Title: Pink
Pairing: AsamixAkihito
Rating: NC-17
A.N.- This piece of crack (with a dash of smut) is brought to you by the Aerosmith song "Pink". I think I listened to it one too many times, and this is but further proof that Viewfinder has eaten my brain. My mind truly has gone it seems. ^__^; *flees*
Disclaimer: These lovely boys belong to Yamane Ayano. No profit was made from this.
Pink
By: shad0wg8
"No! Asami! NO!" Akihito shrieked as he saw what the man had laid out on the bed. He twisted frantically in the large man's grip, obviously distressed, and desperate to get away. The young man continued to flail as Asami hoisted him up over one broad shoulder to carry him the rest of the way. While Asami was occupied carrying him, Akihito brought his wrists up to his mouth and tore into the knotted tie with his teeth. He felt Asami chuckle seconds before he yelped as a stinging slap was delivered to his ass.
"Behave Akihito."
"No! You can't do this! Anything but this Asami! Please…" Akihito babbled anxiously.
He was dropped to the bed, further protests cut off as his breath was forced out in a harsh grunt from the impact. Before he could gather his senses, the photographer was flipped onto his stomach and stripped of the rest of his clothes. Naked and completely exposed he continued to struggle, cursing the older man.
"I warned you there would be consequences," Asami murmured, holding Akihito down with one hand while he reached for what he had laid out with the other.
*****
Half an hour later, after a battle of epic proportions that involved much screaming and cursing and flailing, Akihito found himself bound once again and standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling mirror. He kept his eyes fixed on the carpet, refusing to look up, trembling in the older man's grip.
"I hate you," he whispered ferverently.
"But it suits you so well," Asami commented in a silky, sultry tone, grabbing Akihito's chin and forcing it up. "Look."
The photographer blushed furiously and scowled when he saw his reflection. He wished he was seeing red, but all he could see was… pink. Lace and ruffles and silk, all in a delicate shade of pink. Pink shoes, pink stockings, pink everything. There was even a pink ribbon in his hair and a pink choker wrapped snuggly around his throat with a ruby set in gold dangling from it. Akihito could almost swear he was starring at a female version of himself everything fit him so well, too well; the snug dress that flared over his hips and gave the illusion of womanly curves, moderately heeled pumps that accentuated his long, supple legs… Even the bodice of the dress was fitted in a way to hide the fact that he didn't have a chest.
"Bastard."
"Indeed, I am. We've been over that before I believe. However… we have a reservation for seven."
"What?" Akihito practically screeched, eyes going impossibly wide. "You don't expect me to actually go out in this… D-do you?"
The barest hint of a smile curved Asami's lips and Akihito felt his stomach flip unpleasantly.
"Come, we don't want to be late," Asami said smoothly, ushering the stunned photographer out of the room with little resistance.
*****
Akihito found himself in the back seat of Asami's limo by the time he finally snapped out of his shock. He was surprised to find his wrists free and instantly went on the offensive, glancing warily at the man seated next to him.
"I refuse to go along with whatever you have planned," Akihito said haughtily, his jaw set obstinately as irritation followed quickly on the heels of suspicion.
"When this car stops, you will get out on your own Akihito, or I will drag you out," Asami promised, his eyes dancing with mischief as he continued. "Kicking and screaming if that's the way you want it. I'm sure the guests would enjoy the show, not to mention the view."
"W-what?" Akihito questioned uneasily, the look in Asami's eyes making him squirm.
"I doubt that dress would cover much with you slung over my shoulder, your cute behind sticking up in the air," Asami drawled, watching Akihito's face as it slowly dawned on the younger man.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh, I most certainly would," Asami smirked, leaning in close. "And with you wearing those lacy-"
"Shut up!" Akihito snapped, cutting the older man off before he could finish. Asami's eyes practically glowed with satisfaction. It was all Akihito could do to keep himself from flying into a tantrum. That was exactly what the man wanted, and he refused to play that game tonight.
"I get it. I'll behave."
"Good."
