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Seduction In The Key Of 'A'

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Asami thrust into the smaller body beneath him, the woman’s loud moaning kindling a spark behind his eyes that was sure to become one spectacular headache in the hours to come. The simple act of rutting was no more than a necessary chore to relieve the burning ache in his body, and it’d been that way now for some months—perhaps even a year, at this point. Who the hell is this bitch anyway? He couldn’t recall her name in spite of his incredible memory for details; in less than a minute, it would become quite important to him, and certainly not for the same reasons it was important to her.

Right. Kiyomi. That’s her name. Will I have to force her to take the pill? Or did she have the—

Wet vaginal walls contracted around his cock, pulling him from his internal dialogue as he followed her into orgasm. In the past, he’d usually lie next to her on the couch and have a post-sex cigarette. Tonight, however, he was restless, and (if he were being honest with himself) a bit anxious to have her out of his condo. At least she didn’t come on the bed, he thought with a twisted half-smile. His bedroom was his private sanctuary, and no trick was ever allowed in there. If the person had a problem fucking on the couch, or the floor, or against the wall, he or she would be told to leave. Not that he’d had to do that since rising to power in Tokyo: many women and almost an equal number of men were more than willing to tolerate his idiosyncrasies just to have a one-night stand.

Asami stood, not bothering to cover himself, and lit the cigarette, his back to the girl as he looked out over the city. He expelled smoke as he remembered giving her the birth control shot himself two months prior. Good. No complications for the night. He was pulled out of his musings once again as he realized she’d been chattering away happily while he was assessing the pregnancy risk.

“…in the bed,” Kiyomi said with a sultry smile. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “And don’t you think I should be getting a key soon?”

Asami stared at her long enough to know he caused her discomfort, then casually walked to her. He took a large drag off the cigarette, leaned over the girl, caging her in against the back of the couch with both arms, and blew the smoke in her face. She started to get nervous with his atypical display.

“I don’t know who you think I am,” he said softly, “nor do I care. But there is something I need to clear up.”

He caressed over her collarbone with a finger, and she grew wary at the gentle touch. This man was anything but gentle. She knew that much. His hand rested lightly around her neck, the unspoken threat quite apparent as he pressed her back into the couch.

“I am not your boyfriend,” he sneered. “I’m not your lover, not your friend, and as of tonight, I’m also not your employer.”

Kiyomi’s mouth fell open though no sound came out as he withdrew and turned his back on her again.

“You may collect your things from Sion tonight. My assistant will escort you right now.”

She was horrified, but still couldn’t speak. With as much dignity as she could scrape together, she snatched her clothes up and left. Asami dialed Kirishima and gave him directions on what to do with his former employee, knowing the man caught the wench before she left the floor.

That being dealt with, Asami finished smoking, lost in thought as he sat in the darkness alone. The damned women were becoming tedious. Just a scant four years ago, not a one of his female employees would have ever demanded a key to his condo. They were getting too comfortable with him, and he couldn’t have that if he were to remain at the top of the elite heap. He lit another cigarette and paced in front of the large windows, at ease in his skin, pondering his conundrum.

Most of the cigarette was gone when a wicked smile marred his face.

 


 

Oh fuck! Not again!

It was the third time in little over half a year this scene was playing out, much to Akihito’s disappointment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a warning bell was going off. And he would’ve heeded it if he weren’t frozen in utter shock. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? Was he really that naïve? Really? As if in a crappy romantic movie, he could see his boss’ face pressing closer, thin lips descending on his own. The other times this happened to him, he was able to slip away from his would-be molesters with a minimum of fuss. This time, though, he knew he wouldn’t get out without resorting to violence.

Akihito took the man’s lapels and started to pull him closer. His boss’ expression was hopeful, until he brought his knee up and nailed him in the balls. Before his boss hit the floor, Akihito was at the back door of the ground-level office, yanking desperately at the knob. Fuckfuckfuck! Locked! He leapt over the groaning man and went for the main door leading back into the club. It slammed open, the boss’ huge bodyguard filling the doorframe, and they exchanged a look of surprise. Akihito recovered first and shut and locked the door. It would only hold the brute for moments, so he needed to think fast.

“Y-You’ll n-never get out,” the man on the floor groaned.

“Shut the hell up!” he snapped back, giving a swift kick to the man’s stomach. His former employer curled further around himself as Akihito dismissed him from his mind.

There was a small washroom off to the side of the office, and Akihito bolted into it, locking it behind him. In a flash, he was on the western-style toilet, reaching up and flipping the small rectangular window open as the brute broke down the office door. His heart began beating in his throat, and the crashing noise spurred him through the window. He struggled when his hips got caught in the frame, but managed to wiggle them through just as a beefy hand wrapped around his ankle. He swallowed the budding scream and kicked backward, connecting with the guard’s face.

He grabbed the ledge, swung around and landed on his feet. As soon as his shoes hit the pavement, he was in motion, and he didn’t stop until he returned to his apartment.

 


 

“You’re home awfully early for a Saturday night,” Kou commented from the kitchen as Akihito shut the door and leaned his back against it.

The look on the other man’s face gave him pause. Kou approached and brushed the hair out of Akihito’s face. “Aki, are you okay?”

“Kou, what’s wrong with me?” he asked, tears he’d been holding in slid down his cheeks.

Kou wrapped his arms around his best friend. “There is nothing wrong with you. What happened tonight? Tell me.”

“He told me he was going to rape me,” he said miserably, leaning against Kou’s shoulder. “Am I dressing inappropriately? O-Or leading these guys on? What am I doing wrong?”

Kou tightened his arms around him, narrowing his eyes. “You are very attractive, Akihito, and your voice is incredible. They lust after you because you’re in a class so far above any of them.”

They stood for several minutes more until Akihito pulled away slightly, taking a deep, cleansing breath. He gave a watery smile to Kou.

“Thank you.”

Kou ruffled his hair and went back to the kitchen. “Get a shower. It’ll make you feel better.” He looked over his shoulder at Aki. “And don’t take forever. Takato’s coming over tonight and we’re getting drunk.”

After Akihito was in the shower, Kou opened the door to Takato who was carrying a case of cheap beer.

“So what’s going on?” he asked, setting the beer on the kitchen counter. Kou gestured for him to be quiet.

“Aki nearly got raped again by his boss.”

Takato scowled. “Again? When are those assholes going to leave him the hell alone?”

“Probably when he gets a boyfriend big enough to beat the fuck out of them,” Kou said, half-joking.

Takato poured himself a cup of sake and leaned forward, conspiratorially. “Actually, I might have a solution.”

 


 

Akihito pulled on a pair of cargo shorts, and went into the kitchen to grab a beer. The conversation stopped immediately when he stepped out of his room. He ignored it until he had the can in hand, and he turned, folding his free arm over his chest.

“What?” he asked the two sets of eyes staring at him and drank.

“You need to get laid,” Takato said.

