STORY WARNINGS:
YaoiMale/Male.
Rating: Mature. ADULTS ONLY. Contains graphic violence, some coarse language, explicit sexual content both consensual/non-consensual, forced/willing submission, bondage, BDSM, edging, safewords, aftercare, adult themes, guilty pleasure fantasy where you want someone to be a bit too forceful.

A/N: A big shoutout for nephthyslaments over on AO3 who pretty much rewrote my story blurb for me because I really, really can't do summaries – you nailed it, thank you! (^^)

There was a question about the bathroom/wetroom layout. Japanese bathrooms are usually split in two – outer (dry) bathroom with sink (literal translation is 'sink room', no English equivalent!) which can also house the washing machine in smaller homes (obviously not Asami's). Door leads to the wetroom - see the manga vol.1 ch.2 p.30 after Asami rescued Akihito from Feilong the first time (not the second, or third, or... no wait, they're all friends now, right? I can't keep up haha ;D). The main wetroom floor area has taps, shower and low shelf for shampoo etc., all based around sitting height as people tend to sit on the stool that's always (always!) there for when you wash. And after you're all washed and cleaned under the shower, then there's a separate bathtub where you soak. I just realized looking at p.28 that there was no slidey vertical pole for holding the shower hook in the manga, there was just a hook higher up for holding the shower head when you want to stand, but I'm going to claim artistic license for my story and install one for Akihito to have clung so desperately to. *ahem!*

Updates might be a little slow for a while as my other half is job hunting. Which he claims takes priority over my attempts to monopolize the computer... I don't get it, do you? ;)

So there I was, still pandering to these two, and then THIS happened. Asami sort of took over and made me overhaul it all, which is why this chapter took so long even though I'd originally said 'soon'! Sorry for the wait. I'm actually not sure how you'll react. Possibly risky. Hit or miss? If it's the latter at least it's another long chapter for you! XD

An e-cookie and pat on the back for anyone who actually read this whole long ramble of notes! (^^)

~ Nyx ~

DISCLAIMER: The Finder series and all recognisable characters belong to Yamane Ayano sensei.


Click

Chapter 17

Asami tossed him a towel in the outer bathroom.

Shivering in the cooler air, Akihito dried off quickly before wrapping the towel around his waist and hobbling back into the wetroom, determined to get out of there as fast as possible. But once there, he held up his torn top and soggy jeans in dismay.

"You don't need your clothes."

"I'm not leaving butt naked," Akihito insisted. The drenched clothes were plucked out of his hands and dropped in the laundry basket.

"Who said anything about you leaving?"

Akihito rounded on Asami, only to find a toothbrush held before his face, still in the packet. He stood there eyeing it as though it was a lethal weapon. Because it meant too many things – a night-time ritual, readying for bed... But knowing Asami, if he said Akihito wasn't leaving tonight then he wasn't leaving tonight. And he couldn't not brush his teeth, last week had been gross.

Asami was smirking at him, his eyes challenging. Scowling, Akihito snatched it out of his hand.

So they stood there, side by side at the wide sink, brushing their teeth. Asami's toothpaste, Asami's bathroom, Asami's mirror filled with Asami's inhumanly stunning image. It was weirdly, flusteringly domestic.

Asami's phone on the side started ringing. He spat into the sink and answered it.

"Asami." He rinsed his mouth out as he listened. "That can wait until tomorrow." He washed off his toothbrush. "They're giving me an ultimatum?" He sounded amused. "You can give them one of my own, Kirishima. I'll put them out of business and take over their shipping lanes myself. They can deal with me or not at all."

Akihito sighed around his toothbrush, frowning at Asami's reflection. Why did the bastard insist on having these dodgy conversations in front of him? Of course it could have been perfectly legit but this was Asami, it was bound to be fishy. Asami smirked knowingly at him as he stepped out of the bathroom.

Left alone, Akihito finished with his teeth and took the time to collect himself. What was he still doing here, quietly getting ready to spend the night? It wasn't like he could go anywhere with the guards outside, but still, if he was that desperate, he could have put on his jacket and sopping wet jeans and tried anyway... Why wasn't every nerve in his body screaming at him to take off?

If he was at Kou's, by this time of night he'd already be on the verge of a freakout at the monsters his fears were convinced would come bursting through the front door. Kou had even learned to move around with a certain amount of constant noise so Akihito would always know where he was and not jump out of his skin at every little thing. The only time ghoulish assailants weren't gnawing on the fringes of his mind seemed to be when he was with Asami, the man's overwhelming presence suppressing the clamouring in his head. The whole week of severe sleep deprivation was catching up with Akihito, he was just so damned tired. Maybe just this evening, just once, it might be ok to give into temptation and let Asami be his shelter. He might even manage a bit of shuteye which would be freaking awesome. Or it might go horribly wrong with a full-blown meltdown right in Asami's face...

Akihito was moving for the living room before he knew he'd made a decision, his jacket in hand, only the towel about his waist, his wet clothes left behind in the basket.

Asami was in the kitchen with a tumbler of whiskey, still on the phone. Did the guy ever stop drinking? Dropping his jacket on the sofa, with just a fleeting glance at the opposite doorway leading to the front entrance, Akihito headed into the kitchen.

He paused at the sight of Asami wearing nothing but a towel slung around his hips. What a pair they made in their matching ensembles. Except Asami's version came with a washboard twelve-pack... Resolutely looking elsewhere, Akihito eased past the bastard and grabbed a glass.

"That's his firearm," Asami was saying, to Kirishima if it was still the same phone call. "Have Matsui release it, pick it up en route tomorrow."

Akihito rolled his eyes. Asami was issuing orders for the Chief of the Tokyo Met again and not even making a token attempt at subtlety. Akihito poured himself some water and padded back to the living space. Ignoring Asami who leaned against the doorway watching him, Akihito perched on the back of the sofa, grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and checked his messages. There were several missed calls, mainly from Kou with drunken voicemails that were more tuneless karaoke singing than any real content, and one from Takato, checking in to make sure he was ok.

"When?"

Raising his phone high enough to see the screen over the glass as he drank the water, he texted back a quick A-ok and that he wouldn't be back tonight. He refused to think of the reaction that that little titbit would set off...

"Fine. It's almost just a formality by this stage anyway, Suoh already took precautions after Mr Titanium's tipoff."

Water spurted everywhere. The floor, the phone, even up his nose. Coughing and hacking, Akihito gaped up at Asami who looked about as tickled as if he'd just pulled off the mother of all pranks. Asami came forwards to lift the glass from Akihito's inattentive grip and put it safely aside.

"Oh, that?" Asami remarked innocently on the phone. "Just a naïve brat who's coming to realize there's nothing he can keep from me. Nothing to concern yourself with."

Suoh meant security... They were talking about V1P3R? Or did Asami know about the other email too? Noooooo no no no no...

"Come at eleven. Bring lunch as well, enough for ten. Akihito's going to be hungry."

