Hello everyone! I am going to do a shameless self promotion here. I have just started a livejournal account to back up some fictions but I am such a newbie in LJ that I am lost in it. Please, if you have an account, add me? (puppy eyes) My account: kadzuki23
This chapter isn't as lengthy as the previous chapters but hopefully it would be able to satisfy your cravings. I would love to write longer but I have work to do! (sobs) Gomen!
This chapter is for demianlunz who wanted a longer make out session, BcozI'mNaughty who wanted a bathroom sex and to all of you who wanted me to write a lemony chapter. I tried but honestly if it sucked, please let me know and I'll stop it.
I am sorry that Takato and Kou were annoying in chapter 11. I got a little excited writing them teasing Akihito that I didn't realize I made them annoying. I will keep their teasing to a minimum in future chapters.
And please just let me just do this: Kyaaaaa! The raws - no, not raws, the Chinese translations- are out for the special edition! Akihito playing housewife is just too yummy for words. I cannot understand Chinese but I can still feast my eyes on sensei's gorgeous men!
Thanks RiveReinStyx for the beta and for your words of encouragements!
Warnings: PWP and badly written lemons ahead.
Disclaimer: Viewfinder and its notable characters belong to the great Yamane Ayano sensei. I do not earn anything from writing this fan fiction.
"Please, Sanada. You're covering the concert, aren't you? Won't you get three extra tickets for me?" Akihito pleaded as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.
"I am going there to work, Takaba. I requested for another ticket so I can bring an assistant and the management turned it down. Setsuna's management is limiting the number of invitations for the press," the journalist replied.
Akihito brought the glass of juice to the dining table, dragged a chair and sat on it. "Damn, where can I get the tickets then? It's sold out everywhere!"
"Why do you need three tickets so badly, Takaba? I thought you're too busy for all these entertainment shit?"
Akihito gulped down his juice. "I'm doing a favor for my friends. And just because I hate taking photos of the entertainment industry, doesn't mean I cannot enjoy watching a band perform live."
Sanada laughed. "That's true; Setsuna has been doing very well lately. Three full days at Tokyo Dome and the tickets were all snapped up within three hours."
Akihito sighed. Great, how am I going to explain to Kou and Takato now? His best buddies, including himself, have been looking forward to the concert and had pleaded him to get them tickets after their Christmas dinner. Akihito could have gone to Asami since he literally own Setsuna's record label but the photographer wouldn't bring himself to ask the yakuza for the tickets; his pride wouldn't allow it.
Akihito stood up, leaving his empty glass on the table and moved to the couch. "So, there's really no other way?"
"Unless you know the upper management or someone from the record label, then I'm sorry to say that you can kiss the concert goodbye," Sanada replied.
"All right, then. Thanks, Sanada."
The photographer ended the phone call and bit his lip. Sanada's word rang into his head. "Someone from the record label huh?" Akihito lay on the couch, staring at the elegant plaster ceiling.
Well, I am literally sleeping with someone from the record label.
"Are you?"
Akihito jerked up to see a very amused Asami walking to him. Had he just said THAT aloud? Akihito covered his hand over his mouth and blushed. God, that was mortifying!
"Wh—when did you get back?" Akihito asked, trying his hardest to sound normal.
"The precise moment when you declared that you were sleeping with someone from the record label," Asami answered as he took his seat next to the boy. He loosened his tie, pulling it free. "So, are you?"
"Am I what?" Akihito asked, distracted by Asami's tie. It was the same one he bought for him a week ago.
"Sleeping with someone from the record label?"
Akihito blushed again. "It's none of your business!" he said as he made attempts to stand up.
Asami's hand sneaked out to yank his lover back onto his lap. "It is my business because if you're referring to someone other than me, I'll have to shoot the bastard for touching my property."
Akihito squirmed on Asami's lap. "Can you not be so extreme? And I am not your property!"
