Tamaki positioned himself at his usual spot on the street corner, fingers strumming his guitar absentmindedly. It was a Tuesday, an addition to his usual weekend routine, fueled by the hope of encountering the man who had taken root in his thoughts.
Hiro. He had looked him up when he got home. Mastumori Hiro, restaurant tycoon and mogul. He owned six different restaurants in Tokyo city alone. He probably wasn’t filthy rich, but he was doing better than even Tamaki’s family was. Maybe the class above his, maybe two. What he could find on the internet was he seemed to have many more assets posted online than stories about anything crazy or luxurious he had bought. He wasn’t a rich playboy who was plastered all over the news, spending money left and right on useless things, and he wasn’t some CEO’s inheritor or son. He seemed to be someone who had invested wisely in a few small ways. Most of what he could find were people talking about his handsomeness online, a few videos of him even going viral at his restaurants as he worked.
One of which was the very place he had seen him across from his weekend spot last week. And since he knew where he was going to be, and it was his weekend spot he had picked up coming on Tuesdays to try to catch him during the week on a business day.
He had even paid the person who normally busked on Tuesdays a little money to have him take up a different spot, he couldn’t lose his vantage point of the building’s front window.
So far, in the past two weeks, he had seen Mastumori Hiro going into the restaurant three times. And all three times, he had watched him silently while playing and staying later and later each time so that he could see him come and go. It was nothing for Hiro, but for him, it was everything. His heart felt dead until he saw him, and then when he came into view, it was like time froze and his world filled with warmth. His whole body felt hot and overwhelmed. It was fall, and he felt like summer underneath his jacket.
Tamaki’s mind wandered to Hiro’s beautiful features as his melodies drifted into the air. It was always doing that nowadays, awake, asleep; it didn’t matter, Hiro was occupying his thoughts even though they had never spoken, even though they were strangers. The image of Hiro had become a constant presence, driving Tamaki’s curiosity to new heights.
Tamaki finished his song, and his stomach growled. He knew from reviews of the place that this eating style was not in his budget range, but he still wanted to see it.
He slung his guitar across his back and walked over to the restaurant, then peered into the window. he hadn’t seen Hiro come today, but the train had made him later than usual, so he just wanted to have a peek and see if he was in there.
Tamaki leaned against the window, peering at every table carefully, since the one in front of the window was empty.
He let out a wistful sigh when he didn’t see him. He started to straighten up only to catch those magnanimous eyes staring into his from Hiro’s reflection in the window.
Tamaki let out a tiny yelp, startled, he turned, only to collide with Hiro’s sturdy frame. Hiro’s grip on his wrist was firm, perhaps too much so, sending a jolt of pain through Tamaki’s body.
Tamaki winced and let out a small little hiss. But his hips and chest pressed into Hiro’s in the tight space, their bodies had no choice but to make contact.
Hiro gave him a once over then let go, shoving him away lightly while he took a step back, giving them back space.
The air that had been surrounding him and then sucked away was just as quickly put back between them. It both raised his spirits and dropped them instantly.
This was the closest he would ever be to this beautiful creature. He had a sudden wish in his heart that the moment had lasted longer. ‘Dummy, how dare you think that way? You don’t belong in someone like that’s world. That place is meant for someone as beautiful as the girl from the other day.’
“Can I help you?” Hiro asked.
Tamaki looked down at the ground, feeling slightly guilty.
“Uh…”
His stomach growled, interrupting what he was going to say.
Hiro gave him a look but then sighed as if resigned.
“Come.” He ordered, not giving Tamaki a chance to do anything but follow behind him.
Tamaki turned to leave, hoping he could tiptoe away without being noticed. ‘This was a mistake.’
“Does that word mean something different to you than it does for the rest of us?” Hiro’s voice shivered across Tamaki’s skin in delectable little ripples, the slightly gravely deep nature of it matched his stoic and icy demeanor well, and it stirred up feelings in his body that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Tamaki ducked his head down and turned on his heel slowly, back to face Hiro he gazed at him from under his bangs too shy to look up into the face of that radiant magnetism. Hiro held the door open for him, keeping his eye on Tamaki so he couldn’t just disappear.
Tamaki entered the room, the place was busy, and he looked over at Hiro. ‘Maybe I can just apologize and make a break for it?’ He thought, feeling very out of place. Hiro seemed to sense his thoughts, he held out a hand, blocking his escape route pointing to the table in front of the window.
A girl, a foreigner, came to stand beside them. “Sir,” she said in perfect Japanese.
