Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

Contains: coarse language

Summary: Fisrt contact

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Yamane Ayano, not me.

Author's Note: I think this will end up at around five chapters according to my current outline, but don't hold me to that!

The setting sun looked as if it was floating in the water; a bloated, pinkish-orange circle that looked too pretty to be real against the backdrop of faded blues, purples and pinks that spread across the arc of the sky. Juxtaposed against the stark lines of the warehouses lining the harbor, and the blunt, ugly barges lumbering out into the bay, it made for just the kind of interesting shot Akihito wanted. He snapped several pictures, then crouched down to capture a different angle.

Movement below him attracted his attention. Two men walked toward the large warehouse that fronted the water and paused before one of the large iron bollards lining the pier. A bright flash hit Akihito's eyes when one of the men removed a lighter from his pocket, reflecting the low sun's rays. Their long shadows stretched out behind them, an elongated mirror of their silhouetted figures. Akihito couldn't resist taking the shot of the compelling picture.

It was enough. He already had hundreds of images to go through, and the light was fading fast. He wasn't equipped to take good night shots at the moment, so he carefully put his camera away and slung the bag across his shoulder, pleased with his day's work. The cries of the seagulls made him shiver a little as the sun slipped lower, the mournful sound sending a ripple down his spine.

He leaned against the railing of the rooftop and watched the final few minutes until the sun slipped beneath the horizon, and all that was left in the sky was a diffuse blush of light, going a deeper purplish gray with every passing moment. Time to get going. Quickly but quietly, he scampered down the fire escape. He hadn't exactly asked permission to be here, and he didn't want any trouble. Yama-san would have his head if got into a mess now after all his efforts to knock some sense into it in the first place.

Akihito grinned as he jumped from the last landing, steadying himself before rounding the corner. His shots were going to be really cool, though.

His eager jog around the building was halted when he met with a solid chest that sent him flying back on his ass. He gaped up at the blond giant who reached down, face impassive, and hauled him back to his feet, leaving his camera bag on the ground.

Flustered, Akihito, bobbed down in an abrupt bow, or tried to as best he could considering the man still had a firm hold on his arm. "Sorry! I'm really sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

The man said nothing, just reeled Akihito in, one hand clamped firmly around his bicep.

"Hey!" Akihito reached up in a futile effort to pry the fingers loose, an edge of confusion and apprehension beginning to send his heart rate higher. "Let go! I said I was sorry!"

Instead of letting go, the man twisted him around, took hold of his other arm, and pulled his wrist behind his back. Akihito struggled more earnestly until his wrist was pulled higher, causing a sharp pain in Akihito's shoulder.

"Aaah! Stop it! What do you think you're doing?"

"Settle down," the man finally said. "The boss will be here in a minute."

"The boss? What the hell are you talking about?"

Akihito swore and writhed, but soon gave that up as another wrench of his arm made him cry out at the flaring pain.

"Bastard! Did that bad bleach job sizzle your brain or something? Let me go!"

A smooth chuckle made him go still. Akihito heard the crunch of gravel, and two other men came around the brute holding him.

"What have we here? A stray cat?"

The taller of the two new arrivals took a stance in front of Akihito, eyes raking over him in seeming amusement, but not missing a thing. Akihito's chest was rising and falling rapidly as the adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream. Was this the blond guy's boss, then? Fear, only now really beginning to bloom inside his gut, made his breath short, his knees feel shaky, but his chin came up, eyebrows drawing down over his eyes as he tried to stare the man down.

The man's smile grew more pronounced at the show of defiance. He stepped in for a closer, slower look, taking in the subtle heave of Akihito's chest, the faint tremble in the fingers of the hand not secured behind his back, the mussed state of Akihito shirt, and the way it rode up on his midriff. With his artist's eye, Akihito couldn't help but take notice of the unusual golden brown color of his eyes as they locked on Akihito's and his striking good looks that were only enhanced by the intimidating aura he exuded. But those thoughts quickly fled when the man deliberately ran a fingertip along the exposed skin between the bottom of his t-shirt and the waistband of his jeans.

