Man. I actually forgot about this work until someone recently gave me kudos. Still, I tried to make something fitting to continue on, though I will admit I am entirely winging this.
I hope y'all enjoy this chapter anyways,though it is long overdue.
~~~~~~
Suoh and Kirishima were ever present figures outside the penthouse; statues until the moments Asami inevitably called.
This night should have been no different. Except, in a moment of obscurity, the schedule had abruptly changed.
Tonight, Asami had given his closest attendants the night off, determined not to have their presence take up space in the back of his mind. His associates felt the need to test him time after time, hoping the crime lord would slip up. Of course, this was not the case, but that never stopped anyone before; especially not the power hungry gangs lurking in Asami's shadow.
Between managing his legal titles and squashing the insects vying for Asami's syndicate, the older man was coming home later than usual. It seemed that Akihito himself was also occupied, making it an infuriating week to get through. One was always out when the other came back, with hardly enough time to spare catching up, much less spare a few hours for the bedroom. It was to the point where there were a few days Asami couldn't see Akihito at all.
It was absolutely infuriating. Asami would admit that he had been a little too trigger happy by the time the seventh day of this dance raged on.
Of course, Asami knew where Akihito was at all times, their relationship progressing to the point where Akihito hardly ever made an attempt to lose his guards. Each hour, a report would flash on his phone, detailing his lover's activities. It brought some semblance of relief to the older man. It wasn't enough. No report could make up for lost time; time that would be better spent face to face, or rather, tangled in the sheets.
Asami could also admit he wanted to see his boy, if only to sate the growing desires building in his groin. A little voice reminded the man that he really just missed Akihito's presence, but the crime lord wasn't quite ready to acknowledge that just yet.
Tonight was supposed to be a break for the both of them; a night he was planning to reserve only for his lover, and hopefully bring one another some much needed stress relief. Asami had waited, past the time Akihito's guards reported he was supposed to come home earlier that afternoon. Even after an unscheduled text came in, reporting Akihito as AWOL. Asami allowed Akihito the time he needed, having faith that his boy would eventually make his way home.
'Look at where that got me' Asami reproved, a biting smile marring his handsome features. 'Had Suoh been here, Akihito's little escape act would have never happened.'
Regret seeped through his form. Asami could only blame himself for his lack of foresight, for allowing himself to put his trust into the younger man. He would never admit to himself that he could have done more, or stopped the young photographer from storming out of their shared penthouse altogether. A different outcome was only an option for men with more control and less insecurity. Asami has never been one to swallow his pride for another, and this time was no exception. The price for this misstep would be a steep one that Asami had no means of paying.
'I supposethings never truly change'. he mused, feeling the growing need for a drink.
With this in mind, the man walked over to his wet bar, intending to lock Akihito's outburst in the depths of his mind. He reached first for a tumbler, only to grab the bottle resting beside it instead, taking a long swig of the liquid fire. In times like these, the only warmth Asami would allow came from liquor.
He spared another glace to the door after, hearing the slam echo through the entrance like a track set on repeat. Except now, the door was shut, and Akihito was long gone by now. One small misstep and every ounce of security Asami prided himself on became sand slipping through his fingertips.
Asami knocked back another painful gulp, disgusted in himself for having hope.
~~~~~~
Akihito had no idea how long he had sat on that bench after his tears stopped streaming down his face.
One thing Akihito did know though, was that he needed to get up and move. He needed to get as far away from the penthouse as possible, and after tonight, he knew that going to his friends or family wasn't an option. The crime lord would undoubtedly check those places first. Hell, if it came down to it, Asami had all the means to turn all of Tokyo on its head for Akihito- probably even more if that's what it took.
A bus stopped in front of the young man, reminding him that he was loitering in one of the worst places possible.
'Or maybe not' he thought, watching the doors slide open as if beckoning him inside. This could be it, his chance to get away and sort his thoughts out before Asami's men caught up to him. That and Akihito didn't want to stay out in the rain any more if he could help it.
When he finally willed his limbs to stand, he felt his chest constrict, knowing that once he stepped onto this bus, he really wouldn't be coming back any time soon. Akihito would regret passing up the chance to say a proper goodbye for years after this, but those thoughts were for later.
For now, he ignored the way his soaked clothes dragged his form down when he walked, shuffling onto the bus without a word. He would take this route to the end of the line, and perhaps by the end of it, he would know what his next step would be.
