For Real
*(5/6)
By Sakata Ri Houjun
~****************~
Divine Mountain Landscaping and Nursery was located in Connecticut, but it was in no way difficult for Issac to find. The place was huge, sprawled across several acres of green grass, dotted here and there with steamy hothouses, and surrounded by softly sloping hills and valleys. Where the hills and valleys ended, groves of trees began, lush and proud evergreens and fruit trees on the verge of bursting into full spring bloom.
Funny, Issac thought, how the line of last night's massive blizzard seemed to have stopped right at the edge of New York City. Certainly, it hadn't touched Connecticut at all.
The tires of his car crunched over gravel and stray bits of cypress mulch as he pulled up before what appeared to be the main building. When he threw open his door and stepped outside, he was assaulted by the fragrance of pine and freshly turned earth. The aroma reminded him instantly of his dreams of wandering vast mountainsides with Shawn, and not for the first time, he wondered why the owner and operator of such a large business came in person to water the plants in his office every Tuesday.
Because it was good PR, he answered himself immediately. Making the customer feel like they were number one was always the right way to do business.
Issac pushed his way through the front door and was greeted at once by Kenji Nakama, who breezed through another door to Issac's left. When the young man saw him, however, he halted abruptly, and for some reason looked a little guilty.
How odd, Issac thought. Kenji's expression was almost identical to the one Thomas had worn in his office scarcely an hour ago.
Mr. Ido, he said, bobbing his head in greeting. Can I help you?
Is Mr. Hane here? Issac asked.
The other man nodded. He's in the back room. You want me to go get him?
Issac shook his head. That won't be necessary. If you'll just point me in the right direction
Within minutes, Issac found himself knocking on a discreet door. From inside, he heard Shawn's voice calling out, It's unlocked.
Slowly, Issac cracked open the door and peaked his head in, expecting to find the younger man getting his hands dirty. Well his hands were dirty, but not with soil. He was standing before a large canvas with a rainbow of paint splattered up to his elbows.
The name rose softly from his throat, carried on a breath of disbelief as if whispering an incantation.
he replied without thinking.
He smiled as he set down his brush and picked up an equally multi-colored towel while he strode towards him, wiping his hands. What? No Mr. Hane'? His hand flew to splay open over his heart. Why, Issac, I'm touched. Really, I am.
He ignored both his sarcasm and his gaffe. Mr. Hane, I need to talk to you?
What can I do for you?
Issac nodded over his right shoulder, toward the door he had just entered through. I have your trench coat out in my car. Thank you for loaning it to me last night.
He smiled, that maddeningly knowing smile that sent an involuntary, and not unpleasant, squirm wiggling through the older man's entire body. Any time, he returned. He then walked past Issac towards a potted flower blooming in vibrant shades of scarlet and picked it up. Do you mind if I make a stop off at one of the greenhouses to drop this off?
Not at all, Mr. Hane. Issac looked around the room, noticing that several canvases lined the walls, each one painted with either a still life of flowers or landscapes. A few were still on easels, covered with cloths to prevent the idle onlooker, like himself, from viewing what had been painted. And then he noticed how much Shawn seemed to fit in among such settings, his worn tee-shirt and faded jeans covered in layers of paint, barefoot on the hard wood of the floor, and his wild hair tied away from his face which did not escape the spattering of paint.
Shawn led the way, exiting through the back door and heading down a stone walkway towards the threshold of what could only be the most amazing place Issac had ever seen. The glass house was like a monstrous gemstone, the sunlight refracted erratically through windows that were smudged and dripping with condensation, thanks to the elevated heat inside that countered the chill in the air outside. And the aroma that assailed him was exquisite, luscious and poignant, unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. Around him were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of flowering plants, fat green vegetation splashed with delicate blooms in the most incredible colors Issac had ever seen.
So stunned was he by the utter beauty of his surroundings, that his breath caught in his throat, and his thoughts evaporated from his brain. For a moment, he was too immersed in the stark, radiant magnificence of nature to notice anything else. He'd had no idea that such a place as this could exist on what was and otherwise pallid planet.
Shawn placed the potted flower he carried on the floor, next to several others, and then straightened to face Issac again. Sorry about the detour, but I sometimes have this urge to paint and I've always been particular about the color red. Not that I always do still life, but I've also been painting what comes into my head too. He smiled as he scratched the back of his head. I'm surprised that you came all the way out here just to return my coat.
