1. the meeting #2
"Yeah. Only every third day. Most days the young men who cry in my arms are not that pretty, unfortunately," Mr. Asano quips, and Aaron can’t help but laugh.
It’s a stupid joke, but he’s been tired and upset all day, so it makes him laugh. He cannot remember how long it has been since someone, a hot guy no less, paid him this much attention and made him laugh.
"Well, if you must know, my life is currently a mess, which is obvious since I was crying in a bathroom. I wanted to see my brother to ask him for money. Ha." Aaron shakes his head. "I haven’t seen him in over five years, and I’m here to beg him to give me money, not lend it to me because I can’t pay him back.
He’ll probably think I’m mental for it. I must be crazy to even have come here, right?
! It’s incredibly shameless of me. Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Asano, but the only good things about me are my looks. Inside, I'm a filthy mess."
He grasps his coffee cup in his hands and continues looking down.
"Not necessarily. If you don’t ask for help, you won’t be able to function in life," Mr. Asano says with a shrug. "If you’re family, how come your brother doesn’t know you’re struggling?"
How much should Aaron tell this person? He’s never really spoken to anyone about his problems except for his best friend James, so perhaps it will make him feel better to talk about this with someone.
"He and I were never really that close, you know. He’s older than me, and our dad married my mum a couple of years before he went to boarding school, so I didn’t see him a whole lot," Aaron explains. Xander sometimes spent the holidays with his late mother’s family, so they didn’t get to bond much.
"After our dad died, he just left, you know? I haven’t seen him since he graduated from university years ago.
I don’t even have his number. Now you can see how shameless it is for me to ask him for help. "
Mr. Asano takes a sip from his tea thoughtfully. "I see. Why do you need money so desperately, anyway?"
"Well, let’s see. I haven’t eaten all day.
I’m probably not thinking straight, which is why I’m even telling you all this shit," Aaron starts. He doesn’t know how much of his crappy life Mr. Asano will be interested in, but the man does not stop him, so he continues.
"My mum is currently suffering in a public hospital because I can’t afford to take her to a private hospital to get the operation she needs, and the bank is on my arse over mortgage payments that I've fallen behind on. If they repossess the coffee shop and the flat, I’m done. "
Aaron bites down hard on his doughnut and drinks some coffee. It tastes so much better than anything he’s ever made. No wonder the shop isn’t making any money. He wonders how much this coffee costs here and wishes that this stranger is buying at his coffee shop instead.
"Hmm. So that’s why you need the money. Why do you trouble yourself so much?
A pretty boy like you can easily seduce a rich man or woman and get them to spend as much money as you like on you," Mr. Asano says, his words surprising Aaron enough for him to look up.
"What? Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I know a lot of people in my line of work who would give any amount of money, to be with a guy who looks like you. "
Aaron feels his heart sink inside of him.
He’d like to take offence and scream that he would never whore himself out for money, but he’s honestly not sure if he’d be able to do that if he got desperate enough.
Figures. The first hot guy who’s shown him any attention in months is a sadistic, rich weirdo who thinks anything can be bought with money. He has terrible luck in men.
"Do I really look like the kind of person who’d let some weird lonely old man fuck me for money?" Aaron asks, his fists clenched.
Mr. Asano raises his eyebrows at Aaron’s indignation. "If you still have your pride, then poverty hasn’t beaten you down yet," he says. "Besides, I am a bit older and a bit lonely, but I’m not that weird."
Aaron nearly chokes on his coffee. "I didn’t mean you; I was just saying generally," he says hastily. "You’re not weird. You’re hot… I mean. Crap. Wait, you... when you said you knew someone who’d pay... were you talking about yourself too?"
Mr. Asano sits back on his chair and folds his arms, an amused look on his face, even as he doesn’t respond, but continues to watch Aaron. His cell phone rings, and he takes one look at the caller ID, then declines the call, returning to his favourite pastime of watching Aaron.
Aaron decides that this is too strange. "I have to go. I've got work later, and it’s going to take me half an hour to walk home, so I need to leave now." He pushes back his chair. "Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Asano."
"What kind of job is this that you’re in such a hurry to get to?"
"The coffee shop. My friend holds down the fort when I’m not there, but I have to relieve him so he can go study. People have got to earn their €12 per hour," Aaron tells him. "Again, thank you for listening to me, Mr. Asano."
