As we reach the top and enjoy the maple tree, its cascading leaves, and energy, Harry holds me from behind.
It is likely naughty, but I give zero fucks. It is not a religious site. It is simply old. Harry buries his face in my hair and mumbles something. His big hands wrap around me, and I feel wanted, loved, and safe.
“Thanks for last night, and sorry for not being the perfect guy.”
“Yet,” I say.
“Yet,” Harry says, still against my neck.
I turn, and we place our arms around each other.
There is still no one about, and the mist sits in pockets all around us. It is just us and the world.
Harry holds my chin. We finally have space to ourselves. All the space in the world.
“So, what are we going to do?”
“When we get back?” I ask.
Harry nods as he kisses my knuckles.
I shake my head, unsure. “I have no idea. You?”
Harry laughs low as we hold each other. Pulling each other closer, we stand in the rising sun alone. Alone, and as if we don’t want to let go,ever.
I close my eyes, thinking about how I feel. I know it’s fast, but it feels real and amazing. I feel a tear form and hold my man close. As I open my eyes, I see executives coming up the hill through the morning mist. Some have noticed us, and I recognize others.
I talk low, “Harry.”
We step back, and I wipe a wet eye. As we pull away, I tilt-bow my head to the two serious, older men in grey hair. Harry does the same, and then we walk away slowly through the trees.
We could have taken a path that would meet them, but instead we take a longer path, a more private one. It is time for us,and if the deal does not happen, so be it.
Harry is relaxedthe rest of the day, and he is like a new man. He is playful, and we laugh. We also have fun between him having to be serious with the executives.
Harry is dressed more casually today, wearing a black polo with tan chinos. It is unlike him, and he is almost normal-looking.The Japanese are still dressed in black suits, and who knows if we crossed a cultural line.
Supposedly, you should ask if you can even remove a jacket when with them, that being the respectful way to interact.
The Japanese execs cancel a long drive up country in a convoy, and we are driven to a fancy driving range on the outskirts of Tokyo. Whisky and Sapporo beer are served, and we all hit golf balls.
I am embarrassingly bad, but Harry is good, even if he has clearly let the deal go.
His defenses are down too, and he is fun to be around. He is not just some overly gorgeous hunk or sex God.
Neither some control freak with a stick up his controlling, hot butt. We laugh, we hold hands, we flirt, and we let go. I am not even coaching him now, and Harry… Harry is becoming a relationship natural.
He either learns ultra-fast, or we, us, flow.
Some of the Japanese executives loosen up as they drink and play golf. They even remove their jackets, which is a big thing.
We figure with the deal gone, they are just having fun, and why not. We gave it our best, and we lost.Harry says he still has a little money in the bank to keep food on the table, and I laugh.
As we playon and Harry teaches me to finally hit the ball with style, the wise old executive fixer walks down from the end.
He has been playing seriously, like the rest of the Japanese, and he has not been drinking.
As he stops to update us and bridge communications, he lights one of his weird skinny Japanese cigarettes.
