2. the beginning #2
Fuck. He’s good. Aaron is saved from any embarrassment when the waiter brings their drinks and the menu.
After they are done ordering, Aaron takes a sip of his cocktail, wondering how to bring up the topic of money. He wishes this were a normal date, and he didn’t have to worry about things like that, but alas, that is not the case.
"I’ve been thinking about you, Aaron. I’m really glad that you decided to come meet me," Mr. Asano says, taking his wine glass.
"Um, thank you for inviting me here," Aaron decides to say. "This is a nice place, but I honestly almost didn’t come."
"What made you decide otherwise?"
Aaron clenches his fist; it’s time to be honest. "I got accepted into university with my friend James four years ago. I completed my first year, but after that I didn’t have the funds to pay for the following year's registration. I deferred my enrolment every year. But if I don’t register this year, then I’ll lose my place.
" He can’t bear to look up at Mr. Asano.
Yes, he’s being shameless, but he’s going to own it. "I figured, you... if I came... maybe pay me for my time or..."
Mr. Asano puts down his glass. "What are you studying?"
"Criminal Justice." It’s strange how he doesn’t ask or say anything about the money.
Mr. Asano arches a brow. "You want to be a cop?"
"I want to be an Intelligence Analyst, which is also law enforcement but not on the front lines. I was taking Psychology classes as well," he explains, and when his date regards him with mild disbelief, Aaron huffs. "What? You think I’m too pretty to study criminal minds?"
"Not at all. I like your passion. Why this profession in particular?"
"Well, after what happened with my father, I’m more determined, but how it started is a funny story, actually," Aaron smiles.
"When we were kids, me, James, and our other friend had this dream of working together. I would be an Intelligence Analyst; find the evidence; Riko would hunt down the criminal as a detective and arrest him, and James as the prosecutor, would put them away. James’s already in his third year of law school, so the dream is still alive, I guess. "
The three of them were best friends, inseparable as children. t's been years since he saw Riko. She disappeared after her mother passed away, and he hopes she's okay wherever she is.
He'd almost given up on his dream a few years ago, when his father's mistakes put him in the hands of The Crimson Owl biker gang.
The things they'd made him do to pay back his father's debt still made his stomach churn, but he would do it all over again to protect his mother.
Besides, he'd met and fallen in love with Dakarai and even though they weren't right for each other, Aaron doesn't regret their time together.
"You were an ambitious kid, huh? Tell me this, then, why now? Even if they revoke your application now, you can always reapply when you’re ready," Mr. Asano points out to him.
Aaron knows this, so he swallows, looks down, and again takes a sip of his cocktail. "I don’t have time. I need to reassure my mum that I have a bright future so that she can go in peace. I don’t want her on her deathbed worrying about me."
He says all of this with his teeth gritted, a scowl on his face to hide how much saying those words hurts him.
Mr. Asano does not get a chance to respond as their food is served right at that moment. Aaron thanks the waiter and uses the food as an excuse not to look at his date.
"Tell me about her," Mr. Asano says, and Aaron looks up at him.
"Why? Why are you so curious about me?" He asks, honestly. "Do we have to pretend like you care about my life? Can’t we just accept this for what it is? You’re just my sugar daddy, nothing more."
It is really simple. Aaron is afraid that if this man keeps asking about his life and looking at him like that, he might mistake his curiosity for concern and care, and Aaron might end up falling even more for him.
"Aaron, it’s my time. I’m paying for it, aren’t I? How we spend that time together is entirely up to me, and I want to know about you." His voice is sharper than it has ever been with Aaron. "Are you going to deny me the information I’m purchasing with my own money?"
This shatters any inkling of hope that Aaron might have had that perhaps Mr. Asano wants more than just a give-and-take relationship. "Fine," Aaron says, stabbing his pasta with a fork. "It’s your time."
So he tells him about his mother. How she got sick, and her aplastic anaemia gradually got worse; she could not work anymore, and everything lay on Aaron to take care of her, the coffee shop, and the flat.
How he’d taken everything in stride, poured all the money he had saved for university on her health, and how it still isn’t enough.
Even though he’s a match and he wants to be a stem cell donor for her, the public hospitals don’t have the resources to perform that kind of surgery; there is only one in the country that can, and it has a long queue.