*****
Akihito kept his eyes to the pavement as he took Asami's offered hand and stepped out of the backseat. He immediately found himself pulled snuggly against Asami's side, a strong arm wrapped comfortably around his waist. His cheeks became unbearably warm at the intimate gesture, his previous anger quickly fleeing. He could feel eyes following him as he was led to the entrance of the elegant establishment. Nervous and embarrassed, Akihito was visibly relieved when the maître d' showed them to a private room. His posture relaxed and he let out a sigh of relief, only to tense again as Asami pulled out his seat. He bit back the scathing remark he wanted to throw in the man's face and sat down, allowing the older man to help him push in his chair.
Akihito ignored Asami and the waiter who entered, studying his surroundings as the older man murmured something to the coat-tailed server. The décor was done in shades of mauve and burgundy, giving it a soft romantic atmosphere. And it was pink. What the hell was up with Asami and pink tonight? Was the man trying to tell him something? He blinked as a large crystal glass filled with crimson liquid was placed on the table in front of him. His glaze flicked to Asami, eyes narrowing in suspicion. So that was the man's game; to get him drunk.
"That's low even for you Asami."
"Pardon?"
"I know what you're up to, and it's not going to work," Akihito explained, pushing his glass of wine away from him and to the side.
"And just what am I up to Akihito?"
"Damn it Asami, stop playing games!" The photographer snapped his mouth shut and tried to smooth his features as the waiter returned with a platter of hors d'oeuvres*, setting them lightly on the table before leaving again. The silky material of his skirt crumpled in his fists as he tried to calm down and not lose his head. He refused to make a further fool of himself. Bad enough that he was dressed like a woman and being treated to dinner like some high-class lady.
Asami watched Akihito in amusement as the photographer silently struggled with his temper, enjoying the look of consternation on the boy's beautifully expressive face.
"Akihito."
The soft rumble of Asami's voice snapped the younger man out of his internal battle fast enough to give him whiplash. That tone could mean only one thing. He was doomed.
A bite size little cracker topped with some kind of white spread, a thin sliver of salmon, and a sprig of dill was presented to him. He hesitated before opening his mouth and allowing Asami to slip the little morsel past his lips. The older man's eyes lit up with satisfaction and he picked up another canapé*, this time topped with prosciutto*. After feeding the second piece to Akihito, Asami sat back and watched him chew then swallow. The photographer shifted uneasily as Asami continued to stare at him, knowing what the man wanted but reluctant to do it. He finally caved in under the man's intent gaze, picking up what looked like a tiny pancake* topped with caviar. Raising it to Asami's lips, he felt his face heat up as he imagined what he must look like; bent across the small table, hand raised to offer the man the small treat, Asami leaning further back and forcing Akihito to bend over further.
He couldn't control the little shiver that raced down his spine like quicksilver when Asami's lips brushed against fingers, his tongue sneaking out to lick the remains of caviar off his fingers. The photographer quickly snatched his hand away, shoving both of them under the table before Asami got any more ideas. He stared fixedly at the linen covered tabletop, his bangs falling over to shadow his eyes. The meal arrived soon after and he continued to keep his head down, refusing to even acknowledge that the other man was there. If he could ignore Asami then he could ignore his emotions, and what the man did to those emotions.
He nearly fell out of his seat when a large, warm hand suddenly settled on his knee. It gave a soft squeeze before sliding up his thigh, coming to rest at the hem of his skirt, a thumb rubbing small little circles on the inside of his thigh. He opened his mouth to protest and choked on his remark when he saw the waiter standing to Asami's left. Holding a sample tray of desserts. Akihito's eyes sparkled when he saw the sugary pastries, Asami's groping hand pushed to the back of his mind.
Asami chuckled at his boy's reaction. Typical Akihito.
"See anything you like?" he asked teasingly, motioning towards the platter. He followed Akihito's line of sight and smiled to himself. Turning to the waiter he declined on dessert for himself, but ordered the strawberry tart for his "guest". As soon as the tart was set down in front of him, Akihito reached for his spoon, only to have it snatched away.
"Why…?"
Asami scooted his chair closer to Akihito until their knees were touching, before scooping up a bit of the confection and holding it to his lips. Akihito stared at him uncertainly, not quite sure what Asami's game was this time. Opening his mouth slightly, he allowed himself to be feed, feeling uncomfortable and more than a bit embarrassed. He couldn't help the soft little moan that escaped at the combination of the tart's flavor and Asami's hand sliding up to caress his thigh again.