Asami's locked his eyes at Akihito's, showing the boy a fragment of his yakuza side. "I told you before, I do not share, especially not you. So, you better think twice before you act, Akihito. I warned you that I'll destroy anyone who touches you, man or woman."
Akihito shuddered at the intensity of Asami's eyes. He hadn't seen this side of Asami for a long time, not since he started sharing Asami's bedroom. He had forgotten how dangerous the older man looked when challenged and it was something he cared not seeing again. Akihito knew his lover is still ruthless; as even his stoic, taciturn bodyguard would sometimes display a very worried look whenever Asami's topic came into discussion.
"As – as if you wouldn't know if I were sleeping around; Toru would have informed you." Akihito muttered and looked away, unwilling to stare into Asami's golden orbs. "And who else I'd be sleeping with but you? You're the only person I know from any record label."
Asami's eyes narrowed. "So, if you know another person from the record label, you'll sleep with him?"
Insulted, the photographer glared into the yakuza's eyes "I – do – not – sleep – around!" Akihito enunciated every word.
Pleased with Akihito's answer, Asami tilted the boy's chin and kissed him. "Good boy," he whispered after breaking the kiss.
"I'm not a kid!" Akihito sulked but was silently pleased that his lover had returned to his playful mood.
Asami traced his fingers along Akihito's jaw. "So, what was that all about?"
The photographer looked utterly lost. "Huh, what?"
"The love confession you made on the couch just now," Asami murmured as he continued tracing his finger to Akihito's neck.
"Nothing!" Akihito answered, looking away again.
Asami smirked. "Really? Does it have anything to do with Setsuna's upcoming concert?"
"No!" Akihito said stubbornly.
Asami retrieved his phone and waved it at Akihito. "Ah, pity. Then I supposed you do not need these."
The younger man turned his attention to Asami's ridiculously expensive phone and gasped when he saw a photo with three tags blaring Setsuna's logo on them.
"The tickets!" he exclaimed, reaching out for the phone. The print under the logo was too small and Akihito had to pinch his fingers at the screen, enlarging it. When he could finally read it, he noticed that the tag read: Special pass: Takaba Akihito. The other two had the same print, except Kou's and Takato's names were written on it.
Asami plucked the phone from Akihito's hands and locked the screen before placing it on the seat next to him.
"You jerk!"
"Calling me names won't help you getting those tickets, Akihito."
The yakuza looked amused as he watched the younger male fumed on his lap. Knowing Akihito, he wouldn't give in so easily and it is a game Asami enjoyed playing with his lover, betting how long Akihito would take to surrender.
Akihito narrowed his eyes into slits when he noticed Asami's amused look and skewered a finger of his perfectly toned chest. "Sadist. Fine, I don't want it!"
The yakuza merely gripped Akihito's hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "Are you sure?" he whispered a moment later.
Still breathless from the kiss, Akihito kept quiet and looked away. Asami noted that his lover was biting his lower lip, a sign that he's in dilemma. It won't take long for him to give in, Asami mused.
Finally after a good ten seconds, Akihito crossed his arms and answered, "Fine, I want them."
"I told you I would get the tickets for you, for a small fee."
Akihito grimaced at Asami's response. "I remember what you said at the club. For services rendered, right?"
His lover chuckled. "Smart boy."
"So, what do you want?" Akihito retorted rudely.
"A massage."
The photographer blinked his eyes, unsure if he had heard correctly. "A massage?"
Asami placed his arms around the photographer's back and ran his fingers along Akihito's spine, teasing him. "It has been some time since I enjoyed your massage. I recalled you were good at it, not to mention your extra services were excellent as well."
Akihito blushed immediately when he suddenly remembered the time at Bali Island where he was blackmailed into massaging Asami using some expensive tomato treatment named Bloody Mary. The photographer's cheeks turned redder when he recalled how he had to climb on top of the older man, rubbing his perfectly toned chest and Asami – that bastard could never keep his hands to himself. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of his shorts and did perverted things to him.
