Author's Note: Good evening, or to some, good morning! Welcome to chapter 2! Today a new character appears! I hope you enjoy.
PS. Thank you so far for your reviews! It means so much to me! Read, review, and check out junjobingo on tumblr!
TWO
After two hours of meandering around the shops, Misaki decided it was only fair that he went back to the apartment - plus, the glaze on his donuts was beginning to melt as the sun made its ascent into the summer air. Back through the lobby, up the elevator, and down the hall, all the way to the man's apartment that was apparently empty because Misaki wasn't throttled the second he stepped through the door.
"Usagi-san?" he called out for good measure.
Nothing.
Misaki shrugged, set his donuts on the counter, and went to see if there was anything on the television (Akihiko refused to allow Misaki full access to his favourite historical television dramas after the boy had made a fatal comment about one of the actresses being pretty, so to watch TV was a rare treat).
As Misaki started to sink deep into the sofa, he could feel himself beginning to relax. Akihiko was nowhere to be found after a whole hour. He's probably sulking. Or trying to hunt me down. Please God, please don't tell me he's harassing my friends! He glanced over at Suzuki-san, who was sitting next to him - the bear's pair of beady eyes were staring at him with what he imagined was a sympathetic twinge, as if to apologize for his master's unruly behaviour.
Misaki took another donut from the box that was open on the coffee table (what number was he on again? Five?) and stuffed his mouth with a satisfied sigh. He wondered how long Akihiko would be gone. Probably forever, Misaki thought, amused.
He imagined having the apartment all to himself for the rest of his life...no molestation, no hollering, no being bossed around for the rest of his life. He glanced around the empty room and smiled. First off, I'd get rid of that stupid train set in the bedroom and actually dust the place.
Caught in a fantasy of breaking into Usagi-san's bank account to renovate the kitchen to resemble the same one in THE KAN (if he really wanted to do it, he always knew where the man kept all his banking pin numbers), Misaki didn't even notice when the doorbell rang. In fact, he didn't notice it until the second ring. "I'll get it!" Misaki called out to the empty apartment, by force of habit, and began heading to the door...then he starting thinking and his heart dropped and he stopped in his tracks. With that thought, he even took a few steps backward. Shit, Usagi-san is probably home.
He wanted to hide or cry. Or throw himself off the balcony.
Oh God. He was in real trouble. He knew what Akihiko would do to him - something horribly embarrassing and mentally scarring and probably perverted. He ran through a list of things Akihiko had yet to do to him - sex in car, check; sex in water, check; sex against window, check - and suddenly his stomach turned. Oh God he's going to try to have sex with me outside!
He had to get out. Fast.
But while he was devising an escape plan, the other side of his brain was doing a little more thinking, and finally a small voice in his head reminded him that Akihiko would never wait outside the door if he had his own set of keys.
Remember this is his apartment.
Oh. Right. Who would ring the doorbell to their own apartment?
He sighed, relieved, and continued his way to the door, half chuckling to himself, half thanking the gods it was just a false alarm. When he opened the door he was pleased and whatever left over panic that was tingling in his throat was washed down with a wave of relief - no Usagi-san. In fact, he didn't even know the unfamiliar face who was staring down at him, curiously. Misaki blinked. "Erm, hello?"
He wasn't trying to be rude. It was just that Akihiko rarely had guests - the only people Misaki had ever seen round the apartment in fact were Isaka, Aikawa, and Kamijou.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the man said, turning his gaze downward sheepishly. "This is quite a surprise though. I was told that Usami Akihiko lives here."
"No, you're right!" Misaki replied, pleasantly. "He does live here. He's just not in now." Actually, he's probably stomping around the city like Godzilla - I'm surprised you didn't notice (or hear) him out there...
"Oh...what a shame. When will he be around again?" the young man inquired.
"Umm, he kind of comes and goes...so I'm not certain," he replied. He turned his gaze to the floor, grumbling underneath his breath, "He's a maniac, so who actually knows?"
There was a pause. The man didn't seem satisfied though with the response; he was giving Misaki curious looks up and down, and suddenly everything was rather awkward and Misaki's gaze slipped down to the toes of his socks. Finally the man said, "I don't mean to be rude, or anything, but are you his younger brother? I was never told that he had any younger siblings?"
