This chapter contains drug use.
Thanks for your patience all, one more chapter of this saga and then back to the dorky crime lords and stuff.
Not proofread.
Akihito looked down at the book in disbelief, that bastard had a good fucking sense of humor after all.
"I think this is the single best gift anyone has ever given me." Akihito said in mock seriousness, and then promptly burst into laughter, it was such a foreign feeling; laughing, he couldn't help but feel guilty for it until a deep rumble echoed next to him, and they both shared in the temporary respite before Akihito had to drop the book in favor of clutching at his ribs in pain.
The blonde hissed through it as he tried to take normal breaths, thankful that Asami didn't have the nerve to hover over him. He merely waited with patient eyes until Akihito regained himself.
"I can help with the drugs part, also." Asami smirked at him then, leaving the Russian curious as he sat on the bed and watched Asami get up and rustle through his things that had been brought to his room earlier in the day.
That's when it'd hit home for Akihito – when he saw Asami fucking Ryuichi's stuff in his rooms, and said man would be staying in his rooms for the rest of the week, as his boyfriend, and Mikhail knew. Add to that - that his boyfriend was helping him in the biggest vendetta known in the underworld, and it was almost fucking romantic, blugh.
He wasn't ready for that, yet. Not when everything still had a chance of going to hell in a hand basket, as if it already hadn't anyway. He'd take everything one day at a time and just hope like hell his prickly heart could keep up.
But once again though, the destructive cacophony of sentiments was interrupted as the bed dipped next to him, and the warm figure of Asami was sitting back at his side against the headboard with his jacket discarded and his sleeves rolled half up his forearms. Even in his gloomy state he could appreciate the disgustingly attractive, god like form of Asami.
"Ladies first." Asami taunted as he offered what he'd been looking for in Akihito's direction.
"Ha, fuck you, grandpa." Was his first reaction before he looked down to Asami's hand, "Wait, what?!" was his next reaction as his eyes locked on the fat joint in between the man's fingers.
"You said you needed pain relief and sleep, which I figured, so I got an ounce from your brother." Came the deadpan reply as he sparked the lighter. "It will help you relax, too."
"But… You're going to smoke weed with me?" Akihito asked, his tone flat. It was nothing new to him; drugs that was. Drugs with stoic Mr in control on the other hand.
He didn't think Asami would be into testing his own product, mind you; cannabis wasn't exactly an A class narcotic.
"It has its uses." Was all the man said before putting the flame to the joint in his mouth and lighting up.
The Russian had to hand it to Asami, his boyfriend; with a few tokes down and a nice haze filling the air of his room, he started to feel a lot better all over, his mind lighter, his body weightless and yeah; he felt A-fucking-okay actually, considering.
The moment he tried to focus on one thing in particular, the loss of his friends, disposing of another, the 12 weeks to come, his mind would flit out and be onto the next random thought, it didn't leave much room for brooding.
It was temporary, but holy shit balls did he need it, with his high he felt the sting of his own failure significantly less.
Ah, he could kiss that handsome faced piece of shit for this actually. Wait, he really could.
Because Asami was his boyfriend and Mikhail knew and no one was currently storming his room and pointing guns or shouting at them.
"Fufu, what's that smile for, mm?" the golden gazed motherfucker smirked at him.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he bit back.
Jesus. Mikhail must have given Asami something fucking resinous because he was going to break into a giggly mess any moment now and he couldn't remember the last time that happened. Not that he could bring himself to care.
"The smile is enough for now." Asami teased him with the cheesy remark.
"Fahaha! Oh fuck, bring me a bucket, I am going to barf." He barked out.
All Asami did was stare at him with a self satisfied glean in his eye, because obviously his plan to cheer Akihito up even momentarily had worked, and yeah maybe Akihito was easily manipulated this time, but he didn't think Asami would ever care enough to try, actually.
They hadn't spoken much about actual feelings and shit, after all, Akihito didn't even know how to talk about the feelings he was feeling. Fuck.