"You pervert!" Akihito quivered at Asami's touches.
"You enjoyed it, Akihito. I remembered how you – "
"Stop it!" Akihito hissed. Allowing the yakuza to continue talking in such seductive manner would be bad as he was already losing his composure. He quickly added, "What do you want me to use to massage you?"
"Bloody Mary."
"Hah," Akihito scoffed, "Has your memory gone bad, Asami? You finished those ages ago."
"My memory is excellent." Asami smiled. "I had Kirishima order them and they are stored in the bathroom cabinet."
"You cunning yakuza," Akihito grumbled before climbing off his lover's lap. "Lie on the bed. I'll bring the tomato treatment," he ordered and disappeared into the room.
Without waiting for a second invitation, Asami swung his legs up from the coach and went to pour himself a whisky. He emptied the glass in one gulp before walking into the bedroom. Akihito had just finished lining the bed with a cloth when he entered.
"The treatment will dirty the bed sheets," the younger man explained when he noticed Asami's arched eyebrows.
Asami didn't reply to Akihito's explanations and merely undid his vest before proceeding to take off his white shirt, exposing his muscular chest. He smirked when he noticed Akihito averted his eyes from his body. He lay on his stomach and brought both his hands up where he rested his head on his crossed arms.
"I still don't see why I have to do this," Akihito grumbled as he climbed on top of Asami, straddling him. "And why on earth does Toru have to report to you every single thing?"
Asami closed his eyes, enjoying Akihito's weight on his back. "In case your memory lapse, I employed Toru."
"I know that!" Akihito cursed. He took the mixture he prepared earlier and poured it onto his lover's back. Running his fingers on Asami's sculptured back; Akihito spread the oil evenly before finally resting his hands on Asami's shoulder and began massaging him.
"That feels good, Akihito," Asami murmured seductively.
"You – you have a knot the size of a small rock on your shoulders," Akihito tried to reply normally, ignoring his awakening lust.
"Really?" was all Asami replied.
"Y – yes!" Akihito whispered and continued kneading over the knots, trying to break them. For a while, both of them enjoyed a quiet moment and Akihito took the rare opportunity to marvel at Asami's back. He hadn't been up close with the yakuza's back many times, considering he was always underneath Asami during sex and the only time he had seen his marvelous V-shape back was during shower where Akihito stole glances of him showering in the glass shower cubicle.
Not to mention that I get to touch it without having to come out with lame excuses. Akihito grinned inwardly as he ran his fingers across his shoulder blades. And damn, this man is as sexy as hell.
"Enjoying yourself, Akihito?" Asami asked suddenly, as though as he could read Akihito's mind.
"I'm not!" Akihito quickly withdrew his hands and got off the yakuza. "Turn around," Akihito ordered, fighting the burns on his cheeks.
Asami did as he was told, crossed his hands and rested the back of his head on his clasped fingers. It amused him that Akihito was still blushing like a virgin despite they have seen each other naked for several years now. "Well, aren't you supposed to massage the front too?"
"I'm getting to that," Akihito climbed on top of Asami again. He poured the oil on the yakuza's broad chest, rubbed it over evenly before starting the massage. Akihito kept his eyes lowered throughout the entire massage, trying his hardest to ignore Asami's firm chest muscles underneath his arms.
The man has an amazing chest; the best Akihito has ever seen. His muscles are well-toned, nothing too bulging and his abs; they are to die for. Akihito wished he could just lower himself, lick along those fine six packs – God, stop this! Akihito ordered himself when he realized he was fantasizing.
Shit, this is not good. Akihito thought when he felt his own boxers tightened. Asami must have felt the same way because Akihito felt him hardened when he accidentally brushed his bottom against his erection.
"Akihito."
The photographer didn't dare to look up at his lover. Any minute now, Asami would slip his fingers into his boxers just like he did in Bali and made a total mess out of him. Akihito closed his eyes, unsure if it was due to anticipation or excitement; he really couldn't distinguish which.