Akihito was still frozen in slack-jawed shock as Asami hung up. He didn't even know where to begin. Somehow, even worse than the fact that he'd helped Asami in the first place, was Asami knowing that he'd helped. He just knew that Asami would be so freaking pleased with himself, his ego blown to planetary proportions...

Akihito ducked into the kitchen for paper towels. He probably would have continued hiding there if Asami hadn't been watching through the wide window in the parting wall. He returned dabbing his phone and mopped up the mess on the floor.

"I must admit, I never expected Z4m4 M1r0 to come to my aid."

See, now, Akihito's brain must have malfunctioned. Because that didn't sound like gloating. That sounded quiet. Serious. Akihito tossed the damp paper in the bin, shrugging, aiming for casualness but falling blatantly short. "I claim temporary insanity. Temporary, severe, insanity. Lunacy. Idiocy... Imbecility?"

Asami stepped close, filling Akihito's vision with an eyeful of ripcord muscles and halting his linguistic pursuit of synonyms. "I can't imagine it was anything less than one of the hardest decisions you ever made."

Fucking hell, Asami was completely, utterly, deadly serious. Akihito's immediate reaction was to laugh, a nervous, slightly hysterical sound. "Watch it, you're going to make me think one of us is dying being all sombre like that. Because that's more likely than you being grateful, god forbid."

"Perhaps I am."

Akihito didn't know what to do with Asami not trying to fuck him, or fuck with him, or fuck him over. Asami wasn't even letting him laugh it off. He wanted to curl up and disappear.

But before that, he felt his anger creeping up, a snowball gathering momentum down a mountainside. "Why didn't you tell me about Kondo?"

Asami narrowed his gaze at him. "I'm not in the habit of discussing business with those not in my employ, Akihito. Besides, you'd already destroyed the footage by the time I knew for certain that you had it. It was old ground."

"To you, maybe. It wasn't for me. You let me carry on believing I'd let you off the hook for cold-blooded murder!"

Asami was ice. "I have no use for half-baked platitudes. If you needed to know, I would have told you."

Akihito glared, so angry his breathing was even ragged. "If I needed to know? You bastard! You have no idea how... No idea what..." He choked on the anguish that surged through him. Asami had no idea what it had cost him, even if it had felt like the only way to balance the books, a life for a life. He'd believed he'd sold his soul. If he'd known that Kondo was evil...!

He laughed, deprecating, furious. Disappointed, even, which was just maddening all over again. And hurting. That, perhaps, was the worst. "But what does it matter what I want? All that matters is the great Asami-sama and everyone else can go fuck themselves, right?"

Golden eyes flashed. "Do you truly believe that that's what I think of you?" Asami loomed closer. "Did I leave you to risk the mugger alone? Did I abandon you to Nishizuma's men?"

Akihito wasn't prepared for having all that thrown back in his face. He shrank back, his ire dissipating as though the ground had been whipped out from under him. He glanced aside for an escape route –

Asami didn't let him, bracing his arms on the sofa back on either side of Akihito, bracketing him in. "Did I?"

Akihito squeezed the phone still in his hand. "...No." Why the fuck were they having a conversation like this wearing nothing but a towel? Feeling very naked all of a sudden, he wrapped his arms around himself. "But why?" he whispered. Asami hadn't answered him last time. Was he any more inclined to explain now?

Asami regarded him for long seconds. Regardless of all the embarrassing nonsense the bastard could sprout during sex, apparently an honest question like this was still borderline taboo. Didn't Akihito deserve some kind of explanation after all the chaos the bastard had thrown at him? So Asami had saved his life but that didn't excuse all the other shit. And the longer Asami seemed set on skirting the question, the more adamant Akihito became not to let him.

"Why me?" he insisted, his voice stronger. He didn't back down, holding Asami's hard gaze, daring the bastard to chicken out...

That was when Asami capitulated, and it was with that self-satisfied, somewhat teasing smirk that never failed to make Akihito flare up.

"Because of that, right there." Asami crowded even closer, barely a step but his incredible musculature still radiated fluid, coiled, spellbinding power. He tipped up Akihito's chin. "You push my buttons, impudent, brazen, defiant brat that you are."

Akihito swallowed hard, trying to draw back. There wasn't much leeway, hemmed in against the back of the sofa as he was. He glared hard, fighting the heat thrumming through him 'cos damn it, the stupid towel wasn't going to hide anything! "Don't go getting any ideas, I'm only still here because you ruined my clothes."

"Of course. And because you know it'll only be worse for you if you try to run."

A shadow passed over Akihito's face. "Why do you have to threaten me all the time?"

"I don't." Asami's eyes gleamed. "Sometimes I'm fucking you."

"Oh, geez..." Groaning, Akihito cast skywards.

The doorbell chimed. Akihito jumped, spinning towards the sound, heart in his mouth – before he belatedly realized it was just the door. Being behind closed doors this time of night really did a number on him, even if this was Asami's condo protected by guards, even if Asami was right there, even if nothing could possibly get through –

It was just for a second, maybe two. Asami gripped his shoulder, a heavy, warm squeeze like an anchor. Blinking back to the here and now he met Asami's eyes again.

Only then did Asami go to check the intercom display on the wall. "Come in." He buzzed the visitor in but then promptly headed off to the bedroom. "One second."

Akihito was wondering if he should make himself scarce when an annoyed sigh came from behind him.

"Put some clothes on, for pity's sake."

Turning, Akihito crossed his arms. "Oh, Kuroda, it's you. I'd love to be dressed too but that's easier said than done."

The prosecutor glared. "That's Kuroda-sama to you. Do you never add honorifics?"

"Only for those who deserve it."

"And you don't think being the District Prosecutor qualifies?"

Akihito grinned. "You hang with Asami. That says it all, don't you think?"

"You're here late," Asami commented as he returned wearing a bathrobe over joggers.

"You should teach the boy some manners," Kuroda muttered.

Asami smirked. "Where's the fun in that if I can't punish him?"

The other two groaned. Akihito swore the bastard did this on purpose to make them both uncomfortable. This was probably about the only thing he and Kuroda agreed on.

"We need to talk." Kuroda didn't even bother being subtle when he looked from Asami to Akihito and back again.

"Akihito, go wait for me in bed."

Akihito glared. "You can't order me around."

"Of course not," Asami replied mildly. "I threaten, remember? Get your ass into my bed or I'll tie you to it spread-eagled and fuck you raw till dawn."

Kuroda sighed, running a hand over his face.

Akihito gaped. Asami would do it too, Akihito knew. Damn it, he was not aroused...!

Glaring bloody murder, Akihito stomped off to the bedroom with as much dignity as he could muster with an aching lower back and wearing only a towel. Speaking of which...

"And ditch the towel," Asami called after his retreating back.

"Fuck you!"

Akihito was chased all the way to the bedroom by Asami's chuckle.


