Chapter VIII (8)

Sensei Shimezu didn't expect the slightly disheveled look gracing Asami's normally indifferent face as he sauntered into the VIP room at Club Olympus. The only thing giving the appearance of untidiness was Asami's missing tie, lost somewhere between the front doors of the club and the VIP room, where Asami currently held court or whatever he called sitting in a private room by himself.

Come to think of it, he thought he saw a glowing black tie (although it was hard to tell the color under the neon lights of the dance floor) tied like a sweat band on a young girl's head as she writhed inside a clear plastic cage, a snake (a real one) wrapped around her naked body, barely covering her tits.

One would think the tie-less god-like man sitting god-like on his god-like throne in this godforsaken place had somewhere to go and something (or someone) to do, because Asami the god-like man (at least in his mind) glanced at his watch every few seconds, like he could speed up time. Being god-like meant like a god and not a god, although Asami probably didn't get the subtle difference, so he didn't actually have control over time, a fact that seemed to irritate him, judging by those frown lines on his face.

Asami had an uncharacteristic, aloof way of greeting him and his companion as Asami downed an amber colored cocktail like a man dying of thirst. The greeting not a greeting at all, but a gesture with two fingers toward two empty overstuffed purple chairs shoved into one corner of the oblong room.

"You look a little green around the gills, Asami-san." Sensei said with a cigarette bobbing in one hand his other hand occupied rubbing his lover's brightly dyed yellow hair. "Throwing a temper tantrum?"

Asami seemed to totally ignore everything the man just said, as usual. "Enjoying the party?" He even sounded disheveled, his voice slightly thick, as if his tongue didn't work. Or it could be some trick of the room's sound dampening features, which didn't work either, as the faint boom boom of the bass radiated through his toes. "Well, so am I, so am I." He added finally, although Sensei never answered his question.

Sensei thought he heard sarcasm in that statement, but Asami's tone hadn't changed, so he wasn't sure. "Dateless again? And here I had hoped our two pets would frolic for our enjoyment." Sensei admired the beautiful young man hungrily. His date seemed more cat-like than man in his spotted spandex leotard with matching tail and ears. Spotted pet wrinkled his nose and gave a little mew noise, even though leopards roar, not mew. He gave that twitching nose a soft pet with his pinky.

Asami rolled his eyes. "My pet is shy and refuses to come out of his cage. He's spent a better part of the week up at Mount To." Asami picked up a cigarette from a cobalt blue box. "I would blame you for it, but then again…." He waved the cigarette in his direction. "Actually I do blame you, you made him think too much. I've gotten a headache from his thinking too much."

"He meditated under a waterfall, neh?" He asked his high voice thick with mockery. "You can throw blame my way but we all know…" He pointed a stubbed finger towards Asami, "that it's entirely your fault."

"It was under a bodhi tree, actually, and it's never my fault, even when it is." Asami lit up the cigarette and waved it around in the air, perfuming the already ripe room with the scent of smoke. He coughed a little. "Not my brand."

"I think your Akihito has taken Buddha's Noble Truth Life is Suffering literally, don't you think?" Sensei blew a puff of smoke out of his nose forcefully. He liked to do that, it made, at least to him, look like a dragon. "So, what you're telling me is the boy is healing nicely? Thanks to me? Here, stroke my ego some more, I need stroking."

The beautiful man next to him stroked not his ego, but the nipples underneath his pristine white toga. Sensei inhaled and exhaled several times and threw back his head dramatically.

Asami seemed to ignore his lack of modesty, not that he had any to begin with. "Ah….the tragic tale of Akihito the hero…..continues to run at the local playhouse….it's the tearjerker of the century." That one eyebrow rose making the lines on his forehead wrinkle, looking like faded scars. "And my mother visited him tonight. That's enough tragedy for anyone to endure."

"She could play Medusa rather well, don't you think?" Sensei smirked. "So why didn't you bop the boy on the head and drag him here for White Day?"

Asami shrugged and eyed the statue of Aphrodite that seemed to materialize suddenly at his side. Then, the statue winked at him. Asami turned and with calculated indifference on his face, offered the goddess his cigarette. "Here, I quit smoking." Asami said with a wink of his own to the goddess before turning back to Sensei. "You know I always go stag on White Day, it's the tradition."

Asami's face darkened and his lips curled for an instant, and then, just as quickly, the look subsided. "Have you been consorting with Bacchus, Asami-san? You seem a little tipsy to me." Sensei asked, his glasses reflecting purple from the purple hued lighting, coloring all the white columns lavender, like the flower that's also purple.

Asami admired the goddess standing regally next to him, watching her smoke his offered cigarette. The goddess appeared like a statue, moved like a statue, if statues could move, jointed arms stopping and starting with each little breath. She looked naked, save for the tiny thong covering the genital area.

"Bacchus is in the house! It's a White Day tradition to get shit-faced at my party." Asami took two tiny sips of his drink, and then downed the rest of it. "I'm upholding all my White Day traditions, it's the tradition and they must be upheld. So, I'm upholding them."

