Rating: NC-17

Author's Note: Desperate times call for desperate measures...

P.S. I tried to post this yesterday but for some reason it showed in my live update as ready and posted, but no one else could see. I deleted the chapter and added it again, so I hope it works this time. Sorry for the delay!

NOTE TO MEFI: Hello, Mefi! Thank you for your kind comment. I wanted to reply right away, but you weren't logged in when you left your comment, so I wasn't able to do so until now. I'm flattered that you would like to translate this fic into German. Please feel to do that! I wish I had the skills to do that sort of thing myself, but I'm not strong enough in any of the languages I've studied to do a good job of it. Thank you again, and good luck with the translation!

Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.

Before the last couple of weeks, Akihito wouldn't have been able to fully grasp the truth of that old adage. What made the knowledge even worse was that it was entirely his own doing. He had been the one to ask-no, order-Asami to be gentle, and he had been. Ever since that first request-demand, Akihito's mind supplied, stubbornly accurate with the full force of his guilty conscience-Asami had been nothing but tender and gentle, treating Akihito as if he were precious and fragile. It was driving Akihito crazy.

Sure, it wasn't all bad. Somehow whatever had happened to Asami had begun to leak out of the bedroom, so to speak, and into the rest of their private life. It wasn't just all about sex anymore. Asami had become...affectionate. Whatever affection Asami had harbored for him before had never been expressed in much more than a hand ruffling through his hair or an indulgent laugh, usually when Asami was being a condescending bastard. This was different.

When they were together and awake and not having sex (which still happened with accustomed regularity), Asami had taken to sitting with Akihito when he watched tv or even played one of his video games. After breakfast, he'd read his newspaper or go over reports with Akihito tucked against his side, doing his own thing. As much as it made him blush to even think about it, there was no other word for it but cuddling.

The other day, he'd even set aside his reports and watched an action movie import with Akihito, making typical Asami-like cutting remarks about the plot, acting, and general worthlessness of Hollywood blockbusters. But the whole time, he'd held Akihito's hand, even when the ridiculousness of the movie became so over the top that even Akihito wouldn't have minded if Asami just fucked him over the back of the couch instead. But Asami just sat there, sharing his perverse sense of humor with Akihito and making his heart flutter faster every time he smiled at him.

His big, crimelord bastard with the defective brain apparently liked to snuggle. The problem was, Akihito found that he really liked it too. So much so, that the thought of what would happen to them once Asami's messed up brain went back to normal made his heart ache rather painfully.

Even the good was tainted by the unavoidable, negative outcome. Unless Asami never returned to normal. Just the thought made Akihito feel even guiltier. It was bad enough that he felt like he was taking advantage of Asami in some way, even though he really didn't have a choice. He supposed that the predicament he found himself in now was his just punishment for using Asami's compulsion to please him for his own selfish urges.

The gentler treatment had been a welcome change at first. Akihito's body had finally recovered, and he felt great physically. He was hardly sore at all, and with Asami being so considerate-and had it really come to the point where he was thinking, without a trace of sarcasm, of Asami as considerate?-it was likely that he wouldn't have any complaints of that nature in the foreseeable future.

And that was the problem, or well, the first of three. Akihito was dying for a good, hard fuck.

Life had been so much simpler when he could blame Asami for their tumultuous sex life, for the powerful, dominating way Asami had usually taken him. However, recent events had forced Akihito to confront some serious home truths. He liked it when Asami took control. He liked it when Asami was rough. He liked it when Asami fucked him so hard and so good he couldn't think, overriding all his inhibitions and self-control and proving over and over how much Akihito was his. Shit, he liked-and this was the hardest thing of all to admit-he actually liked belonging to that perverted bastard.

And the second problem was this: he was way too embarrassed to bring himself to ask Asami to go back to the way things were.

Which brought him to the third problem: the stupid jerk seemed incapable of picking up on his increasingly desperate hints.

Akihito looked up from his laptop where he was touching up a photo from his latest job. When he'd figured out back in the beginning of this fiasco how to get Asami to wear clothes at least some of the time, he'd quickly realized that it was one way he could have some fun without feeling guilty. After all, Asami was always trying to stick him in expensive designer suits. If Akihito took the opportunity to put Asami in some his favorite styles-like well-faded Levis and vintage t-shirts-well, turnabout was fair play.

The current ensemble was his favorite so far. Not only did the jeans hug Asami's impeccable ass perfectly, the t-shirt, which spelled out STUD MUFFIN in blocky English font, made him giggle every time he caught a glimpse. If only he could get Kirishima over to see it too. The expression on his face would be priceless. He'd made Asami pose for another picture just so he'd have proof later.

