Host's Chocolate 4

Host's Chocolate
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Yao looked to the clock, getting up with a stretch. “Anyway, you enjoy that. I have to get going?”

“Host work?”

“Of course.” Yao walked to the door, pulling back on his shoes and hat. “Don’t let Snowy chew up anything, ‘kay?” Mei nodded slowly. Yao looked at him with a chuckle. “You’re supposed to say something like: Aw! You ruined my plan!” Mei blinked, totally confused. Yao waved his hand at him, “Nevermind. I’ll be back soon.”

“Bye,” Mei waved, watching Yao leave.

Mei sat quietly by the sofa, pulling a blanket from its back around him and sighed. “What a homey feeling.” He sighed, pulling his knees to his chest. “I could get lost in this warmth.” He smiled, closed his eyes and buried his face into the blankets.

Down the road, Yao walked in to the host club. He waved and smiled at the girls, then took a seat his usual table. A girl in a cocktail dress with long silver hair came over to him.

“What’s up, Yao?” she asked with a smile, “You’re not having hot cocoa to start the evening like always?”

“Nah, I think I’ll pass.” He smiled to her, leaning back in his seat.

She frowned, “But Yao… You haven’t passed it up since Moi died.” She slowly backed up and then went back to the counter when she saw that threatening air from Yao’s eyes fall upon her.

“Ah, you over did it, Cellie,” the man at the counter sighed.

“But I was just trying to see what was wrong!” she whined.

The man shook his head, “It’s only been two months and for Yao to smile like this,” he paused, “He must be fighting a lot of pain.”

“Why do you think he passed up the drink?” Cellie asked, looking at Yao as he kindly greeted his first customer of the evening to join him.

The man smiled, chuckling, “I get the feeling that he’s got someone waiting for him at home.”

“Someone?” she blinked, “You mean…” Cellie leaned to whisper to him, “Lover?”

“No, Yao isn’t like that.” The man poured a glass of wine, handing it to Cellie. “He was fully dedicated to Moi. My guess is the person waiting for him has been as beaten and bruised as him.”

“You mean… Fellows that glue together?”

“That’s ‘birds that flock together’.”

Several hours later into the night, almost at 9pm, Yao walked over to the counter. “Hey, Joe,” he waved. “Anyone else for me?”

“A personal call for you,” the man said, looking at a sheet of paper. “They flat out said they wanted a sexual partner for the night.”

Yao closed his eyes, thinking for a moment. “Tell them I can’t.”

“Eh? But Yao!”

Yao just walked to the front door. He stopped, saying over his shoulder, “In fact. Take me off the list for sexual partners for the rest of eternity.”

“Someone you like waiting for you?” Joe asked as he scribbled something down on the paper.

Yao turned his head to Joe, a slight smile on his face, one that hadn’t been seen in weeks. “Just a little bird without a tune.” He waved to him and left, “Night, Joe.”

Joe just stood there chuckling to himself. Not many would understand his and Yao’s way of communication. It was always comprised of references to things from their high school days: riddles and poems, things that no one else would understand.

Yao quietly let himself into his apartment. He took off his shoes and hat, looking over to the sofa. He smiled, turning off the lights as he went to stand next to the sleeping figure.

“Hey, my little bird, you’ll catch a cold like that.” He said softly, leaning down to see if he could spot Mei’s closed eyes.

His smile grew all the more genuine when he saw how peacefully the other was sleeping. Without a sound, Yao draped a heavier blanket around Mei and then went behind the curtains to sleep on his futon after undressing.

This life they would share, the two broken-hearts, would be very interesting.