"Yes, there's another reason why I've come.
What? Don't tell me you drove all the way out here just to see me because you couldn't stand not having me so close? I knew that returning the coat was a lame bit.
Issac sighed, drumming his fingers nervously against his leg. No, Mr. Hane, it wasn't a lame bit. And neither is the rest of what I have to say to you.
Which is?
He inhaled a quick breath, and said as he exhaled it, You're fired.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. I'm what?
You're fired.
He leaned back on his heels, crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at Issac even more. You can't fire me. I'm not one of your employees.
No, but you do work for me, in a sense.
Shawn nodded, made a rather large production of pretending to suddenly recall something, and then slapped a hand to his forehead in mock stupidity. Oh, yeah. How could I forget about being the guy who comes to water the plants every fucking Tuesday? It's something you frequently remind me of.
Issac's reaction was as bland as his was colorful. Yes, well, now you won't have to come in and water the plants every Tuesday. You're fired.
But we have a contract, he pointed out, the businessman in him obviously finally starting to kick in. You signed on for a full year. You still owe me five months.
The businessman in Issac also kicked in then, too. That contract also states very clearly that if I'm ever dissatisfied with your service in any way, I can discontinue it at any time without being penalized.
You've never given me any indication that you were ever dissatisfied with my service.
I am now.
Shawn gazed at him thoughtfully. You're dissatisfied with my service?
Issac gazed back. I believe that's what I just said, yes.
His eyes darkened, and his lips flattened into a tight line. Is that so?
Yes, that's so.
Shawn leaned forward, tilting his head toward the older man's until he was eye-to-eye with him as he could be. Gee, you didn't seem especially dissatisfied with my service last night, he said levelly. On the contrary, I'd say you were extremely satisfied with my service. Or, at least, you could have been, if you allowed things to progress.
Before he realized what he was doing, Issac shot his hand out to push him away, but was prevented from succeeding only because Shawn, clearly expecting such a reaction, intercepted him by catching his wrist in strong fingers. He didn't know what came over him. He'd never struck a living creature before in his life, had never even been tempted to. But there he was, the evidence of his aggression overwhelming, ready to do harm to another human being.
Immediately, he tried to snatch his hand back, but Shawn held onto him firmly.
Hit a nerve, did I? he asked.
You have no idea what you're talking about, he assured the younger man in a less than steady voice.
Shawn studied him intently for a moment, seeming to weigh something heavily in consideration. Just when he thought he would never speak again, Shawn told him evenly, No, you know, I think maybe that's part of your problem, Issac. You don't know what you're talking about.
Issac shook his head, confused by the turn of tables. What do you mean?
I mean you never have been satisfied, have you?
Of course I have. I've-"
Don't bother to deny it. It's obvious you've never been satisfied by anyone.
How dare you-"
It's obvious you've never experienced real passion.
Issac expelled a sound of disbelief, and tried again to free his wrist from his grasp. But Shawn continued to hold him firmly. I'm twenty-seven, he reminded him, temporarily ceasing his struggles, not some innocent high-school virgin. I think I've had my share of passion, thank you very much.
Shawn shook his head. I didn't say you'd never fucked. I said you've never enjoyed real passion. Real passion, Issac, is sort of like true love. Very hard to come by.
Oh, and I suppose you know all about real passion, he countered. You are, after all, the expert on true love.
He seemed to give his charge serious thought, and then he shook his head slowly. No. You know, now that you mention it, I'm not sure I've experienced real passion, either. Mind you, he added quickly, I've had some very nice passion in the past, butI don't think it's been the real thing, pure and unadulterated passion.
Issac took advantage of his preoccupation to give his wrist another yank, and this time he managed to free himself from his hold. He circled his wrist with his own fingers, noting that they were cool and detached and held nothing of the odd heat that Shawn's had possessed.
Well, then, now you have a goal for the future, he snapped. A quest, as it was.
He nodded, rubbing his index finger thoughtfully under his chin. You know, you're right. This could be interesting. What do you say? You want to come with me on the search for real passion?
Issac lifted his chin defiantly. Do you think we can get back to the matter at hand?
Right. The fact that neither of us has enjoyed real passion.
