Trash Polka - 14. Chapter 14

It’d taken me a solid hour and half to get through all the paperwork I’d had to read and sign. Afterward, I’d been presented with a neat list of Kenji’s “hard” and “soft” limits. I got to pick my safe word, “Fungus” and learned his was “Ginger”. It all made sense. Of course, both parties needed to be able to stop any activity. It didn’t matter if Kenji was technically in a position of power. He could still be pushed too far, or maybe he’d think I was pushing myself too far. The latter sounded far too possible for my liking.

We were in a restaurant that served incredibly small, incredibly expensive food while we read each other’s lists. Some of the things on the list, I’d had to look up on the good ol' internet. There was no way I would’ve asked him. He’d sat quietly working on a laptop as I read and looked into things. The notary he’d brought along was a quiet man that curled into himself while he waited for us to finish. He hadn’t spoken much until the end and somewhere along the lines, I’d learned that Kenji’s brother was a lawyer and this man had been recommended by him. Why was I not surprised that his brother was a lawyer? It made sense.

My eyes scanned the list once more. I’d marked things I’d be open to try on my kink list and written in the margins. Occasionally, while he read my sheet, Kenji would shake his head and chuckle softly. After another half hour I set his list down. He’d already place mine neatly to the side and was tapping away at his phone.

“So…”

He slid his phone into his pocket and he gave me the entirety of his focus, “Yes?”

“We seem to overlap. Thank god you’re not into piss. I would’ve looked at you a little differently. Not to shame anyone but that does not, in fact, flic my bic. Actually any of functions of the body that would be carried out in a bathroom with a toilet. I don't want those involved in sex. It'd make me want to set myself on fire.”

“It’d be the only way to truly cleanse oneself.”

I paused, laughed, and stared at him, “Was that a joke?”

“It appears so.” He said with a severe expression. It made me pause. Oh no, he couldn't be hot, smart, and secretly hilarious. I'd never survive.

I shifted in my seat as I snickered to myself, “How did you want to go about, uh, scheduling time together?”

A strange look crossed his face and his fingers brushed over a scar just beneath his right eye, along his cheekbone. I tilted my head to the side as my eyes drifted over the rest of him, “This your casual look or is it the official ‘I have my lawyer draft official paperwork to get my rocks off’ look?”

The corners of his lips quirked up, “What about this isn’t casual?”

“The silk shirt? The dress slacks, the fucking loafers?”

“Language.”

“Mm, this mouth does what it wants unless occupied. Even then, it has a mind of its own.”

He sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a flash of ink, but it was too dark to make out. Damn fancy restaurants and their ambiance. I just wanted to check out this fine man, but they thought the room being a step above pitch black “set the mood”.

“For now.” He said, eyes dropping back to his menu after giving me a look that settled in my bones and made me want to squirm. How illegal was it to throw myself on this table and let the man dismantle me? Would that land me on a list?

“Do you know what you want?”

“Oh yeah.” I said with certainty.

He didn’t even raise his eyes from the menu as he scoffed quietly, “From the menu. Food. To eat. That is provided by this restaurant.”

I cackled, “Oh, he’s learning.”

He rolled his eyes and held his menu up slightly. A woman seemed to materialize next to the table and I let out an undignified squeak. Did being rich just summon other humans into your presence? Did a certain amount of wealth invite servants from the dark corners of the room? I wasn’t positive this woman had existed in our dimension before Kenji had called her. Was there magic in that menu? I flicked mine to the side, ignoring the two expectant gazes settled on me. There may be more. Who knew how many shadow people waited to be summoned from an alternate dimension.

Whilst I was attempting to hypothesize how the woman was able to defy the laws of physics, Kenji spoke to her in a different language. She asked something that sounded like a question and he answered quickly. With that, she gathered the menus-thwarting my testing of what I’d theorized was quantum teleportation-and left. I pouted and looked up at Kenji. There was amusement in his eyes.

“What?”

“What were you so focused on just now?”

“I was trying to figure out where she came from. She just appeared.” I said with annoyance, “I should think that was rather obvious.”

“Yes, the flicking the menu back and forth did make it rather clear now that I think about it.”

“Exactly!” He did one of his almost smiles and I was broken out of trying to solve the world’s mysterious with a menu in a fancy restaurant, “What language was that?”

“Mandarin.”

“What other languages do you speak?” I rested my cheek on my hand after balancing my elbow on the table.

“Tagalog, a couple different Chinese dialects, Japanese, English, and enough Russian to make business dealings easier.”

“Oh, so only a few. No big deal.” My eyes were too wide, “Jesus.”

“What?”

“How do you know so many?”

“I started very young. I have a gift for learning languages. I’m good at it.”

“Obviously. Save some talent for the rest of us.” I fixed my face and tried to remember that not everyone was raised in the Midwest. Some people had access to incredible education. I wasn’t sure that some of the people in my graduating class read above a fifth-grade level.

