Hello! Long time no see!
Sorry, I only had so much time left living in Japan so to make the most of it I had to totally boycott the world of fujoshi - it was tough but here we are! A new chappie!
Sorry for any mistakes, I wrote this in a rush! Please enjoy x
Warnings: swearing, description of drug withdrawal, mild Yaoi.
}xXx{
"Ah-! Gross, look! That homeless guy looks like he's totally wet himself, that's disgusting!-And ugh, is that blood?"
"Wha-ah-s-shut up! He might hear you and come over…!"
The figures laugh nervously and hunch together further over their food and the small table, looking back once more at the pitiful form rooting through the trash outside of a well known fast food chain's restaurant, where they had been sat eating. The bedraggled boy manages to grab a small collection of left over fries, half chewed meat, bones and cartilage before he's interrupted, shoo'd along angrily by the stores manager for the second time today - the homeless man finally leaving for good and going on his way, finally ridding the place of his disturbing appearance and no longer disturbing the fast food joint's customers as he blindly stumbles away through the streets of Tokyo. Blindly searching, marching towards his goal.
His short, raspy breaths wheeze out of his dry, cracked lips as he scurries along countless street after street. Tired, so tired - knowing he could just stop for a few minutes. Just sit and rest his eyes as his fatigued muscles and weary legs scream more and more with every small step he takes forward, always forward, always forging forward because he can't stop - not until he's found it. Sion, Asami.
He's been walking for hours, days or weeks maybe - he doesn't know anymore, not being able to keep track of how many times the world turned from dark to light and back to dark again. He's been marching silently on, body jittery and mind numb ever since he managed to escape from those people, that man - the man that had somehow separated him from the place he needs to get back to, to Sion. He knows that, somehow.
It had been bearable then, even with the the constant nagging feeling at the depths of his mind, this itching, growing sense of need slowly creeping its way to the forefront of his mind. But he needs it now, he knows - he needs even more of those injections, pills, needs more of that feeling of that person, that warmth so close to him. Surrounding him. So confusing, but how can he have more of that feeling without those drugs - the drugs that let him feel that, again. He gets pills sometimes, when he's managed to steal or pick-pocket enough to please the dealers he encounters and he gets just a few of those little blue, white or brown pills - the ones that make the noises all go away - the constant calling, gnawing, scratching. His mind telling him to run. Run to him again - to Sion, Asami.
But he can't right run now, he can't do anything, he's tired - so tired. Only eating that small amount of leftovers in the past few days. Only sleeping a few minutes.
His last thought before he collapses in a heap, in the dark - his frail body falling into piles of rotting trash and soiled cardboard and broken beer bottles outside some seedy bar - is that he just needs rest, he knows, just for a few minutes - before he starts marching again. Always moving….
To Sion, to Asami…
Akihito wakes up with a start in the dark, His body on fire, burning, even though he's cold, so cold that he's freezing - he must be because he's shivering so badly. He aches, his muscles and bones so tired and protesting each time he takes a shuddering breath in - and out, and as he tries to raise himself up off the bed it's even worse. He doesn't register the arm that his head had been resting on, his lovers relaxed, muscular body that he had been resting against, entwined with as he shakily, quietly moves himself to stand, the man beside him only grunting, continuing to sleep - exhausted. Shifting though for a moment as if searching for something, before settling again into a deep slumber.
Akihito moves without thought to his room, naked in the temperature controlled penthouse but his body still trembling as if in sub zero temperatures - with only one goal in mind. The pink pill Kirishima had left for him on the nightstand.
He makes it to his room, collecting his treasure from the desk before scrambling onto his single bed in the dark, hands fumbling for the small pill and glass of water as he swallows it with haste, almost choking in his attempt to flush it down quicker, needing it to work faster - needing it to work now.
He discards the glass and remaining water aside, unmindful of where it lands and takes a deep, shuddering breath, willing himself to calm as he hugs his knees to his chest on his single bed - and demands more of himself than this.
He fidgets for some time in the dark, limbs jittery as he sits under the pale moonlight filtering in through the blinds, hoping for the effects to kick in soon, soon, please soon and he debates going to settle back in with Asami to help soothe him back to sleep but for some reason he just feels so weird, frantic - he's not calming down like he usually does.
He scrubs his face in his hands and shakes his head, just trying to master himself, get control over his own body even as he wants to cry and scream and hit out at how much his whole body is craving more, more, more pills! Just one more, anything. Just one more of anything it doesn't matter what!
