A small gasp falls passed Akihito's lips. A particularly strong roll of Asami's hips sends sparks of pleasure dancing up Akihito's spine, causing Akihito to nearly fumble his phone. Asami dares to chuckle, all while Akihito readjusts his grip, angling the camera down his body.

Akihito observes the screen through half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his own dick resting full and heavy along his pelvis. Pre-cum oozes steadily out of his slit, forming a small puddle on his abdomen with each slide against his prostate. Next, Akihito drags his focus away from his weeping cock to the perfectly toned body nestled snugly between his spread legs. Asami's head is strategically cut out of the frame, though Akihito can still observe him clearly over the top of his phone.

Currently, they are in a fancy-schmancy hotel in Milan, Italy. For Akihito, he actually has business in the area, doing a photo shoot to promote his latest album. On the other hand, Asami showed up out of the blue, and whisked Akihito away to this five-star hotel, to ravage him completely. After their years together, Akihito has learned to interpret this to mean Asami missed him.

Even though it has only been four days.

A shudder runs through Akihito's body as Asami slows the pace with long, even strokes that nail his prostate with precision. Akihito's eyes fall close and he feels his dick twitch with a strong desire for stimulation. A desire Akihito ignores, knowing full well that the orgasm Asami can bring him to is ten times more powerful than what Akihito can achieve himself. And while Akihito wishes to chase his building climax the longer they go, he's fully aware Asami will not let that happen, as his need for control permeates the bedroom as well.

Asami has made it clear that he has to be the one to make Akihito cum, that if Akihito reaches for his own cock, it's "cheating". This usually leads to a several-hour bout of edging as punishment. The only time it's acceptable is if Asami wants to watch Akihito stroke his cock to completion, even with full knowledge that it'll leave Akihito dissatisfied; or for Asami to jerk Akihito in a rough, demanding grip.

It takes a couple of seconds before Akihito remembers he's supposed to be filming, and peels his eyes open to check his angle. Sure enough, his hand tipped slightly to the side, cutting out his left leg. He quickly fixes his phone right as Asami grasps Akihito's thighs, pushing them up toward his chest, nearly folding Akihito in half. This new position allows Asami's cock to slide deeper into Akihito, punching a surprised, breathy gasp out of him. Reflexively, Akihito frees up one hand to trail his fingers down to his abdomen, pushing down slightly along his pelvic area. Here, Akihito can practically feel the movement of Asami's cock with each deep thrust.

It never fails to amaze Akihito that his body is capable of taking Asami's cock so well. That it can reach this far inside him with only the barest amount of pain that lends to the euphoric pleasure.

The effort to stifle his moans is a task all on its own. Typically, when they film themselves having sex, they attempt to refrain from being too vocal. This means Akihito ends up biting into his forearm or the back of his hand, limiting himself to shallow pants. Asami on the other hand, has to cut out all manner of dirty talk. Not that Akihito will complain. Whenever Asami really gets into it, some of the shit he says leaves Akihito so flustered he has to hide his face under a pillow —if there is even one around, which strictly depends on their location at the time— or his arms. But of course, Asami doesn't allow him to hide for long. Either the pillow is pulled from his grasp and tossed carelessly to the floor, or his hands get pinned above his head; all while Asami ramps the dirty talk up a notch. Directly into his ear, usually.

Regardless of his efforts, a soft moan slips out, which Akihito quickly bites his bottom lip to cut short. He looks back to his phone screen as Asami thrusts home relentlessly. The new angle allows a clear view of Asami's cock as it slides effortlessly in and out of his hole, slick with lube. The noises themselves are embarrassing to hear, the wet squelch each time Asami pushes inside has heat rush to Akihito's cheeks. Yet, at the same time, his dick throbs harder, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat.

His engorged head is an angry red with how turned on he is.

Akihito has never claimed to be shallow enough to view anyone's outer appearance as "perfect", that is until he met Asami. Nor has he ever expected to be a "size-queen", yet here he is, practically salivating as he watches Asami's large cock disappear into his hole; the way his shaft glistens with lube in the low lighting, the veins that run along its length, all the way down to the dark patch of hair. If Akihito wasn't so close to an hour-long build-up of what is shaping up to be an Earth-shattering orgasm, Akihito would be eager to get his mouth all over Asami's cock.