Once the bedroom door closed, Asami turned back to Kuroda, his features sweeping to winter, any hint of softness vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Kuroda straightened. "We have a problem," he began. "You were right. That attack – it's just the tip of the iceberg."


Akihito was awake. Even turned away and with the blond hair almost completely hidden under the covers, Asami could tell. After all, the brat had sprawled, drooled, twisted, kicked, flung and snored through 12 hours of sleep in his bed the weekend before, still somehow noisy even when asleep. It was almost impressive.

This? Far too still, far too quiet. So it was the cold shoulder. Asami's lips curved as he flicked off the main lights, leaving two upturned wall lamps on either side of the bed casting the room in half light, enough to see by without drowning out the Tokyo nightscape out of the expansive windows.

Five. He mentally started counting down as he strode for his bedside table. Four. Bathrobe discarded. Three. The gun was exactly as he'd left it. As expected, Akihito hadn't laid a finger on it. Two. He picked it up. Right hand, his dominant, avoiding even a moment of having to swap hands and not being in control of his weapon. One. Asami could have safety-checked in his sleep. Efficient and assured, he released and removed the magazine, placing it on the table, then pinched the slide between his left palm and fingers, rolled the gun to the right to aid extracting any round in the chamber, and ripped the slide to the rear.

Akihito jolted at the distinctive metallic click, spinning with wide hazel eyes darting to locate the source. Bullseye.

Asami pressed up on the slide stop lever and wracked the slide back, locking it to the rear, and checked the well and rejecter port to ensure the chamber was clear. He had plenty of live ammo in the fingerprint-locked top drawer of his bedside table as well as dotted about the condo whenever he required, but this mag was still full. Using his index finger to ensure the rounds were seated properly, he fed it into the magazine well and slammed it up. Grabbing the back of the slide, pulling and releasing it, he chambered a round. Safety on and the CZ75 was ready to slide under his pillow. It had all taken a matter of seconds.

Hazel eyes tracked nervously all the while. "Is that for my protection in case you decide to get grabby?"

Deliberately snarky but there was an uneasy undertone. Not at Asami, though. Or even at the handgun. Akihito's eyes flickered to the door.

Asami sat sideways on the bed, reclaiming the brat's attention. "Oh? Is that what you're expecting?"

"That wasn't an invitation!" Akihito wailed, drawing back as Asami leaned in.

Asami braced his arms on either side of the slender shoulders. "I can hardly let you down now, can I?"

"You're such a..." Akihito's voice trailed off, his eyes flickering uncertainly.

Asami supposed his gaze might be coming off heavy. Kuroda's news had thrown him. Death threats, and attempts, against himself were so commonplace that he took them in his stride amongst Kirishima's daily reports on the politics amongst his senior staff at Sion or the latest forecasts across his numerous investments. But he wasn't the target this time. Akihito was.

"Hey, get off me..." Akihito tried to scoot out from under him, pushing against his chest.

Asami grabbed for the slender wrists because it always made the brat squirm deliciously against him. Only to encounter sleeves

Rearing back, Asami yanked away the covers.

"Wh- hey!" Akihito tried to protest, but it was half hearted, probably half regretting his decision as Asami's gaze darkened, and not with anger.

Asami had stilled, hunger hitting hard. The brat really only had himself to blame. "Lose the towel doesn't mean wear clothes... But I must say it's quite a turn on to see you in my clothes."

Asami's shirt, to be precise, with bare legs sticking out oh-so-alluringly from under the hem, perfectly suited for wrapping around Asami's waist...

Akihito's cheeks were flushing pink. Asami wanted to make them redder.

Akihito made a grab for the bed covers, without much luck. "It's only 'cos it was all I could find! I'm hardly going to keep digging around when it's bound to be just a matter of time before I come across some dodgy stash that's freaky or fishy or embarrassing as hell, right? But I bet you're actually wearing the only casual thing you own, aren't you?" Akihito yanked at the waistband of Asami's joggers and let it go with a snap.

Asami sneered. He supposed the brat thought he was being derisive. But wearing his shirt, of all things? It was practically a come on! Asami was sorely tempted to bury himself between those lean legs right this very moment. Alright, perhaps he'd allow two seconds to stretch out, five at most, but then he'd thrust all the way...

His voice came out rough. "I know you're hot for me but to think you'd actually try and seduce me –"

Akihito blew up indignantly, shoving at him. It was brilliant. "The hell I am! You ruined the only stuff I had with me, you asshole!"

He crowded closer, pushing more and not just physically. "You like it when I tear off your clothes, do you?"

"Huh?! Where did you get that from? Listen to what I'm saying, you bastard! Or – hey – maybe you're actually getting so old you need a hearing aid? Is that it, huh? Need me to speak up?" Akihito snarked with deliberate emphasis.

Asami couldn't contain his amusement, he could feel it curling across his lips. "Most certainly. Make sure you scream real loud so I can hear it when you come, Akihito."

Oh those eyes, so enticingly enraged, so heated

Asami tore the shirt open, his own shirt, revealing Akihito unhindered. As was only right.

The blond spluttered, sprawled in shock. "Y-you depraved caveman! And oh my god those buttons actually fly, you honest-to-god sent them flying like some cliché porno fli–"

Asami ended up chuckling into the runaway mouth as he sealed their lips together and muffled the yelling. He coaxed Akihito's tongue into more productive pursuits, pressing the smaller body into the bed and eating up the soft sounds that Akihito was trying, and already failing, to contain.

That was more like it, bold and ballsy. Not the meek and fearful shell Akihito seemed to have withdrawn into this past week. It was plain how much he'd been struggling – haggard about the eyes, cheeks noticeably drawn even in just these few days. Asami's intention had been to permit some space – admittedly very limited and under surveillance but space all the same – before reeling Akihito in again. Not to leave him to suffer. The nightly sojourns to the internet café were looking not so much by choice but as a result of trauma.

It was long familiar to Asami by now, the siren call of his bloodlust. It stirred a fire in the cavernous darkness that might have been his soul, resonant through his veins. Akihito had suffered. And worse – Kuroda had brought confirmation that whatever lowlifes had tipped off Nishizuma's group for Akihito's hit last time were still targeting him. There could be no forgiveness. Asami would exact vengeance, but there would be no quick bullet to the head for this. No, this was going to be up close and personal, the perpetrators' bloody penance prolonged until they repented the error of their ways down to their putrid souls and rued the day they sought to take what belonged to Asami Ryuichi.

He'd probe in the morning, clearly Akihito knew more than he was letting on. But not now. Now, the brat needed distraction. Asami sucked hard at Akihito's bottom lip as he drew away, drawing a hiss. The kiss was messy and wet, depraved, just the way Akihito liked it. Even if Akihito himself didn't realize it. The younger man's eyes, blown and dark with desire, tempered only by the hesitation that Asami knew he incited, searched his gaze. Nervousness crept into Akihito's expression from the dark thoughts he must have sensed. It was involuntary how Asami's lips curved, something he found happening more and more recently. Even from the start he hadn't hidden who and what he was from Akihito, which was surprisingly refreshing even when he'd never in his life sought nor needed acknowledgement or validation from anyone. In a world where their equally obstinate but polar opposite convictions should have – and had, for a time – set them at each other's throats, a very particular set of circumstances had led them to this extraordinary place, where Asami included Akihito amongst the extremely selective circle of men with whom he could entrust a gun at his back, whether loaded or smoking. The brat had no idea of the implications.

