"The Lower Decks", Chapter One
Title: The Lower Decks
Chapter: 1/??
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): none
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sexual humor
Summary: There's jobs in unfortunate places, jobs with unfortunate people, and jobs that are just plain unfortunate: then there is the Floating Sakura, which seems to be all of the above.
“Nino…”
“Be quiet, would you?”
“Nino!” He was whispering more insistently this time.
“I’m right next to you, jackass. Be quiet before…”
The leader walked over, glaring. “You’re noisy. Koki, get him out of here.”
Nino felt an odd twisting in his gut as the one seemingly named after Coca-Cola hauled Aiba to his feet. It was pretty obvious that this wasn’t going to end well.
“Please,” Aiba was begging, his Masaki nametag with the smiley face sticker falling to the deck, clattering to where Nino was still on his knees with his hands behind his head. He could almost feel the others’ eyes on him. Won’t you do something, Nino? Won’t you put your own life at risk to save him?
“I’m telling you,” Aiba said, “if you’re here for Sadie, we can’t help you!”
“Masaki, they’re not here for…”
“You shut up already,” the leader said, pointing his pistol at him. The guy was getting antsy - had the other two he’d sent off already overthrown Captain Kimura and the rest of the crew?
All this time, Nino had been worried about simple things like losing his job - with the way Koki was hauling Aiba to the edge of the lido deck, maybe he ought to worry about the increasingly likely possibility that he might die today.
“Nino, do something,” Jun hissed.
But what? There were only five of them - scratch that, four (Satoshi was somehow snoozing through the mayhem). He’d seen six of them and who knew how many more were robbing staterooms throughout the ship at that very moment.
“We don’t have Sadie!” Aiba cried. “Don’t make me walk the plank!”
There’s no plank here, you idiot, Nino thought, desperate to find some solution here. But there were tears in Aiba’s eyes, and it really was a long way down from the lido deck to the water and the thought of Masaki being gone…
Well, maybe it was enough to make Kazunari Ninomiya do something incredibly stupid.
In spite of the lead pirate’s pistol in his face, Nino got to his feet and held out his fists. The Floating Sakura was his home, and they weren’t going to take it without a fight.
“Sit down or you’ll join your friend.” The pirate gave a signal to Koki, who hoisted Aiba in the air until he was hanging over the side.
Nino just kept up his fists, tilting his head to hear the satisfying pops in his neck as he stared the pirate down.
“Get off our boat.”
--
TWELVE DAYS EARLIER
--
Miami.
Nino didn’t really care for Miami. It was humid, for one thing, and he didn’t much enjoy being out of a climate controlled environment for very long. People liked Miami for the great clubbing opportunities - Nino didn’t care much for that. People liked Miami for the food, the Cuban and other Latino influences - Nino didn’t like sandwiches with enough meat to feed a family of four for a week.
And people liked Miami because it was the main departure port for Sunshine Caribbean Cruise Line (amongst others) - Nino especially disliked Miami for that.
He was picking up some snacks at the local 7-11 since they would only be hitting ports with overpriced crap for the next two weeks. There was no way he was spending eight dollars for a candy bar in Cozumel, if he had a chance to get off at Cozumel to begin with. The staff dining hall left a lot to be desired on board so at least he’d have something.
Nino brought his basket up to the counter, noticing his co-worker still hovering in disbelief by the Slurpee machine.
“Sakurai, passengers board in four hours. Just pick a damn Slurpee.”
Sho looked over with a frown. “How do they get the Pow Pow Mega Cherry to taste so real though?”
Nino handed money to the cashier. “Lots and lot of fake additives and chemicals and shit. There is nothing natural in there, so can we move on please?”
Sho stuck his tongue out at him before grabbing a smaller Slurpee cup than his usual and filling it with sugary faux cherry goodness. Nino waited impatiently as Sakurai stocked up on his snacks.
“You’re lucky you don’t room with Matsumoto,” Nino told Sho as they started walking back to the docking area. “He could tell you calorie count, carbs, fat content, cholesterol blah blah for every candy bar you just bought.”
He ignored the skittish way Sho started to walk at mention of Matsumoto. It wasn’t that Jun was a bad person to share quarters with - he was just a little too high-strung for Nino’s liking. Then again, he’d never met anyone who could put away low-carb, organic, all-natural cardboard tasting granola bars like Jun either, so that was sort of intriguing.
“Some of the candy is for Masaki, too,” Sho said. Nino didn’t know Sho’s roommate too well yet - he’d only been contracted for two months so far, but the other three and Satoshi Ohno from the Kyoto Lounge on the Midori deck had contracted with Sunshine three or four times now.
As they turned the corner, Nino sighed at the stark white ship with colorful flags moored in the harbor. The Floating Sakura was the top ship in Sunshine Caribbean’s line - not the fastest (that was the Mindanao Magic) and not the newest (Singapore Sunrise) - but it was the most respected and most luxurious, and Nino was probably lucky to be assigned to her for his first contract.
But he hadn’t wanted to do the Caribbean routes in the first place. He’d wanted to see the world, do a little traveling. Without breaking the bank of course. Working for a cruise line gave him free room and board, he could save the money he earned and enjoy his free time in different ports of call. On Sunshine’s job page, he’d requested placement with the Sunshine Mediterranean fleet, the Sunshine Baltic fleet, even the Sunshine Alaska fleet.
Yet here he was in month two of six, baking in the Miami sun just before another 14 day Mega Caribbean Tour. He couldn’t wait to get back to his snug, but air-conditioned cabin he shared with Jun.
Of course, things never went in Nino’s favor. Before he and his bag of snacks could even reach the lower decks and staff cabins, Nishikido was already tugging on his arm and panicking.
“Nino, you need to get in uniform right now,” Ryo was screeching. Sho saw that this wasn’t going to go well - he waved and headed off for his own cabin, still working on his Slurpee.
He sighed. “What is it? Nobody’s boarding for over three hours.”
“It’s Tegoshi,” Ryo said ominously. Now Nino was paying attention. Tegoshi was the cabin attendant Nino was job shadowing until he was cleared to work on his own.
“The hell did he do?”
Ryo just tugged Nino, snacks and all, down the corridor, seemingly to the elevator and the infirmary on the Kiiroi deck.
“Ryo, will you tell me what’s going on?”
Nishikido looked grave when the elevator doors closed. “Yuya has the clap.”
--
“Masaki, I’m not yelling. You don’t need to cry.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kusanagi, I’m so very sorry,” Aiba cried anyway.
The purser pursed his lips, frowning at his employee. “All I’m saying is to watch yourself when you type in details about our guests’ belongings. You’re not getting fired!”
Aiba’s tears slowed a bit. So initially he’d been crying because Kusanagi was going to tear him a new one. His mistyping in the computer had ended up with a guest taking home over $30,000 that had definitely not belonged to her. He’d typed in ‘Mary Thomas’ instead of ‘Mary Thompson’ when the woman had deposited her casino earnings in their office.
