Title: Pompeii
Summary: Asami comes home smelling of strong perfume. After raising hell, Takaba decides to investigate the situation on his own. All it costs is the destruction of one expensive suit jacket.
Author's note: Don't laugh at me when I say this, but I was listening to Keke Palmers "We Are". And on a side note, a serious side note, what's up with the guest trolls? I was used to hate guest reviews, and really don't care anymore, but I couldn't help but notice on another story (by a different author), people were just being little bitches. Honesty, if you don't like a genre, then why would you read it? If you don't like Fem!Takaba if you don't like angsty stories, funny stories, then why would you read them? Are guest trolls really that dumb, do they say "I'm gonna read this story even if it's a genre I don't like an i'm gonna be an asshole!" Honestly, the only people you make look stupid are yourselves. Grow the hell up and do something, go get your life instead of making things harder for people that your jealous of. Hell, I don't see you all writing stories, so don't go decide to troll someone elses.
Now to the story. I wrote it because honestly, "Caged" is sad, and well...i'd like to write something happy for a change in addition to that story. So I hope you all get a laugh out of this!
"You're back early." Takaba jumped when he heard the door open as he stood by the stove. "What's wrong?"
Asami removed his over coat and placed it on the rack. "Nothing." His voice was stoic as he kindly gazed at Takaba. "Why, did you miss me?" A sadistic smile made way to his face causing Takaba to roll his eyes and turn around.
"As if. I'm kind'a mad actually. It's always fun with you gone, I have the whole place to myself." Takaba felt Asami standing behind him, literally breathing down his back.
"Is that so?" Asami breathed softly into Takaba's ear, wrapping his arms around the younger man's body and pulling him into a forced embrace.
"I'm busy! Let go!" And as usual, Takaba tried to struggle and break free but Asami's grip never subsided. As he attempted to keep cooking , Asami trailed his lips down Takaba's neck, along his exposed shoulder and then finally, on Takaba's own tender lips. By this time, it was nearly impossible for him to continue his chore as he grudgingly surrendered to his lover's embrace. "I'm cooking...lunch is going to burn."
"Lunch can wait." He chuckled. "That "house wife" attitude of yours," Asami breathed softly, in a low voice. "Turns me on."
You turn me on just being here. Takaba thought, as he felt his body react the way it always did in Asami's presence. Like a kitten cuddling with its master, Takaba couldn't find the strength to pull way from the man he was so attracted to. By now, he had turned around to get the full affect of Asami's powerful, dominating kiss. Like always, the moment was undeniably perfect. The passionate atmosphere that captivated Takaba swept him off his feet as Asami closed in on him, causing him to lean backwards with his back awkwardly pressed up against the kitchen counter.
Takaba inhaled Asami's scent. That rich scent, exclusive cologne, luxurious shampoo, the sweet scent of expensive perfume...wait...what?
Takaba's eyes shot open as he broke the kiss and somehow, spun our of Asami's grasp and ended up behind him. Angrily, he pointed an accusing finger at Asami. "You smell like a woman!"
Silence ensued as Asami stared at him with a devilish grin. All the while, Takaba stood in the same position, feeling dumber and dumber with every second that went by. His accusation was summoned on a whim, and by now, he had no idea how he'd respond to Asami's reasoning. He let his arm fall back down.
"Are you jealous?" Asami spoke, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed.
"Jealous?" Takaba was certain, the look on his face made him look like idiot. A twisted smile and a twitching smile, anyone would've taken him for a fool. "Of you! Ha!" Takaba beamed. "As if!"
"Then why are you so worked up?" Asami smiled and approached the troubled Takaba. "You're even sweating."
"No...get back!" It was impossible to push Asami away, but Takaba tried anyway.
"It's just that you stink!" That stopped Asami, momentarily.
"So smelling like a women, makes me stink?"
"See! You even acknowledged it! You smell like a women_"
"So women stink?"
Silence.
"No! Just, agh! Go take a shower! You smell like smoke and flowers!"
Asami chuckled. "There's no need for you to get worked up." He smiled as he made way to the living room. "But I prefer you like this."
OoOoOoO
Asami showered upon Takaba's request and later that night, came down to eat dinner. Takaba made sure not to be as offensive as he was earlier and like he usually did, tried to ignore Asami. This only resulted in teasing, kissing, groping, and then the inevitable.
After wards, Asami fell asleep instantly. Takaba however, stayed awake. He never could find himself falling asleep right after an intercourse or their instances of intense passion. It was just a feeling that kept him awake, a sensation in the pit of his stomach that either filled him with happiness or confusion. Tonight however, Takaba was kept up with the anger boiling inside of him. The very thought that Asami was with, well , someone else set Takaba off. He knew it was petty, feeling this way about him, so possessive. But it was Asami's fault in the long run, an frankly, Takaba wasn't that affected by it.
Takaba stared at the ceiling, feeling his anger grow ever stronger. Did this "woman", touch Asami the same way he did? Did Asami touch this woman the same way he touched Takaba? Who was she...what was she ? An actress, another a lover...anything. Takaba couldn't fathom anything that would give him any evidence or closure ...anything except perhaps, Asami's suit jacket.
OoOoOo
Asami usually left the jacket he wore that day, hanging over the living room arch chair. Takaba had no trouble sneaking out of bed and making his way to the living room, and taking the jacket in his hands. After a few seconds, he started to go through all the pockets, trying to find something. However, much to his dismay, there was nothing. He wasn't surprised that Asami was more organized than he was when it came to not placing things in his pockets.
Still, Takaba sniffed the jacket up and down smelling not only Asami's scent, but another strange one as well...the woman's perfume. Angrily, Takaba gripped the jacket and hurled it through the living room window that led into the kitchen. He would not have been so concerned, if he had not heard something else fall down.