"I don't," a smooth, deep voice suddenly answered behind the young man in the doorway and Misaki's froze. The visitor turned around suddenly, and the curious expression on his face was replaced with a strange mix of relief and awe. He backed out of the doorway quickly, bowing about a million times at once, as if he were in the presence of a demi-god. Misaki on the other hand, swore he heard his heart drop into his lungs at the sound of that voice. He was in deep shit now.
"You're right. I am the youngest," Akihiko continued, in that smooth patrician's voice that he currently deployed to great effect, as he stepped his way into the apartment. He gave Misaki a foreboding look that said, Later, darling, before he brought his attention back to the conversation. Lavender eyes, the usual frost in his gaze melting with artificial warmth, narrowed slightly. "You've really done your homework. Impressive. Its been proven rather difficult to gather that kind of information about me."
The man opened his mouth – as if he had a million things to say all at once, and was unsure which to say first – but finally, he just swallowed hard and said, "G-good morning Usami-sensei. I am Oya Ai and I work with Japan Weekly Magazine. It's such a pleasure to meet you. I've been studying your works for years so it truly is an honour." The young man bowed again, so deeply that his nose almost rammed into his kneecaps.
Akihiko raised his brows in exaggerated interest. "Years? Hmm, what would a young man like you want to know about me?"
"H-honestly, just about everything," Oya breathed, still clearly enamoured by Akihiko's presence. "I…I'm actually planning on writing something, a in-depth piece about you. T-that is, if you give me your permission."
"A story about a man who writes stories," Akihiko mumbled, thinking aloud. This time he was really curious. Misaki could tell by that slight quirk in his brow and the way the man crossed his arms over his chest. Then, Misaki took notice of Oya, who was just standing there, shifting from one foot to the other, his breath hitched – Misaki felt a wave of sympathy for the young man. He remembered the first time he met Usagi-san, the whole man's presence was intimidating and for those first few days, there were moments where he forgot how to breathe. A moment passed before the author turned his attention back at the young man. "Sounds promising enough. Come in, so you can tell me about this story," Akihiko said with one smooth inviting gesture. Please don't tell me that Misaki-san has had you standing at the door for long."
"No, he just came as soon as you arrived." Oya let Akihiko lead him into the house. He gave Misaki one last questioning glance from over the shoulder before he followed the author into the apartment.
"Good, good," Akihiko purred, his fingers brushing against the back of the sofa as he rounded the love seat. "He's a good boy but he has his quirks."
Misaki, who was trailing behind them, shuffling his socks against the polished wood floors, scoffed underneath his breath. Quirks? You were the one who refused to answer the phone for days and tried to trap me in the bedroom and make me your sex slave! If anyone is quirky, it is most definitely you!
"He seems very nice," Oya commented. "Though, may I ask the relation?" When Akihiko hesitated, Oya added, cautiously, "He doesn't look much like an Usami, that's all."
But Akihiko, being Akihiko, quickly regained his host-like manner and was back to purring, "Oh, he's far from an Usami. He's a friend's younger brother. I'm allowing him to stay in the house while I tutor him for school."
"How generous."
"No, he does the chores around the house, so I say it's a fair trade. In fact, some days, I don't know what I'd do without him around. He definitely keeps me busy." Akihiko turned around and gave Misaki a quick, significant look from over his shoulder and the boy blushed furiously. The author led the guest to other side of the sofas and they both sat down. Misaki retreated to the kitchen and set to fiddling around with the pots and pans that were scattered in the lower cabinets of the island counter while he listened in to the conversation. He couldn't imagine what an author could even write about Akihiko. The man barely did anything besides harass him, bark demands, and write all day.
"Now," Akihiko started, "About that story. What are you planning on writing about? It seems you've already gathered quite a bit of information about me and yet, I cannot think of a single thing about myself that would be magazine material."
Misaki knew this was just another one of Akihiko's cunning little games – he played it with every interviewer he encountered, using that coy, "Who? Little ol' me?" voice, pretending that he was overwhelmingly humble when in reality, he was just as pompous as anyone would expect a multi-millionaire, celebrity author to be.
"Oh, it wouldn't be anything about current events. Rather, a biography of sorts," Oya explained. "People are really curious about you, especially since you've won the Yamaguchi Award, you were on Forbes Magazine's "30 under 30" Millionaires list last month, and your latest mystery novel is set to have a movie series in the next year. The public knows your works Usami-sensei, but now, people want to know the man behind the magic. So, I wanted to, I guess, introduce you properly." There was a pause. "I've already talked to your editor, Aikawa-san, and she was thrilled with the idea," Oya added quickly, supplementing his request.
