A/N: This comes as a sequel to "Insufferable Bastards." Though I don't think you will have to read that in order to completely enjoy this second meeting between Akito Sohma and my original character Kristean Mitchell, it might help with the context of this meeting and their conversation.

Again, I do not own Akito Sohma. Though...some how...I do not think that the creator of Fruits Basket owns this version of Akito either. This specific Akito archetype comes wholly inspired from Fandom Angst, the creator of "Creatures of the Underworld." If you all have not read this yet, I suggest that you do. But with extreme caution.

And in this sequel, there are some brief cameos of other original characters of mine from my original story "Hard Candy" on Wattpad. I am proud to say that the following characters are mine:

Shawn Evens

(Aden) McCaffery (and as a side note, Aden made his introduction to in my story "Suicide Girl And Her Saboten", which is based off of the work of TohruKyoYuki and her original character Kurumi from HER story "Mirror Mirror" which I highly suggest you all read if you already haven't).

Special thanks to Fandom Angst for allowing me the opportunity to use Akito again in order to give you all round two. And thank you to all who supported the prelude to this story "Insufferable Bastards." So, without further ado, here we go! Enjoy, and don't forget to review!


Tall, slender stiletto heels clicked sharply along the unforgiving tile. Smooth black leather business shoes following effortlessly behind in time and rhythm to the woman's strut and sway of her provocatively curvaceous hips. And a small simper of a smile was given to this, along with the complete lack of surprise that the man would keep such company. Trailing through narrowing corridors, the growth of music could be heard blossoming through the very walls of this building.

...if music was what you could really call it...

He found the abrasive percussion and squealing instruments coming violently strangled by heavy male vocals to be...distasteful. This too, was not entirely surprising, though, and seemed to fit what he knew of the man quite nicely. Art imitating life, perhaps. Something he could appreciate, even if this so called music left something to be desired.

"Kris is extremely busy." This statement came curt above the growing music as the woman maintained her pace. "And he doesn't have time for people who fail to make an appointment to see him."

"Oh believe me, Miss Evans..." The voice beside her came lithe with a small chuckle and the lightest caressing of a Japanese accent. "I guarantee that Mr. Mitchell will want to see me."

With this the woman gave a small huff of disapproval from her delicate nose as their approach was continued in silence. Slender legs cinched at the thighs in a pencil skirt slowed their stride and finally stopped in front of an imposing, thick door with an ominous red light just above screaming 'do not enter'. The hellacious music practically bled through the thick barrier the door offered as the woman finally turned the full force of her deep emerald gaze towards the figure silently haunting her footsteps.

Slender, delicate arms enfolded around her ribcage, accentuating her narrow waist and ample chest that came sinfully pushed through her trendy suit jacket. A stylish number that flared around her voluptuous hips to dress a soft and curvaceous body. An undeniably tantalizing feminine body that was sharply contrasted with her lean angular face and aggressive, dark A-line bob, coming finished and framed in chic black rimmed glasses.

A hungry corporate bitch attempting to thrive in a hostile, male-dominated world.

"And who exactly are you?" This question came laced through the purse of her lips as she shifted her hips seductively, an irritated scowl furrowing her beautiful features as her green eyes looked the self-important man up and down dubiously.

Thick, stick straight inky black hair framed an angel's face with a sweet cherub smile along delicate lips in offering to this question as he allowed her to drink him in for a moment. An expensive looking silk button down came underneath a slightly less formal black suede hooded jacket trimmed in white fur to temper the man from the cooler elements. The well fit, personally tailored top came paired with crisp black business trousers and finished with those smooth leather shoes that had carried him to this space. The small tilt of his head pulled her gaze to that alluring face once more. Slender fingers came to caress his chin in though, his own lips pursing in consideration of her question before that same sweet smile swept along his features. And a deep, intense onyx gaze met her own, almost predatory in its stare before he answered.