He found that spot on the neck below the ear, the spot that made Akihito –

"Hhhhhhaa..."

There it was, the gasp and arch that squeezed Asami's groin and made him feel tight. He sucked hard against the pulse, the heartbeat that was for none to cease but Asami. Only Asami was allowed to drag this vibrant soul to hell.

Fingers were pulling sharply at his hair. He soothed the marked skin with his tongue and the tugging eased to distracted flexing, taking strands between fingers and letting go.

He let his mouth roam down, half pinning Akihito down, half drawing him up with an arm wrapped under his waist. Slender, but very much male. Lean, not curvy. Supple, not soft. Hard to the touch, but incredibly receptive once Asami had kneaded him. So invitingly, conveniently sensitive.

Asami took the small pebble of a nipple in his mouth, catching it between his teeth and giving it a tug.

"Aaaah... A-Asami, stop! A- Fffhhhhhuuu!"

Asami smirked against the flushed skin as he licked his way down the dipped centre ridge of the abdomen, shifting his body down between Akihito's lean legs. He nipped at Akihito's sensitive ribs, revelling in the half protest, half moans muffled behind a gnawed lip. The brat himself probably didn't know at this stage if he wanted to escape or press closer as Asami worked his way down to the inside thigh, nipping and soothing as his hands found his way up behind Akihito's thighs and in between...

"Aah! Aaah...!"

He fingered around the twitching hole, skimming multiple fingertips and scraping nails, giving the illusion of multiple hands. Meanwhile he sucked and licked his way inwards, closer and closer to the proud arousal with pre-cum already beading on the tip, closer still – then he bypassed it completely, not even a feather of contact against the erection, instead settling his mouth firmly against the opposite thigh.

Hips arching clean off the bed, Akihito's hands flexed against the bed and in Asami's hair. "Urgh... You bastard..."

"Hmm? What is it you want, Akihito?" Asami tugged teasingly at the puckered ass, still very much outside, building frustration.

Akihito's hands clenched. Flexed. Flew up and fisted in the blond hair, clearly in an effort to focus elsewhere. "Pocky ice cream! Do they exist? I can't believe I've never looked into it, can you imagine? Funfuckingtastic. I should so patent – arhhhhnnnn!"

A firm bite against the thigh quickly silenced such diversionary tactics and the hands were rightly back in Asami's hair.

"Nnnhh – damn it, Asami, what're you do-nnhhhh..."

Always this delicious conflict with Akihito, the obviously blazing attraction warring with level-headed caution, engendering the resistance that thrilled Asami equally in encountering it and in breaking it down.

He licked along the dip in the lean hips, glancing up at Akihito's half-lidded, unfocused eyes.

There was something when it came to this Takaba Akihito, something primal that reared up in Asami that wanted to sink his teeth into the slender neck and mark his territory, dominate kicking and screaming and lay claim to that sweet ass. It had reared its ugly head when he'd seen Akihito with his arm about that slip of a girl, even when he'd observed that it was purely platonic on Akihito's part, even knowing that he was the only one that Akihito reacted to on a visceral level. Akihito himself had provoked it in the bathroom. Let entirely free it would lock Akihito in a cage away from the world to exist purely for Asami.

He sucked and licked close to the arousal that was proud and straining and glistening, slowing as he neared the base, waiting until Akihito's hips shifted, seeking his mouth – when he pulled away and down, sucking instead on the ball sac, hard enough to draw half of it into his warm, wet mouth.

"Haa!"

Akihito was like a rock in there. Asami sucked hard, too hard – fingers tightened in his hair and he eased off, licking gently with his tongue, letting his teeth scrape. Akihito jolted, but before he could protest Asami was shifting across to the other side and this time swirling, just enough pressure to make Akihito's hands shake against his head.

"Nnnnnggg...!"

Asami might have carried on teasing a lot longer except he was getting impatient himself. It was always effortless with Akihito unlike with so many partners in the past. Asami was already fully hard and the animal inside was chomping at the bit to bury himself in that tight heat. But not yet. Akihito still had more of himself to give first, not that the brat knew that yet.

Asami peered around the dripping erection that had created glistening patches on the taut abdomen, just because he knew it would make Akihito extra embarrassed. He wasn't disappointed when those cheeks bloomed brighter as Akihito stared down his own body to meet Asami's eyes.

He calmly delivered the choice and waited expectantly to reap the reaction. "Do you want me on my knees, or pinned under you choking on your cock?"

It was priceless. Akihito's face morphed into a picture of scandalized shock that was as desperately aroused as it was horrified.

Asami found himself doing his half smile again, the one that always made Akihito glare at him like they were cosmically connected in cause and effect. Except now. Akihito was still speechless, his brain probably trying to reboot from the mistaken assumption that Asami was submitting. His smirk deepened. Oh how little Akihito understood.

"Choose. Or it's neither."

Akihito's flaming dilemma was practically written across his face, torn by the part of him that wanted to keep fighting and walk away with his pride intact, and the other that just wanted to give into the fierce craving burning him up already and let Asami make a mess of him again.

Clearly a last bit of encouragement was in order. Asami drew back enough to rest on an elbow, shrugging with feigned nonchalance as he swept a hand back through his hair that Akihito had mussed up. "Or perhaps you don't have it in you to take control."

It was blatantly obvious. They both knew what he was doing. But there was that fiery flash Asami was looking for and Akihito shoved him hard. Asami let himself be rolled onto his back as Akihito straddled his stomach.

"You're so going to regret that," Akihito declared.

Asami couldn't help the smirk that broke across his lips, satisfied and anticipating, saw the responding irritation in Akihito's scowl. Cause and effect.

"Oh, and who's going to make me?" Asami growled, pitching his voice pure bedroom. "You?"

Akihito grabbed his wrists. He didn't resist and Akihito didn't seem to know what to do with them for a moment, before pinning them overhead, hazel eyes flickering at Asami's corded arms. Asami couldn't help the shit-eating grin that split his face. Akihito only looked more enraged and burning up even more, which was firing Asami up brilliantly. By the time Akihito smashed their lips together in a fierce kiss, Asami was laughing into the infuriated blond's mouth.

It spoiled the effect somewhat. Akihito started drawing away but Asami pulled him back by sucking hard on his lip before entwining their tongues, taking over again. Akihito started to melt, leaning in, pressing closer – before suddenly catching himself and pulling sharply free.

"You!"

"Hmm?" Asami looked back innocently.

