Akihito was seriously disoriented when he woke up, that incredible tired had pulled him under, and he'd woken up without a clue what day it was, did he have any assignments due today, why hadn't his alarm gone off, and why was this ceiling not the ugly white peeling paint of his apartment in Tokyo?

It took him a few seconds before he put it all together, oh. That's right, he was in Moscow on his trip and oh. It all hit him at once, he'd fallen asleep!

Last night. The date, food, drink, the goddam snails! Then there was the way Mikhail touched him under the twilight sky, kissed the scars on his knuckles with lips that were way too soft, the confessions that reminded him way too much of high school, spilling his guts to this stranger but most of all the kiss that had him touching his lips just remembering how it felt.
He could recall how Mikhail licked his lips before he leant in to moisten that fucking kiss, that kiss that was exactly like being caught in a riptide, Mikhail was this immense current, who could drown you if he so chose, and Akihito had been so close to getting swept away in the grey tides of those Russian eyes. But it was never a good idea to try and swim against a riptide, isn't that what people always said anyway?

He still remembers clear as fucking day; the hot urge he had to roll his hips up against that firm body and he groaned because his morning wood wasn't just there because it was morning.

That's when another thing hit him; he lifted up his blankets to indeed confirm that he had no clothes on apart from his briefs, and who undressed him?!

Fuck. Just fuck. He must have been so out of it, so bone tired that Mikhail had taken him back to the hotel and he hadn't even stirred, and here Akihito was, staring at the pristine white roof as he mentally face palmed himself the next fucking morning.

Good one, Akihito! He scolded himself, what a way to wreck a good date, and holy shit Mikhail had actually called it a date back then but what did he think now that he'd done a sleeping but not beauty on the guy and had zonked out on him. Oh fuck, what if he'd snored, or dribbled, sometimes he had a tenancy to sleep mumble too, and oh no what if he still sucked his thumb in his sleep?

Rather than think about how incredibly unsettled it all made him, because Akihito couldn't actually remember the last time anything made him this flustered; he smothered himself with his pillow, and relaxed at the smell of freshly laundered linen and soft cotton caressing his face.

Maybe he could stay like this for like, six centuries or something until it all went away.

Why was it so hard? Something about Mikhail had him on edge but wanting to let loose all at the same time and it was so confusing, especially when those grey eyes looked at him, the same color as the sky above the horizon, and devoured every inch of your attention. Mikhail never even bothered to hide the way he looked at Akihito, and it made him fucking self conscious, talk about inferiority complex.

"Argh!" in a fit of annoyance at his own pathetic self, he threw the pillow across the room where it hit the wall with much less impact than he wanted, and he was just left feeling more annoyed.

A thin slice of St Petersburg sun invaded the room through a slit in the curtains, and highlighted a line of dust across his vision, the little specks sparkled as they floated in and then out of that stripe of warm luminosity.
Akihito found himself reaching out to the sliver of light as if to catch it, so he could pocket the sunshine for a time when he might need it, and he startled as it highlighted his scars and then the crimson on the back of his hand. He felt like he was staring at a silver lining for the first time in his life.
Those scars and dreadful memories that went with them, and everything led to him growing up to put a symbol of his country on the back of his hand had led him here, to Russia where the sun was trying to burst through the curtains and light up his life, just like it lit up the worthless flecks of dust and gave them a brilliance that no one thought dust would ever be capable of.

He shouldn't think too much about it, not about the implications of what that actually meant, no, because he'd only been here what, four days now? It felt like hardly any time at all, and he still had no fucking idea what he was gonna do, he remembered the possessive eyes roaming over his face and shivered, he'd like to think he had a choice, but those eyes the color of dangerous gunmetal told him something different entirely.

That brought Akihito to the moment when that older dude came up to the rooftop, and the way Mikhail had acted then, he'd been sitting on his lap and he felt the way the man's demeanor shifted as he spoke in harsh, grating Russian to the stone faced dude that set Akihito on edge.

