Disclaimer: The work below is one of fiction, should there be any real life events mirrored, it is but a mere coincidence. All characters, settings, and relations belong to me, please do not use unless permission has been given.

Heaven Far Away - Chapter One (The Twinge of Longing)

I remember when I called him my friend. I remember when I trusted him. I remember when I depended on him and believed that he really could help me. Right now, his cold eyes showed nothing but impatience, the lips that were drawn into a straight line mocked me for my childish beliefs. I did not want to turn my gaze away, and in between the legs of these men who surrounded me, I thought I saw the laughter in his eyes as he watched on. My own legs were spread open, and I felt someone's cock fill me. It was shoved in me without mercy, and my body reacted with spasms of its own. This pain ripped through me, and I wondered if it was precisely this pain I felt when he betrayed me.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

But I love you. I love you. I love you.

Because of you, I slept with the worst of the worst, but because of you, I will know the taste of loving someone so completely.

He stepped into my life then, tall and proud; and with an arm, he pulled the man off of me. At that moment, I could only see him. His hair, his eyes, his face, his body, the strong and confident strides that he took while disposing this room of those wretched beings. I did not know anything else, anyone else except for him. He overshadowed all that there was in this world.

"Yo, kid."

My eyes saw his lips move, but my mind did not decipher the syntax of the sounds that left his lips. I did not care. I could only stare. His jet black hair and dark blue eyes filled my universe, and he became my God. I decided, in that second, that I would serve him until the end of my days, 'till my last breath, and if fortunate, I will continue to serve him even after my death.

I saw him pull something away from my torn clothes. Ah, I recognized it. It was the wallet that I had "borrowed without permission" mere moments ago, in fact, just before this little episode took place. Ah, my mind made the connections. He must be here to retrieve his stolen wallet.

"You're going to regret stealing from me, you punk."

No, no, no, you are wrong. I wanted to shake my head and tell him so, but nothing in my body was under my command any more. Give me another life, give me another ten lives, twenty lives, and I will still take your wallet away from you. If it means that I could see you, there are no regrets.

He took off his long, winter jacket and draped it over me. The wool material scraped against my tendered skin and it hurt. But it's okay, because I had his attention. He lifted me from the dirtied floor and held me close to him. At that moment, I knew, I just knew that I was caught. This life would no longer be mine, it belonged to him.

"You're distracted, Kazuya."

Artificial light, the warmth of a finely furnished room, the scent of expensive Dior, and Kazuya's sensory organs picked up on these cues one by one dutifully. Within seconds, his mind registered the situation as training and he instinctually opened his mouth to slide further along the hardened flesh 'till his nose met skin.

He looked up at the man who had brought him out of his reverie and Kazuya curled his lips silently in a smile. The cock in his mouth was uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn't deal with. Slowly, he told himself to relax and let the muscles of his throat work on the sensitive head buried deep within. He was satisfied to receive a low groan from the man sitting on the edge of the bed.

Kazuya's eyes darted upwards in eager anticipation, typical of a puppy waiting for praise. All he saw was the smirk that he had grown accustomed to before he had hold of his hair, pulling his head back to let air wash over lungs momentarily.

"Hurry up, I have an appointment shortly."

Kazuya licked his lips and nipped at the sensitive skin of the swollen organ in his face. There was no use prolonging this session, to want to give back some of the most pleasurable torture that he's received at the hands of this man, his trainer. He focused on his task at hand –and mouth-, concentration spelled out in the way that his eyebrows would furrow. If he had any thoughts of delaying, he realized that his jaw had grown tired and would rather not accommodate anything else.

He came with a low grunt, every fibre of that 190 centimetre body tensed with his release. Kazuya watched for his every reaction, how his eyebrows would draw together, and the strands of hair would fall into his eyes.

This man was sinfully handsome. However to him, he was just that.

Afterwards, Kazuya sprawled himself out on the large bed and looked at the other dress. "So, how was it, Bakusui-san?" His large eyes watched Bakusui's every move, waiting to hear something positive.

"You should be glad that that it was me you were servicing and not a client, with how distracted you were, a client would have been royally offended."

No words of praise came, Kazuya should have known. Dropping himself entirely onto the bed, he pouted at the man who had retrieved into his closet to dress. He had learnt very quickly that it was easier to see the sky pour diamonds than to hear a compliment from Bakusui's mouth. This man of seasoned pleasure, exuding pheromones every breath that he took, this was Bakusui Eiji. He was the trainer and the man that so many despised and feared at the same time.

"It's so late, you're still going out?"

"We do not have an availability table set out for our convenience; the clients' times of operation are our times of operation. I thought that was our first lesson, forgetting already?"