No, the fact that you're fired.
I like my fact better.
Your fact is no fact. It's fantasy.
So you're going to stand here and tell me that real passion, like true love, doesn't exist, and that it is simply the product of great ads, is that it?
Issac nodded and replied simply,
It has nothing to do with the response of the human heart to certain, ohstimulation, is that what you're saying?
Again, he nodded and again, he offered him a simple reply.
So, if I kissed you again right now, that wouldn't have any effect of you, right?
Issac felt his face coloring in irritation, felt his belly go all hot and tight inside. He cursed his fair complexion for being so damnably revealing. In spite of his physical reaction, however, he assured him, Of course it wouldn't.
Even though our kiss last night had a pretty damn big effect on you?
Issac dropped his gaze to study the crimson flowers lining the floor. What happened last night was just the result of too little sleep and too much chocolate.
I thought you said things like that happened because of good advertising.
His brain was humming with disorder by now, and he wished Shawn Hane would stop being so annoying and trying to confuse him with his own words. Yes, and that, too, he said, not altogether certain what he had just agreed with.
So like I said, if I kissed you now, you wouldn't have any reaction at all?
Yes, you wouldn't have any reaction, or yes, you would?
Issac narrowed his eyes in chagrin, his head still buzzing with confusion.
Instead of answering him verbally, Shawn looped one arm around his waist to pull his body flush against his. Issac was so surprised by his gesture that he didn't immediately pull away, and instead opened his palms lightly against his chest. Evidently taking his lack of struggle as an accession, which Issac had to admit that he wasn't sure it wasn't, Shawn combed his fingers through the hair at his nape and angled his head toward his. Then with one final smile, he lowered his lips.
Unaffected, Issac reminded himself stoically as Shawn brushed his mouth lightly over his own. He was to remain completely, totally unaffect What was he supposed to remain again? Oh, yeah. Unaffected.
Yet as Shawn deepened the kiss, unaffected was the last thing he felt. When he claimed his mouth with his, his traitorous hands skimmed up his chest to wind around his neck and into his hair. He pulled the rubber band from his ponytail and tangled the soft tresses in his fingers, then cupped his rough jaw in his palms, marveling at the differences in the two textures. He dragged one hand back down the length of his chest, and then roped it around his waist. Shawn seemed to grow bolder with Issac's insistence, because he pulled him closer still.
Issac felt Shawn's hands on his back, on his shoulders, at his waist, then felt him journey around to the front of him, over his flat stomach and chest. He tightened his fingers in the fiery silk, drawing his head closer to his, their mouths warring over who could consume the other first. So focused was Issac on the feel of Shawn in his mouth, that he scarcely noticed when he took his explorations further. Not until he could feel him dip his fingers beneath his sweater and drag them along the backs of his thighs and over his derriere. Not until that one, solitary, delicious moment when he enjoyed the warm insistence of his palm as it pressed him against Shawn's body and rubbed their groins against each other in rough, erotic circles.
Only then did Issac realize just how far he had allowed things to progress. Only then did he understand just how utterly affected he was by Shawn Hane. Only then did he realize what kind of a mess he had created for himself. And only then did he find the strength to push him away. Hard.
Shawn's surprise at Issac's vehemence was the only reason he succeeded in breaking their embrace. He clearly had the upper hand in the matter, and he had willingly allowed the younger man to take it. Now, however, he was apparently willing to let Issac have it back. For that he was grateful. But not for much more.
At his sudden push, Shawn stepped away from him, but still stood quite close. Issac heard his breath coming in rasping fits and starts and saw that his black pupils nearly eclipsed the vivid gold surrounding them. The taste of the younger man lingered on his tongue, and the earthy scent of him filled Issac's nostrils. Almost involuntarily, the older man lifted a hand out to reach him, but quickly altered the gesture to run fingers through his hair. When he noted that his fingers were trembling, however, he dropped his hand back to his side. Then, unable to tolerate the stark angry look of abandonment in Shawn's eyes, he dropped his gaze as well.
Shawn's voice wavered some, so he cleared his throat and tried again. That's not what I'd call unaffected.
Issac inhaled a fortifying breath and released it slowly. No. No, I guess I wasn't as, uh, unaffected as I thought I'd be.
So now you admit that there's something pretty hot and heavy burning up the air between us?