"S-stop it," he protested weakly, shoving the man away as his hand continued to inch higher, sliding up under the hem of his dress and showing no signs of stopping any time soon. Asami placed the spoon on the table and leaned forward, sliding a knee between Akihito's. His other hand reached up to grab a handful of the boy's hair as he pulled him into kiss. His tongue caressed the photographer's bottom lip before slipping into his mouth and exploring. He pulled back after a few minutes, nibbling on the swollen lips as his hand kneaded the boy's hip. Akihito made a weak sound of protest as Asami finally pulled completely away.
"Asami…"
"I think it's time for us to head home," the older man murmured, helping Akihito to his feet and ushering the dazed boy back out of the restaurant and into the backseat of the waiting limo.
*****
A rather disheveled Akihito stumbled out of the limo when they reached the penthouse, grabbing onto Asami's arm to steady himself. Inside the elevator, he found himself once again being molested by skillful hands and a hot tongue. He was dizzy from all the sudden stopping and starting when the elevator doors slid open and he found himself dragged down the short hallway. As soon as they were in the door, Akihito found himself pressed up against the hard wooden surface as Asami devoured his mouth hungrily. A thigh came up between his legs to rub against his groin and he felt his knees go weak.
"C-can't… anymore," he managed to gasp out as Asami's mouth traveled down his throat, stopping to suck and nibble at a particularly sensitive spot.
"Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on," Asami ordered gruffly, pressing Akihito into the door and shifting his weight to hold the younger man. Akihito did as he was told, moaning as he felt Asami's large cock press against his ass through the thin layer of lace; his skirt long since bunched up around his waist. Asami quickly shoved the little panties down, a slick finger teasing against Akihito's entrance before he slowly began to work it inside. He grunted as Akihito's hands dug into his arms, the boy squirming in his grip as he worked a second finger in.
"Asami, Asami please," Akihito begged, his voice strained and rising in pitch. The older man consented, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself at Akihito's entrance; then he let gravity do the rest. Asami watched, enraptured, as Akihito melted in pleasure, his thick member slowly sliding into the boy's tight heat. He sighed in satisfaction once he was fully inside and gripped the photographer's hips in warning. Akihito clung to him as Asami began to move, starting out with slow, deep thrusts. It wasn't long before his pace quickened, and Akihito found himself slammed into the door as Asami fucked him senseless. His hands clawed at Asami's back as he writhed helplessly, the satiny material of his garment rubbing against his sensitized nipples and teasing his throbbing, aching cock. He desperately wanted to thrust down onto the hot, slick organ penetrating him but couldn't find any leverage to do so. He was forced to cling to the older man and endure, feeling the heat and pleasure build to unbearable levels.
He screamed as he came, the world fading out to a dull buzz as euphoria coursed through his veins. When he came back down, Asami was panting against his neck, the arms holding him up trembling slightly.
"P-put me down," Akihito whispered, leaning heavily against the older man when his feet touched the floor. A strong hand tilted his chin up and he blushed when he looked into the desire laden stare. Asami broke eye contact and leaned in, pressing his lips to Akihito's ear. The boy shivered as hot breath slipped down his neck, his cock twitching in response to Asami's low voice whispering against his ear. He nodded his compliance and allowed himself to be led to the bed room.
Maybe pink wasn't so bad after all.
~Hm, and wouldn't well all just love to know what Asami whispered in Akihito's ear?
Glossary (for anyone that's interested or doesn't know what I'm talking about :-P):
*Hors d'oeuvre- Small savory appetizers served before the meal.
*Canapé- Small, decorative pieces of bread (toasted or untoasted) that are topped with savory garnish.
*Prosciutto- Italian for "ham". It is a term broadly used to describe a ham that has been seasoned, salt-cured (but not smoked) and air-dried. The meat is pressed, which produces a firm, dense texture. Italy's Parma Ham is the true prosciutto, although others are now made in the U.S.
*The "tiny pancake" referred to here is called blini, which are small yeast-raised pancakes that are traditionally made with buckwheat flour.