"Of course not!" Kazuya protested immediately, pushing himself up as to further emphasize the point. "I was just asking!"

Bakusui emerged from the closet dressed in a fine suit of Dior, looking as stunning as always. The pair of glasses on his nose bridge gave him ever more a sophisticated appearance. "Then the next time, ask something that's more constructive." Kazuya heaved a sigh and turned his pout away, he should have known! "Remember to lock the door when you leave."

"Yes, yes."

With that, Bakusui had already turned and left out of the door with a click shut of it behind him. Kazuya lay in silence, just simply letting the world fly by him. At night time, it seemed everyone had something to do; a party to attend, an appointment to keep. Being a new host and still under training, his nights were his free time. It wasn't as if Kazuya was looking to service unknown men, but the times when he had company, he could forget momentarily about the longing that extended throughout his body. A longing for someone who was so hard to reach, so out of grasp.

But he was not about to give up, no! He joined this club because of him, and until the last second, there will be no giving up. Climbing off of Bakusui's bed, he made sure it was straightened and no wrinkles were left behind. That skill was obtained as part of his training as well, making beds and tidying up rooms. The room was grand and majestic, it was filled with every appliance needed, and with other bonuses as well.

This was Opiate, somewhere in Japan; this was an exclusive club for those who sought out services of men. That was the polite way to say it, but Kazuya knows that to the common public –if they ever hear of this place-, it's just a high brand house of prostitution.

At the doorway, he surveyed the room before shutting off all the lights. In the darkness, the room seemed to have expanded and grew bigger. Or perhaps, it was just he who was shrinking. Opiate offered the best services to its clients, and at the same time, it maintained the best services for its hosts as well. This room was exclusively Bakusui's, fitful for a man like him, Kazuya wondered how many had the opportunity to lie in that bed.

Eventually, it will support him as well, when training continues onto that stage.

Situated on the forty-ninth floor, Kazuya shut the door behind him firmly to lock it, the entire hallway was empty. This was accessible only by staff members, and clients could only be escorted up here by a host or if they have previous reservations. The carpet running the hallway was thick and beautifully coloured, the sounds of his footsteps were drowned out.

But the sounds of something crashing to pieces were not.

Kazuya froze in the hallway, his eyes darted left and right wanting to pinpoint the source of that noise. When it didn't come, he wondered if it was just a client getting a little too involved with his host. Where most of the clients were good, there was always that handful who demanded unreasonable things.

"Get the fuck out and don't ever fucking show me your face again!"

A few steps down, a door slammed open and a half dressed man emerged while dodging a vase that was thrown at him. The vase hit the wall and shattered, the smallest of pieces caught the man's face and Kazuya gasped when he saw the beginnings of blood spill.

"Shuzo-sama!" Kazuya moved forward towards the crime scene, eyes widened in disbelief. Shuzo barely registered him before quickly moving aside when an ashtray was thrown out the door, following by an enraged host.

"I never want to see your face again! Go die!"

"You impossible little…" Shuzo's sentence was cut off when the host threatened to throw a cup that was already in his hand. Kazuya watched as Shuzo turned and made his way to the elevator, no less angered than the host.

And as abruptly as everything started, it ended with the chime of the elevator. For a long moment, Kazuya and his fellow host stood in silence when finally the host tossed the cup back into his room and closed the door behind him.

"Let's go."

"Eh? Where to?" Kazuya's mind was still not wrapping around the situation quite yet.

"You have to see the owner too, right? I'll go with you."

The owner's office, attached was the owner's bedroom in the club. The owner, Kazuya had already given him another title, God. Ever since he was lifted out of that dump site months ago by the owner, he had resigned completely to this man. Still as he's always remembered him, Kazuya could not control the wild racing of his heart. Even when he was situated on the sofa and Gen was the one under interrogation right now.

Chikamasa Gen, a host of merely a little more than a year, and yet he has already climbed to the number two spot on the uke side. Gen wasn't someone Kazuya aspired to be, but Kazuya knows that Gen must have done something right to have survived here.

"Gen, how many times must I tell you to treat the clients with respect?"

God, ahem –the owner-, started with a heavy tone, it was laced with frustration. This wasn't the first time that this has happened, of course, but it doesn't change the circumstances one bit. Kazuya eyes ticked from the owner to Gen, whom was silent and merely starred at the floor by his feet.

"Is this your way of telling me that we need to re-train you, Gen?" The owner continued on, and Kazuya could hear the hardening of his tone and he saw the narrowing of the owner's eyes. His breath caught, and although he should be worried for Gen, it was this man, the owner –Konbayoshi Takahiro- who demanded his utmost attention.

"You would not!" Gen's voice was still fuelled with ammo, even when he addressed the owner.