Akihito’s eyes widened, and he drank the rest of his first beer, cheeks flaming red. He quickly opened a second can, taking another swift swig before muttering: “I’m going to need to be drunk to talk about that.”

Kou and Takato chuckled at the cute, embarrassed face Akihito made as he sat on the floor with his back propped against the couch.

“Are you going to apply to another bar?” Takato asked after pouring a round of sake for them.

“I’m starting to think I should just move on to something else,” he said, sighing. “I’m not sure it’s worth it if I’m constantly in danger of being molested on the job. I can’t sing very well under those circumstances.”

“Then you need to apply to somewhere higher class than these little dives,” Kou added. “Whatever you do, you’re not allowed to stop singing.”

“Says who?”

“Says both of us,” he replied. “You’re too good, and you love it too much to stop.”

Akihito took the shot of sake and poured himself another. “Alright. Do you have any bright ideas? Because I’m all out.”

“Club Sion,” Takato said immediately.

Akihito laughed. “Everyone knows Sion caters to straight people and only hires women to sing. Even you know that.”

Neither Kou nor Takato were laughing, and he began to get suspicious.

“What am I missing?” he asked looking back and forth between them. Takato grabbed Kou’s laptop and typed in Sion’s web address.

“Two days ago, three singers were ‘let go’,” he said and turned the screen to Akihito. “And those three openings are going to be filled by male singers.”

Akihito read the announcement on the site. And he had to re-read it to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. A slow smile settled on his lips.

 


 

Chapter Text

 

_____________________

 

You've got your ball,
You've got your chain
Tied to me tight, tie me up again.
Who's got their claws
In you my friend?
Into your heart I'll beat again

Sweet like candy to my soul
Sweet you rock,
And sweet you roll
Lost for you, I'm so lost for you

Oh, and you come crash into me
And I come into you
And I come into you
In a boy's dream
In a boy's dream

Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows so
I'm bare-boned and crazy... for you.

Oh, and you come crash into me
Baby, and I come into you
In a boy's dream
In a boy's dream

And if I've gone overboard
Then I'm begging you
To forgive me
In my haste
When I'm holding you so girl,
Close to me

Oh and you come crash into me, yeah
Baby, and I come into you
Hike up your skirt a little more
And show your world to me
Hike up your skirt a little more
And show your world to me
In a boy's dream
In a boy's dream

Oh, I watch you there
Through the window
And I stare at you
You wear nothing, but you
Wear it so well
Tied up and twisted,
The way I'd like to be
For you, for me, come crash into me, baby
Come crash into me, yeah

Crash into me...
Crash into me...
Crash into me...

You know, I'm the king of the castle,
And you're the dirty rascal, crash into me.
Please crash into me, baby...

Oh, no no no...
Yes,
I see the wave come and crash into me.
I See the wave come and crash into me.
Crash into me.

("Crash" by The Dave Matthews Band)

_____________________

 

Akihito reached for the door leading into Club Sion, his hand shaking a little. He’d never been in Sion before, in part due to lack of money, and in part due to apprehension about not fitting in—it was difficult for him to find anything in common with the straight population, in general. At this point, though, fitting in with said population didn’t matter. He needed a job. That this job was something he’d been fantasizing about since he graduated five years prior, well… that was just a bonus. His hand almost connected with the door when it opened, and a well dressed man stood for a moment, lighting a cigarette. Akihito found he couldn’t look away from him, even though he knew he was being rude by staring.

The man was tall, taller than any of the men Akihito dated in the past, and it was evident he was built by the way he moved beneath his clothes. As they passed each other, their eyes met, and Akihito’s breath caught in his throat, his heart skipped a beat. Having worked in the more unsavory live music bars in Tokyo, he’d come into contact with a handful of truly dangerous men in that time; they were immediately recognizable—unlike the little pricks who seemed to be into molesting my person, he thought sourly. This man, however, outweighed all of them simply with his existence. 

Akihito was compelled to tear his gaze away. The bodyguard following was a mountain of a man, and Akihito’s mouth dropped open as he looked way up. The giant smirked down at him and continued on to open the door of the BMW for his employer. Akihito turned and quickly slipped into the shelter of Sion. In the main room, a dozen men, give or take, lounged around the stage, some with drinks in their hands. A couple of them were warming up their voices, and Akihito was glad he took the chance to warm up on the way over. Some were speaking softly to one another, and as Akihito approached, he caught the name Asami. He picked up a glass of water from one of the bartenders and sat listening to the hushed conversation until another man in an expensive suit and black-rimmed glasses made an appearance.

“My name is Kirishima,” the new-comer said and immediately launched into explanations. “I am here to hire three of you to sing for nights and weekends at Club Sion. At the end of the audition, three will be offered the job and two will be held as alternates, in case there is a concern with employment that cannot be resolved.”

Kirishima sat in one of the chairs amid the young men. “Shall we begin?”

Akihito sat patiently as one by one, the others were given sheet music (a test to make sure they could read music, one of the requirements for the position) and got on stage to sing the piece each of them were given. Akihito was the second to last, and the piece Kirishima handed him was “Memory” from the Broadway musical Cats. He glanced over the notes, a small crease of concentration etched into his brow.

Kirishima leaned back in the chair as the young man—a Takaba Akihito by name—prepared himself. So far, there were a couple of very good potentials, but no one he would care to personally introduce to the boss. The young man on stage was looking expectantly at him, and he nodded, giving him the green light to begin.

Akihito drew in a deep breath, deep into his diaphragm. He opened his mouth, his throat, and he sang:

 

“Midnight, not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone…”

 

The sound that came from Akihito flowed out beyond the confines of the main room and touched everyone within hearing. The two secretaries from the office above the club came down the stairs and were leaning forward against the banister, listening. As he started on the second verse, the remaining female singers preparing for the evening in the dressing rooms appeared in front of the stage to listen as well. Kirishima glanced around at the people gathering, watching the young man sing and saw each with their total attention on him. He breathed a sigh of relief.

This is what Kirishima was searching for.

 


 

They were taking a break in between the auditions and the announcement of who would be chosen, and Akihito sipped on another glass of water while he waited patiently for Kirishima to reappear. But when he did, it wasn’t to make the announcement. He got very nervous when the tall (were all employees at Sion tall?) man scanned the crowd, and his gaze fell on him. Kirishima saw Takaba sitting off to the side by himself, the others avoiding the kid. However, Kirishima decided to not feel too badly for him; Takaba Akihito had so much more going for him than all of the others combined.

He gestured to Akihito. “Come with me, young man.”

He could see the kid’s face go pale and knew he was thinking the worst. He led Takaba into his own private office on the first floor, close to the back entrance of Sion. Kirishima gestured for him to go first into the door, and when they were both seated, he put a list of names with the songs they sang in front of Akihito.

“Your background is quite impressive, Takaba-san,” he began, folding his hands on the desk. “Majoring in music, minoring in photography, and graduating with honors.” Kirishima gave him a gentle smile. “And it’s not often I get the pleasure of hearing such a clear, strong voice.”