"Wait," Mr. Asano says, opening his wallet. He then puts down a €100 note on the table in front of Aaron. "I still want to hear more about you, Aaron. Can I buy an hour of your time?"
Stunned, Aaron stares at the note in front of him in confusion.
Did this man just offer him money in exchange for listening to his problems?
Is this how rich people pass the time? That much money for just an hour of talking?
What is the catch? Is he a pervert? Did he drug his coffee?
Well, that does not matter because Aaron needs that money.
Forget his pride. He’ll just talk to this guy for an hour, then go home 100 euros richer.
"Are you fucking with me? Is this some kind of test? Because I’ll tell you right now, Mr. Asano, I’m not going to refuse your money," Aaron says, unsure of what this means.
"I’m not playing. You need money, and I want to spend more time with you. This is a win-win situation," Mr. Asano says with a shrug.
Aaron sits back down and pockets the money. "Can I order whatever else I want?" he asks.
"Go crazy," Mr. Asano says.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Aaron orders a large chicken wrap, chips, and an iced tea. Mr. Asano only asks for his tea to be refilled.
"So, what do you wanna know?" Aaron asks him while the food is being prepared.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-three. What about you?" he asks.
"No. I’m asking the questions," Mr. Asano says, his hands now on the table. "Are you seeing anyone?"
Aaron snorts. "If I were, do you think I’d be crying in some stranger’s arms in a bathroom?"
Mr. Asano seems satisfied with that answer, but the food arrives before he can respond.
Aaron immediately digs in. This will be both his breakfast and lunch for today.
Since his companion doesn’t ask him anything, Aaron continues eating until he’s done.
When he looks up, he finds that Mr. Asano’s eyes have not left him, and his expression remains unchanged as he drinks his tea.
"You know, if you don’t ask me anything, you’ll have wasted your money," Aaron tells him. It’s already been over half an hour.
"Don’t worry about it." Mr. Asano smiles. "I’m getting great value for my money just watching you."
Heat creeps up Aaron’s neck and onto his face. His blushing seems to amuse Mr. Asano. "So, what do you do all day? You mentioned a coffee shop. Do you work there?" he asks.
He wants to know the most mundane things, but Aaron will entertain him for now; after all, he’s paying.
"Yeah. It’s Laura’s on Kruger Street. It’s not a busy area, so me and my mum...
well, just me these days... I wake up early to bake the pastries and muffins, and then our barista comes in and he handles everything on the coffee side.
We’re only busy in the morning, so I only bake once a day.
Then it’s just serving the customers. My friend James helps after class, so it’s manageable with just the three of us. "
"You bake?" Mr. Asano asks with renewed interest.
"Well," Aaron scratches his head nervously. "I’m not as good as my mum, but yeah, I can bake."
"I don’t believe you," Mr. Asano says, hands reaching out to Aaron across the table. He places one hand over Aaron’s own on top of the table. "You bake with these soft, delicate hands?"
The unexpected touch catches Aaron by surprise. Mr. Asano’s hand is firm, but it isn’t rough, and it's warm from the cup that he’s been holding.
Aaron raises his eyebrows, wondering how far he can push this man. "You paid me to talk; you never said anything about touching me."
Mr. Asano does not miss a beat. He keeps his one hand on top of Aaron’s, and with his other hand, he slaps two more €100s on the table. Aaron looks up at him in shock. Does money grow on trees for this guy?
"I was…" kidding, Aaron wants to say, but he holds his breath when Mr. Asano’s hand shifts, eyes still locked with Aaron’s own, and he slowly intertwines their fingers together.
Aaron feels his heart race; he can’t pull away.
He can’t say no because Mr. Asano paid for this.
He doesn’t want to say no, but the fact that he can’t, sends a foreign sort of thrill running through his veins.
"Yes?" Mr. Asano says, voice low, as if there’s nothing odd about this scenario.
"What…" Aaron clears his throat when his voice comes out hoarse. "What do you want from me?"
"Oh Aaron, I think it’s pretty obvious what I want from you," Mr. Asano whispers, pulling Aaron’s hand closer to him and bringing it up to his lips.
Mr. Asano’s lips are soft against the back of Aaron’s hand, and the contact ignites the veins in Aaron’s knuckles, sending a jolt into his heart, which responds, beating faster at this man’s touch.
"Sir," Aaron mutters breathlessly.