Now probably wasn't a good time to start, anyway.
"Akihito."
Oh, damn. Sounded like Asami had other ideas, the call of his name; soft and gentle from the crime lord next to him said it all.
He was still looking at him, those perfect sculpted brows pursed with a tinge of intensity as Asami turned his body to regard him better.
No, he couldn't do this now. Not when everything could still go wrong, and he could lose more, and even Asami could fucking die in the next 12 weeks.
He couldn't build something up further with the wrecking ball hovering right over his head. Where had his buzz gone?
"Akihito." And, here it comes. "… I'm hungry." Came the matter of fact statement.
"Hah?" was all he managed to get out.
"I'm hungry."
"You… You've got the munchies?" the blonde deadpanned, let down but not- all at the same time.
"Mmm." Asami murmured as he smiled, a genuine fucking smile, and Akihito knew then; that even with out talking, even while he was high as a kite, even with the most fucked up situation hovering over his head, that that goddam smile with those straight, white teeth and sinfully talented lips had sealed his fate. Dammit.
All of that raced through his head in the split second before he lost it, curling over on his side, and clutching at his stomach not because of pain now, but because of his own laughter that was making him breathless.
Next to him against the headboard, the Japanese sat looking down at Akihito as if offended, because apparently his hunger was a serious matter and it wasn't very funny at all. Though the wicked sparkle in his eye, and the curl of his lip made the show false, and in the end; the bed shook as the big man gave up the pretense and laughed as well.
He had to stop himself from thinking about how nice this all was, how domestic, getting high with the boyfriend in his room like some normal young man would – fuck normal though- there were armed men patrolling the property, there was a dull ache in his body from an I.E-fucking-D bomb blowing underneath his vehicle, and their last names were Arbatov and Asami, and that made it more than exciting enough for him for it not to be considered normal.
Apparently, Asami thought the same, and apparently he got extra sappy when under the influence of the green man, because he was swept up in those gently thick muscly arms as they laughed, and Akihito was too breathless to struggle against the romance of it all because he felt fucking rejuvenated, damn, this was some good weed.
"Argh, stop or I'll knit a scarf out of your innards instead!" he managed to breathe out.
"Oh, it would be a sweet gift, I'd wear it with pride." Asami crooned with sarcasm, his eyes feral and his teeth bared. Doomed. Motherfucking doomed.
"I bet you'd get your goddam rocks off if I strangled you with it, wouldn't ya?" Akihito fake snarled as he started non-struggling against the cuddle, until Asami stilled with his lips pursed, his face thinking.
"You actually would." He found himself deadpanning again, motionless now too.
"Try it and see." And the piece of shit had the audacity to wink at him!
Giving up all hope as he found all his defensive sarcasm sucked from his body, Akihito simply went limp, flopped half on the mattress and half on Asami's lap with a sigh. Actions spoke louder than words it seemed, and their feelings were going to develop whether Akihito bloody well liked it or not.
"I'll see if the cooks have anything good in the kitchen." He changed the subject instead.
"Mmm, let's go then." Asami hummed as he got up, then helped Akihito up, the pain was dulled, however his hip was still stiff as an ancient artifact, which made walking a chore, he wouldn't let that stop him though.
He led Asami to the kitchens like men on a mission, trying to keep quiet because it was in fact late, and even though inebriated; he had sense enough not to let subordinates see him like this after the day they'd had, the fact he'd gotten high with Asami showed just how much trust he put in the man, and vice versa.
After a few hallways they found themselves in an empty kitchen, the estate staff had all retired for the night, and that left the two of them in the massive 5 star style kitchen, complete with its marble bench tops and tiled floors, stainless steel appliances and sparkling cookware.