“Th-Thank you, Kirishima-san,” Akihito replied, more than a little surprised.

“I would like your opinion,” he said and indicated the paper in front of Takaba. “Who would you hire?”

He watched the young man read each of the names, pausing to think about the performance of each. He only needed clarification on who two of the potentials were, and after that, he set the paper down.

“I would hire Watanabe Akira. His range is pretty incredible. And um… Suzuki Hikaru, and…” he trailed off, staring at the paper. “And Ito Ren.”

“And for the two alternates?” Kirishima inquired.

Akihito glanced at the paper once more. “Nakamura Shin and Hayashi Aoi.”

Kirishima rejoiced internally. He had Suzuki on the alternate list and Hayashi didn’t make the cut. The young man knew what he was doing.

“Thank you, Takaba-san. You have helped me a great deal.”


The young men stood when the older man entered the room again, followed by Akihito, and the conversation ceased.

“When I say your name, please take a step forward,” Kirishima said. “Watanabe Akira. Ito Ren. And Takaba Akihito.”

Akihito stared at Kirishima in confusion. That wasn’t the third name he mentioned.

“On behalf of Club Sion,” he continued, “I am pleased to offer the three of you the positions. Suzuki Hikaru and Nakamura Shin, please remain behind. The rest of you, thank you for auditioning.”

Akihito’s eyes grew wide as he realized what happened, and his stomach did a flip. The others left, and one by one, the three who were hired were called back into the office to speak of employment concerns. Akira returned rather quickly to the lounge and sent Ren back to speak with Kirishima. A bit later, Ren returned only to tell Suzuki that Kirishima wished to speak with him, and with that, Ren Ito left Sion. Too soon, it was Akihito’s turn.

“Thank you, Kirishima-san,” Takaba said and bowed as soon as he was in the room.

“You are welcome,” he replied. “You were the first one on my list, in case you were wondering.”

The young man’s face grew red at the compliment—a modest boy too. Kirishima couldn’t have created a more ideal employee.

“Do you have any concerns about working for Sion?”

Akihito fidgeted a bit. “The only real concern I have is about safety before and after a performance. I’ve had… difficulties with it in the past.”

Kirishima nodded once. “A reasonable concern. Because of how popular Club Sion is, all performers are assigned a personal guard.”

The younger man visibly relaxed, giving him a sweet smile. “That sounds wonderful. I can wait for orientation to ask the rest of my questions.”

“If you have any other concerns, all you need to do is call me, Takaba-san,” Kirishima stated.

He handed Akihito a business card.

“Welcome aboard.”


 

One week later, Akihito paced in his dressing room. Less than ten minutes before his big debut, and he was nervous as hell. Kirishima mentioned in passing that the owner of Sion would be in attendance tonight (a rarity, apparently) to assess the quality of the new performers, and he’d intentionally arranged for Akihito to be the last of the male singers to perform. “Saving the best for last” he called it.

Sato, the guard he was assigned to, poked his head in the door. “Takaba-san, you need to start walking to the stage.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

He wasn’t so nervous about the performance itself. He’d been performing for years in front of others. No, this case of nerves was about the owner being in the audience. Over the last seven days, he heard so many rumors about the man and had built him up in his mind to be a strict and surly asshole. In reality, he had no idea what to expect or what the man even looked like.

Akihito approached the stage and waited for the emcee to announce him, shoving the hypothetical man out of his mind and quickly going over the lyrics one final time.


 

Most of Sion got by on minimal lighting, giving the club a darkly elegant ambiance, and the V.I.P. section was even less lit, as if created so the aristocratic predator could hunt from the shadows. Two such predators sat smoking together with a few of Sion’s female singers sitting with them, fawning over the two men and scheming for favor. Preferably from the owner of Club Sion himself, Asami Ryuuichi, who was ignoring their every attempt; Asami was more interested in assessing Kirishima’s success than in the unsolicited female attention.

All in all, Asami was pleased. Two of the three men Kirishima hired had already performed, and both of them were really good, especially the Watanabe kid. Then again, Kirishima had yet to fail him after many years of dedicated service. They were waiting on the third man to appear on stage, assured by Kirishima he was definitely worth the wait.

“Asami-san,” Ishida said, “it’s interesting that you’ve hired male singers.”

“Oh?” he asked, not looking at his associate.

Asami knew by hiring male singers, other club owners of a similar caliber would be curious about his motivation—he was a trendsetter among them, after all. The tentative, roundabout question was not wholly unexpected.

“Sion has always catered to the discerning gentleman,” Ishida said, the two of them sharing a smirk over his phrasing. “Are you catering to women now?”

“Women have always been welcome at Sion, Ishida-san but it will continue to cater exclusively to men.” His smirk deepened when Ishida caught on.

Ishida laughed. “Ah Asami-san, you are one twisted son-of-a-bitch.”

He lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply.

“Indeed.”

The emcee chose to appear on stage in that moment, and introduced the last male singer of the evening: Takaba Akihito. Asami didn’t move but all in the VIP section with him felt the subtle shift of attention, and for a heartbeat, Ishida saw the real Asami: this man—this upstart—was anything but. It was much like capturing a non-venomous snake… only to discover one was holding the tail of a Bengal tiger.

And for the first time since meeting the larger man, Ishida was intimidated.

Asami watched the young man take the stage. Dressed in dark green pants and a dark green shirt with a large floral pattern buttoned down enough to show skin, the boy looked incredible. Asami felt his cock stirring to life and knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had a taste of this beauty. The young man sat on a stool with mic and stand in hand. By his body language, Asami could tell Akihito was quite familiar with performing on stage, and that pleased him further. One small, boyish smile to the crowd and everyone in the room was in the palm of the young man’s hand.

The beginning of the song “Crash” permeated the room. And Akihito sang.

“You’ve got your ball, you’ve got your chain, tied to me tight, tie me up again.”

His eyes widened imperceptibly at the purity and lust dueling in his newest employee’s voice. His cock hardened further as Akihito’s deep, fathomless eyes seemed to pierce through him: “Who’s got their claws in you, my friend? Into your heart, I’ll beat again.”

The sultry expression on the young man’s face was blatantly sexual. So much so, Asami could feel himself buried in the yielding body, wrenching cries of pleasure and pain from that talented throat.

Akihito swayed gently, closing his eyes.“Sweet like candy to my soul, sweet you rock, and sweet you roll, lost for you, I'm so lost for you.”

Asami watched, fascinated, as this young man controlled the audience with his voice and barely-there gestures—it was a gift the likes of which Sion hadn’t seen, not to this degree. And Sion employed only the best. Kirishima outdid himself. His loyal assistant would surely need a raise after finding (and recognizing) this gem for what he was.

A fine sheen of sweat glittered on the skin of Akihito’s chest peeking through the open shirt. Asami didn’t tend toward impulsivity, but the half-exposed collarbone was driving him to distraction. If this had been practice and not an actual performance, he would clear the room and take the boy against the stage.