His instincts had literally screamed at the top of their lungs at that moment, run, get out, fly away, danger, danger! And Akihito had no clue why, but he remembered the feeling well enough from years ago, from being chased, when he was dragged back to the yakuza head, he remembered the chilling way the boss spoke to his subordinates, and that was the exact feeling Akihito had at that moment.

As soon as it'd come though, it dissolved into embarrassed awkwardness as Mikhail snaked his arms around his waist and clasped his arms together in Akihito's lap. He knew Mikhail was full on, in your face and as about as subtle as a bull in a china shop, but they'd only just met and that was pretty fucking intimate for two men to be in front of someone else.

It made him a little bit happy though, happy in a way that made him wish he had his pillow back so he could smother his blush, because that had to mean Mikhail was serious right? As shy as the Russian made him, he was still curious as all hell, it'd been Misha's turn to talk and he'd just gone and fallen asleep. The things Mikhail said raced through his mind over and over, and his interest mounted higher still as he continued daydreaming while looking at the sparkles of dust in the light.

His face palm was real this time as he gave up trying to decipher it all, and the audible slap timed perfectly with the start of his phone ringing on his nightstand. He shot out of bed in fright to scrabble after it in surprise, dropped in on the carpet and half fell out of bed to retrieve it as it bounced under the bedframe. Fuck. He was an actual mess of a human being. With a huff, he looked at who was calling; and of course it'd be the Russian himself ringing, least it wasn't his father.

"Moshi moshi." He answered without even thinking, and then quickly changed because that was Japanese, "Ah, hello I mean." He sputtered to correct himself.

"Oho, so cute. Moshi moshi." The amused voice rolled the words around on his tongue in thought before continuing. "Good morning my sleeping adorable punk!" the voice sing songed, "Just making sure you're awake and not actually dead, because you seemed to be last night. You sleep like a fucking corpse."

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that." Akihito scratched his head shyly, even though Mikhail couldn't see.

"Na, don't mind it. Your camo briefs are really delightful, by the way." The voice said as if he hadn't just implied that Mikhail undressed him last night.

All Akihito could do was flail around on the bed as his mouth opened and closed in its attempt to find words. Shit. He was embarrassed, but it didn't raise alarm bells like he thought it would, he didn't get the feeling of unease like he'd been molested in his sleep or anything, in fact he was glad because he would have had a seriously shitty sleep otherwise. Sleeping with jeans on was actually the most uncomfortable thing anyone could ever do, in his mind.

"Akihito." This time it was a serious tone, low and earnest, exactly the tone he'd used last night when Mikhail said that he liked him, among other things.

It cut Akihito out of his shame quick smart, it was almost as if that voice had strings tied to his limbs and could stop him in his tracks.

"Y-yeah?"

"I'm serious. You're fucking gorgeous it's all I can think about. You have no idea how much I wanted to curl up beside you last night and just watch your sleeping face." the wistful, even regretful sigh seemed to permeate through the phone's earpiece and the sound sent goose bumps down his neck, as if Mikhail was right there, breathing on his skin. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture it. And fuck if it wasn't a nice picture he didn't know what was. And that was coming from a fucking artist.

"I'm sorry I had to leave you for so long that you fell asleep, I feel like I wrecked it." There he goes again, so straightforward with saying things like that, as if it were everyday conversation and spilling your innermost thoughts was the same as eating and breathing.

But it was relief he felt the most, because it didn't sound like Mikhail was annoyed with him at all, and he hadn't realized how much he was worried about it until now.

"Ah, it's fine, I'm sorry I fell asleep, and ah, thank you for taking me back to my room. Did you sort everything out that you had to?" Akihito hoped he had, he wanted to see Mikhail again, and again, and make him take more days off work, even if he would never ask the man to do so anyway. Infatuation could make someone incredibly selfish, and this was only the beginning.

Mikhail grumbled something, before speaking up in an appeasing tone. "No." it almost sounded as if he were pouting, "I've had to go out of town for a few days to sort it all out."