“Just the usual table Sara, same dinner as always, only this time it won’t be my sister and I, but this gentleman…” He paused, his intonation lagging as an invitation for Tamaki to finish the sentence.
“S…Shinto Tamaki.” He said, trying his best to be smooth, but his heart stuttered in his chest and his tongue felt like a slab of jello.
“Shinto Tamaki-san” Hiro said politely.
Tamaki sucked in a deep breath and turned away, trying to shove the giddy elation that oozed across his body and melted into his core back down where no one else would be able to see it.
Hiro walked over and sat down in the same chair he had been in every time he had been here with the lady. Whom Tamaki now realized was his sister. It was a comforting answer to a question he hadn’t known his brain had wanted the information to.
Sara held out her hand towards the chair that Hiro’s sister always sat down in and Tamaki gave her a little half bow and then walked over so that Sara would stop waiting. He looked back at her. She smirked and held back a soft chuckle before she bowed to him and turned around. He bowed back again, but she was already walking away. Tamaki walked through the door with only a moment’s hesitation before he obeyed. Hiro stepped in behind him almost as if he was afraid he would bolt back out if he didn’t
Tamaki watched her leave, his final buoy of a lifeline disappearing into the kitchen. He let out a little sigh of defeat.
Hiro cleared his throat, and Tamaki’s shoulders bristled. He took another pitiful sigh, then very slowly turned around and walked over to the chair; he hesitated a moment but unslung his guitar bag before carefully leaning it against the wall and then sat down, all without looking up.
Tamaki couldn’t understand the situation… his brain struggled with how the math had led him to this moment. Seated across from Hiro in the restaurant. Despite the discomfort of his injured wrist, Tamaki couldn’t help but be drawn to Hiro’s confident demeanor, even as it sent waves of nervous energy coursing through him.
His leg shook under the table.
Sara came back with their food and set it in front of Hiro, then she turned and left.
Hiro grabbed his fork and chopsticks and began to eat.
After a minute, he set them down on the plate. “Are you not hungry?” he asked.
Tamaki shook his head no, not trusting his brain to send the right signals to his mouth or vice versa. His wrist throbbed, and he didn’t want to take it off his lap and lift it above the table for Hiro to see, since he was just wearing a t-shirt, and had no sleeves he could hide in.
“Your stomach was loud enough to drown out the subway, but you are not hungry?” He questioned.
Tamaki leaned forward, ‘The food does smell amazing.’
“Tamaki-san, I have to do these quality checks on the menu and its ingredients two to three times a week. I assure you the food is not going to waste, I am not going out of my way to buy you dinner. I am just tasting the quality of my product. You would be doing me a service by eating, getting your fill, and then telling me your opinion afterward.” Hiro said.
Tamaki nodded. “Oh.” He said, he lifted his right hand and picked up the chopsticks. he winced a little.
Hiro’s head snapped up, and his eyes quickly targeted Tamaki. His eyes lit on Tamaki’s wrist before he could hide it.
Tamaki dropped his hand below the table line so that Hiro couldn’t see. he smiled a him politely, hoping Hiro would look back down soon.
His eyebrows furrowed, and he took his cloth napkin, wiped his face and hands, then set it on the table and stood up.
Tamaki blinked up at him, it felt like the sun’s rays were beaming directly on his skin, his presence was so close, so powerful.
Hiro turned and walked away from the table, clearly upset. The door to the kitchen swung on its axle as he pushed his way inside.
Tamaki’s shoulders slumped forward the way they always did when he was feeling small and trying to make himself smaller.
‘Great, now he is angry because you couldn’t even be grateful for the free meal for one minute. You should have just said thank you… But I didn’t do anything for him, how can I accept such kindness when I can’t do anything back that would be equal to it?’
A minute later, Hiro returned from the kitchen, carrying a small white box.
Hiro held out his hand. “Hand.” He demanded, making the motion to come here with his hand.
Tamaki held out his hand very slowly. Hiro raised an eyebrow but took his hand without saying anything. He got to work inspecting his wrist and then moving on to pulling out the necessary gauze and bandages.
“So you busk outside here every day?”
“No, just the weekends.” He said.
“And Today?” Hiro asked. He began wrapping his wrist in a tiny white strip of cloth.
“Yes, today because it’s Tuesdays.”
“And you busk here on Tuesdays?” Hiro said.
“I do now,” Tamaki admitted.
“Because it is a good spot, near a popular restaurant?” Hiro made conversation.