So, a private hospital is her only hope.
He tells Mr. Asano how much he wants his mother to be at peace and will do anything for it.
He doesn’t mention how much he resents his father for leaving them in this position.
For not doing his duty as a father and taking care of Aaron and Laura.
For leaving him with the burden of looking after the family and how those responsibilities choke him, even though he pretends to be good at handling everything.
He doesn’t say how much b is all is weighing him down.
No, Aaron just tells him about all the good times with his mother and how much he loves her and wants the best for her. Mr. Asano listens; he hangs on Aaron’s every word as they eat, listening to him and watching him. It has been forever since anyone has given him this much attention.
By the time they finish eating, Aaron is feeling a little less on edge and admittedly a bit buzzed. Mr. Asano orders another bottle of wine when they are done.
"So now you know. I’ve got a shitload of problems and I need your help," Aaron says, wine on his lips. "We can both get what we want. I get to wear fancy clothes, eat in places like this, and go to school, and you get what you want. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship."
Mr. Asano tilts his head to the side slightly, amusement on his parted lips. "And what, pray tell, do I want?" he asks.
Oh, that’s how he’s playing this, is it? Well, Aaron is no stranger to going after what he wants, which is why he stands up and casually slides into Mr. Asano’s side of the booth.
Aaron places his elbows on the table and his chin in his hand, and he leans towards Mr. Asano. The man doesn’t move away. "What you want, Mr. Asano," Aaron says, biting his lip and holding those grey eyes, "is me."
Mr. Asano gulps as his eyes slide down to Aaron’s lips, then further down, to the collarbone that Aaron had left exposed by unbuttoning his shirt’s top button. Mr. Asano does not take his eyes off him, instead bringing his glass to his lips again.
"Mr. As-… should I call you that, or is there something specific you want me to call you?" Aaron asks, leaning in again, closer to him.
Mr. Asano does not move, whether to push Aaron away or to bring him closer; instead, he only holds his gaze. "What would you like to call me?"
Again, he is leaving it entirely up to Aaron. He'd expected him to be more of a domineering person, but he seems rather calm, albeit intrigued.
"Hmm... should I just call you Rion?" He asks, but Rion takes this opportunity to take a sip from his drink, preventing Aaron from seeing his reaction. This makes him want to tease the man a bit, given the nature of their relationship, so he grins and says, "Maybe I should just call you Daddy."
Rion nearly chokes on his drink.
But while he coughs, Aaron can’t help but notice how pink his ears have got and how for the first time tonight, he is not meeting Aaron’s eyes.
So, he enjoys being called daddy, does he? Aaron will save that information for when he needs it. "It’s settled then. I’ll call you Rion."
Rion’s finished his glass of wine, so Aaron reaches over purposefully to his side, grabbing the wine bottle and making sure their arms brush against each other.
"Let me pour you another glass," he says quietly.
Not waiting for permission, Aaron begins to pour the red liquid into the clear glass.
Rion’s hands are on the base, but as Aaron pours the wine, Rion’s fingers slide up the stem, slowly up the glass.
If he keeps those fingers moving up, they will meet Aaron’s own before he finishes pouring the wine.
He can feel a heat in his stomach as his heart leaps in anticipation, slowing down the speed at which he pours, watching the glass fill with red as Rion’s fingers slide up.
Rion’s not looking at the glass, but Aaron can feel him watching him, eyes on his face.
The moment he spends pouring that wine can’t possibly be more than ten seconds, yet the intensity of the anticipation he feels at something as simple as Rion’s cold fingers touching his own makes it feel as though hours pass.
Aaron pulls back before the glass overflows and tries to breathe.
"Pity," Rion says quietly, bringing the glass up to his lips, and Aaron can’t help but follow the movement. Red, a stark contrast to Rion’s olive skin, even as he puts the glass down, and licks his lips.
Rion watches him again. It sends shivers down his spine, but the man is only looking, not touching, and Aaron cannot take the teasing anymore.
"Why are you hesitating? It’s your time, do with me whatever you want," he whispers, placing his hand on Rion’s thigh under the table.
Rion puts his hand over Aaron’s own on his thigh. "Is this what you want to do?"
"It doesn’t matter what I want. This is your time; you’re paying for it."