Misaki, who was cubing a zucchini, perked at this. How on earth could this guy figure out who Akihiko's personal editor was? Well, he figured, it was common knowledge that Akihiko was on Marukawa Publishing's author line up and once someone knew that, it was simple to call and ask for Akihiko's personal editor for interviewing purposes. And knowing Aikawa, who was always looking for new ways to promote Akihiko, an interview with a magazine as popular as Japan Weekly would surely be tempting. When Misaki glanced at Akihiko, it was apparent that he thinking the exact same thing–then a wave of discomfort creased his brow and he ran his tongue along the ridges of his front two teeth. The man was probably imagining Aikawa's shrill scream in his ear, scolding him for passing up this opportunity. Misaki smiled slightly.
Finally, once Akihiko was able to get his wits about him, he replied, "Sounds interesting enough. Though, to be honest, I'm not as interesting as most people think. I'm really, very normal." Misaki rolled his eyes at that and went to fetch some vegetables from the refrigerator.
"But I think that's what makes you so mysterious," Oya exclaimed. He caught himself, blushed, and coughed down his excitement, his voice lowering back to that tight professional tone. "You're one of the most successful men in Japan and yet, you seem so humble. We all want to know how you got to this point, what makes you the master of your craft, and how others can aspire to follow in your footsteps."
That earned another eye roll from Misaki – the last thing the world really needed was a whole generation of self-absorbed monsters like Akihiko.
There was a pause and the lavender blonde shifted, wriggling a cigarette carton from his slacks pocket, slightly crumpled, taking one out and sliding it between his lips. "Well, Oya-san, I don't see any problem with being followed around for a bit," he finally said, locating his lighter next. "It might be…interesting."
The young reporters eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Sure," the man agreed. He lit up, face flickering orange for a second, and inhaled deeply. He exhaled a breath of smoke, tucking away his lighter, his eyes slipping shut, finally satisfied. They sat that way for a moment, Akihiko relishing that single breath of smoke, until his eyes opened once more, his full attention directed to Oya. "As long as you add in a little extra charm for me. I don't want to look like a dirty, old dog in front of the whole nation." Akihiko smirked and Oya laughed.
"There's no way that could be possible, Usami-sensei," Oya replied, politely, but it was obvious the journalist was giddy with the man's approval. Akihiko seemed pleased as well and offered himself for some more amicable chatting, crossing one long leg over the other, burning cigarette balanced between his fingers. Within fifteen minutes the two men were chortling along like two peas in a pod. They planned to start having Oya spend a few hours every day with him for the next two weeks, starting with a party Akihiko was planning (being forced) to attend on Friday night. Then Oya, remembering his place, apologized for his unprofessional behaviour and Akihiko waved the man's worries away with a carefree flick of the hand.
"Its good for a writer to be comfortable with their subjects. That way you'll be comfortable to ask me some hard hitting questions when the time is necessary."
His smirk was in full force again, which made Oya's eyes brighten once more. After a good-bye, and a slue of clumsy bows, Oya backed his way out of the apartment, leaving Akihiko and Misaki very much alone.
"Now, love," Akihiko said, rising from his seat slowly. He made his way to the kitchen, a single finger trailing along the granite of the island counter behind him as he slunk his way closer and closer to Misaki. His voice was tight, using all the restraint he could muster to keep his tone even. "That little stunt you pulled this morning…I must say, I'm rather surprised," he purred.
"W-why?" Misaki asked, trying to remain calm, his eyes flicking to the approaching author. There was no point in running now…he just straightened his back, took a deep breath, and reassured himself that Akihiko couldn't force him to do anything. He readjusted the knife in his hand and resumed chopping slices from the onion on the cutting board. "I-I…thought you knew me better than that."
"I'm just perturbed, that's all," the voice came easily, the smirk starting to curl his lips darkened his words. He closed the distance between them slowly. His voice practically dropped octave as he purred, "Honestly I didn't think you had the balls to do it."
A shiver bolted through the brunette's spine, a flush brightening his slightly sun kissed cheeks. He stiffened, darting a glance over his shoulder, facing those icy narrowed eyes straight on, quivering.