“Tied up and twisted, the way I'd like to be, for you, for me, come crash into me, baby, come crash into me, yeah…”

Asami growled softly, and one of the girls next to him started. Something happened, then, that hadn’t happened since he was a teenager: he grew impatient. He stood, appearing calm on the outside, and nodding to Ishida, slipped out of the main room.

As he passed Kirishima, he said: “Bring Takaba to my office when he’s finished.”


 

Chapter Text

_____________________

Don't ever let me take you for granted
You've got your finger on the pulse of my soul
Let me place a kiss in the small of your back
Love and protect you from the evils of this world

Baby don't ever leave me stranded
Whoever said that the streets were paved with gold
Well I'm afraid that they're all sadly mistaken
There's nothing here 'til we have someone to hold

I love you with all the joy of living
'Til the lights go down on New York City
It's a special love affair
There's magic in the air

You gotta shake me down
Bring me round to my senses
'Til I'm lost and found
And you surround me with your senses

If love wasn't here would we reinvent it?
Oh take me down to the very root of my soul
Oh baby say it as if you really mean it
And feel the passion
Work its way up through your skin

I love you with all the joy of living
'Til the lights go down on New York City
It's a special love affair
And there's magic in the air

You gotta shake me down
Bring me round to my senses
'Til I'm lost and found
And you surround me with your senses

Let me take you by the hand
And we can go and find a brave new world
Star light, star bright
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you to a safe place in this world

You gotta shake me down
Bring me round to my senses
Until I'm lost and found
And you surround me with your senses

("You Surround Me" by Erasure)

_____________________

“Asami-sama would like to meet you,” Kirishima said to Akihito as soon as he was off stage.

“Right now?” he asked, going in the direction of the dressing rooms.

“When you are put together would be fine, but yes. Tonight.”

Akihito took a deep breath. “Give me a minute, please, and I’ll be ready.”

He slipped into the room and shut the door, putting his back to it. What in the world could the owner of Sion want to see him for? He was fairly sure he didn’t bomb the number. He toweled off the sweat from being under the hot lights and ran his hand through his hair as he gave a final look at himself in the mirror. Akihito took less than five minutes, thinking it wouldn’t be a good thing to keep The Ass waiting.

“Okay, Kirishima-san,” he said, exiting. “I’m ready.”

The assistant smiled. “You look like you’re about to face a firing squad.”

“I’m a little nervous,” he said, squeaking a bit.

“You’ll be fine, Takaba-san.”

Kirishima led him up a set of stairs, past a reception area and unlocked a door on the left. It opened into another hall, and all the way to the end of it was another door. Kirishima knocked, opening it only when he heard a muffled ‘enter’ from the other side. Akihito couldn’t see around the other man, so he waited patiently to be announced, and then Kirishima stepped out of the way, gently guiding him into the office. The door shut, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he got his first glimpse of the owner of Club Sion.

“You!” he exclaimed softly upon recognition.

“Me,” Asami confirmed, pleasantly surprised to see his hunch was correct: one of his new employees was the delightful boy who gave him such a look of awe not too long ago.

“Oh… um, p-please excuse me.” Akihito stammered. He cleared his throat and bowed, looking down at the floor. “I am Takaba Akihito. It is an honor to meet you.”

“You may call me Asami,” he said, lighting up. “Sit down, Takaba Akihito.”

Akihito shivered at the possessive note in that deep voice, his body responding as if the man had touched him physically. He sank down onto the leather couch before his legs could give out under the controlling aura in the room. Never had he reacted so intensely to another man, and that fact had him more than a little wary. He didn’t tend to fall for nice guys.

“Your profile is quite impressive,” Asami said, flipping through what Akihito assumed was Sion’s file on him. He stopped on a specific page, skimming it, and then leaned back in the chair, golden eyes pinning him to the couch. “It’s almost too impressive for you to have not signed on with a recording label.”

The unspoken question burned in the air between the two of them, and Akihito squirmed a bit under the gaze, feeling very much as if his introductory meeting was going to be an interrogation. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I—I um… I didn’t want to sign, to be honest.” There. That wasn’t a lie.

“Hm, really,” Asami said, looking over the page again. “It seems like a waste of time and money to graduate with a degree you don’t use.”

“It’s what my father wanted me to go into. Especially after—“ Akihito shut his mouth abruptly as soon as he realized what he almost said. He fervently hoped Asami would ignore his slip up.

“Especially after what, Akihito?” Asami asked softly, leaning forward.

Damn. No such luck. “After I graduated from high school.”

Asami could tell the boy was lying, even if he didn’t have his whole history laid out in black and white in the file he had. He would eventually need to teach the young man that he accepted nothing less than brutal honesty from his lovers. But he could allow Takaba Akihito these moments of retreat, knowing the boy would be his soon.

Akihito scowled. “I apologize if this is rude, but I don’t see the relevance of this conversation. Why does my decision matter so much to you? Isn’t it enough that you won’t lose me to a label?”

“Call it professional curiosity,” Asami replied, smirking.

Moments were passed in a pregnant silence.

“Especially after what, Akihito?”

They waited.

And stared.

Finally, Akihito sighed, looking away. This man was relentless.

“I assaulted my high school choir coach.”

“Hm,” Asami grunted and stood.

Akihito clutched at the arm of the couch. He felt his heart flutter in… anticipation? Anxiety, maybe? But all his boss did was pour himself a drink.

“Whiskey?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the young man who seemed perilously close to bolting… or crying.

“Please.”

He poured another and handed the tumbler to Akihito; he then leaned against his desk, saying: “Continue.”

“There’s not much to it, other than what I’ve told you,” Akihito said after taking a drink. “I got cornered after a performance by my coach and, “ he rolled his eyes, “dozens of adoring fans.”

He slammed the rest of the drink. “That was the day I discovered I panic when I’m trapped.”

“That’s a good thing to be aware of,” Asami observed.

Akihito snorted. “I suppose I should be thankful I only hit the coach, though I don’t remember doing it. I kind of blacked out that whole evening. He had the cops called and tried to press charges.”

“Tried?”

“Yeah,” he said with a faint smile. “My father is a criminal photographer, so he personally knows most of the cops on the force in town. He explained what happened to the chief and all charges were dropped.”

Akihito paused, thinking. “You want to know the irony of it all? I wound up with a full-ride scholarship from a college scout who happened to hear about the concert and attended that night.”

“So you’re claustrophobic?” Asami asked, filling both of their glasses again.

Akihito shrugged a shoulder. “Sort of. I can usually manage just fine myself unless it’s a small space with people crowding me.”

Asami rolled the rich amber alcohol around his mouth and swallowed, enjoying the burn. The young man began to fidget beneath the intense golden eyes. “Is that the only reason you haven’t signed?”

He watched Akihito drain his second glass, eyes glazing over somewhat, and chuckled to himself. One thing was certain, the kid couldn’t hold his liquor.