How was he to know there’d actually be a Mary Thomas on board the Floating Sakura - and a willing thief at that! He couldn’t be a perfect employee like Sho. Sho never made typing mistakes. Sho never misplaced someone’s extremely rare foreign currency. Sho never deleted the entire purser’s office database by accident.
Aiba supposed Kusanagi didn’t get him reassigned to a different part of the ship solely because Aiba was so friendly. And being friendly got the purser’s office high marks on the “How was your trip?” comment card. Sometimes Aiba had even been singled out for praise. It embarrassed him on the outside but pleased him on the inside.
He loved working on the Floating Sakura. He loved meeting new people all the time and though it was always sad to see them go, the next week would be a whole new slew of passengers who could come into the purser’s office. Making friends and sharing life experiences was really what working on a cruise ship was all about.
Not that many of his co-workers agreed with him. Most were just in it for the money they could save or the potential for hook-ups in the staff quarters or the rare but blessed chance to get off the boat and relax on a white sand beach. And unlike Masaki, they didn’t like that they had to smile and be positive every time they were out of their cabins in case guests were around.
“Thank you, Mr. Kusanagi. It won’t happen again, sir.”
His boss just rolled his eyes, scanning the guest manifest on the computer. “Where’s Sakurai? We’ve got that VIP staying on the Aoi Deck.”
Well, Sho was probably still at 7-11 and hopefully getting Masaki a good stash of mini Snickers bars. “Who’s the VIP? I’d be happy to…”
Kusanagi stared at him. “I think not. Do you know what VIP means, Masaki? It means very important person…”
“But Sunshine’s policy is that every guest is a VIP,” Aiba pointed out.
“Don’t quote policy at me. That’s just a line to make middle-aged couples from Nebraska think they’re special.”
Aiba wasn’t as jaded about the cruise industry as his boss seemed to be. “I promise I’ll take very good care of whatever he brings here. Please, give me a chance to prove myself?”
Kusanagi was still clicking through the passenger manifest. “He’s a rock star, and his manager has very specific requests.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure his things are safe.”
He gave Kusanagi his most hopeful stare, eyes glistening, hands clasped, Masaki nametag gleaming under the purser’s office’s fluorescent lighting.
“Fine. You’ll coordinate with his cabin attendant. He’s on Aoi Deck, suite 3.” He clicked the mouse again. “Yuya Tegoshi. Go.”
Aiba waited until he was in the corridor before doing a happy dance of joy. He’d earn Kusanagi’s trust - his first VIP. Sho would be so jealous.
--
“Shun, stop half-assing the tablecloths. They should be crisper than a new hundred dollar bill,” Jun complained as he laid down place settings.
“I’m not half-assing!” Shun grumbled from the next table over.
Jun frowned, rearranging the forks all over again. It had to be perfect - the Welcome Aboard dinner in the Paradise Dining Room was the guests’ first meal and if they wanted to kick the Holiday Buffet room’s seating this trip then Shun had to step it up.
Holiday Buffet drew the families and the chubby couples, but Paradise got the girlfriends on a ladies’ vacation, the businessmen, the wealthier ones. Sure, Jun may have just been a busboy, but he was in Paradise for this contract, and he’d get in the kitchen next time. He had to.
Of course, cleaning up plates of filet mignon and lobster was not what Jun had envisioned when he signed on. It would have been easier to stay home and work in a regular restaurant. He’d probably move up the ladder faster. But Sunshine Caribbean offered him the chance to work with chefs from around the world, in styles collected from all corners of the earth. This was what Jun wanted- what he craved.
This was his dream job.
Just not... busboy duties, per se.
"Seriously, can you hurry up?" Jun asked, moving to the next table as Shun was only starting on the second half of his.
Shun looked annoyed when he glanced up across gold-rimmed goblets. "Not all of us can be you, Jun."
"And rightly so," Jun sing-songed. He carefully placed the shell-shaped napkin ring around the folds and set it gently in the middle of the plate. He was so engrossed in making sure all the fork twines were perpendicular to the bottom of the table that he missed Shun moving up behind him with quiet footsteps.
"Hey," Shun whispered, low and very near Jun's ear, which made Jun jump and startle. "Have you heard?"
"About how creepy you are?" Jun grumbled, tugging at his ear- dammit, that had tickled.
Shun took a glance around the Paradise Dining Room, and then motioned for Jun to lean forward. "We have a rock star with us for the next two weeks."
Just what they needed- someone with their holier than thou attitude telling Jun that the water in their glass was not cold enough for their expensive tastes. He glowered down at the place settings like they were somehow behind this turn of events.
"I hope it's a hot chick," Shun said, a blissful expression on his face.
"Stop imagining yourself on the lido deck with Cindy Crawford," Jun told him, and went back to arranging the tables. "She'd never stoop to your level."
Shun made some grumbles under his breath, but went back to his own assignment, and Jun spent the rest of the time imagining what he was going to serve when he started his own restaurant, and what font he would put the menus in.
--
Ohno had to admit, he was confused when the first man in a black suit and sunglasses came into the main lobby where his bar was located (guests often wore their sunglasses all the way through the Floating Sakura just because they were on vacation, but rarely did he get anyone in a three-piece suit before embarkation).
He was more confused when the second one came in and began talking into the watch on his wrist, checking the corners of the room for suspicious objects. By the time the rest of them had filtered in through the stairwells, there were four suit-clad men checking out various things around the room- one was doing a sweep of the backside of the curtains near the Grand piano.
"Are you staying in the suites?" he asked one with spiked hair that came over to sniff at the open bottle of vodka Ohno was re-capping. They looked like they would be good tippers.
The one nearest to him, leaning over the bar, pulled out a walkie-talkie that still had some pink Hello Kitty stickers attached to it. Ohno wondered why he needed it with the ear bud visible in his left ear.
"The coast is clear. Jolly Green can come aboard."
Ohno peered in closer to the clip on Ear bud’s lapel- it said Hey Say Security LLC in gold, beveled letters, and below that Agent Chinen in slightly larger font.
"So you guys are security guards?" Ohno asked. They didn't look very old. They also didn't look like they could actually stop him if he decided to rush the object in question, but he didn't really think that was good to mention, on the off-chance that they actually were carrying weapons. It might discourage them from buying drinks (if they were even old enough).
The others lined up near the aft stairwell and there were loud tromping boot noises on the tiles. Ohno waited, drying off the last of the red wine glasses, until a man wearing a leopard coat and dark sunglasses stepped into the main lobby. He was taller than all of the security guards- towering at least a couple of inches, if not more, over all of them. He did a perfunctory glance of the area, and then spotted Ohno, advancing immediately to the seashell-lined bar counter and slapping one hand down.
"I'd like one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer," the man said.