He snuck another look. Asami was pacing back and forth in front of the windows, speaking quietly into his cell phone, and occasionally stopping to stare out at the city he practically owned. Akihito couldn't help admiring the view too-the one inside the apartment.

Uh oh.

Asami caught him looking and a grin slanted up as he abruptly ended the call and sauntered toward Akihito.

"Finished with your work yet?" He moved between Akihito and the coffee table and dropped to his knees, settling his large hands high up on Akihito's spread thighs. "Master?"

Akihito's heart drummed a double beat. "No, but I can finish later."

"Good."

Asami leaned forward brushing a barely there kiss against Akihito's lips. Shit. Akihito really couldn't take this anymore. He grabbed double handfuls of Asami's t-shirt and pulled him forward, his own mouth pressing hard against Asami's as his tongue licked for entrance. Obediently, Asami's lips parted and Akihito kissed him like he was dying for it, which he was.

Everything he ever learned from Asami's mind-melting kisses, he put into use now. He deepened the kiss, caressing the soft, silky underside of Asami's tongue before drawing it into his mouth and sucking hard. A soft grunt was his reward, and the feel of Asami's fingertips pressing harder into the muscles of his thighs.

That was good, yeah, but how could he get Asami to lose more of that frustrating control? He left off the kiss when both of their mouths were flushed and swollen, and moved to Asami's neck. A series of licks and kisses became sharp little bites as he tried to elicit in Asami the same reaction that sort of treatment always created in him.

He bit down particularly hard in the curve of throat and shoulder, smiling around the flesh between his teeth as Asami hissed softly. His tongue soothed the marks left by his teeth. He drew back and stared for a moment in something like wonder, his thumb brushing over the reddened indentations. He'd actually marked Asami. He shivered with an unexpected thrill of heat and adrenaline that began to spread through him.

His eyes lifted to meet Asami's molten gaze. With trembling hands, he gathered the bottom of Asami's shirt and began to slide it up his torso. "Take it off."

Without a word, Asami lifted his arms and Akihito pulled it off, tossing it aside carelessly. Before he quite knew what he was doing, Akihito was straddling Asami, pressing him back against the low coffee table that held his laptop.

For a moment he buried his face against Asami's throat again, while his fingers explored the smooth skin of Asami's chest. He inhaled, breathing in Asami's clean, intoxicating scent.

"Asami." His hoarse voice was embarrassing, but Akihito didn't care. His lips traveled up and down Asami's throat again, and then further, along the slope of his broad shoulders and down the muscled chest. The softer kisses and licks interspersed with almost savage little bites.

The table slid back as Asami fell back to brace himself on one arm, his other hand sliding up Akihito's back and twining in his hair as Akihito marked and tasted him. Greedy, his fingertips snuck lower, tracing well-defined ridges and the hollow of Asami's hip that was exposed by the low-slung jeans he wore.

Akihito could feel Asami breathing against his hair. The short, hot breaths seemed to be coming faster than normal, and Akihito reveled in the knowledge that his touches were affecting Asami too.

He fumbled with the button of Asami's jeans, yanking the fly open and then doing the same for his own. He reached inside Asami's tight, black briefs and found him already hard. His heart leapt at the sound of Asami's swallowed gasp as Akihito freed his erection from its bounds and gave it a nice, slow, firm stroke.

His left hand fumbled to free his own cock, and then he pressed them both together, using both his hands to squeeze and stroke as his lips pressed against Asami's again.

They kissed, hard and eagerly, Akihito whimpering at the feel of Asami's hot length pressed against his. He slid his right hand higher, swiping his thumb over their wet slits and bringing it down to lubricate the friction of his caresses. A low groan escaped Asami, and Akihito looked up, the pure lust in Asami's eyes making him moan and work his hands faster. For several minutes, nothing could be heard but the slap of hands on flesh and the wet sounds of kisses, sloppily exchanged.

Shit. This was going to be so fast, too fast, but he couldn't slow down. He couldn't stop.

He started panting, his brows drawing together as his mouth went slack. His cock stiffened, going impossibly hard, and Akihito threw his head back, moaning, as his climax tore through him. His come spurted forcefully from his jerking cock to splatter against Asami's muscled abdomen. Shockingly, Asami followed, making Akihito twitch as his cock spasmed and released against Akihito's. When Akihito sagged against him, Asami's arms came up to cradle him, holding him securely until his breath evened out.

"We made a mess," he eventually said in a small voice from the vicinity of Asami's neck. He was a bit too embarrassed by his aggressiveness to look Asami in the eye yet.