Crap...crap...crap...
He rushed into the kitchen and much to his dismay, not only was the suit jacket on the kitchen floor, sprawled out, dirty, but a bottle of wine had fallen on it, opened and spilled on it –red wine.. Takaba quickly scampered over to the large jacket and picked it up. No doubt it was soiled, as drips of red wine fell from it, leaving an ugly spot on the kitchen floor.
Thinking quickly, Takaba tossed the jacket on the counter and rushed to the closet, withdrawing cleaning materials. Within seconds, the kitchen floor was clean, however, the jacket was still soiled. For a while, Takaba mused on tossing it in the washer machine, but the fear that Asami would wake up and see his precious coat messy, canceled that idea out.
It was 3:49 am, and Takaba knew of a washateria about thirty minutes outside of Shinjuku. It was a twenty four hour business, as Takaba used to go there frequently when living in his apartment. A wash normally took thirty minutes, but for a suit jacket, that usually went to the cleaners, Takaba wasn't sure.
Regardless, he had to get this situation fixed by morning. So, going upstairs and cleaning his face, Takaba quietly made way to the bed room where, surprisingly, Asami was still asleep. He quickly took the older man's robe from the closet and draped it over him. Placing on his shoes and sweat pants, Takaba made his way out of the room to retrieve the jacket.
OoOoOoO
Needless to say, it was rather difficult, catching a cab to drive to the washateria, but regardless Takaba got there just a few minutes after he expected. He didn't waste any time when tossing the jacket into one of the washer machines. Placing his money in the slot, he turned it on and watched as it was submerged in water. Seconds later, he found himself sitting down, reading a magazine and looking around him.
Thank the Lord, he wasn't the only person who decided to wash their clothes at four in the morning, as other people, wearing pajamas just like him, walked idly around the washateria. There were people around his age, or just a few years younger. Most likely college or older highschool students who lived in apartments with no means of buying their own washer machines. This made Takaba feel better and inwardly, he felt like he could still hold on to the life he thought he'd lost a while ago. Living with Asami clustered him with the luxurious arrogant crowd, and he even felt that during this time, he was losing himself. But now, being here, seeing people just like him, he kind of remembered where he belonged, where he came from.
Takaba's washer buzzed signifying that he needed to bring the jacket to the dryer. He took it out of the machine and smelled it. Unsurprisingly, it smelt fresh and clean like detergent. Quickly, Takaba rushed over the dryer and tossed it in there. And then, for another thirty minutes, just walked around, bought some candy at the concession and a soda from the machine. He then made way to the shabby arcade and decide to watch a few teens play an air hockey game.
His fifteen minutes passed and he slowly made way to the dryer.
He opened the door, letting the warm heat blow on his face causing him to grow tired. Quickly, he reached a hand inside and tried to grab the jacket. However, the more he felt, the more he realized that there was nothing there. His eyes opened wide.
Did someone steal it?
He stuck his head in the dryer and looked around for the jacket in painful anticipation. After feeling around for a few seconds, his finger tips rested on a thick cloth. He took hold of it and pulled it out of the dryer and much to his dismay, it was Asami's suit jacket—but it had shrunken, drastically. No longer was it the thick, heavy suit jacket meant for someone as broad and as powerful as Asami, but a small one perhaps meant for a baby to wear or even Alvin and the rest of his chipmunks.
"No..no...no..." Takaba muttered as he held Alvin's suit jacket in his hand. "This isn't happening!" Takaba angrily threw the jacket once again and this time, it landed in a trashcan. Grunting, he made way to the can and pulled the jacket out, dusting all garbage off it. It still stank...
How was he going to explain this to Asami?
OoOoOoOo
After winning a street fight, catching a cheap cap, and placing Alvin/Asami's jacket in his robe pocket, Takaba finally made way back to the penthouse and grumpily fell back in the bed and curled up next to Asami. The Crime Lord hadn't realized his absence, but that didn't ease Takaba's nerves any more.
OoOoOo
The next morning, Takaba made breakfast while Asami got ready. There was a stiffness about Takaba when he heard Asami rustling in the bedroom, looking for something...the suit jacket perhaps. Takaba still had it in his robe (actually Asami's robe) that still rested on his small frame.
When Asami came to the kitchen, Takaba already had a plate ready for him. "Good morning, Asami! Breakfast is ready!"
Asami rose a curious eye brow. "You seem excited this morning."
"Yeah..." Takaba manged, placing the plate on the table and itching his head. "I overreacted yesterday, sorry about that!"
Asami chuckled. "Don't apologize. You were within rights to do so." He gave Takaba a soft smile. "On the topic however, have you seen my jacket?"
Takaba's heart constricted. "Um..erm_"
"To ease your nerves, the jacket smelled the way it did simply because another client, who reeked strongly of perfume, had a short meeting with me yesterday. It was cut short, and we're continuing it this morning. And yes, she was a woman." He sighed. "My jacket had and important document in one of the hidden pockets. It would be a pity if I lost it. Have you seen it, Takaba?"
The photographer paled but stepped forward. "Um..." He reached into his pocket, retrieving Alvin/Asami's jacket and holding it before him, he spoke. "I've got something to tell you."
As Asami stared, his glare was nothing short of disapproval.
Washateria, is an American term which is basically a small building filled with washer machines, dryer machines, concession stands, TV's, and arcades. Trust me though, it's not as fun as it sounds.
Alvin is a reference from the franchise Alvin and the chipmunks.
Hope you enjoyed this funny story from me as of now, I head to advisory then physics, SAT prey then Spanish. Adios Amigos! And I don't own the finder series.
Always, let's prat for MH370, and anyone else who is having problems!