A/N:

This is completely un-beta'd. I have no beta. If someone would like to beta, for this and/or Hyacinthus Bloomed, I would love you forever!

Do I sound desperate haha? Oops.

Also, the scene at the end is probably my favorite one that I have ever written. The emotional unloading––I don't know, it just hit me where it hurts.

Chapter Three:

Two weeks ad passed since the attempted kidnapping, and Akihito was chaffing in his prison. Asami refused to let him leave the house, except for work, and if he did, a goon was always with him. It made Akihito uneasy that Asami had no idea who was after him.

"What about Al Mundi, or whatever his name was?" he postulated one night after a zombie movie marathon. Watching others die always made him contemplate his own mortality. "He made you freak out a few weeks ago."

"It wasn't him," Asami sounded so sure that Akihito reflexively balked in surprise.

He had been lying beside the crime lord in bed, his head tucked onto Asami's shoulder. "What? How can you be so sure?" he cried, shoving himself up with his good arm to stare into his lover's golden eyes.

"The Al Madanis have nothing to gain from taking you," Asami was surprisingly forthcoming. He, too, ruminated on the photographer's demise. He always told Akihito more if he thought it would help keep him safe. "Besides, Mahdi is not interested in kidnapping you."

"He'd be the first," muttered Aki as he nestled back into his preferred sleeping position.

Asami tightened his grip on his waist. "The family isn't above extortion," he chuckled darkly. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression of them. But they do not need you for that."

Aki stilled. "What do you mean?" The family would have to have some sort of hold over Asami to blackmail him.

The crime lord pulled his face up gruffly, and kissed all the thought out of him. There were some things that Akihito did not need to know, so Asami silenced him the only way he knew how: by fucking him until he passed out. He did not want Akihito to even be aware that the Al Madanis existed, especially if they were not a threat to Asami's empire. No, Mahdi Al Madani was different score to settle entirely.

Besides, Mahdi and entourage were in Sicily on vacation. The Oxford third term was over, so they had taken some time to relax. Kirishima posited that the decoy had not been for him, but for a third party. Asami scoured the underworld for any threat, but all was quiet. No one was targeting them. The enigma kept him up long after his kitten fell asleep.

***Sunshine***

Due to his injured shoulder, Akihito had to put investigative journalism on the back burner. He could barely lift his heavy cameras, let alone take clear shots. He was stuck with modeling gigs, and advertisements where he could use a tripod. Any time he went to work, he had an escort. Akihito thought he might die from the suffocation.

"Just let me run into the store, and pick up some stuff for dinner," he argued with his guard. Today's model was named Madarame, and he was a stickler for Asami's rules. Then again, only Suoh and Kirishima seemed capable of independent thought.

"Asami-sama instructed me to see you home directly after work," Madarame replied evenly. They both knew Akihito's temper tantrum was nothing compared to Asami's wrath.

"Well then, call your precious Asami-sama, and tell him that unless you stop, we will be eating prepackaged Ramen noodles again."

"Asami-sama," Madarame was polite enough to at least call Asami. Yesterday's model refused to speak to the photographer.

"Tell him I will jump out of this car if you don't stop!" Akihito threatened loudly. Asami must have heard, and known that Akihito was serious, for minutes later, they were stopping at the market just around the corner from the safe house. Asami refused to return to the condo until he knew it was secure. Akihito did not argue. If it worried the yakuza enough to have them move across Shinjuku, then the anonymous threat must have been serious.

"You coming in?" he asked Madarame as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He had to move slower than normal because of his shoulder, and it agitated him. He was used to be a quick healer, so the fact that he was recuperating slowly drove him bonkers. Life was hellish right now.

"Of course," Madarame turned off the ignition. "Give me just a moment, and I will open your door."

"I'm not an invalid!" snapped the photographer waspishly. "I can do it myself!" He kicked the door open extra hard just to show that he could. Akihito refused to be treated like he was made of glass.

"I never said you were, Takaba-san," Madarame shut the door before he could. "I open the door for Asami-sama as well."

Yeah, but Asami was a pretentious bastard who expected you to shine his shoes with your tongue. That was not Akihito's style.

The photographer took his time shopping. It was nice to be out and about, even if he did have a goon breathing down his neck. Madarame let Aki go at his own pace. Since Asami had given the all clear, he said nothing, nor did he look at his watch to check the time. Perhaps he thought Akihito's injury made him move slower, and the twenty-four year old did nothing to change that assumption. He would use his infirmaries to his advantage for once. They even got to wait for the time sale.