Akihito fumed for a moment before pulling off a deliberate smirk to rival Asami's own. "Lean back and get comfortable. Because you won't be for much longer."

Asami smirked right back. "Pinned and choking it is, then."

Akihito made a funny sound in his throat as Asami jammed a pillow against the headboard. Scooting up, he lay himself back, half propped up.

Akihito gaped. "Are you serious?" There was a hint of genuine uncertainty in his eyes, as though at a loss as to what game Asami was playing at. Or at the fact that he wasn't running. Probably both.

Asami knew he couldn't completely stamp out the teasing from his voice. "Only if you think you can top me. Don't push yourself."

Akihito made a strangled sound, a furious blush rising all the way up his chest and neck and face at the word choice. After a moment of spluttering he flared up, "You arrogant ass, I'm so gonna make you eat your words! Or me, as the case may be." He shifted up until he was kneeling on one side, grabbing the free pillow to wedge under his other knee so he was astride Asami's neck, his glistening erection pointed directly at Asami's mouth. This seemed to give him pause, embarrassment momentarily paralysing him, until Asami arched a brow, not bothering to smooth out the grin playing on his mouth. With his cheeks glowing but gritting his jaw with resolve, Akihito grabbed a fistful of Asami's dark hair as though preparing to thrust into his mouth. But here, another pause, as though expecting to simply be thrown off. They both knew Asami could.

As delectable as Akihito's inner confusion was, Asami's pants were becoming uncomfortably restrictive. Wasting no more time, he grabbed Akihito's hips with both hands and yanked him forwards, sucking Akihito in fast in one fell swoop.

"Uuuuunnnhhgggghhhh!"

Akihito fell against the wall, barely catching himself in time, his throaty, honest, artless groan bolting straight to Asami's crotch. He drew Akihito back out and sucked and swirled his tongue over the engorged tip all at the same time, before drawing him in again. Again and again, he started pulling Akihito apart quickly, piling on the slick, mind-boggling sensations until Akihito started thrusting of his own accord.

Not having to move the lean hips anymore, Asami let his hands roam, squeezing the tight ass, brushing the thighs, raking up the sides under his shirt and tweaking the nipples as he continued swirling his tongue timed with Akihito's thrusts. Shaky breaths and helpless moans escaped between parted lips as Akihito braced desperately against the wall, eyes fluttering as they alternately became mired in fevered gratification and struggled open to watch his own rock-hard arousal gliding in and out of Asami's mouth.

Asami drank it all in with his gaze blown to midnight – the stretch of the lean body above him tantalizingly half concealed by the flapping shirt, the play of lithe muscles, the faintest sheen of sweat giving Akihito a mystical glow in the dim light as he arched before the nocturnal Tokyo backdrop. It was an intoxicating view. Asami might commission a painting. Or better yet a mural, Akihito's pure, carnal rapture splashed across his bedroom walls. The brat would be absolutely livid. That alone would be worth it to task Kirishima with finding an expendable artist – since clearly said artist would have to be disposed of after laying eyes on Akihito in such a manner...

Heated amusement must have shown in his expression for hazel eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. Akihito likely mistook it for mockery, his eyes flashing as he grabbed Asami's hair again, the grip hard but carefully not too tight.

"You said choking, right?" Akihito huffed as he started driving deeper. But even as he pinned Asami's hair and started using more of his weight to press Asami down more with every thrust, he still went slowly testing the limits, going deeper little by little, not ramming as Asami would have done. It was the kind of heart that Asami simply didn't possess. And watching the defiant man surrender to the inferno between them piece by piece while still being so damned careful only made him want to ravage Akihito all the more.

He adjusted himself, angling off his pulsing erection and trapping it under the waistband.

The movement caught Akihito's attention. He glanced backwards, irritation furrowing his brow. "Why the hell are you still wearing pants? Take them off."

The demand would have made Asami grin if Akihito wasn't still steadily thrusting away. The brat was doing it deliberately too, a brazen glint in his eye with just a hint of shy. Asami growled around Akihito's cock and sucked hard, making the hazel eyes roll back momentarily. Asami braced his feet and raised his hips just enough, revelling in the passing crush of the material as he dragged them off.

He threw them aside and then he really went to work. Grabbing Akihito's hips, he opened up his throat and pulled the oozing cock in deeper, kneading the engorged head with his throat muscles and the shaft with his tongue, swallowing down the back of his throat.

"Unnnnggghh!"

Akihito's dilated gaze accused him of having held out all this while. But Asami also had another surprise waiting. Uncaring of the mess he made on the bed, he dumped a puddle of the lube that he'd taken from under the headboard when he'd adjusted the pillow, slicked his fingers up, and plunged two fingers into Akihito's twitching rose bud.

"Hhhhnnn!" Akihito's lean frame jolted, hips pressing hard into Asami's mouth as the fingers thrust in sync.

Asami's eyes were moist. He wouldn't go as far as to call them tears but they were certainly wet. He could control the gag reflex but there was still a physiological reaction. He blinked his eyes clear but he knew Akihito saw it anyway, the way those hazel eyes stared, stunned wide.

See what I do for you? Only you, Akihito.

That seemed to be when Akihito gave in to the inevitable. He released Asami's hair to brace both hands against the wall, still thrusting to match as Asami rocked him with an arm locked about the trembling hips but otherwise letting himself go to all that Asami was giving him. Keeping the motion of his thrusting fingers deliberately light, awakening interest but not nearly enough to climax from the rear, Asami went to town making full use of his tongue and throat to blow Akihito to the heavens.

Akihito might realize now that, in the end, Akihito would always submit. But it would take time to fully understand – in submission also lay power. True, Asami's inherent disposition to dominate the world around him and everyone and everything in it would accept nothing less, but with Akihito it was more than that. His desire to possess, to consume, to enflame and wreck, to see his name tumble from Akihito's lips with the tears that he'd caused – it all hinged on Akihito's true, uninhibited pleasure. It was all about Akihito. Only Akihito.

The object of his focus came with a shattered cry, forehead pressed to the cool wall and barely managing to stay upright as his whole body convulsed. Asami swallowed him down, almost disappointed that it wasn't nearly as much as when he'd first blown Akihito in the limo. But then again, it was the third time coming this evening...

He drew it out until he was sure that Akihito was spent, then he threw the floppy man backwards. Akihito landed with his head half falling off the foot of the bed but made no attempt to move. Asami grabbed a handful of lube from the puddle on the covers, slicked himself up, then hooked up one of Akihito's knees and lined himself up.

Akihito made a sound like a grunt, a sleeved arm flung over his face. He wasn't fighting but it was more resignation than submission. It wasn't what Asami was after. Bracing himself with the arm hooking Akihito's knee up high, he used his free hand to grab the offending arm and press it into the bed. He hovered, waiting.

Hazy eyes fluttered open, focused with difficulty.

Asami still didn't move. "Didn't I promise you, I'll make you be honest?"

