Disclaimer: You damn well know I own nothing, that's why I am writing and posting here.
Akihito maintained the fetal-position that he was in, long after Asami had left his apartment.
That –fucking- Bastard! Akihito thought
This - latest punishment -was the fucking straw that broke the camel's back. Another fifteen minutes would pass before Akihito was able to crawl to his bathroom on his side, only then did he realize that he was crying. He quickly and carefully wiped away his tears.
The arsehole did not deserve his tears, when more watery fluid kept falling Akihito settled the argument with himself by claiming these tears were for his past self (the naive boy, who thought he could help the devil find his heart )and not for some rapist bastard.
How could he do this to me?The young photographer wondered.
Am I really just a pet?Is that all that he sees when he looks at me?
"I am a man god dammit!" the young man muttered to his mirrored reflection.
What Akihito felt was beyond description. He felt thoroughly beaten and he realised he had the physical (and emotional though he would not acknowledge it) evidence to prove it.
How the hell had they got here? More importantly he mused; it was time to get out. He would lay low for now and then when he was fit enough he would make his move.
Akihito raised a hand to examine his battered face and carefully caressed his swollen eye; he would need more ice than he had in his fridge to stop the swelling. Never again Akihito made the promise to himself.
Asami dismissed the guard on duty; he wanted no company in the mood he was in as he close the front door to his penthouse.
He had a headache. Well not quite a head-ache but definitely an ache of some sort. He subconsciously rubbed a hand over his left male breast.
Nothing a tumbler of Jack Daniels couldn't fixhe thought to himself.
After his fourth glass he began to think out loud to himself. "God damn Brat, who did he think he was messing with? Didn't know when to stop that was Asa...Akihito's-he corrected himself- problem."
This was like all their other fights. But on this occasion Akihito needed to be burnt so the lesson would finally stick in that hard head of his. He would give his pet a few days while he –Asami- calmed down before he checked in on him.
Three days had passed before Akihito felt able to carry out his plan, he couldn't believe what he was about to do, but he comforted himself he had found his resolve.
Asami had gone too far and it was time he- Akihito- played his wild card.
His intentions were not to get Asami's attention, (in fact he needed Asami distracted for 24 hrs and that was the only reason he planned on showing "his hand" to the crime lord). He was past caring about Asami's wrath, his actions was for one purpose only, their game of tag had come to an end and Akihito by anonymously dropping incriminating shots of Asami into Japan Metropolitan Police Department, knew he would get the head start he needed.
Akihito wasn't a fool he knew a well connected monst..."man" like Asami had enough money, skill and connection to beat the rap. But still this act of his was not about vengeance.
He was not a disgruntled lover- ha! He wasn't even a lover at all.
No real lover could be punished the way Asami punished him, beside punishment were for criminals and children, of which he was neither.
His actions, was a message to his once respected rival – he was leaving the poker table indefinitely. Asami would view his behaviour as an act of betrayal and would either wash is hand of him or he would kill him. Either of these consequences was something the young man firmly had come to believe he was ready for.
Akihito took one final look around his apartment, turned off the lights and opened his door and fainted when he was met with a pair of deadly golden eyes.
Asami caught the young man in his arms. He was a bit taken aback by the look on the photographer's face before he passed out.
His boy had looked completely shell shocked to see him there as if he Asami didn't belong at his front door - ever.
Akihito always had that affect on him. From their vey first meeting the photographer could always manage to surprise him.
Like his latest action. Asami was asleep when he got a call from Agent Takanawa telling him that due to an anonymous patron they [The Metropolitan Police] had some sensitive photogenic data on him. Asami never opening his eyes had thanked the agent and negotiated a price for the safe return of said 'sensitive information'. He had given Souh the task of its retrieval and had gone back to bed for an additional 3 hours.
It was ten o'clock when the daily report of his lover's whereabouts and doings graced his breakfast table. After he had flipped through it he thought he would pay a visit to his Akihito tonight after work.
Asami had merely assumed that Akihito his star pupil was still sulking and needed to be taught another lesson. But when he read in the report that the photographer had sold his token vintage Agfa camera that his father had left him; Asami became somewhat uneasy. He had order his men to purchase it at whatever the cost and have it wrapped and delivered to his office at Club Sion.
As he removed the young man's jacket, Akihito's passport with a ticket to Alaska fell out. Cradling the photographer in his arms he stepped into the young man's apartment and switch on the lights.
Where were Akihito's things?
He had read the report on the young man, beside from selling his father's camera there was nothing out of the ordinary.
But his lover's apartment was bare.
He took off his jacket and made it into a pillow so he could momentarily release his hold on his Aki while he did his own investigation.
The apartment itself was unusually clean, the fridge was empty. There was no sheet on the bed, no garbage in the dustbin. It didn't make sense, even if Akihito was going away on a job he never cleaned up like this. He usually got one of his friends to watch the apartment. Asami moved to where he left the photographer and opened the young man's passport. The ticket to Alaska was one way.
All his tolerance and patience evaporated in that millisecond.