That was where the paid housekeepers prepared all the men's sustenance, they kept it immaculate and spotless, which is why there was a second, small galley style kitchen with an island bench in the middle for the men for times such as these, when they wanted to cook something of their own, or make a big mess and not get in the way, it was like; a normal kitchen a normal house would have, Akihito supposed, except this one had mostly liquor in it, like what Asami's did when he woke up that morning he'd stayed.
This didn't deter the man at all, who now stood calmly looking at the contents of a double-doored fridge as if he had a very important choice to make.
Even though Akihito was a little more affected from the drugs than he'd like to admit, Asami was pretty much his usual self, only a little less guarded, more casual, but still dangerous, and overwhelming in his presence.
And so Akihito stared at Asami while Asami stared at the fridge, at ease in the environment of the kitchen.
They decided on eggs, grabbing the cardboard container from the fridge and getting to work on making an omelet when Mikhail tapped on the doorframe with a "Yoo-hoo." from behind them.
"Oi, oi, oi." The Mafioso chided as he walked in, a hint of a smile on his face. "Don't get high and fry, Akihito. I raised you better than that!" he pushed in between the two at the bench, halting the food preparation with his nosy meandering.
"If you aren't going to help cook, then get out." Akihito said, distracted by hunger as he grabbed a bowl from the cupboard under the bench.
On the other side of Mikhail; Asami chuckled at his snark, or maybe at his immaturity.
This was like; having your boyfriend or girlfriend over as a teen, and Mikhail was like the nosy parent who liked to poke their nose in at the worst times. The family dinners were always agonizing as well.
"Just sit down you muppet, you'd fucking poison Asami with your cooking and we need him still, you can kill him after this is all said and done, haha." Mikhail shoved his younger brother with a shoulder, and simply waved Asami away to take up the task of cooking.
"Your cooking isn't much better…" Akihito warned.
"Fuck yes it is, do I need to remind you about the time when we were camping in the Swiss Alps and you managed to near kill us with fucking potatoes. Potatoes, Akihito."
"Oh my god, shut up about that will you!? It's been years, let it go!" Akihito slammed his hands down on the marble bench with a slap as he sat on a bar stool, next the fucking baby photos would come out.
Next to him, Asami sat with a too fucking smug look on his face watching them bicker.
"Asami, you should hear about the time him and Axel dared each other to down this hot curry in India-"
"Mickey, no. Just stop!" Akihito groaned into his hands as he tried best to fight back laughter, it was funny looking back on it now, especially given his drugged up state, at the time though… Mikhail didn't have any right to tell Asami, or anyone for that matter about what really happened, because what happened in India; stayed in India.
"Well, you wanted to have a boyfriend, and someone has to fulfill the role of antagonizing parent and you're shit out of luck son, because you've got me to do that." Mikhail near cackled as he whisked the eggs, a nasty glean in his eye that told Akihito to be on guard for anything and everything.
"We aren't having this talk again, Mickey." Akihito flat toned as he glared at his brother's back at the stovetop, his hunger making him testy.
"Doesn't matter, Asami has already invited himself around for dinner once this is done." and then they both fucking chuckled while Akihito sat flabbergasted, so the youngest in the room decided it was better for them to go back to pointing guns at each other instead, because Asami and Mikhail ganging up on him would never be fun.
.
The next morning; Akihito woke up to reality after sleeping off his cannabis induced respite. That was, sore from head to toe, inside and out, with a hole in his heart and scratches on his soul, the pain was that instant morning reminder of the things he'd lost, some of his best fucking friends, Vlad, Kristof and many more.
With it, once again he had the urge to bury himself in maps and strategies, anything to find reason to his rhyme.
That was until Asami snapped him out of it, shoving a morning coffee in his face from the bedside; it looked like he'd been up for some time; his watchful eyes scanning his color changing bruises for any significant differences. He didn't ask questions; no 'are you oks?' or 'do you need help?' and he was grateful for it, because he couldn't answer those questions yet.
He wondered how long it would be until he felt a little less like the walking dead in the mornings, and more like the person he was a week ago.