"Akihito," the older man called again, clearly amused with his lover's reaction.
Akihito willed himself to look at the yakuza. He blushed when he saw the corners of Asami's lips curved, teasing him. "Wh - what?" Akihito answered.
"Let's go to the bathroom," the yakuza whispered.
Akihito got off the yakuza immediately and stood by the bed. "If you think I'm going into the shower with you to have sex, you can forget about it!" Akihito crossed his hands.
The yakuza smiled again. "Who said we're going to have sex? You're going to wash the oil off my back."
Well, that was a disappointment. Akihito half expected Asami to throw him over his shoulders, pressed him against the bathroom walls and take him there.
"Of – of course!" Akihito replied haughtily before walking into the bathroom, unaware that his yakuza lover was actually smirking at him.
"What are you doing?" Akihito asked, alarmed.
"Undressing," the yakuza answered simply as he pushed down his dress pants and dumped it into the corner. "You honestly cannot expect me to shower with my pants on, can you?"
Again, Akihito was defeated. God, the things this man can do to mess up my head, Akihito thought as he turned on the shower. He adjusted the temperature and stood aside for Asami to enter the glass cubicle.
Still smirking, the yakuza entered the spacious cubicle, closing the glass door behind him. He stood with his back facing Akihito and waited for the younger man to wash him.
Let's get this over with. Akihito thought as he began to scrub the oil off Asami's back. His boxers and shirt were getting wet but there was no way in hell he was removing those; although he had to admit that he was surprised that the older man did not demand him to undress.
Again, the photographer couldn't resist running his fingers through his spectacular back. Thankful that he had a legitimate reason for doing so, Akihito took the opportunity to savor the touch. He skipped Asami's ass, afraid that he wouldn't be able to control himself if he touched it.
"Turn around," Akihito ordered when he was done marveling his back.
The yakuza did as he was told. Akihito nearly gasped aloud when he noticed the older man was already aroused. There wasn't an inch of embarrassment in the yakuza; he stood there, tall and proud of his own erection and smiled at Akihito's somewhat panicked reaction.
"Well? Aren't you going to wash the front too?"
Akihito didn't think he could stand another minute in the cubicle. His own erection is betraying him and he's losing composure with every passing second. "You can wash the front yourself," the younger man said, turning to the door.
Before he could reach for it, Asami caught hold of Akihito's hand and pulled the younger man to him. He whirled Akihito around, pushed him to the glass panel, trapping him in between. Akihito raised his hands, intending to push Asami away but the yakuza had anticipated his move. In a quick movement, Akihito had both his hands caged and raised above his head.
"What- ?" was all Akihito could say before Asami's mouth came crushing onto his. He coaxed the younger man's mouth to part before slipping his tongue into Akihito's. Akihito wanted to push the man away, just to prove that he still possessed his defiant side but he was so drowned in Asami's masterful kisses that he couldn't find the strength to even speak.
With Asami's naked body and water pouring onto them, Akihito was thoroughly wet. Not that the younger man minded; he was simply too aroused to care.
When the older man broke the kiss to push the thin wet fabric above Akihito's head, the photographer, still panting, finally managed to ask, "I thought you said we're not having sex in the bathroom?"
Asami released Akihito's hands. Tilting his, the yakuza forced the younger man to look at him. "You should have known better than to trust me in these things, Akihito."
"Pervert."
Asami ignored the comment and continued kissing him again. This time, he trailed his fingers to Akihito's nipples, pinching them lightly, causing the younger man to moan in desire as he placed his hands on Asami's arms, steadying himself from his already weakened knees.
The yakuza's lips curved, obviously satisfied with the results of his foreplay. He tore his mouth from Akihito's swollen lips, moving to the nape of his neck and bit him there, welcoming the taste of water and the sweet smell of Akihito's body shampoo. With his free hand, he slid it down to the waistband of Akihito's boxers, tugging it down and began to pump the boy's erection slowly.