Those eyes widened then, with alarm and confusion both.

Exhausted, probably. Spent, definitely. Desperately needing to come, most certainly not. This was cold, hard lucidity.

"Who do you desire?"

Trembling softly, Akihito turned his head aside. Asami had ran out of hands but no matter. Deliberately gentle, he brushed his nose up the column of Akihito's neck and up the cheek, planted a kiss against the hairline. He murmured against Akihito's ear. "Who do you desire, Akihito?"

"What the hell are you asking all of a sudden?" Akihito muttered quietly, pained.

"Honesty, Akihito. Who do you desire?"

Akihito swallowed hard, covering his face with his free hand. His voice was barely audible. "... You know who."

Asami let him hide, mouthing along the jaw, behind the ear as he listened to Akihito's unsteady inhale. "Tell me."

Akihito's jaw clenched before he huffed a shaky sigh, a single breath packed with confusion and conflict and anger and need. Glaring furiously, he admitted stutteringly, grudgingly, "It's you, you damn bastard. But only 'cos your body might, kinda, sorta, rock. Just a bit. But your personality, on the other hand – man, it totally fucking sucks –"

It was with something of a growl that Asami surged forwards, himself consumed by the desire to devour this brazen, vibrant soul. He took claim, kissing Akihito deep as he thrust home.


Breathing hard, Akihito floated absurdly slowly down from his dizzying high. Asami already seemed to have recovered, Akihito could hear him brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

It had been just as intense as ever but Akihito hardly had any come left. Of course Asami had pounded and stroked him to completion heedless of his objections, even if it was mind-blankingly amazing, but seriously it was the fourth time! Tasting himself in Asami's kiss had been mortifying, he recalled now. At the time he'd been distracted by the intoxicating fullness in his ass and by Asami mapping every inch of his skin with his mouth and teeth and tantalising nails and unrelenting hands, which had apparently required removing Asami's shirt off him because it restricted access. And his ass was sore – but in a weirdly good way, like the satisfying aching after exercise. Not that he would ever, ever admit that out loud.

Asami had always had a healthy libido but this evening was just crazy, like he'd been driven over the edge with jealousy over Yumi... And Akihito's goading in the shower... And his obediently lying in bed until Asami had come to mess him up again... Shit. Was Akihito really just fleeing the prospect of another terrified scram from Kou's apartment and staring at a flickering monitor trying to ignore sleazy men not-so-discretely wanking off only a few booths over? Or did he actually want to stay? It was a sobering thought.

The sound of water stopped in the bathroom and Asami returned. Akihito rolled away with some effort, every muscle and joint protesting, but Asami pulled him back. After yanking the bed covers out from under him and off the bed, Asami easily flipped him onto his back and spread his legs –

"Wha - no! You must be kidding, you can't... Oh." Akihito's initial alarm fearing Asami was after another round melted away as Asami instead wiped his front with a warm damp flannel, gentle over his aching length. Asami even cleaned between his ass, slapping away Akihito's hands when he tried to stop him.

"You don't have to do that," Akihito grumbled, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"I know," Asami chuckled. Then, "You're welcome." He smirked at the glare he got in return as though it was what he'd been aiming for all along.

The mess was all Asami's fault in the first place! Curled on his side, Akihito tracked with his eyes as Asami took both the flannel and covers to the bathroom, fetched clean blankets from the walk-in wardrobe and roughly spread it over the bed and Akihito. Flicking off the lights, casting them into the night glow of Tokyo, Asami slid into bed and pulled an uncharacteristically pliable Akihito over his chest.


Akihito wasn't aware of falling asleep. He only knew when he scrabbled awake, fighting hundreds of invisible hands, sticky and inescapable, dodging flying bullets that curved around the twisted bodies that clawed and dragged him down into cloying dread and wailing darkness –

Gasping, his eyes shot for the front door – only to encounter space. Wide, expansive space, the shadows far at the edges – it took several heart-thumping seconds to remember that he was in Asami's bedroom. Not his tiny rundown flat, or Kou's. The spacious condo was lit by Tokyo's glow, the night sky still dark. It was quiet, an unfamiliar kind of quiet that only came with a penthouse apartment far removed above a city that never slept.

Asami had guards, Akihito reminded himself. There were no eerie hands, just the blankets tangled around his legs. Asami was warm against his side, his breathing relaxed with sleep. And, just in case... Hardly thinking about what he was doing, he leaned over Asami, slipping his hand under the pillow, reaching with fingertips –

Cold, hard metal. Lethal. Safe.

A rush of relief rendered him weak. He sagged, lying himself against Asami's chest again, pressing his cheek to the firm plane of muscle. He wasn't alone. And the gun was within Asami's reach. That was all Akihito needed to know.

Solid and soothing, slow and steady. Blinking blearily at the chiselled curve of Asami's pectoral muscle in front of his nose, he let the double thump of Asami's heartbeat drum through him, until gradually it forced his own skittering heart to slow, marching it into sync and back to order. They rose and fell together, undulating gently with Asami's every relaxed breath, the ebb and flow of a calm vast ocean, the capacity of unleashing terrible power currently dormant in sleep.

Akihito's mind untangled gradually, not just from the web of nightmares but also from the crippling grip of recent fears. Rationality returned. He hadn't felt this okay at night all week, and all just by being next to Asami. He froze. Asami... Asami –

"You're awake," he whispered, already knowing the answer before fingers carded through his hair. Of course. No way would someone like Asami sleep through someone kicking and clawing beside him...

He wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed or grateful that Asami had let him recover in peace, sparing him from being seen vulnerable. Asami held his silence, the large hand simply sliding down to rest on his back but otherwise ignoring him to all appearances.

Akihito squirmed out from under the heavy arm and slid off the bed – and promptly ended up in a heap with a surprised yelp when his hips buckled. He lay there groaning, knowing his face was flushed. Clutching at the luxurious sheets, he managed to climb back to his feet. Asami's eyes were still closed but even in the dim glow of the city Akihito could see the unmistakable lift at the corners of that mouth.

"Don't even," he warned.

The smile widened.

Akihito hobbled across the wide expanse of thick carpet, snagging and pulling on Asami's joggers on the way. The door swung on silent hinges as he let himself out and closed it behind him.


The light from a single lamp filtered in from the living room through the wide hole in the wall. Hunkered down on the cold kitchen tiles hugging his legs, the edge of a bathrobe came into view.

Asami regarded him for a while before padding into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter.

"I half expected you to try and leave again."

It was just an observation, no accusation. His baritone was soft, matching the stillness of the night.

"And how am I meant to do that when I can barely walk?" Akihito grumbled.

Asami chuckled.

"It's not funny! You have the sex drive of a teenager – or someone very hard up. Don't tell me, no one wants to sleep with you unless you force them?"

It wasn't that Akihito had intended to pick this bone with Asami, it had just sort of spilled out. Antsy from lingering fears at this time of night, unsettled by what was happening between them, his voice had come out bitter.