The photographer found his seat in the furthest corner of the bus, placing his bag beside himself, distantly noting the stares the few other passengers shot his way.
Akihito couldn't bring himself to care, choosing to press his head to the cool glass. He felt sick, both mentally and physically. But he had no other way to address the dull pain building in his temples, nor the shivers that wracked his body.
As he listened to the dull hum of the bus engine, his thoughts wandered back to the scenes from the night,painstakingly picking apart every event that led up to the fight.
~~~~~~
It had been the incessant ring that had woken Akihito up first. The photographer grumbled, shifting to try and get closer to Asami, only to find the bed empty.
'Typical', He thought, now fully awake. He picked up his phone from the bed stand, looking at the chief editor's name briefly before he swiped the answer button.
"Ah! Takaba, I didn't think you were going to answer for a second there!" The man greeted, chipper as ever.
Akihito chose to ignore that little jab, giving a greeting of his own "Hello chief, what do you have for me?" He kept the formalities to a minimum, knowing the man wouldn't have anything to say to him if he didn't have a scoop.
"Sharp as ever I see" he snickered. "I have a scoop on a possible deal going down tonight.."
That's how Akihito had found himself ditching his guards for the first time in months to head to the location his chief gave him. Usually, he would turn these types of jobs down, knowing that he would usually come up with a bust. Almost all of his tips were related to Asami, and Akihito had long since been throwing those tips out.
Because of that, his paycheck was reduced to scraps. And even though he knew Asami would be more than happy to 'pamper him' as the old geezer liked to call it, Akihito was never a man who liked to rely on handouts, especially when Asami was the reason his pockets hurt anyway. So, he decided to take the risk, just once, because this didn't have anything to do with the man.
He adjusted his position behind the crates in the warehouse, readying himself for his star players to show. And what a show it was:
Turns out, a diet member- Akagi Endo- had dug his own grave. He listened as the thugs threatened the old man, wanting port access for their newest shipment, and they had plenty of dirt on the diet member to make him comply. He checked that his recorder was doing its job while he snapped shot after perfect shot.
Everything was going smoothly, that is until Akihito shifted, causing one of the crates to come crashing down, alerting everyone to his position. The blond swore quietly to himself, already running away from the scene. He still can't believe he made such a rookie mistake like that, lamenting his choice to ditch his guards.
Just as he thought he made his way out, his arm was caught in a bruising hold by one of the goons who was supposed to stand watch. Akihito yelped, trying to pull himself from the man's hold, but he could hardly pry the vice-like grip off before a fist slammed into his stomach.
Akihito heard himself cry out, vomiting from the force. Another fist connected to the back of his skull and Akihito saw stars. But the only option was to get back up.
From there, it was all a blur.
The ringing in his ears was incessant, muffling the biting remarks thrown in his direction. Vaguely, Akihito remembered biting someone's hand, maybe kicking another in his dick. He felt the wind picking up, whipping his hair in every direction and the way the air smelled of rain not yet fallen, but not much of anything else. It was possible Akihito had a concussion on his hands.
It felt as if he was running for ages, only finding clarity when he was safely behind the penthouse doors.
Akihito hadn't expected the penthouse to be occupied when he returned; the luxurious home hadn't seen much of him or Asami in the passing week. The photographer dismissed the lights coming from further inside the house as his own negligence, citing his rush to get out earlier as the cause.
As he searched through his pockets however, Akihito felt a slow panic steadily inching its way through his veins.
His recorder was nowhere to be found.
Akihito swore, knowing it was a lost cause; most likely left at the scene. Still, he had his bag, and he couldn't let disappointment take hold until he could be absolutely sure. That was how he had managed to miss his lover lounging on the sofa until he had come face to face with Asami, hurt and resembling a drowned rat.
~~~~~~
"It was a disaster in the making already" Akihito shuddered, not able to discern whether it was from the cold, or his wandering thoughts. Either way, he decided it was best not to dwell on the fight.
He allowed himself to slouch back in his seat, his breath coming out in huffs. He hadn't realized how tired he was until now, when his surroundings began to swim. Lulled by the rock of the old bus, Akihito finally let his exhaustion overcome him, falling into an uneasy sleep. He hoped the pounding of his head would be gone by the time he woke up again.