That's an activity for next time. Right now, Akihito is content to revel in the pleasure Asami is giving him.

Asami's grip on his thighs tightens, likely leaving marks that'll linger the following days, a thought that Akihito can't be mad about. However, Tsukino, his makeup artist, will certainly be irate when she has to cover up any bruising. He has some tasteful nudes he'll be shooting tomorrow. Nothing visible will be showing, of course, but there's a high chance a good portion of thigh will be in view. Asami has placed hard stipulations that any skin on display has to be approved by him personally.

Now that Akihito thinks about it, this could also explain Asami's sudden appearance. Akihito assumed they would be sending the images directly to Asami via e-mail, for him to peruse at his leisure.

Apparently, he chose to be here in person instead.

"F-fuck," slips out in a breathy exhale as Asami grinds into him, massaging his prostate. He's so close. Just a little more and his orgasm will crash through him. He needs just a little more stimulation and he'll have his sweet release. "Please," he whispers, swiftly growing desperate. Akihito can feel his orgasm building, cresting right at the edge, but still not enough to tip him over it fully. And he needs it. Needs it like a drowning man needs air. The desire is so strong, it has tears welling up in his eyes until a few overflow.

Asami, the bastard, has the gall to smirk at him. Though the beads of sweat at his hairline and the concentration furrowing his brows belies the fact that, like Akihito, Asami is racing to his own climax. This is good. This means Asami is done teasing and they'll both get to bask in the high of a long-awaited orgasm.

In a blink, Asami's hips snap forward, setting a fast pace, forcing restrained moans out of Akihito. He feels the pressure build, inching him closer and closer until the dam bursts. Simultaneously, Akihito feels his muscles tighten up around Asami –who grunts, hips stuttering as he continues to chase his release–, as cum pumps out of his cock, splattering onto his chest and chin. Akihito's vision goes white as tremors wrack throughout his body. Soon after, Asami thrusts one last time, pushing himself in as deep as he can possibly go until Akihito feels warmth flood through him.

At some point, Akihito had lost his grip on his phone, and it slipped off his chest to lay next to him on the bed. Probably for the best, as it avoided the splash zone; though Akihito can't find it in him to care at this point.

When his vision returns, Akihito finds himself staring up at Asami's face. These are the few, rare times where Akihito gets to witness Asami disheveled. His hair is hanging loose, falling into his eyes; mouth parted in near-silent pants. The usual piercing gaze of his has softened in the post-coital bliss, and before Akihito can even ponder his next move, he reaches his arms up towards Asami, making grabby hands and all.

That earns him a soft chuckle as Asami says, "So spoiled," but obliges anyway, leaning down to meet Akihito for a slow kiss.

oOo

"Good, good! Just like that!" Dario praises in fluent Japanese, though he has a very thick accent that can make it hard to understand him.

The sound of the shutter is non-stop as Dario flits around, catching every angle of Akihito and his current pose. He's currently seated on a plush settee with a white, fluffy throw blanket to cover himself strategically. While this is supposed to be a nude shoot, Akihito is, in fact, not fully naked. Currently, the only clothing he has on is a rather small pair of nude "underwear". He's hesitant even to call them underwear with how little fabric there is. First of all, it's skin tight, yet stretchy; second, it perfectly outlines the entirety of his junk, and thirdly, the fabric barely covers his ass, leaving his cheeks hanging out. Honestly, it's more embarrassing than if he were completely unclothed, to begin with.

Logically, Akihito understands they want as little of the underwear to be seen as possible, just in case they want a little side-cheek action, but it doesn't make Akihito feel any better.

Akihito props a leg up while the other dangles off the settee. Using the blanket to drape over half of him, exposing part of his chest, and leaving the leg hanging down visible to the camera as well as the staff scattered about. Though to be fair to the rest of the crew, no one else will even dare look in his general direction. And why would they, when they have terrifying watchful eyes on them?

Asami is settled, rather comfortable, in the director's chair, while Kirishima stands awkwardly at his side. His presence alone is enough to put the fear of God in all these people. Well, everyone except Dario, who is utterly unbothered for reasons unbeknownst to Akihito. Asami's gaze has been solely focused on Akihito as he works, with the smuggest smile plastered on his face, rather like the cat that ate the canary.