"I suppose you can tell him that I'm a dear friend who has come a very long way to see him." The man purred in a voice of smooth velvet and silk. "Because he once professed a desire to return my hospitality, and I have finally managed to find the time in my own busy schedule for this most generous offer." And this was met by another small sigh of exasperation before the woman parted her lips.

"The production sound booth is off limits." This statement came authoritative in its announcement through luscious lips. "I'll let Kris know that you're here to see him." These words were murmured lowly in her dismissal. "Wait here." With a tone that left little room for negotiation, the woman stepped through the door, closing it behind her as deep onyx orbs followed in silence before she finally disappeared.

Finally alone with himself for the first time since entering the studio, the man took silent vigil along one of the empty benches lining the hall as he waited. What had once been angelic smiles and lithe laughter fell into nothingness as his affect became almost terrifyingly flat in contemplation. Time moved forward in a slow crawl, made only more painfully labored with the fact that the man had made himself a statue of perfect stillness. Having crossed his legs in those designer trousers of his, the man looked almost as if he were posing still for a fashion magazine photo shoot.

What seemed a lifetime later, the man finally stirred in response to the door of the production sound booth opening, the light above having gone a soft pale green. Deep onyx eyes drifted towards the light before trailing to the woman who had acted as escort as she stepped through the threshold of the room. And a sickeningly sweet smile spread along delicate lips as the man rose from his seat. Deep onyx eyes met exotic blue in a small, intimate moment of recognition, yet the figure remained blankly stoic to the man's presence. That pale blue gaze followed the man's approach as he completely ignored and passed the woman bearing witness to this reunion before slender fingertips came in gentle contact with shoulders in an almost violent disregard of personal space.

And delicate lips met smooth pale skin in a tender kiss of the cheek.

"It's been far too long, my friend." This greeting came effortlessly chipper through a coy smile, and an unamuzed expression was the man's only response as lips parted in a low murmur.

"Shawn..." Kris' voice came calm and even in its call to the woman as he remained unfazed by the man directly in front of him who had so publicly marked him with his lips. "I need you to see if you can find McCaffery." The woman's attention came divided between the two men before her as Kris continued to coax her from the stupor over this strange meeting. "Tell him he needs to come see me about rescheduling time in the studio for his new album." He murmured, finally gaining the woman's attention with his exotic gaze. "I'm pushing up the release date." And with this the woman gave a small nod before being halted in her dismissal by a strangely lithe, carefree voice.

"It was a genuine pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss. Evans." The man called lightly to her, the sweet smile still in place as he gave a small, delicate bow. "I sincerely hope that it is not too long before we meet again." And with her departure he trailed himself behind Kris, who was already several steps away in the other direction.

The well dressed man followed Kris dutifully in silence, his smile coming somewhat twisted as that deep onyx gaze burrowed into the back of Kris' head. Stepping himself into the elevator to take his place at Kris' side, the two remained soundless in each others presence as the elevator doors closed in around them, revealing their reflections along its shiny metallic surface.

"Well played, Mr. Mitchell." The words came breathless in their dramatic delivery as Kris silently retrieved a cigarette from the pack in his suit jacket. "I have gambled with many men over various business matters, but I must admit that your poker face is simply astounding." This came laced in a light chuckle from the man as Kris exhaled a whisper of smoke, staring forward at his own reflection. "Honestly." The man continued in his admiration. "Had I known any better, I would have sworn that you were actually expecting me."

"And that would imply that I was actually surprised..." Kris murmured lightly through another drag of his cigarette as the elevator continued to ascend.

"Somehow I doubt that you anticipated my arrival, Mr. Mitchell." The man murmured lightly as Kris gave another sigh of smoke and indifference.

"As a rule, I really make it a point not to be surprised." Kris offered as the man gave another small chuckle of amusement at his attempt to deflate the man's glee over possibly having put him off guard.

"Birthdays must be absolutely dismal for you then, hm?" And to this Kris merely offered a shrug of his shoulders.