He gets up off the bed with one destination in mind, his awareness numb and memory failing him, Akihito failing to recall how just a few hours ago, Kirishima had told him it would be hard, that it would feel like he was dying but that Akihito had to fight to win command over his own addiction. His brain, his urges that tell him that he will need to have more drugs - but, now that now he has his mind back he really has a choice - but again, right now - Akihito can only think one thing.
And that's that he wants to not feel like this - he feels like he's dying and the only way he can stop that feeling is more drugs, pills.
Pills that he knows are in the bathroom cabinet.
He blindly stumbles past Asami's room and heads for the bathroom, only pausing to clumsily turn on the light and lock the door before he launches himself at the medicine cabinet, ignoring the ghostly reflection of himself in the glass as he swings it open to reveal -
Nothing.
None of the usual painkillers, flu tablets or headache medication that he knows is usually there. There's nothing. Fucking nothing! He cracks a laugh when he notices one innocuous item left right at the bottom of the cabinet as if to mock him, a small bottle of tablets Akihito remembers buying himself and placing there, years ago - chewable vitamin C tablets, one's that by now are probably well past their sell-by-date.
He thumbs over the label on the small, garishly coloured bottle. The label still sticking up at a corner exactly how he remembers it.
Did Asami mean to keep these?
A small noise, something between a sob and a sigh escapes Akihito as he's hit by a sudden rush of feeling and emotion that threatens to bring him to his knees. He feels so guilty, so unsure. He's home - here with Asami again, finally. How can he be so pathetic as to be routing through the drug cabinet like this on the off chance of finding drugs. Drugs that he would have never even touched if it wasn't for those people. That man.
Drürer.
He sobs now, angry and bangs his fist - pill pot and all - onto the counter, spilling the pills all over the floor and sink with a pop and he bites off a curse at the prospect of waking Asami up to possibly have the man see this, see Akihito in all his shame and embarrassment, searching desperately during the night through the penthouse looking for drugs and looking every bit like the drug addict he is.
He sinks onto the floor with the pill pot to hastily try and scoop up all the pale little pills. The artificial, sweet smelling, orange flavoured tablets crack under his knees even as he tries to avoid them and he curses to himself again as he starts to finally, feel the effects of the pink pill he had taken earlier, thanking all the adrenaline in his system for delaying the effects.
Well he guesses, maybe he has Asami to partly blame for the adrenaline part.
He just tries to sweep the pills aside now with haste, hiding the tablets, tiny powdery crushed fragments and all near the bath, pushing them towards the drain recessed into the floor - not thinking clearly and getting more and more drowsy as he grows more desperate, not wanting to face Asami like this, not wanting to explain.
He figures that he can wash them away with water, the tiled floor and the slight slope aiding him to hide the evidence as he throws the pill pot onto the small shelf, the thing landing with a small clatter next to the cute soap dispensers he doesn't notice are still there.
He Turns on the water and tries to wash the pills away, swaying slightly and blinking furiously to just try and stave off tiredness for a few more precious seconds. He turns his head, thinking that he hears banging, a voice, but he shakes his head and gets back to his task - having to brace himself on an arm soon after as the hand holding the shower head falls numbly towards the cold tiles, the rest of his body following soon after.
Into blessed silence.
}xXx{
Asami Ryuichi.
If you were to Ask Asami Ryuichi if he were a hard man to shock, an impossible person to surprise, and scare - he would say (with a smirk) absolutely, no.
If you were to ask him then that, well - if tonight his heart had stopped, stuttered and then stumbled and raced, galloped upon waking up during the night to find his lover once again missing -
To looking, panicked, all over the huge apartment for him until hearing the unmistakable noise of a pill pot being spilled from the bathroom, water running.
To knocking, calling - and getting no answer.
To breaking open the door to seeing your lover, naked and unconscious - pale and sprawled on the cold floor, surrounded by unidentified pills.
If you asked him if that was the most scared he had been in his entire life - he would probably say, yes.
Scared that he had managed to live without Akihito, barely, that he had got Akihito back, finally - but only to perhaps lose him once again.
He had checked Akihito's airways next, plucking up the pill pot from the shelf with an urgency rarely seen to examine what the boy had taken only to find the product harmless, the sodden, half dissolved contents scattered over the floor. He had looked up furiously at the medicine cabinet, eyes searching for the culprit, only to find the whole thing otherwise empty. Nothing there. He had checked the rest of the room, cast his eyes around every corner, every hiding place and even inside the toilet before he had returned to Akihito and grasped his face, dragging it towards him so he could hastily raise one eyelid at a time to check his pupils, to then feel the pulse at his neck. Slow and steady.
Strong.
