AN: Dorks being cute dorks. Also, short chapters give me life, just saying. Date next chappie anyway, after I update some other stuff. Have a good weekend!

Akihito woke up early the next morning to the annoying buzz of his phone vibrating across his night stand, once, twice; only a text message then. That had him curious, because no one messaged his European number. He kept in touch with his few friends online, through facebook updates and a couple of messages back and forth. His parents had this number, and he had messaged as soon as he got the phone set up to let his parents know he'd arrived and all that bullshit, out of obligation of course.

His dad replied with one word; 'O.k', and he hadn't used the phone for communication since. So with a sigh, and his head buried under a plush pillow, his arm reached out in the artificial darkness and scrambled across the night stand until he felt the slimline device cold under his fingers.

Squinting, he looked at the screen and waited for his vision to clear as his eyes adjusted to the offensive light abusing his pupils, one eye open and the other wanting to remain asleep; he deciphered the name on the screen and promptly sat bolt upright when he saw who it was.

Misha. 6:47am.
Wakey wakey, hands off snakey! Don't have too much fun without me today.
Boo work, send me a selfie of your blushing face so I can get through the day ;)

He couldn't help the idiotic grin that split across his face, and fell back into his pillows with a rush of air to bury himself under his blankets because even though it was dark, he just needed to get away from the text message on the phone somehow.

Misha. That's what Mikhail had entered himself in Akihito's phone as. What Mikhail said to call him, because calling him Mikhail was like calling someone by their last name in Japanese apparently, formal. Misha. He'd given Akihito a wink and said he didn't want to be on formal terms. The memory of that might have had Akihito smiling like a high school girl, as well as the text on his phone. Fucking suave bastard.

He was much more brave over telecommunication too, so he flicked his lamp on, lay back down, held the phone out, snapped the photo and quickly pressed send with a caption before he could chicken out. His heart fucking raced, and he pretty much instantly regretted sending it like he knew he would, but too late now.

It was early when Mikhail sent the text by normal society standards, he'd been up the entire night though, got blood on his shoes, gunpowder on his hands and flown to Moscow and back in the space of that time, he needed a pick me up. It was his own fault he had extra work to do, more meetings in a shorter space of time, but because of those things he got two days with the odd Japanese artist that was currently occupying his thoughts as he sat in the office at one of his clubs.

The morning glare coming through the windows was bright and warm, not reflecting his mood at all; when his phone bleeped on his desk. He picked up the phone, not expecting Akihito to text back this early, but expecting another shitty report from another shitty subordinate who couldn't do his job, with a problem that Mikhail would probably have to go and fucking fix himself before the day was done.

He shouldn't complain really, it was his responsibility after all. The reason he was the boss, in complete and utter control over the Russian underworld, was because he was the only one with the brains, ambition and resolve to take what he wanted, when he wanted, stomping on anything and anyone that got in his way in the process. It's why they all deferred to him, why he was always treated with formality. How fucking boring. With a half sigh, half growl; he checked his phone, and felt his mood instantly shift when he saw who it was.

"You little shit!" he laughed as he sat back in his leather chair and opened the message.

Akihito. 6:51am. 1 photo attachment.
U woke me up, no blushing selfie for u. -_-

Indeed it was no blushing selfie, it was so much more than that. Akihito lay on his side with the hand attached to the camera held level with his face on the pillows, as if he was in bed with the cheeky punk. His long arm held the camera far from his face, and he could see the scales of the dragon swirl around and around all the way up to the shoulder against the bed, even in the dim light he could make out the red scales, grey waves of the background and pink blossoms floating on his skin. In fine detail close to the camera, losing clarity the further it went up to the dragons head.

His hair was the typical mess it was, falling against the pillow and draped across his face as he lay there with a his eyes closed as if asleep, and his lip curling ever so slightly; giving the mask of sleep away. Oh my god, so fucking cute.

That wasnt even it though; what it was, was the image of his naked chest and his other tattooed arm, and that unforgettable crimson chrysanthemum on the back of his hand in the middle of of the photo, pulling his goddamn middle finger at him, scarred knuckles and all. He couldn't even fucking remember the last time someone pulled the fingers at him!

Oh, what a breath of fresh air. One that smelt like the cheap shampoo that came from Akihito's hotel, and the sweet pastries that he stuffed in his face at every chance he got. Fuck, he hoped the day went quickly. He sent his reply with a snicker, before getting up and moving onto the days work with renewed vigor.

Misha. 6:55am.
I'm sorry, I forgot princesses need their beauty sleep or they turn into cranky little brats. :P
Am heading to work now, I'll text you when I can. Have a good day. x
p.s I fully intend you give you that kiss, so watch out. haha.
Misha

"I am not a fucking princess!" Akihito near shouted at his phone, indignant with his heart still racing from sending that stupid photo, and fluttery with the thought of more kisses. Holy shit, what had come over him? He could feel his pulse in his ears, hammering away at any chances he had at falling back to sleep.

"Fuck, well I'm wide awake now." he tossed his phone in the sheets, and got up to throw his curtains open and let the light stream in, bathing in the warmth that touched his skin. Today was going to be good, he had all day free to wander, so he knew exactly where he would be going; The Hermitage, one of the largest and oldest art and culture museums in the world. He wouldn't get through the five of the six buildings open to the public in one day, not even two, you could spend weeks there, Akihito knew, so he might as well make a start.

The Hermitage in St Petersburg; Russia, away from home and away from all the shit that went with it, and then dinner with Mikhail, an impossibly good looking Russian he'd encountered on his first day here, he almost couldn't believe it.

.