"Nnn – A—sami!" Akihito whispered hoarsely, bucking his hips shamelessly at the yakuza, hoping he'd move faster.
"Enjoying yourself, Akihito?" Asami licked the spot he had bitten earlier, earning another seductive moan from his lover.
Akihito blushed. "N – no!"
The yakuza chuckled, "Still obstinate, are you?"
Using his other hand, Asami trailed his fingers along Akihito's back to his round bottom.
"A—sami!" Akihito nearly shouted when he felt the yakuza kneaded his bottom roughly.
"You little liar, you're obviously enjoying this," Asami whispered near Akihito's ear. The yakuza loved to unmask the stubborn boy; it pleasured him to see that he could have such effect on the boy.
Akihito couldn't respond; the only sounds that came out from his mouth were all moans of pleasure. He felt so hot, so needy and knew that it had nothing to do with the warm water that was beating on his back.
When Asami finally pushed a finger into Akihito's wet hole, the photographer screamed his name. Asami smiled. It has always been his name Akihito called during sex and he would make sure that it stayed that way.
Akihito, already too aroused to care, threw away his pride and urged the older man to move. "Nnnn. Asami, please!"
Asami responded by slipping another finger into Akihito, thrusting it in and out as his other hand continue to pump Akihito's erection slowly. "Akihito, if you don't say clearly, I wouldn't know what you want."
"Ah - arg, you – ah – bastard!" Akihito moaned. He bucked his hips, trying to get Asami's fingers off him so the older man can fuck him senseless but the sadistic bastard was still enjoying himself. Asami moved closer to Akihito, pinning him against the glass door, restraining the photographer's movements in the wet cubicle.
"Tell me what you want," the yakuza asked again, almost purring.
Akihito's eyes snapped open, wide and wild. He raised his hands to Asami's cheeks. Staring at him straight into his golden orbs, the photographer curved a smile and spoke in a clear voice, "I want you to fuck me senseless. Mess me up, Asami Ryuichi."
That confession itself was too much for Asami to bear. Akihito rarely used his given name, finding it too uncomfortable to call him Ryuichi and the only time he would use it was during times like this, when Akihito was too aroused and wanton to think straight.
Asami released Akihito and with one swift movement, he lifted Akihito in his arms and impaled the younger man on his own throbbing erection.
"Oh god, Asami!" Akihito screamed, circling his hands around the yakuza's neck for support.
Asami gripped Akihito's ass tightly as he moved the boy up and down slowly, inch by inch, watching Akihito's eyes go blank and dark as he thrust his lover in long, torturous strokes.
"Move, you bastard!" Akihito nearly shouted.
The yakuza chuckled. "My pleasure," he replied and proceeded to move the boy at a faster pace.
Akihito's mind, which just started to get clear, clouded again. He threw his head back, resting it against the glass cubicle as he sobbed, calling Asami's name as he begged the older man to ravish him more.
"More, Asami!"
"Hold on to me," Asami ordered hoarsely.
Without releasing Akihito, he pushed the cubicle door opened with his shoulder, ignoring the running water and went to the covered sitting toilet bowl. He sat on it and with Akihito still impaled deeply into him, he slipped his hands into the photographer's wet hair and spoke seductively, "Ride me, Akihito."
Akihito didn't need to be told twice; he willingly obliged. Placing his hands on Asami's shoulder for a better support, he rode his lover furiously. When he felt his own erection throbbing uncomfortably, Akihito released a hand from Asami's shoulder and wrapped it around his cock, sliding it up and down to bring himself to release.
Asami stopped Akihito's hands, replacing it with his own. Closing his fingers on Akihito's cock, he pumped the organ hard and fast, knowing the boy was very close to climax.
"As—Asami, I can't –" the photographer panted.
