Disclaimer: Viewfinder belongs to Yamane Ayano

Hey guys, I know that I haven't written anything for a while. So I hope this chapter, although a tad short, will get my writing mood into gear again.

Peek-A-Boo I See You

Akihito saw her just as class had ended. The professor had already dismissed everyone, and students were filing out, some milling about. That was when he saw her walk pass his seat. As if instinctively, reflexively, his feet moved of their own accord and he found himself catching up to her. His hand reached out and grabbed her arm. She yelped, and then turned around. His heart beat wildly when he saw her face.

He had not seen Mika for years.

Just thinking about those times past made him tremble slightly. Memories, strong tidal waves of them, resurfaced and surged up from the door that he had long tried to shackle down.

The look she had on her face made it worse. It was shock. Not the kind of shock you receive from not seeing someone for a long time. Not the kind of shock due to changes. No, it was the kind of shocked face you see when you realize that the person was befuddled, bewildered at your very presence. It was her way of saying I can't believe I'd ever see you again.

Once more, it felt as if he had died to her.

It was as if the person that he had once been before everything had happened had died. And the person she was staring at was a ghost.

He had never been close to Mika. They were distant cousins, and rarely saw each other, only during times when they had family gatherings at the main house. She was several years older, but Akihito remembered her from the other throng of unknown relatives because she was kind to him. And never in his wildest dreams would he ever imagine that he would see the look of guilt that flashed over her face like it did then.

They ditched their next class and headed for a nearby café across the street. After the surprise wore away, Akihito felt as if he was meeting a stranger, one whom he had known in a previous life but knew nothing of now. They both took sips of their drink, each waiting for the other one to speak first.

It was Mika who began. "I'm so sorry," she confessed. "I feel so ashamed to see you after what happened." Her faced flushed and she lowered her head, eyes starring a hole into her lap.

The images of the past relived themselves inside of his mind and Akihito closed his eyes to ward them off. He didn't want to remember. It was too painful. "It's not your fault." What else could he say?

"It's just that I thought that I'd never see you again." Her face shot up and she slid her hand tentatively across the small table to reach his fingers. "How are you doing?"

…..

Mika looked at him from across the table. He looked so different; no longer that bright little boy that she remembered all those years ago. He looked older. More refined. She took in the expensive watch he wore, the brands of his clothes, and the air of wealth around him. She knew who had given them to him: Asami Ryuuichi.

Although she wasn't there the day she heard he was taken away, she was nevertheless surprised at the ultimatum Asami had made. But it cleared her father's life, secured her family another day to live instead of being hunted down like animals, and for that she was grateful. She never bothered to think about what had happened to that boy.

Until now.

Asami had been good to him, it seemed. And that fact left her slightly bewildered. The boy looked well. He was even attending school, and not just any school. Mika barely made it in. Her parents had to bribe the head director, and that alone had cost a small fortune.

During their conversation, where only trivialities were brought up, none of them mentioned anything relating to Asami or the family. And then halfway into answering questions about her day, her phone rang. She looked at the caller I.D:

Shit, it was him again.

…..

Asami was nibbling on his neck, and very slowly ghosted his way to a shoulder; sliding the shirt he wore to the side to expose more skin. Ever since the older man gave him a blow job – a wonderful fantastic orgasmic explosion that made him see white and pant and moan and bite his lips until they bled from the memory – Akihito was more willing with Asami's advances.

They weren't overly sexual, and nothing went beyond hot kisses and groping hands. But the day's events and seeing Mika had made him sit there like a dud while Asami harassed him. It was not until a large hand traveled underneath the shirt to twist at a nipple did Akihito gasp in surprise.

Asami pushed him back onto the couch, rolled his shirt up past his nipples, and started sucking on a coral nub.

Akihito squirmed and started thrashing about. His movements created a friction that Asami only happily encouraged: thighs going in between the boy's legs and spreading them, thrusting his hips against that thin pelvis to elicit a pair of hands in his hair, building a motion that made Akihito so hard he could barely move. Precum stained the front of his pants, his eyes went wide, mouth open and slack, back arching up against the couch, and then suddenly he slid back down languid as a cat, breath heavy.

Asami then continued his earlier ministrations on Akihito's neck, paying attention to a particular dip just above the collarbone.

"Did I distract you from your distractions?" he whispered in the boy's red-stained ear.