The week sunk into a routine after that, the first night was the best he slept, but each subsequent night was full of restlessness and dark dreams, he refused anything that would alter his mindset again, the bitterness was its own form of motivation, he swallowed it without hesitation, because it was reality, the reality of working in organised crime. The only way he could make his own reality better and ensure it wouldn't happen again was to work harder, be stronger and dwell on mistakes less. Though the last part was harder fucking done than said.
And so, they would go to bed together after Asami helped him shower, along with an earth shattering blowjob to help send him off to sleep.
Akihito saw their doctor again the day after the first night Asami stayed with him, to get the verdict on his ribs; which weren't cracked, only severely bruised, which meant his recovery would be faster. That was one plus on the negative list.
The day after that; was the burial of the dead in the Arbatov family cemetery, it rained the entire time, and everyone was given the day off, it was the quietest the mansion had ever been, and Akihito didn't want to hear it that way ever again, the mournful silence as the rain pattered against the windows of his rooms was deafening, but still Asami never pushed him to open up, Axel never blamed him, and Mikhail never told him that he failed, and so it wasn't as hard as it could have been.
Over the week, they all sat and smoothed out the plan, dead set on vengeance, the men that'd flown in from places around their empire coordinated with them, each sending their best men to South America from their respective locations, when they arrived in South America; they would infiltrate the U.S in increments as to not raise suspicion with Cashmore about large amounts of dangerous looking men entering his territory, gradually building up the amount of men they would have there over the 12 weeks.
Mikhail, Yuri, Akihito and their top men would be the last to arrive to complete that part of the plan.
It was a risk, because if the men they'd sent got found out, not only would they all be killed, but their plan would be a bust, and Cashmore would be onto them. They all waited patiently until they received word that the first lot of men had arrived in the U.S successfully.
Feilong sent in his best team of assassins as well; to scope out Cashmore's properties and his schedule, his team would infiltrate security and gain access so that when the time came, all properties could be put on lockdown and prevent any retaliation when they eventually got their hands on James Cashmore.
Lastly, using the rumours of the Russians sudden exit from Japan and fueling the image of discord between them and Asami; Asami had Kirishima begin researching viable business deals he could 'arrange' with Cashmore that would solidify the plan. The Japanese organization was to make a proposal and meet with him so that Mikhail, Yuri and Akihito could pretend to be part of the security detail, this would ensure the Arbatov's could get close, and Akihito was fucking itching for it, he could sense the same from everyone around him.
Other than meetings, burials and health check ups, Akihito gave himself over to the doctors prescribed rest, doing his paperwork in the comfort of his lounge with Axel as usual, and Siegfried; who'd been promoted in place of Vlad and Kristof.
In essence, this was probably what they called the calm before the storm, everyone revelled in the feeling, 12 weeks out; and everyone was already gearing up for it, it felt impossible to lose, because losing wasn't an option.
.
It was the night before Asami and his men were due to leave, and everyone had retired early for the night to their own rooms.
Fresh from a shower, the pair were lounging on the couch watching Quentin Tarantino movies, because the more blood and gore the better, apparently. They found a few similarities in each other over the last week, some funny, some creepy, only because having favorite torture methods in common wasn't exactly that normal.
Akihito would be a big fat fucking dirty liar with his pants on fire if he said he wasn't comfortable right now though. Asami's chest was a great place to rest on top of.
He was broad, and the expanse of muscle cradled Akihito's back perfectly, the steady warm breath tinted with tobacco and whiskey on his neck was soothing too.
He wasn't really focused on the movie anyway, he'd seen Kill Bill so many times, he felt like a damn sap, because rather than looking at the TV screen, was was looking at the muscular forearms crossed over his chest at the wrists.
They'd grown close rapidly over the week, it was fucking terrifying, but it might have been one of the best rides of his life as well if he was honest; a welcome distraction from everything else.