“I… um, no, it’s not the only reason,” Akihito said. He looked down at the tumbler in his hands, and then back to Asami. “Truth is I’m happy doing what I do. I don’t need money or fame to feel fulfilled. Singing is the means and the end, if that makes sense.”

His statement intrigued Asami. All of the female singers seemed to want something out of their position at Sion, whether record deals or prestige or simply chance in his bed (figuratively speaking, of course). Even though it was a well-known fact he took his pleasure with men and women, the young man in front of him was showing very little (if any) interest in him as a lover.

And that only made him more determined to have the boy begging for release on hands and knees.

“It makes perfect sense,” the older man said and set his tumbler down on his desk.

Before Akihito could protest, Asami put his own glass on the table next to the couch and captured his lips in a mind-blowing kiss. It was so sudden, he automatically stood when Asami grasped his elbows and lifted, their lips not breaking contact. The other kisses Akihito experienced did not prepare him for the intensity and sheer hunger of this one. His world collapsed into the single moment, into the now. Unconsciously, he grasped Asami’s coat, needing to be grounded by something tangible. A large hand cradled his head, and he groaned into Asami’s mouth, wanting so very much for the man to touch him already…

“No!” he exclaimed, pulling away. “I can’t do this.”

Akihito put his hands flat on Asami’s chest, fully intending to shove him away and make a break for it. But the man had such a broad and firm chest…

Akihito leaned up and kissed him, though Asami quickly took control again. He felt a hand grope his ass, gasping as fingers slid over his covered ass crack. The hand pulled him closer, so close their bodies met, and Akihito’s eyes widened when the older man’s cock pressed against his stomach. The element of surprise was on Akihito’s side when he pushed the man and ran for the door.

He turned the knob and managed to open the door a bit. However, Asami was just as fast. Asami shut it, taking care to not rip the knob from the younger man’s hand. The soft click was loud in the office, and Akihito was convinced it heralded his doom. His crazy luck getting away from would-be molesters seemed to have run out. He wouldn’t be able to outwit this man and his lackeys—they were in a totally different class than those he’d dealt with before.

Asami buried his nose against the smooth skin of Akihito’s neck and inhaled the unique scent that was the boy. Akihito shuddered as Asami’s warm breath brushed over his skin, and his body relaxed into the thick arm around his waist.

Akihito’s voice was shaky as he whispered: “I can’t do this. Please…”

His head tilted to the side with a sigh, giving access to Asami’s scorching tongue as it traced over the collarbone admired earlier that evening. The tang of clean sweat and innocence was a heady combination—a combination that Asami’s internal war escalated over: to take the boy now, or prolong the sweet agony both of them were wrapped in.

“Mmm,” he rumbled against the thin column of Akihito’s neck, “and why can’t you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“N-No,” Akihito replied, almost unable to speak he was trembling so hard. “No b-boyfriend for m-months. S-sav-ving m-myself-f.”

Ah, he was a virgin. Akihito’s responses made a great deal more sense. Asami grew even harder at the confession, if that were possible.

“Do you know for whom you were waiting?” he asked, lips ghosting over the silky skin of Akihito’s cheek. Eyes that were nearly all pupil finally looked up at him as the young man shook his head.

“Me.”

Akihito yelped as Asami’s mouth suckled with bruising strength at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He tried to pull away but the arms held him firmly locked to the man behind him. When the suckling eased and turned into gentle kisses over his neck and face, Akihito’s knees were so weak, he almost couldn’t stand. He stood panting and half-leaning on Asami. The place where Asami marked him throbbed in time with his cock, not an unpleasant experience, but certainly new.

“You are mine,” Asami whispered against Akihito’s temple and placed a soft kiss there. “Can you stand?”

Akihito took his full weight and nodded when his legs were only slightly wobbly. Disappointment sliced through him when Asami released him to stand on his own, and he tucked the knowledge away to examine later.

“I will have Kirishima take you home tonight,” Asami said, moving back to his desk. “He will be waiting at the reception area you passed on the way up here.”

Akihito nodded, still not trusting his voice, and straightened his shirt, ran trembling hands through his hair. He slipped out the door without another word. As he shut it, Sato approached, his expression changing from neutral to concern.

“Are you alright, Takaba-san?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “I just… I need to go home.”

They were halfway down the hall when the door at the other end opened, letting in two brutish-looking men. Akihito pressed back against the wall, eyes on the floor, trying to give the two as much room as he could spare. It was to no avail. He shot a glance at Sato to find the guard as intimidated as himself. His heart started beating quickly.

“What have we here?’ the first said, grabbing Akihito’s chin and forcing his head up. Akihito swallowed a gasp as intricate tattooing peeked out from under the man’s suit jacket sleeve.

“He’s mine,” Asami’s cold voice said. Akihito started, and the man holding his chin released him and stepped back immediately.

“I apologize, Asami-sama,” the brute muttered.

“Akihito, go to Kirishima,” Asami commanded as the two visitors were ushered into Asami’s office.

Akihito was relieved when Kirishima was waiting where Asami said he would be, and the two left with Sato looking on.


 

After walking several miles away from Club Sion, Sato lit a cigarette and took out a cheap, pre-paid phone. With practiced ease, he dialed a number he knew from memory, and waited.

The person on the other end picked up on the second ring.

“It’s me,” Sato said.

“Did you see anything?”

“No, but I’m fairly sure he’s fucking Takaba now.”

“Dammit! Were you able to get into Asami’s office?”

Sato snorted. “Are you kidding? I told you I tried the other day, and that I won’t try again. I almost got caught.”

“I need that file, Sato. And I’m counting on you to get it.”

“I know, I know,” Sato said, taking a drag off the cigarette. “But I might have something even better than the whole file—something you can use right now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s about Takaba…”


 

Chapter Text


My heart goes Boum Boum Boum
Every time I think of you
Inside it’s Boum Boum Boum
Lost control, what shall I do?

Cos I wanna be your lover
‘Til the end of our lives
I could never miss again
These loving eyes
Oh Boum Boum Boum

My heart goes Boum Boum Boum
Every time I think of you
I feel that Boum Boum Boum
No control of what I’ll do

Simplicity, complexity, oh what a tragedy
Reality, insanity, strange normality
Incredible, untouchable, Oh but just visual
And I want you, Just you,
Oh Boum Boum Boum

My heart goes Boum Boum Boum
When my mind is touching you
I’m going Boum Boum Boum
Only light inside my gloom

Cos I wanna be your lover
‘Til the end of our lives
I could never miss again
These loving eyes
Oh Boum Boum Boum

 

(“Boum Boum” by Enigma)


 Akihito was preoccupied. Saturday morning and he was in the process of preparing to sing again that evening. But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the song blaring in the earphones of his iPod, he couldn’t get his mind to focus on it. He only had one earphone in so he could hear if he was on key, however it didn’t help to remind him of his performance in less than twelve hours. Akihito became aware of his fingertips gently, unconsciously, caressing his lips, his thoughts a million miles from being on stage. He shivered, remembering Asami’s harsh assault and was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions and thoughts.