Akihito chances a small peek back at his lover, who has yet to so much as glance away. So because of this, their eyes end up locking, and Asami's shit-eating grin broadens, his gaze slowly sliding down Akihito's body, stopping on the exposed skin of his thigh. Unbidden, Akihito's cheeks redden as memories from last night flood to the forefront. He wonders if Asami can still see the bruising of his fingerprints that decorate the soft flesh there. Bruising that Akihito would have gotten an earful about if Asami hadn't been hovering over Tsukino's shoulder as she worked to cover them up.

Normally, Tsukino is very chatty as she gets Akihito ready, but with Asami's stone-cold, observant eyes, she barely uttered a word. Akihito apologized profusely for Asami's behavior and even went so far as to tell him to knock it off, but sometimes it was like Akihito was talking to a brick wall when it comes to Asami.

When they left the hotel this morning, Akihito had assumed that Asami –a.k.a Suoh– was just giving him a ride to the photo shoot location; yet to Akihito's surprise, Asami had the rented car parked and followed Akihito into the building. And ever since, the entirety of the staff have been walking on eggshells. Yet at the same time, not one person has questioned Asami's presence here.

Dario gasps, rather dramatically, drawing Akihito's attention to where he's crouched, camera obscuring his face. "Yes! That look! That look is perfect, darlin'!" He begins another frenzy of snapping photos in rapid succession.

Akihito's face somehow grows hotter than it already was, pulling the blanket around himself more, suddenly self-conscious.

He makes a mental note to never allow Asami into a photoshoot again.

oOo

Akihito makes a beeline directly to Asami once Dario calls for a break to look over the current pictures. Of course, Akihito has the throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders, covering himself down to his thighs, not fully comfortable wandering about in the skimpiest underwear imaginable. Besides, Asami wouldn't be too thrilled with that either.

In the bedroom, Asami would be down for it, but when there are other people around to peep a look...

Well, it wouldn't be pretty.

Most likely, Asami would need to publicly –needlessly– stake his claim, in a way that would be utterly embarrassing on Akihito's part. Honestly, as well for anyone unfortunate enough to be within the vicinity. If that were to be the case, it'd be safer for Akihito to be cautious –not that he was planning to walk around without cover as it is–, or else he'd never be able to show his face to these people again; to the satisfaction of Asami, no doubt.

As Akihito approaches Asami, he can't help but mutter, "You've terrified the staff. They won't even look at me."

And, of course, Asami merely smirks, "Good. I wouldn't want anyone to be..." he pauses, heated gaze trailing down Akihito's body, "untoward with you." Asami reaches a hand out, palm up, clearly expecting.

Akihito rolls his eyes, placing his hand in Asami's, "The only one who would be untoward with me, is you."

With an exaggerated sigh, Asami pulls Akihito down onto his lap, "We clearly don't see the same thing."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Instead of responding, Asami simply kisses Akihito's temple, "You needn't worry, my love."

"What does that mean?!" Akihito bats away Asami's wandering hand as it begins its journey up the blanket, "You're really frustrating, you know that?" Asami has the nerve to aim a mild glare Akihito's way –not that those have ever worked on him–, though he settles by resting the offending hand over the blanket against Akihito's hip.

"It means, you tend to garner people's attention." Asami huffs, rather similar to an overgrown, petulant child.

In response, Akihito scoffs, "Me?! What about you? Everyone looks in your direction all the time!"

The stupid smirk returns, "That may be, however not many are brave enough to approach me," Asami's hand relocates to Akihito's arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing manner, "But unlike you, I am aware when people attempt to make advances toward me."

"I–," Akihito begins, affronted. Yet, he pauses as he tries to recall the last time someone hit on him and can only come up with an incident from one or two years ago. Plus, Akihito is positive that man was completely wasted, so it doesn't count. Asami, however, seems to take his lack of response as an answer.