"Wh-what…"

The confusion and uncertainty in Akihito's face and voice evoked an infuriating smirk that had Akihito's back up again at once.

"What the hell? Let me go already!" He jerked angrily in the blond man's grip. "Look, I know I didn't get permission to be up there. I'm sorry. I just wanted to take some pictures."

"Right, the pictures." The man sounded almost jovial, as if they were the best of friends and were only making light-hearted conversation. "Is this your camera?"

He bent to retrieve it, passing the bag over to the man wearing glasses who stood a few steps back . "Nice. Looks expensive."

"Yeah, it is. So hands off." Akihito glared.

The man laughed. "Relax, I'll take good care of it. And in return, won't you tell me who sent you out here?"

"Nobody sent me out here, you jerk! Are you crazy? I came on my own."

With frightening speed, Akihito found himself slammed back against the wall of the building, the man's hand pinning him there easily; every heavy, rapid thud of Akihito's heart drumming hard against the flat of his palm. The blond man and the one with glasses came up on either side of him, hemming Akihito in.

"Who sent you?" The man's voice was still calm, soft, but it held a barely leashed power and warning that made Akihito shiver.

"N-no one. H-honest. Well, my teacher gave the class the assignment, but he didn't tell me to come here specifically."

"Your teacher?" The pressure on his chest eased slightly.

Akihito nodded. "My photography teacher. It's for a project. I thought I could get some good shots here."

The man's unnerving gaze held him for another tense moment, and then he let his hand drop. Akihito's heart stuttered as he reached into his jacket, but he only pulled out a box of cigarettes and slipped one between his lips. The blond man offered a light, and it was only after he had taken a drag that he laughed softly, eyes lit up with amusement again.

Now that his heart had stopped threatening to beat out of his chest, Akihito could truly process that all of them, but especially the man standing in front of him, were were wearing expensive suits and emitting an aura that screamed bad news, as if that hadn't already been made abundantly clear. Shit. What had he gotten himself into? He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what these men looked like.

"Little boys should be careful where they play."

"I'm not a little boy!" Akihito bristled, stepping away from the wall, his good sense and self-preservation taking a back seat to his hot-headedness once again. "And I'm not playing."

The man gestured as his two henchmen or goons or whatever ever the hell they were moved to restrain Akihito again. Akihito shot them nasty glares as they backed off at the signal.

An elegantly-shaped eyebrow rose, mocking him. "Oh, is that right? How old are you, then?"

"I'm twenty, asshole."

Both eyebrows went up, this time evincing skepticism.

"Almost twenty," Akihito admitted grudgingly.

"Almost, hm?"

He could see the laughter in the man's eyes.

"Give me back my camera." He held his hand out and glared up into those eyes that made him feel so uncomfortable.

"Manners." The man made a tsking sound. "You're in my territory, little alley cat. Why don't you tell me your name first if you want this back." He lifted the camera just out of reach, watching Akihito with an infuriating smirk.

His eyes narrowed, but he knew he didn't have much choice. "Tanaka. Tanaka Aki—Akira."

The man's lips twitched, as if he knew Akihito had given him a false name, but he nodded, handing the camera over the guy with glasses. Before Takaba knew it, he was hauled forward against the man's chest. Shocked, he went rigid, his nose pressing against the tailored suit. He could smell expensive aftershave, smoke, the scent of the man's skin itself. But it was the hands that slipped into the back pocket of his jeans that made his mind go blank; the slow intimate glide of fingers over the curve of his ass that choked the air out of him.

"Wh—Wha…" he finally stuttered as the hands moved to the front of his pants, dipping into the deeper pockets, too close for comfort, and sending him into a mounting panic before the man exhaled against his ear.

"Ah. Here it is."

He was released as his wallet was flipped open and perused. Shit, his school id, all his personal information was in there. He felt like throwing up.

"It's a pleasure, Takaba Akihito."

Akihito flushed at the intimate way his name rolled off the man's tongue.

"Give it back."

His defiance only seemed to amuse the man.

"In time, perhaps."