Akihito was pretty sure he'd seen sides of Asami that no one else ever had. The man could be wicked, murderous and unreadable, but in the privacy of their quarters, he could be gentle, playful and human.
Not only that, but he'd given so much without anything in return, they shared kisses, they made out, Asami sucked him off with hunger, but never any further than that, a silent understanding that Akihito still wasn't in any condition for the mindless fuck they both wanted, Asami's self control was monumental.
"What are you thinking?" Asami's smooth voice rumbled in his ear, he wasn't watching the movie either.
Going off that saying; actions spoke louder than words, Akihito craned his neck up, his lips meeting Asami's throat with a sharp nibble.
The rise and fall of Asami's chest stopped, so he kept sucking and biting at that one spot on his jugular, feeling the hardness in Asami's pants press against the small of his back at the same time with satisfaction.
"That's what you were thinking, mm?" Asami said after a while, his breath rasped and hot in his ear.
Akihito really couldn't be assed answering with words at all, so he gave an extra hard suck, making sure it would leave a mark, he might have been a little possessive, too.
Asami yanked Akihito's head back at that, the grip stung, but the look of feral hunger, restrained and caged in those gold eyes made him shudder.
Mouths smashed together, heart rates quickened, Asami's hands roamed over the body on top of his, slipping under the shirt to glide over hot skin, raising goosebumps and arousal.
Fuck, Akihito wanted it bad, his sweat pants were tight and uncomfortable, he squirmed against the erection pressed against his back, they both wanted it.
Though he could still feel Asami holding himself back, the touches would be firm, hungry, aggressive, and then it was like he'd realise and back off, Akihito didn't like that one fucking bit. He wasn't a goddam china doll.
Well, he was going to play dirty; he rolled his back against Asami and fought back a laugh at the growl against his mouth that he got in return.
"Just fuck me like this." Akihito whispered, "I won't break."
There was a sigh in his ear, "If you insist."
With his pants pulled just below his ass, and one rough hand tilting him to one side, Asami took his sweet time in preparing him with the other hand, those deft fingers scissored, curled and twisted until the Russian was panting into Asami's neck, because he fucking wanted this.
"I'm not waiting any longer." the Japanese muttered after a time, his voice hoarse, he wanted it too, more probably.
"Do it, ah yess." Akihito hissed as Asami's girth pushed at his entrance as he was tilted back down, he welcomed the sting, the stretch when his back was laid flush with Asami's chest once more.
And they moved like that; Asami rolled his hips upward while Akihito ground back down against him, it was intense in its gentleness, maddening in its closeness and fucking amazing in the pleasure of it all at the same time.
Calloused hands cupped his hips gently, pushing him down with barely restrained lust, this time was too different, there was so much feeling, and for that it felt so much better, he was reaching the edge fast already.
"More, Asami." he breathed, careless of any pain as Asami rolled up faster, deeper, filling him more than he'd ever been.
The panting in his ear, the breathy groans coming from Asami made it so real, they were both feeling, needing this, both unraveling. It was fucking electrifying.
"Come for me, Akihito." and it sounded like Asami was asking, not telling and holy shit he couldn't help the shameless way his legs quivered when Asami's hand moved it to stroke his dick, one hand on his hip, the other pumped him with long deliberate pulls and he was coming with a final deep roll of Asami's groin.
"Fffuck, yes! Ah." utterly lost; he threw his head back and buried his face in the crook of Asami's neck as he fucking moaned like a bitch, he felt Asami let it go inside him with a husky groan to fill him even more.
He didn't even have time to catch his breath, didn't have time to think, or feel, because Asami caught the back of his neck in his clean hand, coaxed his head back and was kissing him once more.
It was deep in more ways than one, endearing and meaningful and everything that signalled something significant, the gentle swipe of his tongue, the protective hand cradling his head, that soft hand on his hip rubbing soothing circles with a thumb that knew cold steel all too well.