Outside, they loaded the bags into the trunk of the car. Akihito had bought more than he intended to, but it was all stuff they needed. Plus, fashion photography paid better than journalism.

A loud woof was the only warning he got before a heavy dog bound up to him. It jumped up onto Akihito, throwing its paws up to his shoulders as it gleefully barked. The momentum knocked him to the ground.

"Takaba-san!" Madarame was lifting him off the ground before he could process what had happened.

"Oh my God!" a girl ran up to them. "I am so sorry!" She helped pull Aki up, though Madarame did most of the heavy lifting. "He's strong, and his leash managed to slip out of my fingers! Are you okay?"

The carton of eggs he had been holding had shattered all over his chest. Yolks dribbled onto the pavement as clear goop clung to his limbs like a spider's web. Madarame's eyes were furrowed and he opened his frowning mouth to undoubtedly say something scathing, but Akihito cut him off. "Yeah, I'm fine." He managed to land on his butt. There would be a decent sized bruise, but he thankfully had spared his shoulder.

"I am so so so sorry!" she grabbed ahold of the silver pit bull as it moved to jump into the trunk to investigate the groceries. "I'll pay for your dry cleaning! And get you more eggs!"

The dog looked like it weighed more than she did. Its muscular haunches rippled as it struggled to get to the food, and she was as small as a high schooler. "It's all right," he tried to keep his voice light. He only wearing his favorite shirt. "They're just clothes."

"I'm so sorry," she kept repeating. "He smelled the bacon. He's been spoiled, so he thinks that any meat is a treat for him. Asimov sit!"

The pit bull immediately sat but he looked at Akihito with sad puppy eyes and whined.

"Asimov, what a strange name." It felt heavy and awkward on his tongue. "Can I pet him?" the photographer held his hand out hesitantly.

A wide smile split her face. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "He loves attention. Don't you, good boy?" she scratched under his chin.

Asimov's tail thumped loudly as Akihito pet his head. "I always wanted a dog," he lamented to the girl. "It never worked out, though."

"They are a handful," the girl told him. "Trust me."

He could believe it, especially if the dog weighed more than the owner, and was stronger too. "I'll bet," he laughed. Asimov woofed loudly before jumping up on Akihito again. At least he saw it coming this time, giving the chance to brace for the impact. The big paws hit his torso hard, though and he hissed in pain. The girl did not notice, but Madarame did. He looked like he was itching to step in and force Akihito back to the safe house.

"Hey!" Akihito laughed when the dog lapped up an egg yolk. Madarame stilled. It was good to hear the boy laugh again, and he supposed that nothing terrible could happen as long as he was there.

"Asimov, stop!" the girl ordered, but laughter laced her commands. Akihito could tell that she was not too upset with her pup.

The dog whined dolefully but dropped down to all fours.

"You've got him well trained," Akihito scratched behind his ears, and the puppy instantly perked up.

"Yeah," she chuckled sardonically. "I travel a lot, so always has to be on his best behavior."

"I'm Takaba Akihito by the way," he added as a second thought. He had no idea who this girl was, and by the way Asimov wagged his tail, Akihito thought he might be making a new friend. It was only polite to exchange names. "And the sourpuss is Madarame."

She firmly shook his hand. "Hisana. It's a pleasure to meet you, Akihito. You too," the photographer thought Hisana might have winked at his bodyguard but he could not be sure. She pushed her fashionably large sunglasses farther up her nose.

Madarame balked in surprise that Hisana dared address Akihito with such familiarity, and it made Hisana chuckle nervously. "Sorry," that seemed to be her favorite word. "I have spent the past several years in Europe. I haven't quite made the switch mentally to surnames yet."

"It's okay, Hisana-chan!" Akihito refused to let a prude like Madarame ruin his chance at a new friend. A cute one. Who might be single. And Aki had single friends. "You can call me Akihito."

She had a beautiful smile. "Please, Akihito, let me buy you some more eggs and clean your shirt. It's the least I can do for a new friend."

Yup, friends. He liked where this was going. "It really is no trouble," the photographer protested. "I can was them when I get home. My apartment has a killer laundry room."

"Then I insist on the eggs," Hisana linked her arm through his good one. "Asimov, up," she clicked her tongue. The well trained dog was on his feet, calmly standing by her side.

"Takaba-san!" Madarame protested.

"Can you finish loading the car, please? I'll be back in just a moment," he lead Hisana away before the goon could stop him. He was not going to let that bastard or his subordinates stop him from living his life. The voice in his mind reminded him that someone was out to get him, and that Asami was just trying to protect him.