"I was raised Jehovah's Witness." Kris deadpanned. "We don't really observe birthdays." And exotic, pale blue eyes drifted towards the man, taking in his silent deliberation of the truthfulness of this statement before a string of lithe laughter came to fill the elevator.

"There is something I'm simply dying to ask you..." The man lightly pushed through to quell his laughter before continuing. "Does your woman know about us...?" And this question was met with a resoundingly bitter snort of amusement and smoke.

"You're really flattering yourself if you actually believe that there's an 'us.'" Kris murmured, and the man met this statement with the high arch of his well groomed brows.

"Oh, but Mr. Mitchell..." The man purred his name as their gaze collided, the elevator doors finally opening themselves to the requested floor. "...there is an 'us.'" And Kris carried himself through the threshold of the elevator as the man silently followed.

"I have to wonder how your 'boyfriend' feels about that...?" Kris finally murmured with a small smirk of amusement as the two men made their way down the endless corridor of office doors. "How is he, by the way?" This question came effortless and casual along his lips with the drag of his cigarette.

"He's quite well, thank you." The man's tone came smooth and unaffected with a polite smile towards this attempt to gain a reaction.

"Really..." Kris' own voice came but a cold whisper along smoke. "Did you bring him along for this little social call?" And this question came answered with a string of lithe laughter.

"No. Not today, Mr. Mitchell." The man chuckled to himself. "We both know that my precious lover can prove himself to be a bit of a distraction at times. I thought it best to leave him home while on this visit with you."

"Pity..." Came this small murmur of response, followed by a passive hum of agreement and a nod of the man's head.

"But I will be returning to him as soon as I've finished with you." Deep black orbs drifted towards Kris' face with that cherub smile. "My lover tends to enjoy misbehaving in my absence, and can become quite naughty when left with an overabundance of time to himself." And with this, a helpless snort of amusement came through a thin nose and veil of smoke.

"Well that is a shame." Kris murmured, supplanting his amusement. "A man should have no problem keeping his house in order." This light chastisement left the man completely unfazed through his effortless smile.

"You really don't need to trouble yourself over my affairs, Mr. Mitchell." The man cooed in a lithe tone. "I would be far more concerned with your own, if I were you."

With this most courteous, passive aggressive warning the two men fell into silence before coming to pause at a large, imposing hard wood door. And a light whistle of approval came slowly drawn from the man's delicate lips.

"Very impressive, Mr. Mitchell." The man murmured approvingly before following Kris into his office.

The room itself was grand with its open space and large bay windows that looked onto the city, though it held little to no personal touches of the man who conducted his business here. The walls seemed to rise to the heavens in a beige that amplified and warmed the dying light of the setting sun that came through the windows. And the office was only made more pretentiously flamboyant with the style of its interior decoration.

The furnishings were oversized and decadent, lending to Kris' ego and taste. Just as the man had suspected all along, a simper of a smirk growing along his delicate lips. The desk set in the middle of the room was beautiful hard wood mahogany. Imposing in its presence, it automatically sent a message of insignificance to those who entered the space.

And this...the man could truly appreciate.

"Shawn said something about you wanting to cash in on my offer of hospitality." Kris murmured lightly as he made his way comfortably through the space, snuffing out his spent cigarette and removing his suit jacked and tie to place them along one of the plush sofas as dark onyx orbs followed his every movement. "So I suppose I should ask if you care for a drink." This offer came empty and lacking in any form of emotion or action towards the gesture as Kris slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, his icy pale gaze not missing the fact that the man was watching him as the shirt came slipped from his muscularly lean torso and carelessly tossed to the floor beneath him.

A delicate gold cross suspended from a thin chain caught the man's attention first as onyx eyes traced themselves along Kris' bare torso, drinking in the delicate inscriptions just below each collarbone. In ink, to his right was written 'Love,' and to his left was inscribed 'Pain'. Kris gave a malicious little smirk at the man's obvious interest, delighting himself at having exposed a weakness as he turned his back to the man to go about his business of obtaining a fresh shirt. And as he turned his back to the man, across his shoulder-line came tattooed 'One in the same'.