"You can, Akihito. Let go," Asami commanded. The orders were so powerful, so seductive that Akihito finally exploded, seeing stars as his own cum spurted on Asami's flat abs.
Unable to take the erotic sight of his lover in front of him, Asami gripped his hands tightly on Akihito's ass, steadying him before thrusting upwards, hitting Akihito's sweet spot. The boy moaned as new wave of sensations hit him again and it was all Asami needed to reach his own climax. Giving his lover a few hard thrusts, he let out a growl before emptying himself inside Akihito.
Neither of them spoke after the intense sex. Akihito slumped onto Asami, ignoring his own sticky liquid on the yakuza's chest. He panted heavily from the exercise and was pleased to hear Asami's heartbeat matched his rhythm.
"Hope you're satisfied, pervert."
Asami wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist. "Very, although I have to say that you were the one who's begging me to mess you up."
Akihito forced himself to sit up. "You made me, bastard."
With much difficulty, Akihito stood from Asami and limped to the cubicle. The water was still running and Akihito quickly cleaned himself, unsure if his knees could keep up with his weight. Asami joined him, helping him before doing the same for himself.
By the time both of them were cleaned, Akihito's knees had given way. Asami bundled the photographer and swung him up in his arms before carrying him out of the bathroom. Placing the boy on the king size bed, Asami threw the towel away and slipped into the duvet cover with his lover.
He fully intended to let his lover sleep but looking at his lover's delectable ass, had awakened his lust for the boy again.
"Akihito," Asami trailed his fingers along Akihito's back.
"Hnn?" the boy murmured sleepily.
"If you can still answer me, it means you still have some energy left," Asami chuckled and slipped a finger inside Akihito.
Akihito's eyes shot wide open. "YOU PERVERT!" He tried to push the yakuza away but as always, he could never win.
By the time Asami was done with Akihito, the boy was completely wasted. Sprawled on his stomach on the kind size bed, Akihito looked drained as he slept from the vigorous sex they shared moments ago. Asami pulled the duvet to Akihito's shoulder, covering his nakedness, staring at his lover for a while.
He stood up from the bed to reach for his pack of Dunhills, craving the flavor of his nicotine stick. He was about to light it when he heard his phone vibrating from outside. He tied his bathrobe before heading to the living room, grabbing his phone from the couch. He checked the caller and as usual, Kirishima's name came blinking on the screen. Taking a quick glance at the antique clock on the wall, the yakuza noticed it was already past one in the morning – A call at this hour from his secretary would mean that he had something very important.
"Asami," he answered.
"Asami sama, we have located the guard who disclosed the warehouse location," Kirishima spoke in his usual calm voice.
Asami sat on the couch and lit his cigarette. "His identity?"
"Thirty-one year old Nishimura Yuya; he was employed a year ago."
"Where did you find him?" Asami asked nonchalantly as he took another drag of his cigarette.
" Fukouka, hiding in his friend's house. We found out his identity immediately after the incident but Nishimura fled the capital before we could bring him in for questioning. Suoh managed to track his whereabouts after roughing up his friends," his secretary replied nervously when he noticed his boss's changed of tone.
"Where is he now?"
"At warehouse number two. We haven't started the interrogations. What are your orders, Asami sama?"
"Tie him up on a chair. Get my car ready, I'll be there." Asami extinguished the cigarette and stood up from his seat.
"Do you need me to call Toru to be at the penthouse?" Kirishima asked uncertainly.
Asami pondered for a while. Akihito is unlikely to get up and judging from his current state, he'd most likely slept through morning. The security at his building has yet to be breached but he wasn't about to take any chances. Since he owned the building, Asami had gotten Toru an apartment one floor below his, adjacent to Suoh's and Kirishima's for convenient purposes. "Send him up."
"Very well, Asami sama."
Asami disconnected the call and walked into the bedroom again. He gazed at his wasted lover as he dressed, smiling lightly at the events that happened moments ago. After donning his tailor made vest, he reached for his favorite gun in his secret compartment and secured it in his shoulder holster. Taking one last look at Akihito, he curved a smile before stepping out of the bedroom, picking up the tie he left at the couch in the process.