He lets out a long, relieved breath, finding he can breathe again, maybe the boy really did just pass out…
He lifts the cold, pale body gently in his arms, looking on with so much concern that he knows he would never show when the kid was awake, but showing it now without care as he places him back in the large, warm bed and pulls up the covers, grabbing his phone soon after from where he had thrown it in the living room to call Kirishima's cell. The man somewhere noisy.
Kirishima looks at Suoh before looking back down to his cellphone, where it had been set on the bar top in between them in the dingy Izakaya where they've been since leaving Asami's place. Some three and a bit hours ago. They both take a breath as the bespectacled secretary answers - the two expecting a call form the man. But will it be good news, or bad.
"…Asami-sama."
Kirishima takes a breath as he hears his boss do the same, closing his eyes to what he thinks will follow. An order to bring Kaede to the penthouse.
"Kirishima, Takaba is at the apartment. He's unconscious after taking something, I don't think it's life threatening but get-"
Suoh, who is regarding his colleague closely over the rim of his beer glass, heaves a sigh of sheer relief when he sees Kirishima practically sag in his chair at the news, that Takaba is still comfortably situated in the penthouse, albeit once more under the influence of the sedative but at least he has been - seemingly at least - accepted back into Asami's life. This doesn't seem like a call requesting that new kid anyway.
"Ah, Asami-sama - please let me explain. Takaba is quite alright, all precautions to remove any harmful substances were taken care of earlier this evening. Right now he will just be sleeping off the last of the sedatives I left for him."
Asami stops, frowning down at Akihito who still lay fast asleep for a moment before he can function again, leaning down to run a hand gently through the soft tawny blonde hair - a stark contrast to the ice cold voice that questions his right hand man. His hushed, menacing whisper sending shivers down Kirishima's spine. He needs answers.
"Kirishima, you-"
He Manages to get out through clenched teeth before a slight cough and noise of nervous shifting catches his attention and over the line Kirishima fortifies himself once more, a stern nod with Suoh and he's steeled his spine once again.
"Asami-sama, please may I suggest that I come by first thing in the morning to deliver a small quantity of narcotics which will be the next stage in Takaba's planned rehabilitation. I assure you, he is fine - Suoh and myself will explain everything then (and I beg your pardon for undermining you in this way) I assure you we had our reasons. My apologies and tomorrow, tomorrow I shall take any punishment you see fit for my insolence."
He breathes, bracing himself, half expecting Asami to start berating him down the line - to have some reaction to this impossible news, this scheme that his two trusted men had pulled off involving his seemingly dead lover - but there's nothing, not one word. Asami only takes a moment to breathe and take it all in, looking down at Akihito and running a hand silently through his hair again, almost seemingly to reaffirm his existence before he deems to speak - a low, measured and succinct order to his men to report to the penthouse at ten sharp to explain themselves.
He hangs up, all sorts of mixed thoughts, feelings racing through his mind of what, who - how. How and why have his men done this, how did they accomplish this miracle?
He places his phone down on his bedside table, not daring to take his eyes from Akihito for even a second in the pale moonlight as he settles in beside him once more - not daring to sleep as he takes his boy into his arms and warms the cold, clammy skin against him with his own.
}xXx{
"…ito…"
"…e….up…."
Something scratchy tickles Akihito's neck as he lays enveloped in the most welcome, implacable warmth surrounding him and he squirms against it, absently smiling as the sculpted body pillow behind him hums and leans in to kiss him again, this time the small chaste kisses turning into something more, wetter, more vicious and the man can't help but help grab Akihito and hold him tightly, turning the boy's face to his to claim his lips with his own making Akihito's eyes open in surprise, holding his lovers gaze for a moment before melting again.
'I'm here,' he says silently. 'I'm finally home.'
They kiss unhurriedly, languidly and Akihito nuzzles into the older mans muscular chest, his neck and the the spot he had been dreaming about for years while Asami tightens his grip on the wayward photographer, the boy turning into his embrace. Asami keeps an unrelenting grip on the boy as he holds him to his chest and breathes him in, thanking those unknown heavenly observers for this - surely - undeserving gift.
"….Akihito…I want to know what happened to you. What took you from Sion that day…"
There's a hitch in Akihito's breath - the boy remembering that yes, there is more to this than the happy reunion. That the last two years of his life had been stolen, that they had been nothing but hell and that he needs to gain closure now both for his sake and Asami's. Flashes of his dream come back to him and shame makes his eyes shut tight against the flood of blurred memories he'd rather keep forgotten if he could but he nods silently against Asami's skin, clutching the man tighter and trying so hard to recall more - only small snippets coming back to him of those men and what they had done. He mumbles what he can remember - the man coming into the office with the sudden news that Asami had been shot, that it was bad. Being lead the other way down the corridor from the mans office to enter the service area - making it half way down the building before he started to come out of his initial shock and question the man but by then - it being already too late. The chloroform covered cloth was over his mouth a second later.