"You know..." The man's words came laced along a small smile as he drank in Kris' bare torso. "Freud hypothesized that tattoos are a defense mechanism. A way of externalizing some internal trauma." He prattled on as Kris retrieved a clean shirt. "So tell me..." The tone of his voice dropped a bit as he murmured through delicate lips. "...what secret pain are you hiding?" And at this Kris spared a sardonic look over his shoulder before he finally donned a fresh, crisp white shirt from a small closet to cover his well toned figure.

"You don't often make it back to your dwelling, do you Mr. Mitchell?" This question came lightly asked as Kris finally claimed the chair behind his grandiose desk, gesturing for the man to take a seat as well.

"That really depends on my work schedule." Kris offered this up honestly, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up as the man actually gave a sympathetic nod of understanding.

"And I know that Shawn told you that I happen to be extremely busy at the moment," Kris' tone betrayed the smallest hint of fatigue as his voice came but a cold whisper. "So if you wouldn't mind cutting the bullshit and telling me why you're here, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't waist my time." And this was met with a genteel smile and nod of the man's head.

"But of course, Mr. Mitchell." The man acquiesced politely before the faintest knocking at the door stirred both men from this visit, and a small sigh of exasperation pushed itself from Kris' nose.

"Come in."

As the door came slowly pushed open a figure silently stalked through the threshold of Kris' office without introduction. The turn of the head from his seat, and dark black orbs dilated in response to the visual as a small, almost erotic gasp pulled itself through delicate lips.

That rich onyx gaze greedily took in the new arrival. Thick, black leather studded combat boots laced in chains gave the already imposing figure added height. Lean legs came clad in faded black denim jeans with added metallic accessories and more chains, finished with a studded leather belt that wrapped itself almost possessively around a thin waist. A black t-shirt bearing a white, elaborate insignia, with little to no script to lend to what it meant covered a lean torso and broad shoulders. But the man supposed that those in this country who saw it might know what it stood for. And the whole edgy ensemble was accentuated and finished off with a brutal spiked choker along a pale slender neck and matching wrist bands.

But what was even more engrossing, holding the man's sick fascination, was the hair. Dark inky black hair that had been aggressively shaved, the bangs drenched in blood red and violently pushed up into a mohawk, adding even more height to the lean six foot two frame. A hair style that came to match and mirror the sharp edges and angels of a blank, despondent face and haunted chocolate brown eyes. Eyes aged beyond the child's years. A child's face, marred with a nose piercing that linked a delicate, wire thin chain from the young man's nose to his ear in a complete show of horrifically delicious rebellion the man was not normally accustomed to seeing.

"Damn, McCaffery..." Kris murmured as his pale gaze, too, took in the young man's appearance with some interest. "When Shawn said I needed to see you, you know you didn't have to dress up for me." And the child's expression became slightly dismal as that dark, chocolate brown gaze fell to the floor in a small act of embarrassment and submission.

"Oh...my..." The man's voice came lithe and breathless in his interest and arousal. "Mr. Mitchell!" He exclaimed almost jovially, his predatory gaze moving from the child to Kris. "You have a live-in, too?! And he's so young and attractive." His voice practically thrummed with lust as Kris burst into a helpless snort of laughter at the child's open discomfort and the blush of his high cheekbones towards the man's insinuation over their working relationship. "Why didn't you tell me?!" And at this Kris' whole body shook with laughter in appreciation and amusement towards the man's antics.

"I didn't want to make you jealous." Kris exclaimed through his laughter as the man began to join in with his own as their mutual gaze fell upon the child.

"What I wouldn't give to place a chain around that collar of his." The man mused through another sputter of amusement from Kris. "And those cheekbones." He continued, purring in appreciation as Kris sat beside himself in amusement, reveling in the myriad of minute emotions playing themselves along the child face, ranging between confusion, duress, and rage. "I bet I could cut myself slapping those cheekbones." His voice came almost indecent as those dark onyx orbs continued to take in the young man in lustful admiration. "How does he feel about bondage, Mr. Mitchell...?" This question floated through laughter as Kris stilled his amusement long enough to respond.

