Declaimer: I do not own this fanfic! All credit goes to Soapz on ! And Ayano-san!

Shot? A Viewfinder Fanfic Brought to you by Soapz!

Okay, so I thought I give it a try. No betas - no nothing. So, read on at your own risk...

Disclaimer: The usual applies: I don't own the boys (yet...) they all belong to Yamane Ayano and I borrowed them for this.

Rating: Will be ADULT ONLY later on - if y'all like it and want me to continue...

Takes place where the last chapter left off - sort of...

Anyhow, this is my first fanfic - so be honest (but in a nice way, maybe?)

Title: Shot? Part 1

"… three bruised rips, several non-threatening hematomas and a gunshot wound. We also expect him to develop a serious cold due to the extended exposure to cold water and the fact that he is underweight by at least ten pounds…"

He tried to blend out the voice from the doctor and stared through the glass at the slender figure on the gurney in the adjoining examination room.

"… 14 stitches, and right now his condition is stable. He is running a fever but that was expected as well…"

Abso-fking-lutely great! After all this time he finally had him back and now this. Yes, there was a God and He must hate him. He was sure about it now. Seeing his brat like this was pure torture. His body covered in bruises – an untold story of the fight he had put up, pale skin that only now started to get a slight pinkish tint again – an improvement to the sickly blue that it was before, his hair damp against his head – lifeless and matt, unmoving like the rest of him.

"… we will now transfer him to the private room and as you requested he will be monitored, but we really don't expect any complications…"

Without saying a word he abruptly turned, following the gurney to the room he had 

specifically requested for Akihito. His bodyguards fell into step right behind him forming a rather unusual procession. Watching the two nurses accompanying Akihito carefully transfer him onto the hospital almost made him give in to the anger and frustration boiling inside of him.

"… this is only a precaution to make sure he won't accidently injure himself. You may be assured though that as soon as it is safe he will be able to rest in more comfortable position…"

He forced himself to stay calm, unmoving and it took every ounce of his will-power to not kill everyone who touched his boy while he was forced to keep his hands to himself. Clenching and unclenching his hands in his coat pockets he made himself take several deep breaths. Finally he turned to the doctor, his trademark poker-face back in place:

"Thank you, Dr. Yamaguchi. I appreciate your coming here on such a short notice to take care of Akihito."

"This is the least I can do, Asami-sama. Your boy is still under sedation and due to the fever he will probably be more or less unaware of his surroundings for the next couple of days, but by the end of the week the worst should be over."

A curt nod was all he was able to do. He was afraid of moving lest he would do something he would regret later. His pet was hurt and there was just no way he could… no! He had to stop thinking about what he wanted to do to him – no, needed to do to him. How he would run his hands over his body, reacquainting himself with every inch of his delectable skin, how he would use his tongue to tease him into the frenzy of moans he usually elicited from him, how he would make him plead and beg for more only to deny him over and over again…

Sweat started to form on his forehead and he instinctively suppressed the urge to wipe it. Never show weakness! He turned back to look once more at his pet… big mistake. He almost lost it right there. The nurses had Akihito propped up on a special pillow to keep the pressure off his wound and being forced to look at him like this was physical pain. He had to get out of there. Now. Before he did the unthinkable.

"Akira. You will stay with him and keep me informed. I have to take care of a couple of small matters and will be back later."

He forced himself to turn away from the bed and walked towards the door. He needed a cigarette and a drink. Maybe more than a drink.


Akira nodded and took up a position in the corner of the room that allowed him to remain out of sight of whoever entered, yet see everyone before they saw him. He watched as Asami and Keita left the room and sighed in frustration. He knew what they were about to do and he desperately wanted to be part of it. As much as he got to like the photographer over time, babysitting wasn't really in his job-description. He sat down on the chair, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at the still form of the boy on the bed and even though he felt sorry for what the kid had to go through; he nevertheless felt a smile forming on his face: of all the places to get shot…