But smiling Hisana who chatted aimlessly with him was not the culprit. He suspected that if she forsook her high heels, she would not even be 150 centimeters tall. Asimov was a picture perfect puppy dog as they walked to the eggs: he did not bark, or whine, or chase after any more bacon.

"So how long have you been back in Japan?" he asked conversationally.

Hisana grabbed a pack of raw bacon along with the eggs. She was right; that dog was spoiled. "Two days. And it's crazy. I thought it would be this huge homecoming, but all of my friends have moved away or gotten married. My own family doesn't seem to care that I'm home!" Her laugh was self deprecating. "I guess that is what I get for being gone for so long."

That sounded awful. Akihito knew he could be crushed if his parents, Takato and, Kou refused to speak to him because he went traveling. And Asami––he did not want to even think about how his lover would react. "Well, now that you are back, I am sure they will warm up to you," Akihito tried to sound hopeful. After all, there was no way her family could stay angry forever.

"I'm not here for long," the girl fished out her credit card. They had arrived at the check out when Akihito was not paying attention. "I go to Oxford. I'm only here for my dad's birthday."

"And your parents still don't want to talk to you?" he gasped. His mom and dad would have been glued to his side if he was only in the country a few weeks out of the year. Akihito could not imagine anyone being so cold to their children!

She shrugged. "They are busy, I guess."

Hisana did not sounded devastated, and the photographer felt his heart break. Luckily, he had the perfect plan to cheer her up. "I think we need to celebrate while you are here," he declared. Hisana tried to carry the bags out of the store, but he waved her away. He could still do something useful.

"Huh?"

He babbled on, his plan coming to fruition before his eyes. "A group of my friends are going out this Friday to Club Peek. You should come."

"Oh, no! I wouldn't want to intrude," Hisana vehemently shook her head. Asimov's blue eyes locked on the package of bacon. His head bobbed in sync with Hisana's vigorous 'no's.

"You are my friend, too," Akihito wrote his number on the corner of the paper bag. "So you have to come. You'll love the guys. We are dorky, but a lot of fun."

Hisana gently accepted the number. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," he grinned with such exuberance that it made her smile as well.

"Then it's a date," Hisana stored his number in her iPhone. "I'll see you Friday."

"Awesome," Madarame practically shoved Akihito into the back seat of the BMW. "Bye, Hisana!"

She waved until the car pulled out of the parking lot and Asimov was begging for bacon. Madarame glanced back in the mirror. The girl was furiously typing in her phone. A moment later, Takaba's phone buzzed. "Oh yeah, baby," he looked pleased with himself as he mumbled under his breath.

Operation: Get Kou a Girlfriend was underway. Hisana was hot, and Kou liked dogs. It was perfect. Now, he needed to convince Asami that it was a good idea for him to go to the club with the guys.

"No," the finality in Asami's voice reverberated in Akihito's bones.

"I've been good!" he protested. "I have done what you wanted without complaining." For the most part. "I haven't lost any of the tails––" because he was convinced that there more goons following him incognito. "I need a little bit of freedom!"

"We still don't know who was targeting you," the crime lord reminded him. "They could strike again at any time."

"That's part of life! Anything can happen at any moment!" Okay, so maybe not the best strategy when trying to reason with a criminal. Asami's golden eyes glinted as he conjured a thousand different scenarios where Akihito was kidnapped. It forced the photographer to back peddle and come up with a better argument. "It is just a club with some friends, Asami," and the hot girl he was hoping would do Kou.

"A club that I don't own, a club where I can't control what happens," his lover retorted.

Well duh. If he was going out, Akihito not want Asami hovering over shoulder. He needed a night to himself, where he could forget that there was a bounty on his head. Asami's good intentions were slowly stifling his soul. "Please, Asami! I need some freedom, something to remind me that there is life out there. My life."

Asami could see it in his lover's eyes. Akihito needed a taste of liberation to tide him over until the danger had passed. Not that it would ever be truly safe. His little photographer was a beacon for trouble. Even if Asami was out of the picture or Akihito stayed hidden in the penthouse until long after they both were dead, danger would find him. The world lusted after beauty and innocence; his boy was the epitome of purity and everyone wanted a taste.

"You can even send people with me! Or come yourself," pushed the photographer. Asami was cracking, Akihito could see it. He was not sure why going out was suddenly so important, but Aki knew he need to just like he needed to breathe.

Keeping his boy locked up forever was ultimately the safest thing for him, even more so than Asami abandoning him. The journalist would rot in a cage, waste away until he was nothing but a shell of his soul. It would be foolish to destroy his very essence under the guise of protection. It was not the body that had claimed Asami, but Akihito's soul. And it needed freedom like flowers needed the sun.