"I really wouldn't know." Kris offered, gaining the man's attention as delicate, well groomed brows furrowed in consideration of this statement.

"So...you two have never...?" The man questioned dubiously with the arch of that well groomed brow.

"No." Kris answered coolly with a smile and the shake of the head.

"Really...?" The man murmured as his gaze flitted between the two men questioningly, more than a little disbelieving towards Kris' response.

"Unlike you, my friend." Kris murmured smoothly with the small twitch of a smile. "I actually have standards." And the man gave a small snort of dismissal at this open insult.

"Then I assume it wouldn't bother you if I had him myself?" This question came with the shift of dark onyx eyes from Kris to the young man, a diabolical simper spreading along the man's lips as he took in the child's wildly rebellious appearance once more.

"Go for it." Kris murmured to the man with a small, malicious smile of his own. "I'd actually love to watch him fuck up that pretty face of yours." And a small string of laughter passed through Kris' lips before it came marred through a sudden surge of hostility.

"Zavali yebalo, golubaya bl'yad." The Russian vulgarity slipped through the child's thin lips in a violent hiss, directed at the man as deep onyx eyes met angry chocolate brown, the child's more submissive nature towards Kris supplanted by sudden rage towards his guest.

The man looked quite perplexed for a moment, his well groomed brows coming to a furrow before his dark gaze drifted back questioningly to Kris.

"Oh yeah..." Kris' voice came passively dismissive of the young man's words. "He does that sometimes."

"What do you want, Kris?" The young man's voice came strained in repressed rage, and Kris' expression became void for a moment towards the child's end to his fun as a small sigh of consideration passed through his nose.

"You're coming into the studio next week, right?" Kris questioned, though the answer was already painfully apparent.

"Yeah." The child murmured, his voice coming far weaker than his rebellious appearance. "Why?" And Kris thought this over for a moment.

"Because I need you to come in tomorrow. I'm pushing up the release date of your album." And in the breath of a moment the young man's expression shifted from dismal submission to one of absolute outrage.

"You can't do that!" The child snapped. "You know we're not ready for that!" And Kris simply offered a small malicious smile to the anticipated onslot of rage.

"That's a damn shame, McCaffery." Kris murmured through his growing smirk of amusement at the child's obvious agitation. "But that really sounds like your problem." And with this statement exotic blue eyes pierced chocolate brown in a moment of tense silence and dominance. "I suggest you don't make it mine." Kris' expression became void once more, not missing the intrigued onyx gaze of the audience he was playing to as he finally deadpanned. "I'll see you tomorrow. Now get the fuck out of my office. I have work to do." And the two men watched in silence as the child stormed his way out of the office

"Ebanatyi pidaraz!" Was the parting scream of a guttural snarl before the door was violently slammed shut, leaving the two men to themselves in a moment of silence as the two stared at the space where the child had been only moments before.

"He's certainly delightful fun, isn't he?" The man mused through a soft smile in the now calmer space as Kris retrieved another cigarette, releasing an almost serene whisper of smoke.

"Yeah." Kris deadpanned in response through another drag of the cigarette. "He's a fucking ray of sunshine." And this caused a small chortle of amusement as onyx eyes met ice blue once more.

"I have to admit that I quite enjoyed observing your...methods...of motivation, Mr. Mitchell." The man's tone came chipper through his approval towards Kris' malicious, intentional antagonism of the child.

"He works better under pressure." Kris offered through a cold stare and veil of smoke, followed by a shrug of indifference.

"Pressure I assume you are all too happy to apply, hm?" The man retorted with a sweet smile as he continued. "So...where were we before we were so deliciously interrupted?" His voice came lithe as the two men effortlessly reengaged their previous conversation.

"You were just about to tell me why you're here."