Their conversation was a little stilted, Tamaki’s thoughts racing as he struggled to maintain composure under Hiro’s penetrating gaze.
“Yes, because it is near your restaurant.” Tamaki watched Hiro’s hands work. Mesmerized.
‘His fingers are so long and adapt. I bet he could do anything well. But every time his skin grazes mine, it is cold.’
“My restaurant?”
“Yes, yours.”
‘I wish I could take them and warm them up. Every time his fingertips touch my wrist, it feels like I need to touch you and warm you up.’
“Because it’s mine.”
Tamaki watched his hands as he pulled them back since he was finished wrapping his wrist up. Tamaki instinctively reached out to grab it, but his left hand slid out of reach too quickly. Tamaki frowned, unsatisfied that was the conclusion.
“Your hands are cold.”
“Do you play here because it is near me?”
Tamaki was only half listening. His mind focused on the cold chill to Hiro’s hand. He had seen him over eight times and in all the times he had seen him he was always dressed up, bundled in a sweater and heavy coat with his hands in his pockets. He had assumed it was a style. But now… it felt like a tiny problem he could fix to relay him for the meal. “It’s just repaying him for the meal. It will be okay to touch someone like Hiro for a… a little bit.”
“Tamaki”
“Hmm,” Tamaki said, only half listening.
“Do you busk here just to see me?”
“Yes.”
“So you are stalking me?”
“Yes,” Tamaki agreed. He paused, the words sinking through his stupor.
“Wait, no.” He amended embarrassment washed over Tamaki, his own insecurity magnified.
“I don’t know where you live. I don’t know everything about you. Actually, very little since I couldn’t find out much when I searched the internet. There isn’t much about you. They had that you live in some fancy house but not where it is. And that you don’t go out much outside the restaurant, you only meet your sister when you are here and some food trucks. So everything reported seems to be fairly true.”
“Nothing mentioned your hands, though.”
Hiro scoffed. “Tamaki, do you like me?”
Tamaki stopped mumbling under his breath, half distracted; and froze perfectly still. He slowly raised his bed and his long bangs flopped out of the way.
“No, I could never.” He said fiercely, “You deserve someone on your level, a level I can’t even touch.” He said.
“A level you can’t even touch? "
" Yes, you deserve to be with someone just as amazing as you are.”
“So, you have thought about who I deserve to be with?”
“Yes, and it isn’t someone like me.”
“Can I hold your hands?” Tamaki asked, still only half listening. He reached out and pulled Hiro’s hands into his own. Bringing them to his face and very gently breathing on them with hot air.
After a moment, it seemed like his fingertips were finally beginning to warm up.
Tamaki rubbed his hands with his thumbs across the top in little circles.
“There, your hands are warm,” Tamaki said, rather pleased with himself he let go of Hiro’s hands.
Finally, he looked back up only to see that Hiro’s face was scrunched up, his eyebrows pressed down again.
“My hands are warm,” Hiro repeated.
“Tamaki, do you have a regular job or just the busking?”
“Just the busking for now, I have been working towards an office job but haven’t been able to land anything for a few months. It’s expensive in Tokyo, and I can barely afford the small room I am living in.” He admitted.
“Would you like a job?” Hiro asked.
Tamaki blinked at him, dumbfounded.
“I’ve been following you for two weeks, and you want to give me a job?” Tamaki asked, very confused.
“Yes, but you will have to sign a waiver.”
“But you just asked if I was a stalker?”
“Yes, yes I did, and you can stalk me all you want if you come back to my house and sign a contract. I never keep anything close to me that isn’t useful, so keep in mind that I am making this offer to you because I just discovered you can be valuable to me. Now I can’t tell you how or why unless you sign a confidentiality agreement with me, but let me preface this with two things. One you don’t have to follow me here on days you normally don’t work. You could see me whenever you wanted. And two I can provide both a roof over your head and plenty of food. So what do you say? Want to come home with me?”
Caught off guard, Tamaki’s heart pounded in his chest as he met Hiro’s gaze.
With a rush of adrenaline, Tamaki managed to stammer out a response,
“Home, with you?”
Hiro stood up and adjusted his sweater as he did so, pulling down on it.
“I’ll go talk to the staff and give you a moment to think about it.” He said, then turned and walked off.
As Hiro departed, leaving Tamaki alone with his thoughts and a throbbing wrist, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just stepped into the beginning of something far more complex and enthralling than one majestic beauty of a man.
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