when tsuji called him into his office, nobuyuki assumed that this was purely on business. he was going to be given another sad, closeted gay man to fuck & he had to do it whether he wanted to or not – because it was his job. he couldn’t be entirely ungrateful for what he had, considering that he couldn’t see himself doing anything else … but it was so hard to work around as tsuji’s whore, when that title was hardly working the way that he wanted it to. he was lucky enough to be called the man’s favorite, but he wasn’t lucky enough to be his personal whore. he wasn’t expecting to have such an easy life where his only work was for the man that he liked … but he did have the funds to do so – to put it blunt, tsuji made a fuck ton of money. enough that he could easily pay for mizuta’s bills, while the other still did his work – just in a much different way. he’d jokingly mentioned the idea to his boss a few times, but the blonde was often laughed off. as long as he didn’t get upset like he was actually serious about the idea, then hopefully the other wouldn’t realize how much it hurt his feelings to not be considered.
it was beyond mizuta to knock before entering the office, instead he opened the door as if he owned the place. it wasn’t like tsuji would care – he was expecting the blonde in the chair across from him almost ten minutes ago, so it would hopefully make up for some lost time. curling up in the big leather chair opposite of the man’s desk, he searched the other’s face for some sort of explanation as to why he would have been brought in.
“it’s for a job, isn’t it?” of course, he was expecting the man to give him details & a time, with a threat that he had to actually show up or else he was getting kicked to the curb.
As the other entered and made himself at home (quite literally) and took a seat in the leather chair, he tended his head slightly to the side, pondering if Mizuta had any idea -- the boy was hardly intelligent enough to catch up like that, or so the lanky male thought. But perhaps he was underestimating that man’s brain power. Either way, he seemed bemused about Tsuji’s question and thus causing him to chuckle airily, standing up from his own leather chair as he gestured lamely with his hand, moving over to walk to the window that was behind his own chair, looking out to the night. “Job.” Akihisa repeated; that’s all it is to the guy -- a job. A duty, a task. For Tsuji, however, this was a life’s work. He had to put his blood, sweat and passion into it in order for his boss to acknowledge and admire him so much that he was no longer a little tag-along who had to do what he was told to -- now he was someone with a leading position, a force to be reckoned with... and yet that black-haired wimp was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, trying to make it comfortable for himself ---- what a pest.
“Is this what you think it all is to you -- a job?” Turning around to look at the smaller, his eyes narrowed a little, though trying not to yell; he was not Arakita after all, he had to keep his posture, his composure, he had to look like a proper businessman, not like some kind of hitman... “To be frank: no, I did not call you for another job. And that’s the problem we have to face, Mizuta.” Referring to the other by his family name, he wanted to mark the seriousness of the situation, approaching the smaller as he leaned over him, grabbing the man by his shoulder and pressing him into the leather chair violently, digging his fingers into his skin as he shook him.
“I am losing money because everyone else has to pull you along with your slacking attitude!!! I am no longer accepting this behaviour!!! You keep talking about how you’re ‘Daddy’s favourite’ but that has long been surpassed!! Don’t you see it?! You have the position to make the most money -- the only guy I provide!!! While the girls have to fight for every customer and have to practically beg to have someone mount them, you do not have the competition they have! And yet, you are not carrying it at all...! You used to give me the most income and now look at you, LOOK AT YOU!” In the end, he did raise his voice, pushing the man harshly into the seat before he stood up and gained some distance between them, not wanting to get physical to the point that he’d actually slap him ---- it was infuriating. “I am covering for your ass to my boss, and he really has not the nerve to keep you around and make me look bad. It’s either me or you. And he’d much rather keep me than you, clearly. Do you really think I’m going to let you get away with that wanna-be-cute act of yours, so I’ll cover for you? You are in the wrong business then, honey. There is no mercy in the Yakuza and you should’ve known that beforehand...”
As much as he wanted to cool down, he was just still so mad at the other, he didn’t know how else to handle it than to actually speak his mind. “This is not a job if you’re doing it for the Yakuza. It’s a life’s work. You are in it with your blood and soul. You sold yourself to the devil, so stop slacking off, you heard me? I asked if you heard me!”
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