Akihito had no choice but to wait while the man took his time going through the contents of his wallet. The man chuckled.

"Your birthday is on Children's Day? How appropriate."

"Asshole." Akihito's fists clenched. He didn't care who this guy was. If he didn't watch it Akihito really was going to let him have it.

"Almost twenty is stretching it a bit, don't you think, Akihito? That's a good seven months away."

"What's it to you, anyway?" Akihito snarled. "Just give me my camera and my wallet back and let me go. I won't come back here again."

"Oh, I know you won't." Suddenly, he was back against the wall again, Asami's hand tucking the wallet back in his pocket, hot breath against his ear. "Because the next time I see you, I just might eat you up."

His breath hitched in his chest as their eyes met. He could feel the solid heat of the man's body fully against him, and his eyes widened as he felt a hard length pressing into his stomach. The man's lips lifted slightly at the corners. Then he stepped back.

He took the camera again, ignoring Akihito's cry of angry protest as he pulled out the roll of film and tucked it inside his breast pocket. "I'll keep this. But because I'm feeling generous I'll let you have the camera back."

He passed it over to his man and let him tuck it away in the bag, while the other one held Akihito back from his aborted attempt to lunge forward in an unthinking display of dismay. Akihito calmed a little, though, when their boss took the bag and settled the strap across Akihito's shoulder, smirking at Akihito's surprise and dismissing the other two men with a jerk of his head.

The gravel crunched as they walked away, leaving Akihito clutching at the bag's strap and staring up into golden eyes with a mixture of anger, relief, and curiosity. "Who are you, anyway?"

The man ignored the question, though he stepped forward, slowly backing Akihito to the wall. "Don't you know that nosy questions could get you into even more trouble, Akihito?" He smirked. "And in the future you might want to pick a…healthier place to take pictures."

Before Akihito could respond, he was trapped between the wall and the man's hard body. A choked sound of shock caught in his throat as his mouth was taken in a searing kiss. He was too stunned to even struggle for a long moment, and by the time his wild thoughts actually began to coalesce into functional thought, the man had already pulled away, leaving Akihito's lips wet and red and throbbing, and to his intense mortification, other parts as well. A deep flush spread over his face and crept down his neck as he stared at the smirking visage still only inches away.

"You…" he choked out.

"Me." The man smirked again, producing a crisp black business card that Akihito could tell was printed on expensive stock. The long manicured fingers flourished it then tucked it into Akihito's jeans. "You didn't think I'd let you get away scot-free, did you?"

He stepped away, taking out another cigarette and lighting it himself this time. His cool amusement made Akihito seethe, but he was too discomfited by what had just happened to retort. Those eyes, wicked and insolent traveled slowly over him one more time before the man turned and began to walk away.

"Come see me in seven months and I'll buy you a drink, Takaba Akihito."

Two days later, Akihito found a large orange envelope at his door. Inside were all the pictures, negatives included, he'd taken at the wharf, all except for the one of the two men and their shadows. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Shit, he really was going to have to move. A folded note written on rich, thick paper was clipped to the front of the pile.

You have a good eye, Akihito. Be careful what you capture in your viewfinder. It would be a shame not to see you reach twenty. I meant it about that drink.

He crumpled the sheet in his hand and cursed. As if he would ever deliberately set eyes on that man again.

Google and Yama-san had both provided answers of sorts, though Yama-san's information amounted mainly to yelling at Akihito to stay well away from both the man and his businesses.

Speculatively, Akihito flipped the Club Sion business card between his fingers. That arrogant man who had dared to mess with Akihito like that, as if he owned the world. Nobody touched his cameras and got away with it. Akihito made a great effort to ignore the fact that the man had messed with his body and mind far more effectively. Even if his dreams had been weird lately, Akihito was sure they would pass. It wasn't as if they meant anything.

A hot blush spread across his cheekbones, and Akihito shook his head hard. Enough of this. The business card went up on the wall next to his computer, pinned by a sharp tack. Asami Ryuichi, huh? He had messed with the wrong guy. One day, Akihito would really capture something in his viewfinder that would put that arrogant bastard right in his place.