"Really?" Ohno asked. It was kind of a weird request. It was also 2 PM, and the ship hadn't even taken off from Miami yet. The man began laughing in loud, rigorous guffaws, smacking his palm against the bar a few times.
Then he stopped, and looked at Ohno a bit awkwardly. "But seriously."
"Oh," Ohno said, and started to pull out glasses to complete the order. The man stood twiddling his fingers against the counter, and Agent Chinen approached him. The security detail still hadn't taken off their sunglasses. Ohno wondered how they could really see anything.
They spoke in hushed tones until Ohno had the three drinks completed, and then the man in the fancy coat reached forward to slam all three down. He seemed to have forgotten that he ordered a beer, because he had to stall and everyone just sort of waited while he drank the whole thing down. A minute or two later, the bottom rim of the bottle hit the counter and the man made a pleased sounding noise.
"So," Ohno started, "I guess you are kind of a big deal."
"That is an understatement, my boy," the man said gravely. "I'm a rock star."
He took the sunglasses off and Ohno looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out if he recognized him from anywhere. He didn't.
He was pretty sure he shouldn't say this, however.
"Tomoya Nagase," the man said, reaching a hand out. Ohno shook it gingerly.
"Are your guards accompanying you on the cruise?"
Nagase waved a hand at them. "Naw. Can't afford 'em. Just here before take off."
Ohno refrained from explaining that "taking off" was for planes. Instead, he reached for the empty glasses and began rinsing them off in the sink as Nagase sat back and apparently took in the sights. The Floating Sakura's lobby was nice; the vaulted ceiling had colored glass in it, everything was decorated in varying shades of blue, and even the railings of the stairwells were lined with sea shell fragments.
It wasn't the Kyoto Lounge, which Ohno was perhaps overly partial to since it was his usual assignment, but the lobby was a grand way of greeting guests to their Sunshine Caribbean experience.
"Do you like classic rock?" Nagase asked him.
Ohno blinked in surprise at the man. "I don't know. I don't really listen to much other than the music in the lounge."
Nagase did some very elaborate shifting in his chair, face contorted into what Ohno could only assume was an expression of severe disdain. "Well. Might have to change that, then."
"Okay," Ohno said easily, shrugging.
"Anyway," Nagase sighed, standing once more, "my detail tells me this place is clean."
"What did you think was going to be here?" Ohno asked.
Nagase just sort of looked at him, and didn't really answer. "Guess I'll be on my way to my cabin, then."
He left, security detail in tow (all shorter than him, and looking a bit like ducklings following their mother), and it was only when Ohno reached for the empty beer glass that he realized Nagase had failed to tip him.
He let out a long-suffering sigh, and resigned himself to a trying next two weeks.
--
There were moans coming from inside the infirmary bathroom.
Not the good kind of moans; though, to be fair, Nino didn't really think any kind of moans were good when he was the one forced to get the passengers what they requested, be it condoms or otherwise, but that was beside the point. The point was that the sounds coming from inside were definitely not pleasurable, and were making Nino more than a little uncomfortable. Across from him, Ryo was standing with his arms crossed, staring down at his shoes.
Nino met Ryo's gaze and then the noises within raised an octave, and Nino found the ceiling tiles more interesting to look at.
The pained sounds stopped. Ryo opened his mouth like he was going to say something, and then they started up again, with more volume than before.
"Oh, for the love of god," Nino hissed. "My genitals are going to retract up into my body if I have to listen to much more of this."
Ryo coughed primly and rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door. "Yuya? Are you almost done?"
There was a muffled sounding whimper, and then the flush of the toilet. A few seconds later, the door opened and Nino's mentor came out, white-faced and clammy looking.
"It burns when I pee," Tegoshi said.
"Okay," Nino said cheerily, turning on his heel. "I'm leaving now."
He got halfway to the door before Ryo caught his arm, forcing his feet to stop moving. "Wait, wait! He has to go ashore for treatment, and besides, we can't keep him here right now. It's bad for our publicity."
"Why?" Nino asked, eyeing Tegoshi warily. "Who did he sleep with?"
"218. Shiroi deck," Tegoshi replied. He sounded very glum.
Nino stared at the other man for a very long moment, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to punch Tegoshi in the face.
"So, what are you saying?" Nino demanded. "You're leaving? You haven't finished training me yet!"
"Well, you're the only one with any training," Ryo said. "And our VIP is coming onboard today, and you're... well, you're going to have to take the assignment. It might take some delicate handling."
Nino's stomach contracted slightly, leaving him vaguely breathless. "Are you serious?"
"Look, it's just for a little while," Ryo continued. He was shifty-eyed, and refused to meet Nino's gaze, finding instead his shoelaces terribly interesting. "Just for the next two weeks. If it goes badly, then we'll just pull one of the stewards who originally came in as a cabin attendant until we can get the roster put back together again."
"Delicate handling?" Nino all but screeched.
Tegoshi sat down gingerly on the cot, looking like movement of any kind pained him. "It's not that hard, really. You just have to keep him especially happy so that he comes back."
"And tells all his friends," Ryo added.
Nino tried to hide behind his hands, but it was a lost cause. His next two weeks were suddenly looking very, very difficult.
"Fine," he ground out. "But next time you are in the middle of training someone, try to time your sexual escapades so that this doesn't happen again."
Tegoshi made a strangled sounding moaning noise. "Don't talk about sex, please. My junk hurts."
"Yeah, I'm so done here," Nino said.
"His name is Tomoya Nagase!" Ryo called at Nino's retreating form. "The paperwork is in the attendant's office with your name on a sticky note! You can't miss it!"
"Probably can!" Nino replied, and let the door slam shut behind him.
--
Sho smiled at the people starting to file in onto the ship wearing Jimmy Buffet shirts and Tommy Bahama sandals, keeping the grin on his face and waving at a few of the kids who ran past with inflatable tubes already around their waists. "Hello and welcome aboard the Floating Sakura. Please don't hesitate to contact the purser's office should you require any of our services."
An older woman with hair that looked vaguely blue stopped in front of him. "Excuse me, excuse me, where is this boat going?"
"Ma'am, you purchased the cruise, the itinerary has always been public."
The lady seemed to ignore this completely. "But, is it going to the Caribbean?"
"Ma'am, this is the Sunshine Caribbean Cruise Line."
He got an annoyed hand waving in his face and the woman moved on, leaving him to wonder what it was that he had done in a former life that was so terrible. There were footsteps behind him, and then a tap on the shoulder, and he bit back his retort about the ship going to Alaska as he turned.
He found himself face to face with Aiba instead of the confused old woman.
"Are you here to relieve me?" he asked, chest swelling with hope.
"No," Aiba said, "but guess what! There's going to be a VIP on the ship, and Mr. Kusanagi assigned him to me!"
Sho's heart sank further down towards his stomach. "Wait, what? Why you?"