The front door rapped softly, indicating Kirishima's arrival at the penthouse. His subordinates were indeed well trained; they seemed to have guessed Akihito was sleeping and refrained from pressing the door bell, in case they wake the young man up.
Asami signaled Krishima to enter, knowing that his secretary had the key to his penthouse. The door knob clicked softly and opened, revealing his perfectly dressed secretary and Toru in his usual black and white attire.
"Toru, Akihito is asleep. He is unlikely to get up but in case he does, you know what to do."
Toru bowed. "Yes, Asami sama."
"Which guard have you chosen to be the driver?" Asami directed the question at Toru as Kirishima helped his boss to put on his black trench coat.
"Asami sama, if I may, I would like to have Ando."
Asami raised an eyebrow. "Ando, chief security of The Fixer?"
"Yes, he is sharp and quick; his loyalty is commendable. He will fit the role perfectly. And – "
Asami put on his gloves calmly. "And?"
"He has a wife and is unlikely to harbor any interests for Takaba sama," Toru said without flinching.
The yakuza nodded, obviously pleased with the answer. "I'll leave you then," Asami replied and turned to walk out of the penthouse, leaving Toru bowing behind him.
The guards stood behind chief Suoh, unmoving. They watched in fear as their colleague of a year, Nishimura Yuya was stripped from waist top and bound to the wooden chair in the warehouse. His mouth was gagged, his eyes silently imploring at his friends, begging them silently to release him but none dared to step forward.
"Suoh san, what will happen to Nishimura?" one of the bodyguards dared himself to ask.
"Have you taken part in this before?" Suoh asked, staring at the bound man.
"No, this is my first time," the young guard answered.
Suoh managed to curve a smile. "Try not to throw up later."
The guard gulped and stepped back in line, wondering what his boss would do to Nishimura. He had heard things about the boss but had yet to experience it firsthand. He really hoped the late night snack he had an hour ago would stay in his stomach.
The air in the warehouse was thick and tense; no one spoke as they waited for the yakuza to arrive. Finally, after endless moment, the car ferrying the crime lord stopped in front of the warehouse. The occupants in the room stiffened when they heard their boss's expensive shoes approaching the warehouse. Suoh walked to the end and opened the steel door, revealing the crime lord and his dependable secretary behind him.
The guards at the warehouse stood straight and bowed at the sight of their boss. Asami ignored the men and calmly walked to the bound man on chair.
"Nishimura Yuya," Asami spoke in a cool voice.
Nishimura merely shook his head, tears threatening to spill.
"Already crying?" Asami raised an eyebrow. "You disappoint me, Nishimura. I was expecting you to at least struggle a little."
Suoh released the gag on Nishimura on Asami's orders. "Please, I'm sorry, Asami sama! I won't do it again, please!" the man sobbed.
Ignoring the pleas, Asami signaled Kirishima to remove his trench coat. He raised his hands for his secretary to undo his cufflinks before removing the tie that Akihito had given as a gift prior to Christmas. He walked behind the bound man, giving the spineless guard a good look. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of Nishimura's hair and yanked it behind roughly.
"I am not interested in your pitiful cries," Asami spoke calmly. "What I am interested is the reason you ratted on me."
Asami raised his palm and a knife was produced immediately on his hands. He pressed the knife on Nishimura's neck, carving a thin line of blood. "Speak."
Nishimura was already sobbing. "I – I am in huge debts, I didn't know what to do! Please spare me Asami sama!"
"So, you thought it wouldn't hurt to disclose the location, have the warehouse raided and collect your fair share from the rat in the narcotics department?"
A bead of cold sweat formed on Nishimura's temple. He cried, "They said they'll kill me if I don't repay my loans, please I had no choice!"