"Oh."He said without thinking again, and he knew his disappointment bled through.

"I want to see you, Akihito." Came another blunt confession, "So please don't go seducing anyone else with your art and charm in three days, because I get jealous really fucking easy."

The frown on his face was wiped clean off, Mikhail, jealous? He burst out laughing before he could help it, what did someone like that ever have to be jealous of?

"Oi! Don't laugh! I'm serious. If anyone touches you I will fucking beat them to a pulp. Kapeesh?" and he could hear Mikhail chuckle as well, even though Akihito still knew he was dead serious, the man's macho commentary just veiled the very real threat.

"Kepeesh." Akihito laughed back in agreement, not really thinking about the significance of what he'd just agreed to, but it seemed to please Mikhail though, because the satisfied hum that came through the line filled his bones with warmth. It was astonishing how the tone of the Russians voice could dissolve all his unease, and he felt like he could talk normally.

"Good, and you better prepare for the best fucking date of your life when I get back. Red roses, and wine, and a string quartet-

"Haha, no no no no!" Akihito guffawed all through his protests as Mikhail mocked him with what wasn't either of their idea of a good date, even though neither of them really dated. But if last night was anything to go by, then their tastes did indeed match up incredibly well.

"Hehe, just kidding! That would be lame-o, no, what I've got in store is miles better than any of that old fogey bullshit."

"Oh, tell me!" Akihito was beyond curious, because Mikhail seemed pretty smug with this so called date of theirs coming up.

"Nope. You'll have to wait."

"Argh!" he huffed again for the second time that morning, and Mikhail's booming laughter in response didn't help.

"Well, at least I know that means you want a second date, hm?" Mikhail was testing him now; Akihito knew the man was looking for honesty for some reason, instead of him shying away in his answer.

It was already all out in the open anyway, so what was Akihito really worrying about? Saying he wanted a second date wasn't nearly as bad as saying all the things he'd said last night, and Mikhail had this way of unraveling all his uncertainties to cast them aside, just like now.

"If you're asking, then I suppose I could make some time, I'm pretty busy you know." he drawled smoothly, all the while he tried to stop himself from giggling like some love struck teen who senpai had finally noticed.

"Why you cheeky little! Haha. You wanna play that way, huh? Please your lordship; spare this peasant a moment of your time so that he may sweep you off your feet with his humble personage." In his head; Akihito could practically see Mikhail bowing as he played along, with a gracious sweep of his hand for good measure.

"Humble, my ass!" he countered, because that word and Misha would never go together, ever.

"I will humble your ass if you don't hurry up and say yes, don't leave a man hanging. It's mean."

So fucking cute! Akihito couldn't help but think because it definitely sounded like Mikhail was whining a little bit about it, like he was actually nervous Akihito would say no. Now he knew why the Russian got a kick out of winding him up, because it was hella fun.

"I'd like a second date… a lot." there was something liberating about admitting it, maybe if he shouted it from a rooftop it'd feel even better? Because all his regret from thinking he'd fucked up last night vanished, and the dust particles in front of him continued to dance in the small streak of light.

"Yeah. Me too." It sounded like Mikhail was just as relieved as he was. "So give me three days? And then we'll pick up where we left off."

"Mm, alright then." Swinging out of bed before he even really thought about it, he started busying himself with finding art supplies and things to do, he needed to keep himself busy or three days was going to take forever. What better way to pass the time than art, where even a week could pass in the blink of an eye?

"I'm looking forward to it, just so you know."

"Me too."

"Good, that's so fucking good. I'll text you when I can, kay. And stay out of trouble, ya rebel!"

His sketchbook and pencils clattered across the floor when Akihito dropped them, "Shut up! I will."

"I can see that cute little pout on your lips from here, haha. Talk soon, okay?" Mikhail practically chirped, he sounded pretty happy.

"Okay. Later."

He listened to the steady breathing on the other line for a few moments, and realized that Misha must have been doing the same on his end, before he finally decided it was time to hang up.