Before either of them can continue, Dario's voice distracts them. Dario has wandered toward the back of the studio, as he talks on his phone, or more accurately, yells. Though he's speaking Italian, meaning Akihito can't eavesdrop. Unfortunately. Dario has been overly peppy the entire time, so this switch in character is rather jarring. Akihito peeks at Asami, suddenly remembering that he is proficient with languages, but the mildly amused look doesn't tell Akihito much.

"I wonder why Dario isn't afraid of you," Akihito quietly muses, not expecting any kind of answer.

Asami hums nonchalantly then says, "We've had...dealings."

"Dealings," Akihito repeats nonplussed. What kind of dealings would Asami have with Dario?

Then it hits him. Asami means from his other business. The not-so-public business. Akihito looks toward Dario again, seeing him in a new light.

Abruptly, Dario carelessly tosses his phone to a nearby attendant and spins around switching back to Japanese, "Alright! We begin again in five!"

oOo

It's been several months since that photoshoot. Akihito spent a good portion of that time performing at concerts across Japan. Akihito loves being in front of his fans, and loves the energy they provide for him with their enthusiasm; though Akihito makes sure to reciprocate ten-fold by giving them the best performance he possibly can until he's drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.

To this day, Akihito is still amazed every time he steps out on stage, to be able to visually see how many fans he has. It's one thing to see a number on the internet than it is to see the mass of actual, living people that wait outside the venue, hours or even days before a concert is scheduled to begin. To hear their voices as they scream and sing along to his songs. It feels unreal, yet at the same time, Akihito feels so alive.

Currently, Akihito is holed up at home, settled comfortably on the couch in his underwear and a hoodie; a pint-sized tub of ice cream cradled in his lap. Typically, whenever Akihito completes a tour and the high that accompanies it fades, it leaves him down in the dumps. The sudden lack of adrenaline hits him hard, leaving Akihito an empty husk for the following days. To make it even worse, Akihito and Asami's schedules are misaligned; meaning, Akihito is home alone with only the T.V for company.

Unfortunately for Akihito, Asami won't be back for another two days at least, leaving him to entertain himself. Currently, he has been binge-watching a drama series that he had refused to look into on principle but now finds himself sucked in. At the moment, the main pairing is finally confessing their love for each other in the pouring rain, after five seasons of needless miscommunication.

Despite being hooked, Akihito is sure he's pulled out way too many strands of hair in frustration.

It's as they lean in for the long-awaited kiss, that Akihito's phone begins to blow up. Dinging every couple of seconds to notify him of texts. Reluctantly, he pauses his show and pulls his phone out of the hoodie pocket. Once he gets a glance at his notifications, he can't say he's surprised to find the cause is from the group chat with his two best friends.

Kou: yooooo Aki!

Kou: did u see whats trending on twitter?

Kou: Akiiiiiiii

Kou: AKIHITO I NEED ANSWERS!

Takato: wtf?

Curious, Akihito quickly opens Twitter, not knowing what to expect.

But seeing:

AsaAki

Sex Tape

Leaked

Is not what Akihito would have thought when he logged in.

With great hesitation, Akihito dives headfirst into the trending tags. Lo and behold, the first tweet, which also happens to be the most liked, is the video Akihito filmed in Italy before his photoshoot. Akihito doesn't even need to play it to know, the still image is enough for him to recognize that it is of him and Asami.

But the question is, how would anyone else know?

They rarely film themselves, even after finding out Akihito, apparently, has a thing for having sex on camera. However, they've been cautious to keep any incriminating identifiers out of the videos for this exact reason. Typically, Akihito saves them in his Cloud Storage, but deletes the previous one, not comfortable having a horde of –essentially– his homemade porn floating about. One was enough to keep the excitement of the act alive.

He has witnessed other celebrities have their sex tapes leaked and spread throughout the media, so he thought they were being cautious in comparison. Neither of their faces was on display and nothing in the background or on their person could be traced back to them. Hell, they barely make any noise just in case that was enough for someone to recognize them by voice.

But then he remembers, just before the climax –ha!– of that particular video, Akihito did slip up in the heat of the moment.

In a panic, Akihito swaps back to his group chat.

Akihito: oh no

Takato: oh no?

Akihito: OH NO!

Kou: so it's true?!

Kou: AKIHITO!