“You’ll have to dumb things down for me. I barely mastered English. Ya know, the language I've been learning since birth."

I could hear his phone vibrate and watched something in his jaw tighten as he fished it out. He frowned at the screen and looked like he was going to run his fingers through his hair. I watched his hand halt in mid-air and drop as the frown slipped of his face, “Give me one moment. I apologize.”

He stood and left through the door we’d come in. We were seated in a private section (of course we were) and I looked around the small dark room after he left. I sat on my hands as I started to fidget and looked at the papers that we’d left on the table. I was getting into something I’d never considered, but so far, I was relieved. Everything was very clearly set out. There was very little grey area and I liked that. Black and white was so much easier. I didn’t have to worry myself over all the other colors that might complicate things or at the very least make me overthink. The communication so far had been exquisite and had calmed some of the fears I’d had going into this.

I wasn’t powerless. There was indeed a power exchange, but it didn’t mean Kenji could do whatever he wanted and just throw me around. Unless, I had already consented to it explicitly obviously. I’d learned very quickly about several different ways to have sex that I hadn’t even known existed and looking between our lists, I had a spark of excitement. A lot of our limits and interests seemed to be the same or at least similar. I'd said as much.
Except something called “sounding” which I had to look up. No thank you. Hard limit on both the line for “giving” and “receiving”. Kenji was apparently fine inflicting that but no so much experiencing it. There were a couple others like that, but overall, even our kinks were compatible. One thing that had thrown me off, however, was kissing being under a hard limit for him. That explained the abrupt end to the kiss I’d initiated. Was it to keep emotion out of it?

I wanted to ask but didn’t know how this worked. Were we supposed to question the other’s hard limits or was that rude? It seemed like something that might be personal. I could understand why someone would want to leave it out of an arrangement like ours. It made even more sense when I admitted I was already far too drawn to the other man. Kissing might make everything worse. Self-control might be difficult already. I was still sad about it, though. His stupid face just looked like it needed to be kissed to derail his judgmental little faces sometimes.

While I waited, I slid his list to me, comparing them side by side at first. Then I looked over his handwriting. It was all sharp, quick-looking lines. I rolled my eyes. Everything about him clicked together. If he had long, looping, elegant script I think I’d be disturbed. My own handwriting was messier, and I had sprinkled drawn smiley faces here and there. As I looked, I noticed small slashes near some of the things on the page I’d filled out. As I looked back and forth, I realized he’d marked our interests that lined up perfectly.

Since he’d done the work in pointing them out, I went over them one-by-one. Choking, breath play, sensory deprivation, consensual nonconsent, Shibari, and so on. It was an extensive list and I wondered if I should delete my search history now or later. Luckily, I hadn’t stumbled onto any porn while we’d sat in the small room. It’d been someone’s office, but I hadn’t been paying attention. I’d stopped when I figured out it wasn’t Kenji’s. It hadn’t felt right. Cramped, dated, and small. For some reason, I was sure this weirdo worked in a high rise. Or hell, owned one. Either way, he’d been respectful, but he’d held his limbs tight to his body like he didn’t want to touch anything. His body language the entire time had been uncomfortable. Snob.

When we’d been driven to the restaurant-yes driven, he had a driver-he’d noticeably relaxed. I’d felt comfortable in neither space. The office was claustrophobic and this restaurant called me poor in every language Kenji knew. I glanced down at the lilac shirt I was wearing, it had sleeves but the shoulders were cut out, showing the ink I had there. My jeans had slits up the slid that were crisscrossed with white thread. They led down to my white lug boots.I had no idea what my hair looked like, but bright and pink were always fair guesses. For me, it was a pretty subtle look. Either way, I did not belong in this space. I stuck out like a pastel-coated thumb and I was having a hard time not shrinking in on myself.

The woman was back and I narrowed my eyes at her after I jumped as she placed plate after plate on the table. There were some bowls as well and soon the table was covered. I’d snatched the papers out of the way at the start just so I could feel like I was helping. She and another girl I only notice after I stopped gawking at the food both did what I had dubbed “tiny bows” before backing out of the room. I stared and then kept staring.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want and you were very focused on whatever you were doing with the menu, so I just got a bit of everything.” Kenji said as he slid fluidly into his seat.

“I see that.” I didn’t know where to start as he pulled chopsticks from a very fancy cloth wrap and started…chop sticking(?) food onto his plate.

“I don’t even know what most of this is. I’ve never had food like this.”

He motioned with his chopsticks, pointing at each item. I only caught a few before I got overwhelmed, “Bitter melon with bean sauce, braised Kurobuta pork belly, brisket with quail egg, cod with scallions and ginger. That’s white rice.”

“Oh, thank you. I was most concerned about that one.” I snarked as he brought some of the melon thing to his mouth.