Three days was sure going to take a while, and he wondered if Mikhail could see the same sunlight from wherever he was too.

Mikhail ended the call with a smile tugging at his lip, he felt renewed motivation to get his work done in Moscow so he could get back to St Petersburg as soon as he could.

That phone call had really changed his mood, this morning the only word to describe Mikhail Arbatov was livid, and it'd taken a 5-minute talk with Akihito to calm him down. Mostly because Akihito had pretty much agreed not to see anyone else, and to Mikhail that closed the deal, they were an item now even if Akihito might be a bit slow to catch up on it.
What Akihito didn't know though, was that anyone who touched him wouldn't just get beaten to a pulp, they'd be fucking erased off the face of the earth. Mikhail had no problem admitting he got jealous easy, he was a naturally possessive person; it was a goddam necessity for someone in his position after all.

He still hadn't stopped thinking about last night, the ease in which they laughed, Akihito's history, the real truth behind those scars and the resilience that came with it, his parents and everything he'd gone through to get to Russia.

Mikhail still wanted to know more, well, he wanted to know everything actually – and all night he'd agonized still over just giving his connections the word and having it all delivered to him on a bit of paper. He hadn't though, yet.

"Argh." He huffed as he remembered those hazel eyes flashing in the dusk colored night, absolutely fucking mesmerizing, the feel of the limber body in his arms had been too.

He didn't even want to think about anything further, about the kiss that Akihito had initiated, and how pliant he'd been at his touch. Fuck. Just fuck. He deserved a fucking medal for being a responsible date and taking him back to his room without doing something extremely perverted.
Multiple times this morning he'd found himself day dreaming; that pale skin was so soft, his sleeping face was so peaceful and welcoming, and it truthfully had taken every ounce of his already frayed self control not to hop into bed beside the Japanese to watch him until morning.

And he was fucking day dreaming again already!

The sun shone on a square patch of concrete through the open warehouse door where he stood, and he relished the way it changed the color of the grey concrete from something dark and shadowed into something warm and light. Just like what the sun did to that drawing of his likeness on the napkin that was still on his nightstand.

"Ah, this definitely isn't normal!" he was talking to himself, and groaned as he placed the screen of his phone against his forehead in vexation.

Around him; people looked at the Russian mob leader as if they'd never seen him before, they'd seen him laugh maliciously, mockingly and everything in between, but they'd never seen him laugh freely with mirth, or smile a smile that went all the way to his eyes. And they couldn't decide if it was terrifying or not.

"Oi, do you have a goddam eye problem?" Mikhail barked in the concrete warehouse at everyone. He was met with a chorus of nervous 'no sirs,' and the like.

"Then get back to fucking work." His growl sent everyone scuffling to do their job.

It was definitely terrifying, all the men decided as they hurried to avoid the predatory grey eyes roaming the building.

With his men put back in their place, he decided on one last quick message to someone, with a photo attached that he'd taken last night. Because he couldn't help but gloat, and he wanted to tell someone, Yuri hadn't been very happy for him, this person would be though.

It read:

To mother dearest, you'll be happy to know I secured a second date! Bet you didn't think I could do that :P here is a picture of my sleeping beauty, isn't he cute? I know you're jealous.

With a snicker and wicked glean in his eye, he pocketed his phone without waiting on a reply, his mom always took ages to message back anyway.

It wasn't until a few hours later, after he'd sunk himself into sorting out the business plan gone awry – which also worked as a good distraction from those day dreams; that his phone went off in his pocket.

From: Mumsy.

Misha, he's adorable! Please don't do anything to scare him off, I want to meet my future son in law. :P

"Che! That old bag getting ahead of herself!" he felt himself bristle, a response only a son could have to something ridiculous a parent could say.

But he had to admit; this entire thing was making him feel ridiculous things.

Already he was scheming irrational things in his head, how could he make Akihito think of only him, so much so that he'd never want to leave?