"He obviously just has faith in my people handling skills," Aiba said proudly, which really meant that he'd begged and pleaded his way onto the assignment. Sho opened his mouth to complain and suddenly found himself with a face full of Louis Vuitton leopard print luggage. He fell backwards with a startled cry and a pang of pain shooting down his nose.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the young woman cried. "Are you hurt?"
Sho waved her off, even as Aiba's fingers were curling around his arm and attempting to haul him back up to his feet. "No, no, it's fine, I'm on local anesthesia. Carry on."
When he pulled his hand away from his face, there was blood on his palm.
"Ouch," Aiba winced sympathetically. "Do you want me to get you a kleenex?"
"This is so not a very good start to the cruise," Sho said, a bit pathetically (he sincerely hoped that Aiba wouldn't tell anyone else about this little incident). "I can't believe you got the VIP."
Aiba pulled out a crumpled napkin from his pocket and started dabbing at Sho's nose. A group of twenty-something girls came up wearing crowns and sashes that said "Bachelorette Party! Judi's Getting Hitched!" on them, and one of them stopped near where Sho was leaning somewhat heavily against the metal doorway, holding out a small packet.
"Here," she said, rhinestones on her sunglasses sparkling in the sun's rays. "It'll help."
"Oh, no," Sho started, because he did have some dignity left, even if it was very small and buried very, very deep, but Aiba reached happily for the offered tampon with a bright smile.
"Thank you so much!" he exclaimed, and then promptly unwrapped it and jammed it up Sho's nostril. Then he just looked expectantly at Sho like he figured he was going to get praise, or at least thanks, and Sho tried to find the nearest hole that he could hide himself in for the duration of the cruise.
"Dis is nod sdarding well," he moaned, head in his hands.
Aiba gave him a quick pat to the shoulder. "Well, I'm going to go and check to see if my VIP needs anything! Try not to get hit with anymore bags, and don't leave that in for more than 6-8 hours."
Sho refrained from tripping him as Aiba made his way back inside the deck to the stairwell.
--
If Nino had more than say, a Port-a-Potty’s amount of room to himself on board the Floating Sakura, he would have brought his guitar. Nino liked music. He liked playing songs he enjoyed from memory or making his own songs up. Working on a cruise ship didn’t give him much time for his hobbies. Jun was very particular about his sleep regimen anyhow, so it’s not like Nino could have just brought out the guitar randomly.
In his years as a self-taught musician, Nino could say with certainty that he had never once attempted to teach himself a Tomoya Nagase song. It’s not like they were hard - same chord same chord same chord, et cetera. Song topics like drinking beer, getting laid, and getting laid after drinking beer. And the occasional American flag waving patriotic song for a truck commercial.
It just wasn’t Nino’s style. Unlike most of the music listeners in the country, Nino had taste.
Of course, the country hadn’t heard from Tomoya Nagase in some time. At least Nino hadn’t - not that he paid much attention to the guy’s career. A few years back when Nino had just dropped out of college and spent most of his days on the couch, he remembered one of those celebrity gossip shows doing a “Where are they now?” segment on Nagase. He hadn’t released an album in a while, and his last live show had been at the Omaha Small Business Association’s annual barbecue. He’d shown up high on ecstasy.
But here he was, still able to afford the best suite on the ship while Nino would spend the next two weeks catering to the guy’s every sure-to-be-perverse rock star need. Damn that Tegoshi. Nino hoped the guy would stick with his hand for a while. He went over the clipboard that the head steward had put together - special requests from the guest.
No waking up before 11 AM unless there were Belgian waffles. Rose petals from the bed to the toilet (not the bathroom, but specifically the toilet bowl). No fewer than fifteen Almond Joy bars on the bedside table at all times. Gideon’s Bible replaced with the most recent Hustler.
Nino looked at the last request and frowned.
Bedtime story for Mr. Nagase, 1:30 AM (materials will be provided by Mr. Nagase).
He hadn’t even met the guy yet, and he already wanted to throw Nagase off the boat. Or throw himself off the boat. But breaking his contract would adversely affect his finances, and it wasn’t like he had many promising job offers on land anyway. It was just two weeks - he’d deal with it. It just would have been easier if Tegoshi was reading bedtime stories at 1:30 in the morning when Nino preferred to be asleep.
Well, better get the introductions out of the way. He tucked the clipboard under his arm and checked his hair in the mirrored glass of the elevator before the doors dinged open. The plush carpeting of the Aoi Deck cushioned his walk of disappointment as he headed for Nagase’s suite.
There were other wealthy types complaining about the other attendants bringing in their fancy luggage. Nino was pretty thin and quick on his feet, and he was able to smoothly duck in between guests and attendants and...wait, why did that couple need their own personal treadmill for a two week cruise? He put on his friendly smile anyway, nodding politely as he continued to the door at the end of the corridor.
He could hear the bathtub filling as he knocked. They hadn’t even left the dock yet, and the guy was taking a bath? “Mr. Nagase, this is Kazunari Ninomiya, your Sunshine attendant for the voyage. Just wanted to introduce myself.”
Nino distinctly heard a woman’s voice and a splash.
He knocked one more time. “Mr. Nagase? If there’s anything you need to make your departure go more smoothly, I’m here to help. Just wanted to let you know that dinner in the Paradise Dining Room starts at 6:00 following the mandatory lifeboat...”
The door opened.
“...and other safety drills so if you could make your way up to the oh my god, you’re naked.”
The man had to be about half a foot taller than Nino, possibly more, naked as the day he was born. Though Nino supposed he hadn’t been so well...established when he was a baby.
“I...if this is a bad time, sir...”
Nagase slapped a heavy hand on Nino’s shoulder, possibly dislocating something. The rocker squinted at his nametag. “Hey Kazunono, not a bad time, good to see ya!”
Nino looked down. It clearly said ‘Kazunari’ but it wasn’t the easiest name, was it? Don’t look at his dick, he told himself mentally. Don’t look at his dick. Don’t look at his dick. Don’t look at his...
“Like what you see? You know how many girls have played hide the pickle in your mouth with me?”
“I couldn’t venture a...”
“Hell, I lost count once I hit a thousand, haha,” Nagase pulled him into the room by his attendant’s vest. “Could you do something about the broad in the tub?”
“I’m sorry?”
Nagase pulled him aside near the stateroom’s fancy oaken armoire. The guy needed to put some clothes on. Five minutes ago. “Look, I met this chick down when I was checking in, and she totally wanted to get on board my battleship.”
“Okay.”
“But you know, she won’t leave. So since you’re my attendant,” he said, flicking his finger against Nino’s nametag, “maybe you know all the tricks to getting her back to her own place?”
Nino heard more splashing. “Tomoya! Bring that submarine back to my deep water!”
Nagase clasped his hands together and smiled big. “Please, bro? You gotta help me out.”
Okay. Nino was sure of it.