Akihito had boyfriends in the past. Not many, but enough to know the type of man he was attracted to: tall, on the controlling side, tendency to be larger. He figured out early on he was a bottom. Or, rather, he would be once he started having intercourse. The curiosity of sharing such an intimate experience was quickly outweighing whatever reasons he had for saving himself. And his new boss knew all the right buttons to push, piquing his interest. As it stood, it was a miracle he escaped Asami’s office unscathed… and not just because Asami was a domineering ass, either.

“Damned pheromones,” he muttered to himself.

Unexpectedly, Kou spoke: “What?”

“Ahh!” Akihito screamed, his body jerking so abruptly he fell off the couch and onto the floor with a thud.

“Aki! Are you okay?” Kou asked.

He sighed from the floor. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Really?” he replied and slipped around to sit on the couch. “You were mumbling to yourself.”

“Why are you home?” Akihito asked, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Obviously, to help you with whatever you’ve gotten yourself into this time,” Kou said, leaning over Aki and smiling. He glared at Kou, and Kou’s eyes grew wide, his face serious.

Oh my god. I was kidding, but something really did happen, didn’t it?”

Akihito stood up and went into the kitchen to get a beer. He ran a hand through his hair, popped the can open and drank.

“He kissed me, Kou.”

Akihito glanced at him when his friend didn’t answer, and noticed Kou’s eyes were locked onto his neck. Shit! He shifted uncomfortably, not bothering to hide the large hickey since Kou had already seen it.

“That looks like more than kissing to me, Aki.”

He groaned, letting his head hit the counter. “I know.”

“Hey,” Kou said, guiding him to the couch. He sat next to Akihito and put an arm around him. “I’m not judging you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m judging me enough for the both of us.”

“Was this something you wanted?”

Akihito sighed. “Not at first, but now… Kou, he’s all I’m thinking about. I’m singing again tonight, and I can’t focus.”

“Who is he?”

“My boss.”

“Oh Aki,” he whispered. “Want Takato and I to kick his ass for you?”

The image of Kou and Takato looming over Asami (who was duct-taped to a chair) with lead pipes in hand had him laughing.

Kou managed to look hurt. “I’m serious.”

“I’m sorry. I know you are,” he said, laughter dying. “It’s just that this time… I’m not sure it’s all my boss’ fault, you know?”

“Could he be The One?” Kou asked.

Akihito snorted. “Bastard certainly thinks he is.” He finished his beer. “Truthfully, I’m attracted to him. And I might be willing to” he cleared his throat “explore certain things with him. I just don’t know, y’know?”

“Aki, it’s the first time you’ve ever seriously considered sleeping with someone. Maybe you should go for it.”

“Maybe,” he said. “I’ll see how tonight goes.”

A cold chill passed through Akihito’s body, and he wondered, in retrospect, if those words had helped to seal his fate.


 

Akihito adjusted his dark brown leather blazer nervously as he listened backstage to the lady singer finish her song. He still didn’t have all of the singers’ names down, but he could recognize each by his or her voice. The lady on stage was Sings Okay, and she was very kind to Akihito. Since he heard her for the first time four or five days ago, he’d been trying to find a polite way to give her the business card of a friend of his who did voice work. With a little help, she could be a very powerful singer. She solidly hit the final note, and he could hear the crowd go wild. During the cheering, she slipped behind the wine-colored velvet curtain and smiled when she saw him.

“That was great,” Akihito whispered as she hugged him.

“Thank you,” she whispered back, obviously excited. “I didn’t expect to make that last note so well.”

She left him to wait by himself for the emcee’s announcement of his number, and when his name was called, he hopped up the stairs onto the stage. He stepped out under the hot stage lights and couldn’t see details very far beyond the first couple of tables. However, in spite of that, he could see the outlines of countless people in the audience tonight—possibly half again as many as saw him the night before. The rush of performing kicked in, his body relaxing and a sweet smile appearing on his face. As the music began, he unconsciously sought out the tall, sleek figure of his boss, but didn’t see him on the first pass. He looked again, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved the man wasn’t in the VIP section again.

And cue to sing…

“My heart goes boum boum boum, every time I think of you, inside it’s boum boum boum, lost control, what shall I do?”

His body moved fluidly on stage, the cut of the blazer and the close-fitting shirt accentuated how slender and flexible he was. His eyes shut slowly.

Cos I wanna be your lover, ‘til the end of our lives, I could never miss again, these loving eyes, oh boum boum boum.”

A full storey above the stage, Asami watched the young man all but make love to the microphone, lips close to brushing over the bulbous tip. Coupled with the expression on the boy’s face, Asami was uncomfortably hard standing behind the large tinted, bulletproof window overlooking the stage and floor of Club Sion.

He watched Akihito’s lithe, effeminate form strut and sway in time with the music. He watched until he thought he would burst from the anticipation of having this particular singer warm his bed.

“My heart goes boum boum boum, when my mind is touching you, I’m going boum boum boum, only light inside my gloom.”

Asami emptied the snifter of brandy and watched until Akihito left the stage.

He dialed Suoh.


 

Akihito was surprised at how many people were in the audience. It made him wary of being crowded, so he quickly retreated to his dressing room and locked the door before anyone could catch him in the back hallways. He undressed, hanging up the blazer and folding his shirt and pants to be laundered, tucking them into his backpack. He got dressed in his street clothes—much easier to run in, he thought wryly—and slung the pack over his shoulders. He wasn’t going to make a habit out of bowing out early, but the atmosphere tonight, for some arcane reason or other, had him very skittish. There was something in the air that just didn’t feel right, and if held at gunpoint, he still wouldn’t be able to explain himself.

So he would get home a little earlier than expected, lock the door and vegetate. Akihito left his dressing room. He found the stage manager, bowed out of the tail end of work, and rushed toward the back entrance. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and ran into someone coming down the hall. The two collided, and Akihito nearly lost his breath. With a hastily mumbled apology, the other person hurried on, leaving Akihito wondering what happened. Checking to make sure his wallet was still on him and his backpack intact, he left Sion through the back leading into the alley behind the club.

The security guards there knew him and waved him through, admonishing him to be careful walking alone. He palmed the pepper spray in his jacket pocket; a bit of security he kept it on him, just in case, for when he walked home at night. Block after block passed without incident, though he was on alert the whole time. He would be very glad to get home, get a shower and lie down in front of the TV until he fell asleep.

He was close to his apartment when he noticed a black car following him slowly. His heart started beating quickly, and he had to suppress the urge to run, tipping off whoever was following him that he was aware of their presence. Instead, he went a little faster down the sidewalk and cut into a small alley between two buildings, only large enough for two people to walk through abreast. And then he ran. He knew the neighborhood, so he waited for a good fifteen minutes until he thought the coast was clear, and came at his apartment from the other side.

His back was turned only for a moment, and he was grabbed from behind, a hand over his mouth. He was tossed unceremoniously into the back seat of the black luxury car and the doors shut. He immediately tried one door, and then the other when the first didn’t open. Akihito cursed his luck: the guy who snatched him engaged the child safety locks.