"W-why do you say crap like that?" Misaki sputtered, once he found the breath to speak. "I'm … just as much of a man as you are."
By now Akihiko was dangerously close, buzzing around Misaki's ear as he murmured, "I've seen the lay of the land down there…and being frank, to put us into the same category would be a blatant lie." He pulled away for a second, tilting his chin down, to maintain eye contact despite their height difference. "And, after I'm done with you today, you'll see how much I…despise lies."
Misaki finally, finally, raised his gaze, terrified.
Then the man closed in.
Misaki dropped the knife suddenly, heard the wooden handle crack against the cutting board, and tried to scramble away. "L-listen, Usagi-san! I-I had to—"
But it was too late. That pair of strong arms was wrapping around his waist and pulling him close to the man's firm chest, immuring him there. He struggled but there was no escape and now he was prisoner to the obviously ticked man who was buzzing against his ear, "I practically searched every alleyway in a five mile radius. I hope you realize there are consequences for being so defiant with me, Misaki."
"W-what do you mean! …Hey Usagi-san, don't bite my ear! Oww!" The author managed to locate a patch of Misaki's ear that wasn't hiding underneath his shaggy hair, and nipped at the cartilage with just enough pressure to pinch. "Stop it jackass! That hurts!"
"You know how I get when you don't play fair," he warned devilishly. His hand slid higher on Misaki's arm, grabbing the jerking limb and crushed his fingers against the muscle. Voice low, he disclosed, "I, personally, like a game with a few rules. However, since you obviously think that you can ignore any chivalry, I suppose I'll play your way. No rules, this time. See if you can keep up now, my pet."
"Stop it!" Misaki said sharply, wrenching himself back and forth even harder. His eyes bolted round the room wildly, searching for an out, something to save him. There was a moment when Akihiko's harsh grasp wavered, his fingers slipping ever so slightly against Misaki's balmy, bare skin. He whipped around, meeting the man's firm stare with defiance. "You're the one who trapped me in your room for days, lying and saying that there were too many paparazzi to go outside. If anyone is a liar, its you."
The blonde growled, then leaned in wordlessly nipped at the shell of the boy's ear little bit harder this time. Misaki gasped at the pain. This was crossing the border of Akihiko's usual sexual quirks (and the man had quite a few of them). The thought of S&M crossed Misaki's mind and his heart dropped into his stomach and his palms began to sweat. There is no way in hell I am letting him do that to me. Ever! I refuse to be embarrassed!
He wriggled against Akihiko's tight grasp with all of his might, feeling those mischievous teeth working their way down his jugular. He barely noticed that Akihiko was backing them toward the stairs. "Are you going to be a good boy?" he asked against Misaki's jaw. "Or, am I going to have to teach you a lesson about disobeying your master?"
"Y-you're not my master!" Misaki snapped and Akihiko just chuckled darkly. Then came another sharp nip at his skin. "Oww!"
"You sure are feisty. I don't know if that little trait is going to be in your best interests today."
"W-what do you mean?" Misaki asked. By now he felt his knees starting to go weak and his mind began tossing thoughts around like socks in a dryer. Akihiko gestured upstairs, and for some reason – call it fear, or sheer delusion – Misaki unwillingly obeyed and began his death march back toward Akihiko's bedroom. On the way up, the man slapped Misaki's ass good and hard, and the boy yelped.
"So cute," Akihiko smirked. "And yet, so very, very naughty."
And with that, Misaki was dragged back to the bedroom and thrown to the mattress, as if he'd never escaped at all.
Akihiko ravished him, not once, or twice, but three times in two hours. There was no S&M – though the man did give Misaki the occasional playful swat on the bottom – but it was traumatizing enough that Misaki swore that he'd never, ever disregard Akihiko again.
Nii-chan, I'm being held captive by an unruly tyrant. If only you knew this side of him, you'd see Usagi-san in an entirely different light...
Marukawa Publishing
Tokyo SW4 325
Mr. Akihiko Usami
521, Bunkyo
Tokyo 21-555-12
15, August 2012
Dear Usami-sensei:
I'm sorry to hear about your bladder infection.
Of course, I expect you gather control over your bladder in the next two hours because you have a party to attend. Do not even claim that it's contagious – remember that the Internet is at my fingertips.
Love,
Aikawa Eri
Editor