He no longer wanted to live.
Chapter: 1/??
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): none
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sexual humor
Summary: There's jobs in unfortunate places, jobs with unfortunate people, and jobs that are just plain unfortunate: then there is the Floating Sakura, which seems to be all of the above.
“Nino…”
“Be quiet, would you?”
“Nino!” He was whispering more insistently this time.
“I’m right next to you, jackass. Be quiet before…”
The leader walked over, glaring. “You’re noisy. Koki, get him out of here.”
Nino felt an odd twisting in his gut as the one seemingly named after Coca-Cola hauled Aiba to his feet. It was pretty obvious that this wasn’t going to end well.
“Please,” Aiba was begging, his Masaki nametag with the smiley face sticker falling to the deck, clattering to where Nino was still on his knees with his hands behind his head. He could almost feel the others’ eyes on him. Won’t you do something, Nino? Won’t you put your own life at risk to save him?
“I’m telling you,” Aiba said, “if you’re here for Sadie, we can’t help you!”
“Masaki, they’re not here for…”
“You shut up already,” the leader said, pointing his pistol at him. The guy was getting antsy - had the other two he’d sent off already overthrown Captain Kimura and the rest of the crew?
All this time, Nino had been worried about simple things like losing his job - with the way Koki was hauling Aiba to the edge of the lido deck, maybe he ought to worry about the increasingly likely possibility that he might die today.
“Nino, do something,” Jun hissed.
But what? There were only five of them - scratch that, four (Satoshi was somehow snoozing through the mayhem). He’d seen six of them and who knew how many more were robbing staterooms throughout the ship at that very moment.
“We don’t have Sadie!” Aiba cried. “Don’t make me walk the plank!”
There’s no plank here, you idiot, Nino thought, desperate to find some solution here. But there were tears in Aiba’s eyes, and it really was a long way down from the lido deck to the water and the thought of Masaki being gone…
Well, maybe it was enough to make Kazunari Ninomiya do something incredibly stupid.
In spite of the lead pirate’s pistol in his face, Nino got to his feet and held out his fists. The Floating Sakura was his home, and they weren’t going to take it without a fight.
“Sit down or you’ll join your friend.” The pirate gave a signal to Koki, who hoisted Aiba in the air until he was hanging over the side.
Nino just kept up his fists, tilting his head to hear the satisfying pops in his neck as he stared the pirate down.
“Get off our boat.”
--
TWELVE DAYS EARLIER
--
Miami.
Nino didn’t really care for Miami. It was humid, for one thing, and he didn’t much enjoy being out of a climate controlled environment for very long. People liked Miami for the great clubbing opportunities - Nino didn’t care much for that. People liked Miami for the food, the Cuban and other Latino influences - Nino didn’t like sandwiches with enough meat to feed a family of four for a week.
And people liked Miami because it was the main departure port for Sunshine Caribbean Cruise Line (amongst others) - Nino especially disliked Miami for that.
He was picking up some snacks at the local 7-11 since they would only be hitting ports with overpriced crap for the next two weeks. There was no way he was spending eight dollars for a candy bar in Cozumel, if he had a chance to get off at Cozumel to begin with. The staff dining hall left a lot to be desired on board so at least he’d have something.
Nino brought his basket up to the counter, noticing his co-worker still hovering in disbelief by the Slurpee machine.
“Sakurai, passengers board in four hours. Just pick a damn Slurpee.”
Sho looked over with a frown. “How do they get the Pow Pow Mega Cherry to taste so real though?”
Nino handed money to the cashier. “Lots and lot of fake additives and chemicals and shit. There is nothing natural in there, so can we move on please?”
Sho stuck his tongue out at him before grabbing a smaller Slurpee cup than his usual and filling it with sugary faux cherry goodness. Nino waited impatiently as Sakurai stocked up on his snacks.
“You’re lucky you don’t room with Matsumoto,” Nino told Sho as they started walking back to the docking area. “He could tell you calorie count, carbs, fat content, cholesterol blah blah for every candy bar you just bought.”
He ignored the skittish way Sho started to walk at mention of Matsumoto. It wasn’t that Jun was a bad person to share quarters with - he was just a little too high-strung for Nino’s liking. Then again, he’d never met anyone who could put away low-carb, organic, all-natural cardboard tasting granola bars like Jun either, so that was sort of intriguing.
“Some of the candy is for Masaki, too,” Sho said. Nino didn’t know Sho’s roommate too well yet - he’d only been contracted for two months so far, but the other three and Satoshi Ohno from the Kyoto Lounge on the Midori deck had contracted with Sunshine three or four times now.
As they turned the corner, Nino sighed at the stark white ship with colorful flags moored in the harbor. The Floating Sakura was the top ship in Sunshine Caribbean’s line - not the fastest (that was the Mindanao Magic) and not the newest (Singapore Sunrise) - but it was the most respected and most luxurious, and Nino was probably lucky to be assigned to her for his first contract.
But he hadn’t wanted to do the Caribbean routes in the first place. He’d wanted to see the world, do a little traveling. Without breaking the bank of course. Working for a cruise line gave him free room and board, he could save the money he earned and enjoy his free time in different ports of call. On Sunshine’s job page, he’d requested placement with the Sunshine Mediterranean fleet, the Sunshine Baltic fleet, even the Sunshine Alaska fleet.
Yet here he was in month two of six, baking in the Miami sun just before another 14 day Mega Caribbean Tour. He couldn’t wait to get back to his snug, but air-conditioned cabin he shared with Jun.
Of course, things never went in Nino’s favor. Before he and his bag of snacks could even reach the lower decks and staff cabins, Nishikido was already tugging on his arm and panicking.
“Nino, you need to get in uniform right now,” Ryo was screeching. Sho saw that this wasn’t going to go well - he waved and headed off for his own cabin, still working on his Slurpee.
He sighed. “What is it? Nobody’s boarding for over three hours.”
“It’s Tegoshi,” Ryo said ominously. Now Nino was paying attention. Tegoshi was the cabin attendant Nino was job shadowing until he was cleared to work on his own.
“The hell did he do?”
Ryo just tugged Nino, snacks and all, down the corridor, seemingly to the elevator and the infirmary on the Kiiroi deck.
“Ryo, will you tell me what’s going on?”
Nishikido looked grave when the elevator doors closed. “Yuya has the clap.”
--
“Masaki, I’m not yelling. You don’t need to cry.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kusanagi, I’m so very sorry,” Aiba cried anyway.
The purser pursed his lips, frowning at his employee. “All I’m saying is to watch yourself when you type in details about our guests’ belongings. You’re not getting fired!”
Aiba’s tears slowed a bit. So initially he’d been crying because Kusanagi was going to tear him a new one. His mistyping in the computer had ended up with a guest taking home over $30,000 that had definitely not belonged to her. He’d typed in ‘Mary Thomas’ instead of ‘Mary Thompson’ when the woman had deposited her casino earnings in their office.
