then, but what caught his attention was how he didn’t seem to be perturbed. He had been in fact haughty, acting as if he owned the place, with his two companions standing idly by, leaving everything to him. Looking at the pained expression on his staff’s face, Masuda took pity on him and decided to take matters in his own hand. “Jumping to conclusions, aren’t you?” he drawled, noticing how the stranger’s back stiffened at his voice, and his two companions turned to face him. He waited until the haughty guy turned to look at him, and when he did, Masuda’s heart skipped a beat. He was dumbfounded. Is it possible for a man to look so beautiful, he thought, because there’s no other word to describe this stranger. All the words he had intended to say were lost. He stared at him for what seemed like a long moment, running his eyes on him, then something caught his eye, and he almost laughed at the cause of the argument. Clearly oblivious to the fact that it was his clothes that the waiter was referring to, the stranger asked, “Who are you?” and looked him in the eye. Masuda didn’t answer right away, taking his time, as he closed the distance between them. He met that gaze for a few seconds, and explained the situation, chuckling with amusement as the younger man’s eyes widened in surprise.
His breath caught in his throat as he remembered Yuya’s actions later. Suddenly the room felt hot, and he tugged at his tie. Would he have really stripped in front of him? What would Yuya have done if he had called the bluff? And he wanted to, badly. He chuckled at the impossibility of it all. He had been attracted to the younger man at first glance. Something that had never happened to him before ~ his ex wife Kana can attest to that. And the jealousy he had felt at his obvious closeness to YamaPi. Why? Suddenly he didn’t want the night to be over.
He didn’t even know his last name, Masuda mused. He knew there was less importance in a name than most people believed, but with a name, he could at least begin to develop some basic facts about Yuya. With a name he could find an address. With an address, he could find him again.
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IDK what to say here, except I hope that you like it *grins*
I have a question though, YamaPi, at a later chapter, will have a love interest here. Who would you like that to be? I’ll leave the choice to you as I’m having a hard time deciding. (Don’t look at Yuya’s or Massu's direction because it’s a NO/NO ~ that will definitely derail the story XD)