"My beautiful boy," Asami pulled the photographer flush against him. He stroked his back soothingly, his thumb running along his spine the way one might soothe a choleric babe. Akihito was tense, waiting for the verdict. "Fearless in the face of danger," Asami would do whatever it took to keep that fire burning, to keep the spark in Akihito alive. "It was never my intent to cage you. Of course you can go with your friends."

Akihito's shoulders sagged and the heavy fear fell away. His thin arms wrapped around Asami. As hands fisted his silk shirt, the crime lord felt his lover's tears wetting his front. "Thank you," his voice was hoarse.

Asami had to swallow the lump in his throat as the boy clung to him desperately. His own arms tightened, pulling Akihito so close to him that he thought their hearts were synchronized. As always, Asami's first instinct was smirks and sarcasm, but he repressed it. That was not what he precious Akihito needed. No, the photographer needed to be soothed, to be shown how cherished and desired he was. Asami Ryuichi had never denied Akihito anything, and he would be damned if he started now.

Akihito let Asami lift his chin up with on finger. The gold eyes that set his body and heart on fire were scintillating with words that the yakuza had never learned. Try as he might, romance was not synonymous with Asami Ryuichi, but he could reassure the photographer that their relationship was not just carnal.

Tonight, he would make love to Akihito. The dance of their bodies would do the talking.

Asami tentatively pressed his lis against Aki's. He could taste the salt of his relieved tears. Akihito moved his lips first, pressing into the kiss. Gentle tugs coaxed Asami's mouth open. Akihito became the aggressor, his tongue running figure-eights around the inside of Asami's mouth. It was glorious agony, and Asami lost himself in the sensuality of the boy.

His boy showed love better than Asami could ever hope to understand. Fingers calloused from the heavy camera and harrowing escapes slipped under the hem of his shirt to rub tantalizing circles in the hollow of his back. Asami shivered as those gentle pads trailed around his hips and down his Adonis belt. The heat that followed after his lover's touch was volcanic.

He had to be tender when undressing Akihito, something he was not used to. It had been two weeks since they had fucked, and though Asami greatly enjoyed fellatio (which his lover had become quite skilled at), there was just something about a hard rut. Akihito's shoulder was still injured, and though he was on the mend, Asami would not risk further injury.

"So beautiful," Asami rubbed his heavy hands all over the smooth planes of Akihito's chest.

"Asami––" Akihtio flushed and his hazel eyes dropped to the side.

The crime lord knew the problem: his shoulder did not ache while it was supported by the sling. The photographer was afraid that the blatant reminder of his malady would be a turn off. "Hold still," his voice dropped several decibels.

Gooseflesh rose all over Aki's skin as Asami tenderly secured the sling. He was not sued to such loving caresses, and his hair stood on end. But he understood what the crime lord was trying to say. Tonight was not about the fuck; that was just the language used to show the commitment, the bond, the love that they felt. It was proof that the want was mutual.

Asami kissed him again. One hand cupped his face, locking him in place while he other unbuckled his belt. Nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned his jeans and slid under the waistband. He grabbed the photographer's hard organ, and stroked upwards. His pace was tantalizing. He would swipe his thumb over the leaking head, and then descend into the dark depths of his pants until he reached the base. Asami would give a few quick tugs up the shaft until his lover was shaking against him, desperate for the lube of his own precum.

"Ahh…Ryu––" Akihito pulled back. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he panted, anchored only to the world by sensation.

Asami's cock was so hard he thought it was going to burst through his pants. He crushed the boy's head so tightly that Akihito whimpered. Their lips were crushed together, and Akihito was unable to move as Asami demanded, "Again."

Aki could only grunt. His good hand fumbled at Asami's belt; the other clenched and unclenched with the need to touch any part of his lover.

"My name," Asami's pulls were harsher, wringing more aching pleasure out of him. "That's all I want you to say tonight."

Akihito had never thought that Asami would allow him to. Ryuichi meant that this was for real, that it was something worth their lives. Not once did Akihito dare to think that Asami wanted more than a fuck buddy.

Until now…

"Ryu," Akihito's little pink tongue thrust into his mouth.

Asami groaned––actually groaned into his love's embrace. Akihito managed to push his Italian cut pants down his hips, freeing his prize. It had always been too big for Akihito to wrap his hand around, but he lovingly touched what he could. The rock hard cock was sticky. Asami had come when Akihito called his name.