“Hey!” he yelled at the driver as the privacy window was rolled up. “Hey! Dammit!”

So he would have to wait until his kidnapper showed his or her face. And the waiting was the hardest part for Akihito. For good measure, he kicked the seat in front of him. The car sliced through traffic, and wherever they were going, it didn’t take as long as Akihito thought it might. The driver pulled up and parked curbside at a well-known ritzy condominium complex. The door next to the curb opened and was filled with Asami’s giant bodyguard. Akihito recognized him immediately.

“Keep your hands off of me!” Akihito snapped, pressing himself against the other door.

“Asami-sama wants to speak with you,” the talking mountain said, reaching in to grab him.

“He wants to talk here? There’s no reason we can’t talk at Sion!” he replied, kicking out at the beefy hand.

After a number of failed attempts at retrieving the young man, Suoh received a call and he shut the door to answer it. Akihito’s heart was beating frantically in his chest, his whole being went on high alert, knowing Asami’s henchman wouldn’t give up quite so easily. It felt like he waited an eternity, though intellectually he knew it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes or so, when the same man opened the opposite door, and his hand came snaking back in to try to grab him.

Akihito reacted and bit the hand coming for him, clamping down hard on flesh, until he tasted blood. There was pain etched out over the man’s face but he didn’t make a sound as he forced the young man’s mouth open with his other hand. Before Akihito could retaliate, he was snagged around his waist and yanked backward through the door behind him (when had it opened?) into the thick arms of his boss.

“Put me down!” he growled, struggling. His defiance was met with a cool chuckle.

“Suoh, go get your hand checked out,” Asami said.

“Yes, Asami-sama,” he replied, bowing deeply.

Akihito’s breath hitched when, over Asami’s shoulder, he saw the complex’s door swung shut behind them, and he struggled harder, his gut telling him to not get out of sight of the doors. He stopped struggling as the elevator doors closed, not having a clue what to do now. With only one set of doors to get through, he may have been able to escape. Getting through a set of doors with guards and an elevator? He was screwed. Literally, his mind supplied helpfully.

“If you can behave yourself, I’ll set you down,” Asami said.

If Akihito were being honest with himself (which, he wasn’t), he would have acknowledged it was a huge temptation to remain in the man’s arms. From the man’s casual strength to his clean male scent—no cologne, faint hint of aftershave—it served to seduce him just a little more, and render his defenses against Asami just a little less effective.

“I’ll behave,” he grumbled into the Asami-scented suit.

“Good boy,” Asami said, putting him down on his feet.

“I’m not a boy,” he snapped, walking back until he was in the corner. Asami shot him a smirk.

The doors opened, Asami stepped out, and with an obvious reluctance, Akihito followed. Down the hall, one of the guards opened the door to the condo as Asami approached. Akihito froze in the middle of the hallway; he couldn’t get his legs to work, either to walk to his boss or run away. The reality of what would happen if he crossed that threshold was suddenly all too real. Even when Asami walked back to him, he couldn’t move as the older man came closer.

“I thought you said you would behave,” he said, amusement evident as he wrapped an arm around Akihito.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Akihito said in a strangled whisper.

“I think you are perfectly capable of having a drink with me and talking. Don’t you think so?”

A drink? And conversation? He wasn’t convinced that conversation over cocktails was all his boss wanted from him. Every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to run and never look back. In spite of his misgivings, he didn’t resist as Asami ushered him forward into the condo, pulse spiking when the door shut with a resounding click.


 

Chapter Text

_____________________

 

The red light of the sun
Slowly descending
The sky is all I see
It's never ending

We could fly
You and I
On a cloud
Kissing

Kissing

The wind plays with the leaves
The weather turns colder
But as long as we believe
Love doesn't get older

We could fly
You and I
On a cloud
Kissing

Kissing

On a journey of the heart
There's so much to see
And when the sky is dark
You'll be right here
Right here with me

Right here with me
Kissing

 

(“Kissing” by Bliss)

 

 _____________________

 

“So, do you bring all of your employees here?” Akihito asked, putting a couch between them after slipping off his shoes. 

Asami poured two glasses of red wine before removing his suit jacket. His piercing gaze rested on Akihito, gauging the young man’s reaction to the shoulder holsters he wore under his coat. Akihito went pale at the sight of the guns, wondering exactly what the hell he’d gotten himself into as Asami approached and handed him the glass over the couch. He could tell the older man was amused at his vigilance.

“Not all,” Asami said after Akihito took the glass from him. “Just those employees I want to become better acquainted with.”

He scowled and threw back half the glass.

Asami smirked as he sat. “I see I need to teach you how to savor each swallow.”

Akihito nearly spat out the mouthful of wine at the insinuation. However, he thought The Ass might get too much enjoyment out of seeing him flustered, so he choked the mouthful down and coughed after the burning liquid coated his throat.

“Akihito, sit,” Asami said.

“Um, I-I’m really… I’ve—“ he stammered, knowing if Asami touched him, he would be lost.

“Sit.” It was clearly a command.

“O-Okay,” he said and sat, careful to leave room between them.

“Why Sion?” Asami asked, loosening his tie.

Akihito snorted. “Club Sion is the singers’ Mecca in Tokyo, and probably in all of Japan, as well. I know singers who would give their left…” he cleared his throat and blushed “leg for one night.”

Asami didn’t smile, but Akihito could see the man was obviously amused at his crude assertion.

“I built Sion to be the pinnacle of live music bars in Japan, and I’m sure if it’s not at the top, it’s damned close,” Asami commented, then looked directly at him, gold eyes unwavering. “But that didn’t answer my question. What were your reasons for auditioning?”

Akihito stared at his hands until he gathered his thoughts.

“There’s the not-so-subtle ‘I needed a job’ reason,” he said and took the last sip of his wine. “But I’ve wanted to work at Sion since I was in high school. I thought if I worked in such a high-class joint, I’d make enough so my father would quit criminal photography.”

Akihito leaned forward and set the glass down, saying: “I worry about him.”

Asami watched the young man stand and walk to the wall of windows, thin arms wrapped around his willowy torso. The expression on his face was heartbreaking. Asami waited for him to continue and was about to prompt him when he spoke again.

“I’m more aware than I’m usually given credit for, Asami-san.”

Of that, Asami had no doubt. He set his own glass down and stood. Akihito retreated physically, though he barely moved.

“Someday my father is going to cross the wrong people and wind up dead somewhere.”

“Why tell me this?” Asami asked, noting (with no small amount of satisfaction) Akihito’s nervous start. He turned to face the taller man.

“Because,” Akihito said, voice cracking, “You are so far out of my league. I know I have no chance against you. S-So p-please don’t hurt my father.”

Asami began unbuttoning his single-breasted vest slowly, capturing Akihito’s attention. Akihito felt his mouth go dry, blindsided by the sudden realization he desperately wanted Asami to be his first sexual experience. In spite of the guns and what they implied. His mouth fell open, and while Asami seemed to not notice, he wasn’t convinced the man wasn’t fully aware of his every move.