Instead of responding, Akihito swiftly dials Asami. Though it's as the phone is ringing that Akihito pauses to wonder if Asami is even available, as he's currently on location filming for a new movie. Still, Akihito waits. Asami tends to always make himself available for Akihito, even if it's not immediate.

"Akihito," comes Asami's warm voice right before the call drops. There's a lot of background noise, and people talking. Any other time, Akihito may feel bad for interrupting, but under these circumstances, he can't be concerned.

"Asami!" Akihito shouts, but then hesitates, unsure how even to broach the subject.

"You saw the news, then." The noise around Asami quickly dissipates with the faint sound of a door closing.

Akihito gapes, "You know?!" The fact that Asami knew before Akihito is wild. Asami never checks social media. In fact, his accounts aren't even run by him, but by some poor soul in Sion. Akihito found it incredibly weird to follow Asami on all platforms, knowing full well they aren't actually Asami. But after they made their relationship public, it was basically expected of them to follow each other.

"Kirishima informed me this morning."

This statement makes Akihito pause as the horror begins to settle in, "Kirishima saw the video?" He practically whispers. Just the thought that Kirishima saw all of Akihito's bits, saw how well Asami fucks him, makes Akihito want to throw himself off the nearest bridge. Then the rest of Asami's statement settles in, "This morning?!"

Asami scoffs, "Of course he didn't. Kirishima knows better than that."

"Well, what do we do? How did it even get leaked?"

"We? We do nothing. I have people that will be taking the video down wherever it gets uploaded," Asami states in his normal, calm and collected tone. One that never fails to ooze into Akihito's being, and help soothe his nerves, "And, it appears Cloud Storage was hacked. The hacker obtained the video from there before spreading it. Sion's legal team is already looking into it."

There's a lengthy pause as Akihito processes all the information, but the increasing guilt sits heavily in his gut, "I'm sorry," he utters quietly, unsure what else he can say.

Asami replies immediately, "For what?"

"Because! We're always so careful just in case something like this were to happen, but of course, this video is the one I slip up. If I remember correctly, I'm positive I even spoke–!"

"Akihito," Asami is quick to cut the ramblings off, "First, I adore the noises you make for me, do not apologize for that. Second, while yes, you did speak, you were also quiet enough that the audio didn't pick it up clearly. Meaning, there still isn't substantial proof that it is you and I in that video."

A soft breath falls passed Akihito's lips as some of the tension slips away at Asami's words.

"Besides," Asami continues, tone significantly lighter, "the internet runs rampant on a daily basis. As long as we don't feed into it, people will forget and move on to bigger news in a couple of days."

"That's true," Akihito says, already beginning to feel better, "So, what? Do we just deny it until then?"

"No, we will not even speak on it. Sion will take care of it under the table."

"I thought Sion was your legitimate business?"

"It is," Asami says with a breathy exhale, an equivalent to a laugh, "However, not all media outlets or even record companies play everything above the board. Even they hide their cards close to their chests."

"Their illegal cards, you mean."

This time, Akihito gets a full chuckle, "Something like that," a pause, "Don't let this stress you out, it'll be over soon."

"That's a bit ominous."

Another chuckle, "I'll call you tonight, Akihito."

"Okay," Akihito replies, feeling warmth flood through him, washing him clean of his prior anxieties. He's unsure what kind of magic Asami holds, as he has yet to fail in comforting Akihito when he needs it the most.

They both remain on the line for several seconds, neither speaking, before Asami ends the call first. After, Akihito forces him to close the Twitter app. No use in developing another bout of panic so soon. Best not to even peruse what the general public and media are spewing about the video.

Asami was right, people don't have any solid proof. Plus, anything posted to Twitter is usually taken with a grain of salt, what with it being a lawless land and all.

Akihito is about to resume his drama when he receives another notification from the group chat. He hesitates, undecided if he wants to bother dodging his friends, especially since he kind of confirmed it in his panic. In the end, Akihito decides to just take a quick peek, and see what they are saying. So, he swaps back to the chat, and almost immediately regrets his decision.

Kou: ok but y is asami-sama's dick so big?

Kou: aki how are you alive?!

With a groan, Akihito turns his phone on silent, tosses it onto the coffee table, and shoves his face into a throw pillow to muffle his screams.