Asami loosened his grip and stabbed the knife on Nishimura's back, earning a loud scream from the guard. "There's always a choice; you chose to betray me."
The yakuza walked to the front, gave Suoh the signal to take over. The bulky guard stepped forward and shot his fists at Nishimura's nose, breaking it in one powerful punch. The chair toppled backwards and a few guards quickly stepped forward to push the chair upright again.
After a few deadly shots, Nishimura was barely conscious. Blood dripping from his broken nose and swollen mouth, the former guard could only groan in pain. Suoh stepped aside, allowing his boss to survey his work.
"Suoh," Asami ordered and the guard immediately moved next to the crime lord. He nodded silently at Asami's orders before moving to the back of the warehouse.
"Please, I'm sorry." Nishimura managed to whisper.
"When I was in Hong Kong, I managed to witness a very interesting tradition," Asami interrupted the man. "Hong Kong triads have a fascinating way of expelling their members; do you want to know what the ceremony was like?"
Nishimura shook his head as tears poured along his blood stained face.
Suoh stepped forward, passing a large bundle of lit incense to Asami. The guards in the warehouse began to fidget, not liking what their boss was about to do with the incense. They have not heard about the tradition and the only usage they know of the burning sticks was for praying purposes.
"Aren't you honored? You'll be able to witness it first hand," Asami spoke easily.
"No – god please no," Nishimura shouted, struggling against his seat.
Asami walked closer to the sobbing guard and thrust the lit sticks on his chest. The guard screamed from the heat of the incense; he tried to move, tried to dodge the heat but he couldn't. He could only scream in the deserted warehouse.
After the last light was extinguished, Asami threw the remaining incense on the floor and ordered one of the guards to release him. The young guard scrambled to get his duties done, all the while trembling lightly as he cut Nishimura free from his bindings.
The injured guard fell on the floor face down upon being released, unconscious. At Asami's orders, Suoh threw a bucket of cold water onto the guard, waking him up from his comfort.
Asami crouched next to the guard and grabbed his hair. "Nishimura, if you think this is over, you're mistaken."
"Asami – sama, please spare me."
"Kirishima, do you know the punishment for displeasing the oyabun in the yakuza clan?" Asami glanced backwards at his secretary.
Kirishima pushed his spectacles up and gave Asami a small smirk. "Yes, Asami sama, the yubitsume."
Nishimura shook his head weakly. "No, please," he sobbed as he closed his fingers into a fist.
"Hold him," Asami ordered. Suoh immediately uncurled his fingers before placing them wide on the concrete floor.
Asami pulled the knife from Nishimura's back and checked for its sharpness. "Consider this your honor, to have me doing it for you," the yakuza spoke, hacking the knife onto Nishimura's pinkie. A crushing sound of bone was heard and a loud scream echoed around the warehouse.
Asami stood up, looking at the severed finger and curved a smile. He passed the knife to Kirishima, took out his gun from the holster. Pointing it at Nishimura, he spoke, "You should have thought carefully before you ratted on me." And the yakuza fired.
Akihito stirred when he felt the bed dipped from the weight. He felt Asami's large hands brushing his hair and caught a fresh scent of his body shampoo lingering on his fingers. Immediately, he knew Asami had showered again. He wanted to ask his lover why on earth would he shower so many times during winter but he was just too tired to even speak.
"Akihito," the older man whispered gently.
Forcefully, Akihito opened an eye and noticed his lover, already naked, was gazing at him.
"Where did you go?" Akihito mumbled tiredly before drifting off again.
Asami gathered his lover in his arms and whispered, "Business – as usual"
Thank you for reading!
To everyone who has taken time to read, follow, favorite and review chapter 11: THANK YOU!
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A/N: The punishment method was adapted from a Hong Kong triad movie, Young and Dangerous, 1996.
Translations:
Oyabun: head of the yakuza family.
Yubitsume: A ritual in the yakuza where a member's finger is cut off as a form of apology.