How was he to know there’d actually be a Mary Thomas on board the Floating Sakura - and a willing thief at that! He couldn’t be a perfect employee like Sho. Sho never made typing mistakes. Sho never misplaced someone’s extremely rare foreign currency. Sho never deleted the entire purser’s office database by accident.
Aiba supposed Kusanagi didn’t get him reassigned to a different part of the ship solely because Aiba was so friendly. And being friendly got the purser’s office high marks on the “How was your trip?” comment card. Sometimes Aiba had even been singled out for praise. It embarrassed him on the outside but pleased him on the inside.
He loved working on the Floating Sakura. He loved meeting new people all the time and though it was always sad to see them go, the next week would be a whole new slew of passengers who could come into the purser’s office. Making friends and sharing life experiences was really what working on a cruise ship was all about.
Not that many of his co-workers agreed with him. Most were just in it for the money they could save or the potential for hook-ups in the staff quarters or the rare but blessed chance to get off the boat and relax on a white sand beach. And unlike Masaki, they didn’t like that they had to smile and be positive every time they were out of their cabins in case guests were around.
“Thank you, Mr. Kusanagi. It won’t happen again, sir.”
His boss just rolled his eyes, scanning the guest manifest on the computer. “Where’s Sakurai? We’ve got that VIP staying on the Aoi Deck.”
Well, Sho was probably still at 7-11 and hopefully getting Masaki a good stash of mini Snickers bars. “Who’s the VIP? I’d be happy to…”
Kusanagi stared at him. “I think not. Do you know what VIP means, Masaki? It means very important person…”
“But Sunshine’s policy is that every guest is a VIP,” Aiba pointed out.
“Don’t quote policy at me. That’s just a line to make middle-aged couples from Nebraska think they’re special.”
Aiba wasn’t as jaded about the cruise industry as his boss seemed to be. “I promise I’ll take very good care of whatever he brings here. Please, give me a chance to prove myself?”
Kusanagi was still clicking through the passenger manifest. “He’s a rock star, and his manager has very specific requests.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure his things are safe.”
He gave Kusanagi his most hopeful stare, eyes glistening, hands clasped, Masaki nametag gleaming under the purser’s office’s fluorescent lighting.
“Fine. You’ll coordinate with his cabin attendant. He’s on Aoi Deck, suite 3.” He clicked the mouse again. “Yuya Tegoshi. Go.”
Aiba waited until he was in the corridor before doing a happy dance of joy. He’d earn Kusanagi’s trust - his first VIP. Sho would be so jealous.
--
“Shun, stop half-assing the tablecloths. They should be crisper than a new hundred dollar bill,” Jun complained as he laid down place settings.
“I’m not half-assing!” Shun grumbled from the next table over.
Jun frowned, rearranging the forks all over again. It had to be perfect - the Welcome Aboard dinner in the Paradise Dining Room was the guests’ first meal and if they wanted to kick the Holiday Buffet room’s seating this trip then Shun had to step it up.
Holiday Buffet drew the families and the chubby couples, but Paradise got the girlfriends on a ladies’ vacation, the businessmen, the wealthier ones. Sure, Jun may have just been a busboy, but he was in Paradise for this contract, and he’d get in the kitchen next time. He had to.
Of course, cleaning up plates of filet mignon and lobster was not what Jun had envisioned when he signed on. It would have been easier to stay home and work in a regular restaurant. He’d probably move up the ladder faster. But Sunshine Caribbean offered him the chance to work with chefs from around the world, in styles collected from all corners of the earth. This was what Jun wanted- what he craved.
This was his dream job.
Just not... busboy duties, per se.
"Seriously, can you hurry up?" Jun asked, moving to the next table as Shun was only starting on the second half of his.
Shun looked annoyed when he glanced up across gold-rimmed goblets. "Not all of us can be you, Jun."
"And rightly so," Jun sing-songed. He carefully placed the shell-shaped napkin ring around the folds and set it gently in the middle of the plate. He was so engrossed in making sure all the fork twines were perpendicular to the bottom of the table that he missed Shun moving up behind him with quiet footsteps.
"Hey," Shun whispered, low and very near Jun's ear, which made Jun jump and startle. "Have you heard?"
"About how creepy you are?" Jun grumbled, tugging at his ear- dammit, that had tickled.
Shun took a glance around the Paradise Dining Room, and then motioned for Jun to lean forward. "We have a rock star with us for the next two weeks."
Just what they needed- someone with their holier than thou attitude telling Jun that the water in their glass was not cold enough for their expensive tastes. He glowered down at the place settings like they were somehow behind this turn of events.
"I hope it's a hot chick," Shun said, a blissful expression on his face.
"Stop imagining yourself on the lido deck with Cindy Crawford," Jun told him, and went back to arranging the tables. "She'd never stoop to your level."
Shun made some grumbles under his breath, but went back to his own assignment, and Jun spent the rest of the time imagining what he was going to serve when he started his own restaurant, and what font he would put the menus in.
--
Ohno had to admit, he was confused when the first man in a black suit and sunglasses came into the main lobby where his bar was located (guests often wore their sunglasses all the way through the Floating Sakura just because they were on vacation, but rarely did he get anyone in a three-piece suit before embarkation).
He was more confused when the second one came in and began talking into the watch on his wrist, checking the corners of the room for suspicious objects. By the time the rest of them had filtered in through the stairwells, there were four suit-clad men checking out various things around the room- one was doing a sweep of the backside of the curtains near the Grand piano.
"Are you staying in the suites?" he asked one with spiked hair that came over to sniff at the open bottle of vodka Ohno was re-capping. They looked like they would be good tippers.
The one nearest to him, leaning over the bar, pulled out a walkie-talkie that still had some pink Hello Kitty stickers attached to it. Ohno wondered why he needed it with the ear bud visible in his left ear.
"The coast is clear. Jolly Green can come aboard."
Ohno peered in closer to the clip on Ear bud’s lapel- it said Hey Say Security LLC in gold, beveled letters, and below that Agent Chinen in slightly larger font.
"So you guys are security guards?" Ohno asked. They didn't look very old. They also didn't look like they could actually stop him if he decided to rush the object in question, but he didn't really think that was good to mention, on the off-chance that they actually were carrying weapons. It might discourage them from buying drinks (if they were even old enough).
The others lined up near the aft stairwell and there were loud tromping boot noises on the tiles. Ohno waited, drying off the last of the red wine glasses, until a man wearing a leopard coat and dark sunglasses stepped into the main lobby. He was taller than all of the security guards- towering at least a couple of inches, if not more, over all of them. He did a perfunctory glance of the area, and then spotted Ohno, advancing immediately to the seashell-lined bar counter and slapping one hand down.
"I'd like one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer," the man said.