Oh fuck, he'd fucking tripped and fallen hard right into an inescapable abyss, maybe the tragic situation brought them closer, but it was too late for that now, he'd never been a victim to his own feelings as much as this before.
"Akihito-"
"Don't… say anything, Asami." he cut off words that could potentially be damning to them both, "say what you have to say in 12 weeks."
"Oh?" and that trademark smirk was back, dammit, "you thought you were going to get a confession or something, hm? No, you're the only one who's done any of that remember."
"H-hey! I said once that you were alright, there was no confession so don't fucking get ahead of yourself." this guy! He tried to get up in protest, but was held firm against Asami's muscled body, dick up his ass still and all. Ugh, talk about being made vulnerable.
"Fufu, you're so cute when you're flustered." he found himself jostled up and down as a chuckle echoed through the man's body.
"Oh fuck no, you did not just call me cute."
"What are you going to do if I did?" oh goddammit, he was in one of these moods again, a playful Asami was a frustratingly cheeky Asami.
"Ack, I give up!" and he did, he relaxed again and let Asami take his full weight, chasing away the thoughts in his mind at how right it was to be right here, right now.
Below him; a content sigh mirrored his thoughts, and once again actions spoke louder than words and said more than enough for the two of them.
.
Asami once more found himself sitting in the bed side chair in the room he shared with Akihito, watching the steady rise and fall of Akihito's chest as the blonde slept, a lit Dunhill accompanying his thoughts.
He'd watched him for any early signs of PTSD the entire week, if Mikhail was affected by it, there was a likelihood Akihito could be too. Every now and then Asami saw him space out, shake his head and try to move on. He was strong. The mornings were the worst though, as Asami had predicted. On more than one occasion he'd woken early enough to see Akihito's distressed sleeping face, tossing and turning with a cold sweat on his brow. Akihito would have to go through that by himself after tonight.
Tonight was his last night here, and tomorrow; he would go back to Tokyo.
Contact between them would be kept to a minimum, seeing each other would only put everything in jeopardy, if the image of them together got out; Cashmore would be into them in a heartbeat, and then there was nothing to stop the American retaliating in full fury, because once James Cashmore felt he'd been slighted, that was it, he tried until you were dead. Which is what'd happened 16 years ago with Akihito's parents.
So it would be 12 weeks until they saw each other again, and after just one week spent near constant in each other's company; he had to admit to himself that 12 weeks without Akihito at all seemed a long time.
He tried to boil it down to his businessman mentality of when he wanted something he took it with two hands and didn't let go, but it was different this time. Oh, yes, he wanted, he desperately wanted, but in order to have it; he had to let go momentarily, and it went against every instinctual fibre of his being to do just that.
Not because he was selfish or spoilt, but because the company was good, the conversation intelligent and the constant banter between them rejuvenating, Asami Ryuichi had to admit it; without Akihito for 12 weeks he was going to be bored.
At least he had one main objective to occupy him; and that was to set up the meeting with Cashmore in the man's own territory, he was loathe to pretend the fallout with the Russians was real after the week spent in Moscow, but he was the only person that could do it.
He knew there was no going back now, you couldn't walk away from a family like the Arbatov's without serious repercussions, but being welcomed into the family had repercussions of its own. Being welcomed into Akihito's innermost quarters on the other hand; had affected him much more than he'd anticipated.
Once where his desire for pleasure would have led him to aggressive fucking; his want for Akihito's health and wellbeing had simply shut everything else down. He was alarmed at his own gentleness, surprised at how his keen instincts which prioritised self-preservation had expanded to include someone else. Asami had accepted it all, he could lie to others, but to lie to himself was to betray himself.
He could see Akihito struggling though, his mind torn between defiance or acceptance, it would have been cute under any other circumstance.
Nevertheless, they both knew their fates had been sealed with the next 12 weeks, and as cliché as it sounded; tomorrow Asami wouldn't be saying goodbye, he'd be saying see you soon. That he would make sure of.