He shook the young man awake and growled out
"Akihito where the fuck did you think you were going!"
Although Akihito had regained consciousness he lay there silent with his eyes shut. If he was about to die, he would bite is own tongue and swallow it before he opened his eyes and let the bastard see how much he had broken his heart and abused his trust.
He would not cry because the man might probably get a 'hard on' off his misery and that could only lead to Asami repeatedly fucking him before his demise.
No he had made up his mind- he would play dead until e was dead.
Asami shook the photographer again; he knew the young man was conscious so why wasn't he responding.
Was something wrong with him?
Asami's mind suddenly transported him back to the events of 3 days prior when he kicked open the photographer's front door causing it to hit the photographer in his face. In all fairness he had warned Akihito that he wouldn't like it if he didn't open the door.
Stubborn to the end the boy had ignored him. He didn't give Akihito anytime to recover from the initial door to face. He had simply dragged him by the labels to his bed, torn the cut off jeans from his hips and ripped the shirt off his chest. He had then fucked him without reserve, lube and mercy for the next 6 hrs. He had then deleted the photos from his Sony Alpha DSLR-A900 and broke the camera into unrecognisable pieces.
Asami knew it had taken his pet 2 years to save up to purchase the camera and he hoped by destroying it beyond repair Akihito would understand the consequences of involving himself in Asami's business. It meant gambling on the things that had more than material or monetary value. When the boy still had enough energy to say something about his mother's c$%*, Asami had flip him over and brought his hand down upon the photographers already abused ass repeatedly until he Asami had worked up a sweat and Akihito had passed out.
Asami realised that he had to take a step back from Akihito now and he did. He was angry.
He said after a minute or two
"Akihito you are MINE. I do not care if you are mad or even if you have temporarily lost your mind, you belong to me, you cannot leave and when you try as you have done now, it only makes me want to take away the little freedom I have given you up until now."
Akihito's breathing began to hitch but his eyes remained closed.
Akihito thought this is it, he is going to kill me now.
"Since you cannot be trusted to behave I have no choice left than to take care of you myself."
Akihito's heart skipped a beat as he listened to Asami's 1000 dollar Italian shoes as it made it's way over to him. He felt Asami's body lean over his, when Asami's hand made contact with his head Akihito gave up and abandon his resolve and opened his eyes. Asami body froze. Asami's eyes had locked with Akihito's and he was surprised to see fear, real live fear in his lover's eyes, mix with defeat and hurt.
Asami had always admired the way his lover's eyebrows co operated with his eyes perfectly to demonstrate his defiance, passion or happiness. This was the first time Asami was seeing defeat and fear locked into those hazel orbs and it clawed at his conscience because he knew without a doubt he had put that look there.
He admitted to himself he had taken the latest punishment too far but he would not let Akihito know this.
Akihito's eyes were unblinking and it began to unnerve Asami, they must have stayed transfixed in each other's gaze for a full five minutes before Akihito said
"Enough Asami, you have won, you have beaten me, now finish it."
Not understanding the ramblings of the photographer Asami asked with a smirk "Finish what my cute Akihito?"
Too weak to even rise to the insulting and playful tease in Asami voice Akihito whispered his reply "Finish me... now... please"
Ignoring the strange finality in the boy's tone
Asami lifted up Akihito's head removed his jacket and took out the package and placed it on the photographer's chest.
Having run out of patience with Asami's game and with much annoyance the photographer savagely threw the package against the wall, whatever was in there was now -broken.
The young man devoid of emotion hoped whatever it was, was broken beyond repair.
Asami hissed out with too much emotion for Akihito's liking, "You little fool! Do you know what you have done?"
When Akihito's eyes latched on to the misshaped package his heart painfully restricted. He grasped at his chest.
But why?
Not aware of his own actions Akihito crawled to the package and carefully ripped it open and watched with horrific unbelieving eyes as his father's camera falls out in pieces, some on his lap and some on the floor.
It had taken the photographer two restless days of indecision to come to the conclusion that by selling the camera to escape Asami, his father would understand, he had even taken less money for what the camera was worth under the agreement that it wouldn't be sold if he could buy it back within a month.
Akihito turned to Asami and screamed.
Tears ran openly down his face, his eyes were dilated, He cried, in frustration and in pain with every gasp for air. Every hiccup was drench with a pronounced disbelief at what he had lost.
Taking a deep shuddering breath he screamed again this time twice as loud. Spit ran down the side of his mouth but he made no move to wipe it, the photographer cried without shame or care.
His action causes him to fall forward onto some of the broken pieces of his most treasured object as the sharp uneven pieces pierce his pale haunted skin they draw blood from the broken young man.
Akihito took another breath letting out another gut wrenching scream. The photographer can produce no words while his body shakes from the harsh painful sobs brought about by his loss.
My notes
This is another NO LONGER A one shot. I purposely concluded the fic on Akihito's perspective, I think Asami deserves to have no voice at the end and Akihito wants no comfort from him. If you disagree I will be glad to hear your opinion.
As always correction and critiques welcome. I apologise for any grammatical errors.