I eyed said melon dubiously and moved things to my plate. My chopsticks were slower and much more clumsy. I stared the melon down and my small-town Iowa mind tried to insist that melon was sweet and couldn’t possibly go with bean sauce. What even was the bean sauce? It did look good. I guess. Refusing to give in to my upbringing, I dropped some of it inelegantly on my plate.

“It’s good.” He paused eating to point at the melon on my plate, “This place has a Michelin star. Nothing’s going to be bad.”

“That would explain the menu without prices.” I said as I tentatively took a bit of my new enemy, the melon. It was like nothing I’d ever tasted. Bright and fresh, while also rich and earthy. With-perhaps not surprisingly-a heavy bitter note. I didn’t know which flavors came from the beans or the melon. Or maybe there was another ingredient that wasn’t named. Either way, it’d been removed from my enemy list.

“Do you take everyone for Michelin star food after they tell you what they like in bed and you make them sign an NDA?”

“Only the very annoying ones.”

“What an honor.” I ate some of what I thought was pork belly and actually moaned, “Oh my god. The things I would do to eat here again. You need me to sign anymore NDAs?”

He chuckled and finished chewing before putting more food on my plate, “Dinner is not something I usually make a habit of in general.”

Looking down at my food, I pushed some rice on top of the pork belly, “Yes, I was kidding. I’m aware we’re not dating. With that being said, do we just meet up, do questionable things, and then go our separate ways once they’re over?”

“That is the idea, yes. Is that going to be an issue for you? I had thought you said you weren’t interested in a relationship.”

I scoffed, “I do not have time for one. Casual sex is about all I can manage.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. If we’re going to do this, we’ll have to plan in advance. My schedule is very tightly packed and rarely flexible.”

“My body is the exact opposite.”

Kenji ate quietly for a moment, stopping to look at me as if he wasn’t positive I was real. I’d told him repeatedly that my attitude was always the same. At least for him. I don’t know why he was so surprised every time I said something or twisted his words with innuendo. He should know it was coming at this point.

Sunday. Was that somehow sacrilegious? We were meeting up for our first scene on Sunday as the following Monday, he’d be whisked off to another foreign country. He didn’t know when he’d be back, or I wasn’t privy to that information. Either way, it was Sunday or I’d have to spend an unknown amount of time waiting. I was not a patient person.

It being Tuesday was already going to be a problem. How was I meant to go about my day-to-day business knowing that at the end of the week-the lord’s day no less-I was going to be tied up and railed within an inch of my life? (We hadn’t talked about specifics, but a boy could dream.)

I was sitting in my office chair and I let my eyes stray to the calendar on my wall. I hadn’t written specifics, simply blocked out the night after seven pm. Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked over all the colors on the thing. I really did have a craving for structure and at one point, Kenji had mentioned enjoying it as well. Reinforcing it. I didn’t fully know what to expect but I was hoping it’d give me a unique outlet. Despite all odds, I liked Kenji. We were obviously compatible and if he could exert enough control to make my mind settle, I didn’t see a downside.

The only thing that was making my stomach churn a little was how secretive I’d been. None of my friends knew what was going on. Alec didn’t know. I thought back to the night I’d met Kenji at Xi. It was just last Friday but it felt like ages ago. I thought back to how small Alec had looked huddled in his chair. How far he’d let himself and his surroundings go. I hadn’t heard much, but I hoped he’d figured out his medication and had managed to find some help. Being needed was nice. It was, but I was so tired. Of everything. I felt like I was Atlas and my shoulders were starting to ache and protest more than normal. If I didn’t figure something out, my whole world was going to collapse. There was no way for me to keep holding up the weight. Not by myself.

Leaning back in my chair, I sighed. That was a lot of hope to put on one very unique sexual arrangement. Even if it helped me, our meetings sounded like they would be sporadic at best, rare at the worst. This was going to turn out to be way too many eggs in one basket. I needed to find other solutions. If I wasn’t proactive and maybe a little aggressive, my mental health could deteriorate to the point where I wasn’t able to manage it alone. I’d like to avoid therapy and medication as much as possible, but I was starting to wonder what options I had realistically.

So, I did what I was best at. I turned on my computer and harnessed my obsessive concentration to help for once. After the first ten minutes, I started taking notes. Then a highlighter became necessary. I lost track of time. Which was expected. Only when my body started to protest my hunched over position and my alarm went off did I stop. Picking up my phone, I cursed quietly. I had work today.

I cringed as I thought of the looks I was sure to get from Lukas and Cameron. Setting my pen down, I pushed myself up, staggering a little. My muscles and body were too used to the position I’d frozen them in for hours and now moving sent jolts of pain through me. Delightful. I wobbled to my bathroom and cursed quietly. My eyebags had bags. Exhaustion had smeared the skin under my eyes with a sickly purple too. Great. There was only so much me and my limited knowledge of concealer could contend with.

Suppose I didn’t have much of a choice.