Yes. I'll admit that.
From somewhere deep inside himself, Issac found the strength to glance up and meet his gaze. He was surprised to find him smiling. Smiling a bit anxiously, he had to confess, but smiling nonetheless.
So then I'm not fired? he asked. He had assumed a very confident pose, but the timbre of his voice assured Issac that he was anything but confident of his response.
He looked down at the floor again, and his heart tightened in his chest. Somehow, at some point during their embrace, one of them had stepped on and crushed one of the gorgeous red flowers that had been on the floor. What had once been a fragrant, vibrant, beautiful existence now lay limp and broken on the floor. Tears stung his eyes, and Issac couldn't understand why. It was only a plant, he reminded himself. It didn't have feelings. Yet for some reason, the death of that flower sparked something dark and grievous inside him.
He recalled that Shawn had asked him a question he hadn't answered, and he looked up to find him eyeing him curiously. Um, no, he finally said. No, you're not fired.
Shawn's smile was full of relief. I take it, then, that you're satisfied with my service?
he asked, still preoccupied by the dead flower lying between them.
he repeated. You're satisfied with my service?
Oh, yes. Yes, I'm satisfied.
Good. Always happy to oblige a customer. It's in my contract after all.
Issac shook his head in an effort to clear the cobwebs from his brain. What he and Shawn might enjoy together would be erotic, untamed, and beautiful. But even the most beautiful things in the world eventually, ultimately died. The two of them had nothing in common beyond a professional contract and a personal desire. Shawn lived in the country, he in the city. And their livelihoods depended on their home base. Shawn seemed comfortable amid natural elements while he was used to boardrooms. Shawn was a wild creature, completely uncontained. He was bound by a specified set of societal regulations.
It would never work in the end.
It might be fun for a little while, but there was no question in his mind that in the end, their relationship would be as dead as the flower. One of them was going to end up getting hurt and Issac didn't want to speculate how he'd react if he allowed his heart to be given away.
I have to go, he said suddenly, turning away.
But before he could bolt through the door, as he had intended, Shawn caught his hand and pulled him back.
he echoed. Why? Where? Things are just starting to get interesting.
Issac allowed himself one final survey of him, starting at his bare feet, up along the lengths of his denim-clad, paint spattered legs, lingering at the taunt, flat belly and truly remarkable chest. His arms too, he recalled were extraordinary, strong and yet gentle, capable of hauling heavy weights. And his hands, he musedtender and masculine, creators of delicate strokes of paint on a canvas.
His gaze met Shawn's then, and he nearly lost himself in those amazing eyes. Issac closed his own, and freed himself. I have to go, he repeated.
But-"
I'll see you on Tuesday, he said softly as he turned away again. Issac forced a lightness he didn't feel into his voice as he added, Don't forget your watering can.
Not wanting to see what effect his jab had on the younger man, Issac hurried through the door and out to his car, spewing gravel in his wake as he sped away. He completely forgot that he still had Shawn's coat folded neatly and primly on the backseat.
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Well, that went over well. Kenji shook his head as he and Thomas watched from the office window Issac's car disappearing from sight.
Houjun is behaving most disagreeably. I suppose we are going to have to take more drastic measures, Thomas mused.
Like what?
He pressed two fingers to his mouth and thought for a moment. The Parmentier Masque is next weekend
How could I forget? Kenji responded. Genrou and I are designing the landscape for the event this year.
Thomas turned and eyed his companion thoughtfully. Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Kouji?
He eyed him thoughtfully in return. Well I have spent some time in a forest alone with a girl or two to understand what you're implying
Most everyone will be inside during this chilly weather. And dressed in the theme of Mystic China, no less. How terribly appropriate.
Genrou's already said that he refuses to wear a costume, Kenji acknowledged. But I think he'll change his mind soon.
And Houjun swears he's leaving as soon as possible without offending Mrs. Parmentier, Thomas replied.
The two spirits smiled.
I know that anything can happen when two people are alone in a forest, Kenji said. The solitude does some pretty strange shit to the hormones.
And people, Thomas added, particularly lovers, say and do the most remarkable things at that time.
Kenji looped his arm around Thomas's neck and pulled him close. Oh Hikou, I never knew you had it in you.
He hooked his hands at the small of Kenji's back. I guess you must be rubbing off on me.