"I'll clean it up."

"No!"

Akihito clung to his shoulders. "I mean...let's just stay like this for a few minutes."

"Of course, Master."

His chest clenched. What was Asami going to think about this later? He wasn't sure he could take much more of it. Asami's chest and throat was a mess of red bite marks. Would Asami be angry? Fuck, what had possessed him? Especially, when what he wanted was for Asami to go back to taking charge. If this didn't end soon, it would be Akihito who was mentally fucked up.

"Um." He took a deep breath and pulled back, still not looking up. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You know." A trembling finger touched one of the deeper marks on Asami's chest. "For..." he blushed, "biting you and stuff."

Asami smiled. "There's no need to apologize for that. I liked it."

"Yeah, but..." Akihito frowned. "You have to like it right now. I don't think you would if you were your normal self."

This time Asami chuckled and Akihito's scowl grew more pronounced. "You worry too much. I promise you that under any circumstances, I would have enjoyed this particular chain of events very well indeed."

Akihito couldn't trust that of course, but he couldn't help blushing again. A finger tipped his chin up and Asami was still smiling. "An aggressive Akihito was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. There's nothing wrong with changing things up now and then."

Yeah, Akihito thought petulantly. That's what I've been trying to get across to you. His thoughts were quickly scattered, though, by Asami's next words.

"In fact, if you wish, you can go further."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean, Master, it seems like you might want to fuck me. If that is your pleasure, then..." Asami spread his arms and smirked. "I'm at your service.

Akihito gaped. "What?"

"I said that you can fu-"

He slapped a hand over Asami's mouth. "I heard you! I just can't believe you actually said it!"

Asami's eyes regarded him steadily, maybe with a faint bit of amusement, and feeling rather silly, Akihito let his hand drop away.

"Haven't you ever thought about it?"

Akihito stared. Of course, he hadn't thought about it...much. God, he tried not to think about liking and wanting to have sex with Asami at all. Their whole relationship had been a study in balancing the undeniable attraction and connection between them and, well-DENIAL. Who the hell did Asami think he was, thinking he could just bring up a topic like that?

"No!" Asami arched an eyebrow and Akihito flushed to his roots again. "Listen, Asami, it's not like I just sit around thinking about...about..."

"Topping me?"

"No! Yes! No!" Akihito growled. "I mean, I don't have sex on the brain like you do."

Not as much anyway. At least, he hadn't until this whole stupid mess started. And now Asami was talking about getting fucked. Maybe it wasn't Asami who was crazy. Maybe he was having hallucinations. Because he certainly hadn't thought about topping Asami, and even if he had, it wasn't something that he could even really wrap his brain around. Not yet, anyhow. Maybe in five or ten years, maybe fifteen. All he knew was that he was on the verge of a panic attack just thinking about how he would go about...well, doing Asami-fucking-Ryuichi. And one thing was certain-he would surely die a slow and painful death once Asami recovered.

"And that's not what I want anyway!"

"Oh?" Asami's eyes lit up like he was scenting prey. "What is that you do want...Master?"

Shit.

"Um."

"Please tell me." Asami's hands slid up his back, pressing Akihito close, hot breath whispering into his ear. "I do wish to pleasure you fully."

Oh, God. He was already getting hard just from the sound of Asami's voice.

"Well, I...I was thinking that you should, um, do some of the things that you like to do."

"Oh, but Master," Asami purred. "I love pleasing you."

Akihito almost growled. Couldn't the jerk take a hint?

"Oh, but, it's only fair to you if..."

Warm fingers covered his lips. "My purpose is to serve you. To please you. My happiness lies in giving you exactly what you want." The fingers slid over Akihito's full bottom lip to trace his chin and jaw. "Tell me, Master, what do you want?"

Caught between lust and frustration, Akihito trembled. It was almost if the bastard was trying to drive him crazy. Everything Akihito had been holding in finally came boiling out.

"Fine!" His eyes sparking with defiant bravado as he stared Asami down. "I want you to take control! I want you to stop treating me like I might break! I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk the next day! I want you to do whatever you want with me and make me like it! And..." Akihito took a deep breath and exhaled. "I want it now!" Another deep breath and he scowled fiercely, his chest heaving. "Satisfied?"

"Oh, not yet." Asami's heated smile complimented the wicked gleam in his eyes. "But I will be."

Akihito was tossed over the edge of the couch, his jeans and brief ripped down to expose his ass. Fingers coated with his own cooling come thrust into his tight hole and fucked him open. He grunted and writhed as teeth bit hard into the nape of his neck then released. "And so will you, my cute little Master."