"Really?" Ohno asked. It was kind of a weird request. It was also 2 PM, and the ship hadn't even taken off from Miami yet. The man began laughing in loud, rigorous guffaws, smacking his palm against the bar a few times.
Then he stopped, and looked at Ohno a bit awkwardly. "But seriously."
"Oh," Ohno said, and started to pull out glasses to complete the order. The man stood twiddling his fingers against the counter, and Agent Chinen approached him. The security detail still hadn't taken off their sunglasses. Ohno wondered how they could really see anything.
They spoke in hushed tones until Ohno had the three drinks completed, and then the man in the fancy coat reached forward to slam all three down. He seemed to have forgotten that he ordered a beer, because he had to stall and everyone just sort of waited while he drank the whole thing down. A minute or two later, the bottom rim of the bottle hit the counter and the man made a pleased sounding noise.
"So," Ohno started, "I guess you are kind of a big deal."
"That is an understatement, my boy," the man said gravely. "I'm a rock star."
He took the sunglasses off and Ohno looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out if he recognized him from anywhere. He didn't.
He was pretty sure he shouldn't say this, however.
"Tomoya Nagase," the man said, reaching a hand out. Ohno shook it gingerly.
"Are your guards accompanying you on the cruise?"
Nagase waved a hand at them. "Naw. Can't afford 'em. Just here before take off."
Ohno refrained from explaining that "taking off" was for planes. Instead, he reached for the empty glasses and began rinsing them off in the sink as Nagase sat back and apparently took in the sights. The Floating Sakura's lobby was nice; the vaulted ceiling had colored glass in it, everything was decorated in varying shades of blue, and even the railings of the stairwells were lined with sea shell fragments.
It wasn't the Kyoto Lounge, which Ohno was perhaps overly partial to since it was his usual assignment, but the lobby was a grand way of greeting guests to their Sunshine Caribbean experience.
"Do you like classic rock?" Nagase asked him.
Ohno blinked in surprise at the man. "I don't know. I don't really listen to much other than the music in the lounge."
Nagase did some very elaborate shifting in his chair, face contorted into what Ohno could only assume was an expression of severe disdain. "Well. Might have to change that, then."
"Okay," Ohno said easily, shrugging.
"Anyway," Nagase sighed, standing once more, "my detail tells me this place is clean."
"What did you think was going to be here?" Ohno asked.
Nagase just sort of looked at him, and didn't really answer. "Guess I'll be on my way to my cabin, then."
He left, security detail in tow (all shorter than him, and looking a bit like ducklings following their mother), and it was only when Ohno reached for the empty beer glass that he realized Nagase had failed to tip him.
He let out a long-suffering sigh, and resigned himself to a trying next two weeks.
--
There were moans coming from inside the infirmary bathroom.
Not the good kind of moans; though, to be fair, Nino didn't really think any kind of moans were good when he was the one forced to get the passengers what they requested, be it condoms or otherwise, but that was beside the point. The point was that the sounds coming from inside were definitely not pleasurable, and were making Nino more than a little uncomfortable. Across from him, Ryo was standing with his arms crossed, staring down at his shoes.
Nino met Ryo's gaze and then the noises within raised an octave, and Nino found the ceiling tiles more interesting to look at.
The pained sounds stopped. Ryo opened his mouth like he was going to say something, and then they started up again, with more volume than before.
"Oh, for the love of god," Nino hissed. "My genitals are going to retract up into my body if I have to listen to much more of this."
Ryo coughed primly and rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door. "Yuya? Are you almost done?"
There was a muffled sounding whimper, and then the flush of the toilet. A few seconds later, the door opened and Nino's mentor came out, white-faced and clammy looking.
"It burns when I pee," Tegoshi said.
"Okay," Nino said cheerily, turning on his heel. "I'm leaving now."
He got halfway to the door before Ryo caught his arm, forcing his feet to stop moving. "Wait, wait! He has to go ashore for treatment, and besides, we can't keep him here right now. It's bad for our publicity."
"Why?" Nino asked, eyeing Tegoshi warily. "Who did he sleep with?"
"218. Shiroi deck," Tegoshi replied. He sounded very glum.
Nino stared at the other man for a very long moment, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to punch Tegoshi in the face.
"So, what are you saying?" Nino demanded. "You're leaving? You haven't finished training me yet!"
"Well, you're the only one with any training," Ryo said. "And our VIP is coming onboard today, and you're... well, you're going to have to take the assignment. It might take some delicate handling."
Nino's stomach contracted slightly, leaving him vaguely breathless. "Are you serious?"
"Look, it's just for a little while," Ryo continued. He was shifty-eyed, and refused to meet Nino's gaze, finding instead his shoelaces terribly interesting. "Just for the next two weeks. If it goes badly, then we'll just pull one of the stewards who originally came in as a cabin attendant until we can get the roster put back together again."
"Delicate handling?" Nino all but screeched.
Tegoshi sat down gingerly on the cot, looking like movement of any kind pained him. "It's not that hard, really. You just have to keep him especially happy so that he comes back."
"And tells all his friends," Ryo added.
Nino tried to hide behind his hands, but it was a lost cause. His next two weeks were suddenly looking very, very difficult.
"Fine," he ground out. "But next time you are in the middle of training someone, try to time your sexual escapades so that this doesn't happen again."
Tegoshi made a strangled sounding moaning noise. "Don't talk about sex, please. My junk hurts."
"Yeah, I'm so done here," Nino said.
"His name is Tomoya Nagase!" Ryo called at Nino's retreating form. "The paperwork is in the attendant's office with your name on a sticky note! You can't miss it!"
"Probably can!" Nino replied, and let the door slam shut behind him.
--
Sho smiled at the people starting to file in onto the ship wearing Jimmy Buffet shirts and Tommy Bahama sandals, keeping the grin on his face and waving at a few of the kids who ran past with inflatable tubes already around their waists. "Hello and welcome aboard the Floating Sakura. Please don't hesitate to contact the purser's office should you require any of our services."
An older woman with hair that looked vaguely blue stopped in front of him. "Excuse me, excuse me, where is this boat going?"
"Ma'am, you purchased the cruise, the itinerary has always been public."
The lady seemed to ignore this completely. "But, is it going to the Caribbean?"
"Ma'am, this is the Sunshine Caribbean Cruise Line."
He got an annoyed hand waving in his face and the woman moved on, leaving him to wonder what it was that he had done in a former life that was so terrible. There were footsteps behind him, and then a tap on the shoulder, and he bit back his retort about the ship going to Alaska as he turned.
He found himself face to face with Aiba instead of the confused old woman.
"Are you here to relieve me?" he asked, chest swelling with hope.
"No," Aiba said, "but guess what! There's going to be a VIP on the ship, and Mr. Kusanagi assigned him to me!"
Sho's heart sank further down towards his stomach. "Wait, what? Why you?"