"No need to be jealous, you're a special case. I was interested and so were you, even if you pretended, and still pretend, otherwise. I usually have no shortage of eager partners."

Akihito scowled. "Why would I be jealous? Go sleep with whatever fool would want you."

"Is that the issue here? Exclusivity?"

"No! That's not even... The issue is you! You are the problem. You – you –" Akihito dropped his head back on his arms. "I hate you," he grumbled, muffled.

Asami's gaze was speculative as he crouched beside the bowed head. "I must have quite the effect on you to provoke such a strong feeling."

"Yeah, quite the negative effect."

A warm hand brushed up Akihito's spine, making him shiver and arch just a little. "Clearly," the older man observed drily.

Akihito didn't hit him away, just hugged his knees tighter. "Why're you doing this?"

Asami's hand slid up to the shoulder, gently kneaded the tight muscles. "Why am I touching you?"

Akihito still wasn't pushing the bastard away and he couldn't have said if it was because he knew he couldn't fight Asami off or if he didn't want to. "Just get whatever it is out of your system and let me go already."

Before it's too late, he silently added in the sanctum of his mind. But there was also another voice, quieter, nascent, vulnerable. Don't let me go.

"It's too late for that."

Akihito stared as Asami's words seemed to parallel his thoughts. What on earth was Asami really thinking? Maybe it was the witching hour stripping his reticence. Maybe it was his defences being left raw from the harrowing aftermath of recent events. Maybe it was all the unvoiced questions, all the answers he didn't have, everything coming to a head. It finally found voice, what he'd wanted to know all along.

"What am I to you?" It could break him, Akihito knew, this question.

Asami considered him, his gaze weighted and sharp. "I told you. There's only you."

"That doesn't tell me anything!"

"On the contrary, Akihito, it tells you everything." Asami's hand slid up to the crook of his neck, the grip as hard as his tone. "Only you have I brought to my home. Only you would I make cry my name and show me all of yourself. Only you have my personal protection. Only you."

Akihito's eyes were huge. Woah, heavy, was all he could think. 'Cos there was no denying it, Asami was freaking serious. "This is ridiculous. How can you even say that with a straight face? You've known me all of three weeks!"

"People can be acquainted for years and never truly know each other. Our circumstances are unusual, our bond forged in blood and fire. I'd say we've each taken the measure of the other better than most."

Fucking hell, did Asami just say bond? He did, didn't he?

"There's got to be someone who's more suited to you. You could have anyone in the world."

"And who is that supposed to be?" Asami snapped, sounding unexpectedly annoyed.

"I don't know! Someone you don't have to fight all the time, who'll do as you say –"

"Who'll bore me to the grave faster than the living I have chosen?"

Akihito searched for any signs of sarcasm but Asami's irritation seemed deadly serious. "Someone richer?" he tried.

"What use is that to me? If I wanted for more money I'd make it myself."

"Spoken as only someone with too much money could say," Akihito shook his head. "But they'll at least be used to your lifestyle. Classy, sophisticated –"

"And likely to be spoilt and demanding –"

Akihito perked up – maybe if he acted spoilt and demanding too –

"And I'd find them so irritating I'd have to shoot them," Asami added. There was a glint in his eyes as though he knew exactly what Akihito was thinking.

"You baka," Akihito mumbled. But it was sobering, Akihito could have easily fallen under that bullet too. There was the dealbreaker right there. "You do remember the trifling matter about the computer trespassing? I was investigating you, remember? I was threatening your business."

"So we had an interesting start," Asami shrugged off. "But it's in the past now."

"In the past?" Akihito scrambled up off the floor, drawing back, flushing with anger. "You're assuming I'm finished? That I'm just another one of your lackeys now?!"

Asami rose too, sighing. "That's not what I meant," he began with tight patience.

"Good," Akihito snapped. "'Cos I might have helped you – ok I might have helped you twice, but that was only because there were extremely extenuating circumstances. I'm not letting you off the hook, Asami. The moment you cross the line again I'll expose you like the rest of them seeding corruption and believing you're above the law."

Asami's smirk was indulging. "And I look forward to battling heads with you."

"You're crazy! And don't pretend like it's nothing, we're enemies. I'm never going to do as you say."

"I'm fully aware. I expect you to fight me all the way," Asami smirked, "but we both know I'll always make you submit to me by the end."

Akihito threw up his hands. "You and your one track mind! But that's what it comes down to, isn't it? If you hadn't been so eager to get in my pants I'd already be dead. Don't try to deny it!" he insisted as Asami looked set to argue. "What if I was pot-bellied and going bald? Ogawa! What if I'd been Ogawa? I seriously doubt he'd be in your kitchen right now going commando in your pants with the mother of all aching backs!"

Asami seemed torn whether to laugh or be flaming mad. He settled for advancing instead, trapping Akihito against the counter. "Do you live your life on what ifs, Akihito? There's an endless number of things that could have transpired, but they didn't." He fisted Akihito's hair, drawing him roughly forwards. "You, me, here. This is the reality, Akihito."

Akihito yelped as he was suddenly grabbed and hoisted over a broad shoulder. "Hey, put me down!"

Asami carted him out into the living room. "You should be grateful. I was about to take you right there but I'm being considerate of your mother of all aching backs."

A bolt of genuine alarm charged through Akihito. Flailing got him precisely nowhere as Asami headed for his bedroom with his cargo. "Then be considerate enough not to take me at all!" But Asami continued undeterred to his bedroom. Akihito felt like he might cry, he seriously couldn't take anymore. "Damn it, Asami, don't do this." His voice wobbled just a little.

"You're clearly still under the delusion that this is less than what it is."

"Then let's talk about it! You don't have to go all Neanderthal on me – ooffh!" He broke off with a grunt as Asami threw him on the bed. He scurried away but his ankle was caught and he was yanked back. Somewhere between struggling completely in vain and having the pants being dragged off, he ended up on his front.

Asami pinned him down by the neck, leaning close. "Are you going to quieten down or need I secure you?"

Akihito stilled at the warning, his heart thumping. He glared out of the corner of his eye. "How can this be anything more when you keep doing this?"

Asami drew away, shedding his bathrobe, casting the impressive contours of his body in accentuated shadows from the Tokyo nightscape. Akihito had to turn his head away. The sight was making his dick stir, even sore and aching as he was. He heard the slide of a drawer, the pop of a lid, the slick sound of something wet. He covered his eyes with a hand, seeking refuge in the darkness.

After a moment warm hands slid up from his ankles, up the calves, the backs of his thighs, his ass, all the way up his back. The slow, firm pressure travelled all the way back down and all the way back up again. A firm squeeze took some of the tension from his shoulders as he lay there naked, waiting for the inevitable.

"Haven't you had enough?"

Asami's weight settled over him, the whole of Asami's front pressed against the whole of his back, Asami's legs spreading his knees as wide as they could go while staying flat on the bed. There was an unmistakable nudge against his aching puckered entrance.