If Sensei seemed shocked at Asami's colorful dialogue he tried not to show it. Asami was drunk, and he tried not to show it. No one showed their actual faces on Sion Corps White Day party, since it was a costume party. So you could wear any mask you wanted, or take off the mask you showed the rest of the world, or not.

The goddess standing there with his half-smoked ciggy leaned over and traced the lines on Asami's face with her nails. "Poor baby, got dumped?" She said. There was no mistaking it after he opened his mouth. The goddess had a deep, smoke-tinged voice with an Adam's apple the size of a golf ball that bobbed underneath the white liquid latex coating his throat. There was no mistaking it. The goddess was no goddess, but a god, a jewel among men. But, like good men and good statues he saw everything, but remembered nothing. "Be filled with Aphrodite's love." He whispered, his lashes fluttering with every word.

"I wasn't dumped, actually." Asami argued. "What is the opposite of dumped?"

"Kept? Like a pet?" Aphrodite the nymph-like goddess titled his head, while his stiff powdered hair wiggled, sending powder flying around the room.

"Oooo…wrong thing to say, Aphrodite. By the way, your penis is showing." Sensei said evenly, and without humor. "Go pollinate something."

"I'll bring you the house nectar, Asami-sama… in other words, a nice fresh carafe of water, you look piqued." He said, while sashaying his latex covered butt towards the door. Aphrodite grinned manically. "By the way, Jesus called, he needs his wood back."

"Hahhahaah heheeeh hoooho hooo….wrong era, but that was a riot anyway, your staff is vocal tonight." He laughed and patted his leg at the same time. The man-leopard hybrid crept up slowly and threw one leg over Sensei's thigh, mounting it like a horse. Sensei studied Asami with judgment, watching him as he evaded his eyes from their foreplay, pretending to admire the mirror covered ceiling instead. He pecked his pet's spotted cheek with his lips before taking playful nip at his throat. The pet inhaled through his teeth and caught Asami's eyes.

"You still with this blowhard, Nakai Sensei?" He asked the thoroughly aroused man currently dry humping Sensei's thigh.

"This blowhard gives good blowjobs." He replied, grinning, his thick black lashes barely containing the lust in his eyes. "He makes me happy…..are you happy Asami-san?"

Asami took another cigarette, since he'd given the first one away. "As a clam. Although I'm not sure why we associate clams with happiness."

"Now who is thinking too much?" Sensei pulled his toga up, the outline of his hard-on evident through his skimpy robe." "Where's your costume Asami-san?"

"I'm in costume. I'm a fired salaryman." He sniffed at the white chrysanthemum drooping from buttonhole and added with a funny grin, "I'm the walking dead."

"For you to be this blue, then you must have need of even a god's folly." Sensei replied.

"In the pink, rather than blue, it would seem." Asami took another deep drag of his cigarette and closed his eyes for a moment. "All these colors make my eyes hurt." He rubbed his eyes for emphasis.

"Don't tell me you stood in the rain without an umbrella and caught a cold." He gave his lover's chin a gentle lick with his overly long pink tongue, giving Asami the doctor look.

"I'm not sick." He poured another glass of scotch out of his giant carafe and held the glass almost lovingly.

"Well, I'm not that kind of doctor, but lucky for you, there is a doctor in the house, have a look at him Sensei Pet baby." He ordered.

The leopard/pet/sensei bounced off his lover's bare leg and grabbed Asami's face. "He doesn't have a fever. But you do look flushed."

"He's not that kind of doctor either, he's a veterinarian." Asami argued.

"And you're a dog, so it seems to work out in the end." Sensei grinned, he liked that analogy. "Woof woof!"

"Just don't shove a thermometer up my ass, I'm not a uke." Warned Asami, with a narrowing of his glazed over eyes.

"How much have you had to drink?" The veterinarian dressed as a leopard asked, wiggling his painted on whiskers.

"Not enough, Sensei, I'm still only seeing one of you." Asami discarded his half-smoked cigarette and closed his eyes.

"One is enough of me, right Master?" He gave his master/lover/partner a wink, his hard-on pointing straight up through his thin leotard.

Sensei Shimuzu's glasses fogged up and he coughed. "You should call it a night, Asami-san…you….uh…." He turned and grinned, admiring the sleeping, snoring form reclining haphazardly on the chair.

"Well, even the gods of men require rest." Sensei Shimuzu stated, flicking his cigarette in the porcelain ash-tray with the pictures of naked Greek men on the bottom.

"Poor Asami-san."

"Even rich men deserve to be happy, don't you think?" The leopard flicked his tail, tickling his lover's nose as he left the sleeping crime lord to his dreams of conquest.

"You can never be too rich, or too happy, my love." He gave his pet a spank on the ass, before losing themselves among the throngs of drunken costumed idiots.

With a low rumble in his throat, Asami answered with a snore.