He gulps. Not quite remembering what comes next, but the dark terror he feels suddenly at the thought tells him it's bad.
Asami feels hot tears hit his neck and he squeezes Akihito tight - placing kisses into his hairline, whispering that he's safe now.
Akihito only whimpers, unable to talk. And hugs Asami tighter.
"Through, through it t-though - even when I felt myself slipping. When I lost myself. All I could think of was this place called Sion. A man named Asami. I didn't know why but, but I just had to get back to those things. I escaped when there had been some delay in the…the dosage, the drugs they were giving me. I looked everywhere, all over Tokyo for so, so long until I finally saw the sign. Sion."
"Did you try to go in?"
Asami says, eyes sharp, wrathful and the man already growing enraged at the thought of Akihito being turned away by one of his men - but the boy shakes his head against him. sighing and laughing through the tears. So embarrassed to be admitting this to Asami, his life for the past two years.
"No…I um, I don't even know if I tried to go in. Kirishima told me I was pick-pocketing people, your customers. But I don't really remember that, I think I was too out of it…"
Asami again kisses the mussed head of hair resting under his chin, urging his brave, resilient Akihito to go on. A hand running through the freshly coloured locks relaxes the boy further into his hold, the tension seeping away and the tears flowing faster as he can feel, rather than hear that Asami accepts him - again, no matter what - no matter what disgusting things those people did to him or what they turned him into. He sobs once, choked - Akihito trying to keep his control, he's just so grateful that Asami would still want him. That he hasn't cast him away.
"Kirishima will be dropping by in a couple of hours with something for you, you've been going through withdrawal?"
A voice rumbling through the thick chest below him brings Akihito out of his reverie, the boy nodding and swallowing past the lump in his throat, shame once again making it so hard to talk.
"Mmm. I don't know when it started….the drugs. I was injected with so much - with something, I - I lost my mind. I just knew that when I got away I still needed something, that I still need the p-pills, now…I don't even know what, what they are…."
"….It's alright…you'll beat this Akihito. You will."
With a final squeeze of Asami's torso, Akihito raises his head to smile, albeit brokenly at Asami. So thankful that he can be here like this, that Asami hasn't kicked him out and that the man had cared, had hope enough have kept his things and room the way he left it. He kisses Asami and whispers a quiet 'thank you' - Asami not letting the photographer get too far before he draws his face back and they kiss more deeply, a slow glide of tongues and unhurried meeting of lips as the strong, sure hands of Akihito's lover roam over his skin, reclaiming - reaffirming.
They kiss for so long, until Akihito is hard against Asami's hip and he can feel Asami is in very much the same state too, judging by the sizeable tent in the fur throw draped over them. Akihito shifts the fabric and his body to meet with Asami's scorching flesh, legs straddling the mans hips as he lays against him to kiss his lover and Asami cups the peach like ass in his hands, grinding their cocks together teasingly. Building tension, sharing breaths. Small, knowing smiles as the reality of the moment hits both the men hard - Asami moving his hand to fist them both together to a soft, shuddering climax.
Panting gently, Akihito shyly buries his head in the valley between Asami's neck and the plumped cotton pillow below, causing the older man to laugh wickedly at his boys bashfulness - his Akihito's purity, his spirit still mercifully unaffected by his long ordeal. His boy still as perfect and as blindingly bright as he always has been. The return of Takaba Akihito.
They lay in silence for some time, both lost in their own thoughts until Asami laughs, more to himself than to Akihito, the man recalling something amusing from earlier that night. He draws his lovers curiosity.
"...What?"
"Hm, you're the Chihuahua…I should've known..."
Akihito flips him off, plopping his head back down onto Asami's chest in a mock grump, causing the man to laugh again. The soothing sound reverberating through his chest like music to Akihito's ears.
They take their time to shower, to dress, Asami not taking his eyes off the wayward photographer for even a moment as he prepares Akihito coffee whilst the younger man himself insists on preparing breakfast, just like he used to - but looking back to Asami with a mixture of both shock and disapproval when he opens the fridge to find it completely devoid of food, the sleek machine only containing the bare basics - beer and Champagne. The man smirks, knowing exactly the scolding look he's being given and he puts in a quick call. A swift order for Kirishima to pick up breakfast for four on his way to the penthouse.