"He obviously just has faith in my people handling skills," Aiba said proudly, which really meant that he'd begged and pleaded his way onto the assignment. Sho opened his mouth to complain and suddenly found himself with a face full of Louis Vuitton leopard print luggage. He fell backwards with a startled cry and a pang of pain shooting down his nose.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the young woman cried. "Are you hurt?"
Sho waved her off, even as Aiba's fingers were curling around his arm and attempting to haul him back up to his feet. "No, no, it's fine, I'm on local anesthesia. Carry on."
When he pulled his hand away from his face, there was blood on his palm.
"Ouch," Aiba winced sympathetically. "Do you want me to get you a kleenex?"
"This is so not a very good start to the cruise," Sho said, a bit pathetically (he sincerely hoped that Aiba wouldn't tell anyone else about this little incident). "I can't believe you got the VIP."
Aiba pulled out a crumpled napkin from his pocket and started dabbing at Sho's nose. A group of twenty-something girls came up wearing crowns and sashes that said "Bachelorette Party! Judi's Getting Hitched!" on them, and one of them stopped near where Sho was leaning somewhat heavily against the metal doorway, holding out a small packet.
"Here," she said, rhinestones on her sunglasses sparkling in the sun's rays. "It'll help."
"Oh, no," Sho started, because he did have some dignity left, even if it was very small and buried very, very deep, but Aiba reached happily for the offered tampon with a bright smile.
"Thank you so much!" he exclaimed, and then promptly unwrapped it and jammed it up Sho's nostril. Then he just looked expectantly at Sho like he figured he was going to get praise, or at least thanks, and Sho tried to find the nearest hole that he could hide himself in for the duration of the cruise.
"Dis is nod sdarding well," he moaned, head in his hands.
Aiba gave him a quick pat to the shoulder. "Well, I'm going to go and check to see if my VIP needs anything! Try not to get hit with anymore bags, and don't leave that in for more than 6-8 hours."
Sho refrained from tripping him as Aiba made his way back inside the deck to the stairwell.
--
If Nino had more than say, a Port-a-Potty’s amount of room to himself on board the Floating Sakura, he would have brought his guitar. Nino liked music. He liked playing songs he enjoyed from memory or making his own songs up. Working on a cruise ship didn’t give him much time for his hobbies. Jun was very particular about his sleep regimen anyhow, so it’s not like Nino could have just brought out the guitar randomly.
In his years as a self-taught musician, Nino could say with certainty that he had never once attempted to teach himself a Tomoya Nagase song. It’s not like they were hard - same chord same chord same chord, et cetera. Song topics like drinking beer, getting laid, and getting laid after drinking beer. And the occasional American flag waving patriotic song for a truck commercial.
It just wasn’t Nino’s style. Unlike most of the music listeners in the country, Nino had taste.
Of course, the country hadn’t heard from Tomoya Nagase in some time. At least Nino hadn’t - not that he paid much attention to the guy’s career. A few years back when Nino had just dropped out of college and spent most of his days on the couch, he remembered one of those celebrity gossip shows doing a “Where are they now?” segment on Nagase. He hadn’t released an album in a while, and his last live show had been at the Omaha Small Business Association’s annual barbecue. He’d shown up high on ecstasy.
But here he was, still able to afford the best suite on the ship while Nino would spend the next two weeks catering to the guy’s every sure-to-be-perverse rock star need. Damn that Tegoshi. Nino hoped the guy would stick with his hand for a while. He went over the clipboard that the head steward had put together - special requests from the guest.
No waking up before 11 AM unless there were Belgian waffles. Rose petals from the bed to the toilet (not the bathroom, but specifically the toilet bowl). No fewer than fifteen Almond Joy bars on the bedside table at all times. Gideon’s Bible replaced with the most recent Hustler.
Nino looked at the last request and frowned.
Bedtime story for Mr. Nagase, 1:30 AM (materials will be provided by Mr. Nagase).
He hadn’t even met the guy yet, and he already wanted to throw Nagase off the boat. Or throw himself off the boat. But breaking his contract would adversely affect his finances, and it wasn’t like he had many promising job offers on land anyway. It was just two weeks - he’d deal with it. It just would have been easier if Tegoshi was reading bedtime stories at 1:30 in the morning when Nino preferred to be asleep.
Well, better get the introductions out of the way. He tucked the clipboard under his arm and checked his hair in the mirrored glass of the elevator before the doors dinged open. The plush carpeting of the Aoi Deck cushioned his walk of disappointment as he headed for Nagase’s suite.
There were other wealthy types complaining about the other attendants bringing in their fancy luggage. Nino was pretty thin and quick on his feet, and he was able to smoothly duck in between guests and attendants and...wait, why did that couple need their own personal treadmill for a two week cruise? He put on his friendly smile anyway, nodding politely as he continued to the door at the end of the corridor.
He could hear the bathtub filling as he knocked. They hadn’t even left the dock yet, and the guy was taking a bath? “Mr. Nagase, this is Kazunari Ninomiya, your Sunshine attendant for the voyage. Just wanted to introduce myself.”
Nino distinctly heard a woman’s voice and a splash.
He knocked one more time. “Mr. Nagase? If there’s anything you need to make your departure go more smoothly, I’m here to help. Just wanted to let you know that dinner in the Paradise Dining Room starts at 6:00 following the mandatory lifeboat...”
The door opened.
“...and other safety drills so if you could make your way up to the oh my god, you’re naked.”
The man had to be about half a foot taller than Nino, possibly more, naked as the day he was born. Though Nino supposed he hadn’t been so well...established when he was a baby.
“I...if this is a bad time, sir...”
Nagase slapped a heavy hand on Nino’s shoulder, possibly dislocating something. The rocker squinted at his nametag. “Hey Kazunono, not a bad time, good to see ya!”
Nino looked down. It clearly said ‘Kazunari’ but it wasn’t the easiest name, was it? Don’t look at his dick, he told himself mentally. Don’t look at his dick. Don’t look at his dick. Don’t look at his...
“Like what you see? You know how many girls have played hide the pickle in your mouth with me?”
“I couldn’t venture a...”
“Hell, I lost count once I hit a thousand, haha,” Nagase pulled him into the room by his attendant’s vest. “Could you do something about the broad in the tub?”
“I’m sorry?”
Nagase pulled him aside near the stateroom’s fancy oaken armoire. The guy needed to put some clothes on. Five minutes ago. “Look, I met this chick down when I was checking in, and she totally wanted to get on board my battleship.”
“Okay.”
“But you know, she won’t leave. So since you’re my attendant,” he said, flicking his finger against Nino’s nametag, “maybe you know all the tricks to getting her back to her own place?”
Nino heard more splashing. “Tomoya! Bring that submarine back to my deep water!”
Nagase clasped his hands together and smiled big. “Please, bro? You gotta help me out.”
Okay. Nino was sure of it.
He no longer wanted to live.