Men of Tokyo: Sudden Bliss

Excerpt from: Mewn of Tokyo: Sudden Bliss

Koji-san…Koji-san?

Koji heard his name repeat in the air close by. Like a mosquito, it buzzed in his ear, annoying and insistent. He’d answer…in a minute. This was too important.

He kept typing, eyes glued to the monitor. The Meiji Memorial Hospital account was his baby. Nothing else mattered.

The mosquito buzz stopped a moment, followed by the sound of a throat clearing. Once. Twice. Then a third time.

The sound was soft and feminine. He caught a whiff of perfume, and then long, pink lacquered nails drummed softly on the desk beside his keyboard.

His hands stilled over the keys and he looked up, following the scent of perfume. The symbols and letters he’d been focusing on hovered in his vision. Behind them was Tomoko. His boss’s secretary. He blinked and her face came into focus. Worry lines marred her usually smooth forehead.

Worry lines? Tomoko standing at his desk, working so hard to get his attention? A strange feeling tickled in his gut, penetrating the fog of words and numbers imprinted like ticker tape across his vision.

“Koji-san, Mr. Miosuke wants to see you.” Tomoko’s voice was soft and courteous as usual, though it sounded as if she were speaking from the end of a tunnel.

Her words took a few extra seconds to process. When they did, his stomach tightened. “Do you know what he wants?” Miosuke usually only summoned people to his office when they’d done something wrong.

The young woman shook her head, though her frown remained. “No, Koji-san. He just said now.” Shimatta. When Miosuke said now, it was never good. He was in trouble, no doubt, though he couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong. Maybe he should have been working eighty-hour weeks instead of seventy-five.

Slowly he rose from his desk, heart pounding, and followed Tomoko past the rows of cubicles where his fellow engineers tapped away at their keyboards. The clacking sound that he’d stopped noticing long ago, now echoed through his brain and matched the rhythm of his heart. Then there was that ache in his neck, the one he never noticed while typing, and now rubbed it with one hand as he walked.

Too bad he wasn’t into women. He couldn’t even distract himself by watching Tomoko’s stockinged legs as she walked in front of him. Tomoko was pretty and her round bottom pressed against her tight skirt with each step she took. But he might as well have been watching his sister, Gina, for all the sight aroused him. The only thing that drew him was Tomoko’s long sleek hair. But it stopped there. He tried to imagine that long sleek hair brushing across the back of a broad-shouldered guy full of hard, rounded muscles and a thick cock. It worked…for a second. Miosuke’s door loomed ahead. Besides, a fantasy didn’t work as well as the real thing.

Not that there was anyone in the office to distract him either. None of the guys around him fit the visual either. The only guy who’d ever come a bit close had left for another job a long time ago. Koji remembered him briefly as he followed Tomoko. A few stolen blowjobs in the broom closet before stealing back out into the hallway, making their way back to the office separately, as if nothing had happened. It had been hell. A hell he hadn’t wanted to repeat. Other than that, eighteen hours a day at his desk didn’t allow time for more than jacking off in the shower.

“Go on in, Koji-san.” Tomoko smiled though the worry still showed in her eyes. She held the door to Miosuke’s office open for him.

Koji pulled in a deep breath and walked in.

The older man looked up from his desk, gave a brief nod and gestured to a chair. Like Tomoko, the man had worry lines, but unlike Tomoko, the hard look in his dark eyes made Koji feel pierced through the middle.

The door shut behind him. Koji bowed, his breath caught somewhere in his windpipe. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Miosuke nodded. “Hai. Have a seat.”

Koji bowed again quickly and lowered himself into the chair indicated. His palms already sweated and he folded his hands in his lap, prepared to take whatever verbal lashing was coming.

Miosuke leaned forward on his elbows. “Watanabe-san, you’re a valued member of this firm.”

Koji lowered his head, a gesture of modesty when accepting praise. “Domo arigato.”

“You’re welcome. But,” Miosuke continued slowly, “the talk flitting about the office is that you’re here every night until at least eleven and then in again early, well before eight most mornings.”

Koji’s heart did a strange little flip. Others around him worked nearly as many hours. At least he thought they did. “I am only trying to do my best. The Meiji Memor—”

“When was your last vacation?” Miosuke fixed him with pointed look.

Nande? Koji caught himself staring a moment at the older man. What was he getting at? He tried to recollect, then the memory of last summer came to him. He’d taken one day for Gina’s wedding and then come back to work. Two months later, after his stepmother had died of cancer, he’d taken two days for the funeral, one for the service and then the next for Shizuko’s cremation ceremony.

He cleared his throat. “Um, last summer. I…took…a few days.”

“For a funeral. That’s no vacation.” Miosuke’s voice softened appropriately.

Koji fought down the memory of Shizuko in her coffin. “The Sanyohama account had to be looked after,” he went on, “and I was afraid to leave it to someone else. A health clinic, you know…I couldn’t take any chances of their system running down.”