"Now, now, Gen-chan." The secretary's voice cut in, instantaneously, he had placed a hand on the owner's shoulder as if to keep him grounded. "Owner here is merely suggesting that you play a bit nicer with the clients so both parties separate happily."

"I don't care! He annoys me and this is how I will treat him when he annoys me, like it or not!" Gen declared with even more of determination and turned to leave, not without a slam of the door. Kazuya thought he saw the vein on the owner's forehead throb with irritation.

The office returned to silence, and a moment later, the secretary retrieved his hand from the owner's shoulder, who threw himself back into his leather chair automatically. "For fuck's sake, I don't even know why we bother to keep him!" He exclaimed in an exasperated tone, hissing out a breath. The secretary was just about to answer when the phone cut through the silence and instead, he attended to his job first.

Konbayoshi's eyes opened and he pinned them on Kazuya instead. "How was your session?"

"It was fine." In front of the owner, Kazuya had no choice but to soften. Though he could behave like Gen at times, in front of the owner, he was always the timid little one who begged for his affection with every cell of his body.

"When will there be any progress?" Progress meant being able to list his name on the menu for clients to peruse through, it meant to be an established host and service clients. Kazuya's heart bled at the question, it was a reminder once again that the owner did not see him as anything more than another host, another body, another merchandise.

"I don't know."

"Don't delay any longer than necessary, tell Bakusui I said that." Kazuya could only nod at the demanding tone of the owner's voice. Part of him wondered if Gen had not pulled this little stunt tonight, would the owner receive him with a rare smile. It was hard to imagine, having the owner's affection all to himself, no, take a step back, just having the owner's affection once in a while would be good enough.

Again, the room was plunged into silence.

"Please just a moment." From the other side of the room, the secretary finally lifted his head from the conversation with a grin plastered on his face. Kazuya almost wanted to bring a hand up to shield that sheer dazzling force. "Takahiro, you should pick up the phone."

Though he may be a secretary on the front, but Haruno Shouhei has been a long time friend with the owner. So instead of saying it's a boss-employee relationship, it was more like a stock hold investment. Kazuya glanced from Haruno's smiling face to the owner's neutral one as he leaned forward to pick up the telephone.

"Konbayoshi." He gave his name casually. And then, his face changed. It was a tiny change, but Kazuya caught it. Immediately, he piqued up and looked at the owner intently. "I'm good, how have you been?" It was calm, the voice. From out of Kazuya's sight to within Kazuya's sight, Haruno sat on the edge of the desk and looked at the owner with an amused grin. "Oh, is that so? That's fine, if he's willing to pay the compensation." Ah, work related, Kazuya concluded. "That's fine, let us know when the dates have been finalized." And Haruno's grin grew even wider. "Yes. Okay. Good night."

And the phone call was finito when the owner placed the receiver down.

No one said anything.

The owner then rose from his seat and grabbed the jacket that was placed on the back of his chair. "I'm going home. Call me if anything goes wrong." Kazuya stood up quickly and bowed to him as he stepped closer. Then his feet stopped, and Kazuya slowly looked up. They looked at each other for a moment before the owner placed a hand on Kazuya's head and ruffled his hair lightly. "Do your best with training." Just like that, Kazuya was thunder-struck, unable to move from his place even after the owner had gone from the room.

It was just him and Haruno.

"Owner-sama, he…" Kazuya stuttered and looked back at Haruno almost mechanically, he wanted to make sure that he wasn't the only one who had felt and saw what happened. He needed reaffirmation and reassurance. Haruno answered him with a smile and he straightened up from the desk.

"His kind gestures are hard to come by, huh?"

Kazuya could only stare at Haruno mutely; he hoped the secretary would understand that his silence was his agreement.

"I wonder what could have possibly brightened up his mood so."

That's right. Kazuya blinked and touched his hair, although no longer stylishly refined as previously, any hair style would be of no importance to the owner's touch.

"Ne, Kazuya-chan, have you ever heard of the name Toudo Chitose?"

Toudo Chitose? Kazuya searched the depth of his memory, although the name seems to ring a bell, but the reason for it was still unknown. He thought he had heard that name somewhere before, but… "No, why?" He answered truthfully.

Instead, he only received a grin as a reply and even the secretary announced that he would be turning in for the evening. However to Kazuya, such an interlude played no importance. He only wondered if he imagined hard enough, would he feel the ghostly touches of the owner on his body as well?

To be continued...

A.N.: For those who has actually read to the very end of this chapter, I would just like to say a simple thank you. And I do hope that you will continue to follow this small work of mine. It's no illusion that this piece of work has been inspired by many yaoi/shounen-ai manga that I've read. The concept of a host club and its contents is not new, but I hope to work within this familiar framework and bring out new details that will servce to entertain.