"Wait! Asami? But..." Asami wasn't even going to prepare him? So he might be soft from all the times earlier, but still...!

Asami's voice was warm in his ear. "Relax for me now."

"Asami..."

"Let me in, Akihito," Asami rumbled in his ear softly, coaxing.

Slow, steady, unrelenting, Asami pressed in. Akihito tried to breathe, tried to relax, trembled, tried to breathe again. It was all he could do, bearing the burn as Asami pressed mercilessly slowly and stretched him.

"Just like that. Take me to the hilt."

"It hurts."

"Ride the pain, Akihito," Asami rumbled as his weight imprinted onto the slender back. "Let your tears go, knowing only I can drive you to them. Feel me, feel this, and let yourself go."

Akihito huffed into the sheets, robbed of any air to even make a snarky comment.

"Feel everything I give you."

With a last nudge Asami was fully sheathed. He remained still as Akihito panted shallowly, stroking large hands over the trembling sides and along his arms, feathering over the bandage. Teeth nipped Akihito's ear, a warm tongue distracted at his neck. Asami waited until Akihito was breathing easier, until the smaller man had stopped shaking, still waiting until the tight squeeze on his shaft had eased off being painful, before he began to move.

He pulled almost all the way out before sliding fluidly to the hilt again, steady and deep as he thrust Akihito into the bed, forcing a moan from between Akihito's parted lips, half pain, a little arousal. Skin against skin, their bodies slid against each other as Asami pressed his weight into the lithe back, rubbing Akihito's sensitive front against the covers in turn. His growing length, nipples, all his skin, it was a gentle stimulation that carried him with each drive of Asami's hips like rolling waves, each higher than the last, until the soreness became an arousing counterpoint to the rushing pleasure, until Akihito was awash with his own craving and pressing his head against Asami.

Dominating and relentless as ever, but endlessly patient, waiting for Akihito to catch up and match his need, Asami took without permission but gave back the same and more. Sandwiched between the soft bed and Asami's hard lines, pressed down by Asami's weight, Akihito felt smothered. But rather than being suffocating, it was comforting. All Asami allowed Akihito to feel was Asami and what Asami was doing to him, like a shield shutting out the world and all its threats and fears.

Turning his head, Akihito glanced out of the corner of his eye to find himself caught in a web of gold. There was still a tendril of anger there, but it was held back with that indulgence that ensured Akihito's pleasure. The dark hair was flopped over Asami's eyes, making him look younger. Softer, even. They shared a look full of desire and too much of something meaningful that made Akihito turn away uncomfortably. Asami reached for his chin, tipping Akihito's head round and back and up as he caught him in a deep, slightly off-centre kiss. Dominated, filled deeply at both ends, it bolted like lightning to his pelvis and Akihito moaned into Asami's mouth.

Never upping the pace, still steady and deep and unrelenting, Asami slid large hands over Akihito's, entwining fingers. Teeth scraped Akihito's ear.

"Who can give you such pleasure as this? Tell me, Akihito."

Akihito groaned, pressing his forehead into the sheets. "You have a bad habit of talking at the worst moments."

"Tell me," Asami demanded.

"It's not like you need an ego boost or anything. Just get this over with."

"And you have appalling manners," Asami observed as a tight fist gripped his hair and drew his head back sharply.

"Ah...!"

Golden eyes burned into Akihito. "Who can give you the pleasure you need, Akihito? Who can make you beg for release?

Akihito grit his teeth. "You do."

"Who can keep you safe?"

Akihito's eyes widened, rocked by Asami's unrelenting thrusts. His breath huffed softly in time. "You do."

Asami's baritone was steel. "And who else? Who else can touch you? Who else can shield you?"

Akihito couldn't answer, shaken at what Asami was demanding, the serious intensity of those golden orbs not letting him go.

"Who else, Akihito?"

There was still the possibility that he was a stop-gap until Asami's interest transferred elsewhere. But smothered by Asami's weight that was just on the other side of comfortable, unable to quite draw a full breath, stunned that he seemed to be accepting Akihito exactly as he was, Z4m4 M1r0 and all, he dared to risk the chance that Asami might just mean things at face value.

"... Only you."

There was a flash of blazing gold before Asami tipped his head down and captured his lips as he drove them both to a rolling, surging climax, snapping his hips, pounding the smaller man into the bed, swallowing the desperate cries as he let the friction of the sheets finally send Akihito over the edge.

Akihito cried out, tears spilling from more than just the sheer climax, as Asami crushed him with his own guttural release.


The fingers brushing through Akihito's hair wasn't entirely unusual, but the tight grip that followed was unexpected and had the effect of zeroing his attention right out of his exhausted haze and back on Asami.

"You'll remember this, Akihito," Asami rumbled in his ear. "There is no other. Even in the light of day I won't let you forget."

Only then did Asami release him, easing out of him and shifting off the bed. Akihito's mind spun as he wondered just what it was that he had capitulated to in the heat of the moment... He was still lying there when Asami returned with a flannel. His face was clouded, he simply watched as Asami rolled him onto his back. Akihito himself hadn't had any cum left, it had been a dry orgasm, but Asami still cleaned off the lube and cum dribbling out of his ass with the same care as before. And again Asami pulled him half over his chest to sleep.

It threw him for six.

Akihito lay there staring up at his partial profile, his mind wondering, uncertainties chasing each other through his mind.

From the heart, I want you to know
All I really want
Is to see the real you

The song from Kou's party rang in his mind. Relentless in pursuit but unshakable in protecting Akihito, the sadistic darkness that wasn't hidden from him while surrounding him with confounding warmth. Maybe Asami's real self had been right before Akihito's eyes this whole time.

Was he reading it right? He couldn't help wondering if seeing him with Yumi, and his urging on finding a more 'suitable' partner, had made Asami uncertain of his own impact on Akihito's sphere of life. And somehow, even to such a powerful crime lord, this impact mattered.

Or more likely this was just the post-sex afterglow and Akihito would kick himself seven ways to hell in the morning for being taken for a fool. He should be hightailing it out of there, getting as far away from this dangerous bastard as he could. There was no way Asami meant the words he'd said, no way he could possibly have meant –

"Stop thinking," came Asami's voice in the gloom, rough with encroaching sleep.

Akihito frowned. It wasn't like he could just stop –

"You can have at me in the morning. Let it be for now." A musclebound arm settled heavy over Akihito's back.

Something about those words, letting Akihito be who he was, stubborn defiance and all, was a balm soothing the mayhem of his mind. It turned out that he could just stop.

Calmed by the weight and scent that was quickly becoming a sense of familiarity, exhaustion and post-multiple-orgasm haze dulled his thoughts. He lay there listening to Asami's strong pulse, his cheek pressed against Asami's chest. The last thing he remembered was a hand carding through his hair as he drifted off.

Golden eyes slitted open in the dark, watching the blond head of hair gently rising and falling with their every breath.