Akihito was lost to any concept of time when his phone went off, he was still in the Egyptian collection in the first building; The Winter Palace it was called. Half the time he was torn between looking at the exhibits or looking at the building's interior, because it really was a fucking literal palace. Built in the 1700s and home to many imperial families and Tsars in that time, it was the thing that fairy tales were made of, he read somewhere that The Winter Palace had over one thousand rooms, and remembered thinking that that was impossible, but nope. It was on the info brochure handed out after he paid the fee and stepped into the section open to the public:

"The Winter Palace has been calculated to contain 1,786 doors, 1,945 windows, 1,500 rooms and 117 staircases."

If it weren't for the partitions, guides and signage that was thankfully in multiple languages including English and Japanese, he would have been physically lost as well.

So he checked his phone, welcoming a distraction from all the grandeur.

Misha. 11:23am.
I'm tired, send me another photo so I can refuel. I won't make it otherwise x_x

He scoffed at the message, before covering his mouth so people couldn't see what it was doing. He wasn't in the darkness of his hotel room now. So he stepped away into a corner and finally let his grin show as he typed out his reply.

Mikhail ignored the looks he received from the businessmen at the table as he pulled his phone out, the deal was going his way anyway, and they knew it, checking his phone would do nothing to change the outcome.

Akihito. 11:27am
No can do, not allowed to take them the hermitage. U'll have to struggle thru. U can do it! XD

"Fwaha!"now they were looking at him with wide eyes as he looked fondly at the screen, because no one ever saw that look on Mikhail Arbatov's face.

Oh fuck, even texting Akihito was fun.

"Mikhail, get off the phone and sign the documents." Yuri hissed in his ear.

"Right, right. My bad. Now, where were we gentlemen?"

Akihito was still in The Winter Palace building when he felt his pocket vibrate, he was in the Russian art section and everything seemed to remind him of the person who was messaging him.

Misha. 1:56pm
Still no selfie? :( just take one real quick, promise you won't get in trouble. Pleeeaase.

"Oh, fine then."

"Haha yuss!" Mikhail chuckled as he looked at his newest message. He was having way too much fun with this.

Akihito. 2:00pm 1 photo attachment
thug life.

The photo was of him pulling a serious face, a mug shot, except his eyes were fucking twinkling in all their hazel glory and there was no hiding the mischief there, because a security guard was right behind his back in the shot, looking the other way.

Well, of course the guard was looking the other way, he'd sent word through to the security sector of The Hermitage and told them that a blonde Japanese man with tattoos up his arms and flowers on his hands could take however many the fuck photos he wanted and he wasn't to be stopped.

Mikhail wanted a photo of Akihito, so he was going to get a goddamn photo even if he had to pull some strings.

He laughed mischievously to himself as he took a photo and sent his reply.

Akihito hadn't even taken two steps from where he sent the photo when his phone told him he had a reply. Mikhail sure was messaging a lot for someone who was meant to be at work. He'd have to ask what he did to allow him such freedom over his work time.

Prying into personal life would start making things meaningful, and then Akihito would find out how different they truly were. He was happy for things to remain as they stood, with no social boundaries in the way.

In his own little world of thought, tuned out to the people walking around him with their info guides and finger pointing at different pieces; he checked his mobile, and because he was in his own little world, not realising where he was, he exploded with riotous laughter and doubled over holding his stomach because FUCK.

Misha. 2:05pm. 1 photo attachment.
I didn't choose the thug life, the thug life chose me.
And the goddam photo was nearly identical to the one he'd sent, except he was pulling some ridiculous gang sign over his chest, and had his head tilted to one side like he had swag or some bull shit and oh my god, it didn't suit him one bit because he was so much classier than that and that's what made it so fucking hilarious.

He was brought out of his laughter by a tap on the shoulder, and he turned to see a security guard looking at him a little nervously. Yeah, he probably would come off as bat shit crazy, damn he was going to get kicked out of The Hermitage for fuck's sake.

"Sir, could you please be a little more quiet?" The man dressed in black security clothing asked him. As if Akihito had any say in it, or was he really that intimidating? He knew his tattoos could throw some people off, but this dude was looking at him as if Akihito had a gun pointed at his head.

"Fuck. Shit. I mean, sorry! I'll be quiet." he stammered because swearing wasn't very polite to someone who'd pretty much just let you off for causing a disturbance in an extremely quiet building where any loud noises like laughter carried down all the hallways.

The guard just gave a nod and moved off, so Akihito sent a reprimanding text back to Mikhail before doing the same and getting the hell out of that section of the building where people were looking at him as if he had two heads and was about to sprout another.

Akihito. 2:09pm
Stop it. I laughed so hard I nearly got kicked out! -_- Thug, my ass.

Mikhail's booming laughter echoed down the halls of the corporate building he was leaving after the meeting was over, drawing all eyes to him as he looked at his phone and walked, uncaring of the people who had to jump out of his way.

Akihito wouldn't get in trouble or kicked out either, he'd made sure of that also. But it was funny knowing the Japanese had no idea, he could do nearly anything he wanted in that museum right now and he'd get off scot free.

He kept laughing in the elevator, with Yuri and another of his men looking at him like he'd actually lost it this time, he was a loose unit after all.

Stepping into the waiting limo to head off to his next appointment at the shipping yards; he typed his reply.

Misha. 2:17 pm.
Oh, I'll thug your ass alright ;) be ready for dinner at 7pm. I'll pick you up, will be busy for the rest of the afternoon. Don't cause too much trouble.
Misha xx

"Thug my ass…." Akihito deadpanned, "Did he really just say that?" He shrugged off the cheesy pick up line and focused on the rest of the text with a nervous flutter in his belly; 5 hours until he'd see Mikhail again.

He had a feeling the clock was going to go really slow from here on out.