“Yes, I remember that.” Miosuke cleared his throat again. “Watanabe-san, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

Koji furrowed his brow. Funny, Gina had asked him if he had the flu or something when he went to her house for dinner last night. He’d gone into her bathroom and looked at himself to see if he appeared as ill as she thought. All he saw were the usual dark circles under his eyes. But he’d never exactly been a vibrant picture of health, even when he’d played sports and practiced karate. “When I brush my teeth I look in the mirror.”

Miosuke scratched at his head, a strange look on his lined face. “You are not only a good employee, Watanabe-san,” he said, “you’re an investment.”

“Sir? An investment?”

“Hai.” Miosuke gestured towards him. “You are a producer, bringing income to Toshio Systems. It is my job to protect this firm’s investments.”

Koji’s heartbeat sped up, the way it always did when he used to play soccer. It hadn’t pounded quite this way in a long time. “I don’t understand. I’m sorry.” It didn’t sound like he was about to be reprimanded or terminated. Yet, Miosuke was getting at something.

“What I’m trying to tell you is as of this moment, you’re officially on vacation. For at least one week.”

Icy heat prickled down Koji’s arms. “Miosuke-san, no, I mean, I’m in the middle of corrections to the Meiji account.” Knowing he was being disrespectful, he fell silent and bowed. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying his plea would move Miosuke. He had to finish this account. Had to. And he was the only one who could make sure it was done and done right.

“Watanabe-san,” Miosuke’s voice had taken on an edge. “You failed to mention to me that twice this week the office manager has come in at six in the morning and found you asleep at your desk. I am all for your being a productive employee, but if you burn out and your health fails, you will not be able to produce at all.”

Miosuke held up a folder and set it back down. “According to my file on you, all your projects are up and running perfectly. Not a glitch. All they now require is minimal maintenance. That can be done by me or one of your colleagues. His face softened a bit. “I promise, we will take good care of them for you while you’re gone.”

Gone. The word rang through Koji’s mind like a death knell.

Miosuke picked up the receiver of his desk phone. “I have booked you a room in the Crown Hotel for a week, starting this morning.” Koji shot up from his seat. “No, sir, I…beg you.” He was behaving in the most unseemly manner but couldn’t help himself. Not only was he being forced away from the most important account of his career, but also Miosuke was forcing him to go to the Crown! Toshio Systems reserved several rest-cure rooms there for employees at all times. He’d die, absolutely die, if they stuck him in one of those small rooms with nothing in it but a bed, no space for his laptop, no cell phone allowed and no other clothing than T-shirts and shorts. And then to be put through a daily regimen of exercise, being sat down to meals. Kuso!

Miosuke’s face settled into a neutral tone, as if he’d steeled himself against all of Koji’s objections. The older man pushed a button on the phone and waited. “Security? Yes, I need you to escort an employee out of the building and down to the Crown.” He hung up the receiver. “I’m sorry, Watanabe-san. I anticipated this response. You are fast on the road to complete burnout. Toshio Systems cannot allow this. Your failed health will cost us more in insurance payments in the long run.

The Crown is a luxury hotel. One of the finest in Tokyo. They have a spa, massages, fine cuisine. You’ll enjoy it.”

Desperation fanned through Koji’s chest. Images of that little room, being locked in, insane because he couldn’t work, cut off from…the world. No! He had to think fast, had to find a middle way solution. Then the idea hit him.

And none too soon. The door to Miosuke’s office opened and two uniformed security guards entered.

Koji’s heart jumped. He sank bank into his chair, not knowing whether to be terrified or humiliated. “Miosuke-san, you are right. I’ll take my vacation. Just, please, I beg you, let me choose the place. I’ll go right now.” His heart pumped and his hands trembled in his lap.

Miosuke held up a hand to the guards. “Just a moment.” His hard look fell on Koji. “What place is this?” Koji bowed his head. No doubt, some of the guys in his office went to the place he had in mind, but none of them needed to broadcast it to their boss the way he did now. And Miosuke would understand immediately once Koji named the neighbourhood it was in. However, faced with even two minutes at the Crown, he’d strip down naked and play a Mozart sonata on his violin in the middle of the office if it would keep him from being forced there. “The White Tiger. It’s a…hotel…a ryokan…in Ni Chome.”

A men’s hotel in Tokyo’s premier gay neighbourhood.

He’d actually thought about going there on his last vacation, at least for a couple of days. The last time he’d been at a gay bar, he’d heard some guys talking about the White Tiger. Koji had never been a big one for eavesdropping, but more than his ears had pricked up when he’d heard them say that the men at the White Tiger were gorgeous and gave incredible blowjobs, whenever you wanted one. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—baths and massages, pampering and…those same gorgeous men walking around in skimpy clothes all the time. Sounded like paradise. But he’d never made it there.

How ironic. Now he was basically being forced to go.