He might have been embarrassed. He had never lost control like that, but the photographer helped him save face. Pulling away, he stepped out of his jeans and rubbed his spunk covered hand over the tip of his own overly sensitive cock. Akihito turned to the bed. He spread his legs, vulgarly displaying his twitching asshole and dripping cock, his face pressed onto the edge of the bed. He ran his semen covered hand up and down the cleft of his cheeks.

Without any hesitation, he shoved two fingers deep inside him. Akihito choked out a faint "Ryuichi!" as he moved his fingers in and out. God, it had been too long. He was tight, so fucking tight, and his own fingers were making him see stars.

Asami ran a finger down his spine, but Akihito did not stop moving his fingers. He could hear Asami's breath coming in snorts, and the photographer reveled in his show. He knew that his lover was aching just badly, that they both were slowly going crazy.

"Gah!" Asami shoved his middle finger into Akihito's ass as well. He fucked him out of sync with Aki's fingers. The phantasmagorical sensations made his toes curl. It must been what double penetration would feel like, but on a smaller scale.

He came, his back arching as his cum shot all over the floor. Asami kept finger fucking him, added a second finger. They ghosted over his prostate, never touching but teasing. Aki was hard again almost instantly.

"Ryu," he moaned feverishly.

"That's right, my beauty," Asami scissored him open wide. Akihito's fingers had long since fallen away to grip at the edge of the bed. "Sing for me."

"Please," the boy panted, spittle cling to the corner of his chapped his lips. "Ryu, I need you."

Tormenting the boy was always as good as the fuck, but Asami was so hard that he did not want to deny himself any longer. He shoved his fat dick into Akihito's irresistibly tight channel, their mixed spend easing his way in. "Aah!" he breathed through his nose. He was fully seated in the photographer.

Akihito's face rubbed against the soft comforter. "Ryu!" he clenched tight on the crime lord. The burning stretch was accompanied by the amorphous pleasure-pain. The world was spinning. "Oh God!"

The yakuza chuckled. He lifted Akihito off the bed but kept him hinged at the waist. This way, the young boy's hips absorbed his lover's thrusts, and his shoulder stayed immobile. "I am your god, Akihito. Your life. Your everything. Call for me!"

He thrust up hard into the boy. "Ryu!" Akihito screamed. His body thrashed against Asami's iron hold, as he brutally impaled him. He was relentless, pounding into Akihito with such ferocity that he was coming so hard that he forgot his name.

Asami fucked him through that orgasm, biting his neck possessively while the thick cream covered his chest. When Akihito finally came off his high, he reached behind him to fist his hand into Asami's black hair. He jerked on it, which made the crime lord hiss in pain. Aki did not care. His every nerve had come alive. He felt the cool current from the air conditioning, the finite hairs on Asami's skin that tickled his, and the glorious electricity that coursed through is blood with every thrust. All the while, Asami layered feather light kisses on his neck and shoulder. The photographer was coming undone.

This was more than sex, more than fulfilling base desires. Ryu poured his ardor into every thrust and Aki new only one way to repay such devotion.

"Ryu!" his voice was garble, so soft that he was not sure if he spoke. Asami grinned into his neck. He always smiled when Akihito called his name. "I love you."

Asami choked. He fell slightly forward, stumbling but never endangering his lover. The sudden confession surprised him, and his vision exploded as the knotted coil in his stomach burst. With a final thrust, he spilt into Akihito. His lover's ass sucked at his cock, greedily drinking every drop.

Akihito always came from the feeling of Asami releasing. The burning cum deep in his core marked him permanently as Asami's, and he privately loved the idea of belonging to the crime lord.

"I do, you know," the photographer panted heavily, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. He could feel Asami's labored breath behind him, as the man struggled with the sudden turn of events. 'I love you."

God or man, a place in Asami Ryuichi broke. He pulled out of his little lover, who's eyes were already falling shut. He was still injured and needed to rest. Asami checked the beast inside of his as he lay the boy in bed. He could repay that life-altering confession in the morning. Akihito had sealed his fate with those words. There would be no escape from this. He had given himself willingly to Asami, and they would be damned together for all eternity. He would protect the new addition to his family––his life partner––with his entire arsenal.

It was time to find the fools who targeted the invaluable man, and erase them. No one touched what Asami Ryuichi loved.

A/N:

The drama and the action is going to start picking up in the next chapter. I'll probably write some for Hyacinthus Bloomed before I write it, though.

So I have to know, has anybody figured out what is going on yet? I mean, in terms of Mahdi Al Madani? I am leaving little hints about it, but I don't know if I actually can write red herrings and suspense. So I guess I just want to know if anybody thinks they have figured it out yet!