“What could I possibly do to your father, Akihito?” he asked, taking the vest off and tossing it over the back of the couch.

“You are the single most dangerous man I’ve ever met,” he replied, taking a step back. “You tell me what you’re capable of.”

His boy’s instincts were precise and more than a little impressive. Most average people Asami dealt with on a daily basis hadn’t caught on to his darker side. Then again, Akihito showed his awareness at first sight.

He’d chosen well.

“I’m not inclined to share that information with you,” he said, starting to unbutton the crisp white shirt.

Akihito’s eyes widened at the predatory smile; to both of their surprise, he eeped and ran through the closest door without giving it much thought. The soft, frightened cry evoked a genuine smile from Asami, who regarded it as the single cutest thing the young man had done so far.


 

Akihito slammed the door and fumbled with the lock, shaking with the adrenaline rush from fear and anticipation. The deadbolt clicked into place, and he held his breath; he backed a few steps away from the door, waiting for Asami to break it down. And when nothing happened, Akihito glanced around to find himself in the man’s inner sanctum—his bedroom. Of course the bastard wouldn’t be in a hurry to open the door. He groaned softly, fear overtaking anticipation as Asami’s scent surrounded him. It felt almost blasphemous for him to be standing in such a personal space.

The bed was huge, with clean lines to the bedframe, nightstands and dresser. There was a door on the same wall the head of the bed rested against, and Akihito assumed it led to Asami’s private washroom. Even thinking about it, he felt his cheeks heat up. He really stepped in it this time. There were French doors leading onto a spacious balcony and sheer white curtains over them to protect privacy while letting the sunlight in.

Akihito trotted onto the balcony and realized he was well and thoroughly caught: it was only a matter of time before Asami got the door open. It would be a waste of energy to lock himself in the bathroom, he figured, and would serve to piss Asami off (more than he was already, if he was angry at Akihito running). He heard the bolt unlock and another flash of adrenaline sped through his system. Damn the man was fast. Even though he knew he couldn’t escape, his body desperately wanted him to try.

He clutched at the rail with white knuckles, pulse beating frantically in his throat as Asami ambled onto the balcony with him. Akihito backed up, keeping as much space between he and Asami as he could. The wary look on his face reminded Asami of a wild animal, so he slowed his movements to prevent spooking the young man into doing something rash.

“Akihito,” the way Asami said his name left him half-erect and aching, “you and your father are innocent and have nothing to fear from me.”

Akihito’s side hit the external wall, and he leaned against it as his knees grew weak from Asami’s deep voice caressing over him.

“There is nowhere for you to go,” Asami continued and slowly held out a hand. “Place yourself into my keeping. You’ll be safe. I give you my word.”

“Do I have a choice?” Akihito asked, his voice sounding small even to himself.

“There is always a choice.”

Akihito watched closely for any sign of aggression but the man in front of him was still and calm. Before he lost his nerve, Akihito shut his eyes and reached out for him. They touched, and Asami wrapped a hand around Akihito’s wrist, gently drawing him close, and the younger man trembled against his chest. He stroked through the light brown hair, leading him back through the bedroom. Akihito kept his eyes averted as they passed the bed, a deep blush on his face, and into the washroom.

“Oh god,” he whispered, balking at the door.

Asami distracted him by sliding his hands under Akihito’s shirt, skimming over his abdomen, and trailing his lips down the side of the young man’s neck. Akihito sighed and tipped his head, fear evaporating with Asami’s gentle touches. A soft noise escaped as Asami removed his t-shirt with one hand, the other stroking over smooth skin. Akihito laid his head back against the strong shoulder but he tensed again when hands began unbuttoning his jeans.

He was hard, and being so exposed to him brought on another attack of painful self-consciousness. He grabbed the man’s forearms but Asami pressed on, and he gasped as his erection sprang free. A warm hand cupped his balls and Akihito’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head with the flood of pleasure through his body; the sensation was drastically different when it wasn’t his own hand. Something in the back of his mind was nagging him, telling him he should have a problem with Asami stripping them, but the only thing he was fully aware of were the hands expertly manipulating his arousal.

What finally pulled him out of his daze was the stream from the shower hitting his chest. Akihito’s breath hitched at the feel of Asami’s bare chest against his back, and he tensed again feeling Asami’s large cock resting dangerously close to his ass. Before he could panic, Asami fell upon his lips with bruising force, giving him no choice but to surrender to the rising passion. He turned Akihito to face him, making it easier to slip his tongue in Akihito’s mouth to sample the young man’s flavor.

Akihito gasped as Asami began massaging him with soap, his hands gliding sensuously over his skin. He groaned as the hand slicked over his cock, soap mixing with his precome. It was enough of a distraction that he cried out in shock, clutching at the older man’s shoulders, as Asami entered him suddenly with a finger. He slipped his arm under one of the young man’s leg; it threw Akihito off balance but also opened his hips, relieving some of the uncomfortable pressure in his ass. 

It didn’t take long for one finger to not be enough, and the second tore a groan from Akihito. The third had Akihito whimpering into Asami’s neck.

“Mm, you’re tight,” Asami whispered in his ear. “I can’t wait any longer.”

The two washed up and dried off amid stolen kisses and lingering touches. Asami swept Akihito into his arms, placing kisses against his neck as he carried the young man to the bed. Asami followed Akihito down and ran his lips down his neck, dragging a deep sigh from him as he bit gently on his mark from the night before. The sensations were so intense for Akihito that all he could do was bury his hands in Asami’s thick, black hair and ride them out. He writhed, throwing his head back and groaning, as Asami wrapped his mouth around his cock. He couldn’t hold his hips still but tried to control his thrusting as much as he could, though Asami didn’t seem to mind.

“Asa—oooooohhh—A—“ Akihito attempted to pull Asami off of his cock but quickly lost the battle with the imminent orgasm. He spilled down Asami’s throat, his balls drawn up with an exquisite pleasure so close to pain he couldn’t tell the difference, but didn’t want it to end. His body went limp, and he felt Asami shift his weight, pressing him into the mattress. Their lips met, and Akihito moaned softly at what he assumed was the taste of his spend.

“You are so sweet,” Asami growled, his voice distorted by lust. Akihito shivered.

Neither broke eye contact as Asami took the lube off his nightstand and slicked two fingers. He stroked through Akihito’s hair soothingly as he slowly pressed both into the smaller man’s body, watching every expression pass over his lover’s face. As he pulled out slowly, making sure the boy felt it all, Akihito’s head lolled back and a soft sigh escaped. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out and positioned the head of his cock at Akihito’s entrance, too impatient to prepare him any further.

Akihito tensed a little, knowing Asami’s cock was broader than his fingers, but Asami waited until he relaxed again. Then in one slow thrust, he seated himself in Akihito’s warmth. He cried out at the deep burn of penetration and keened softly when Asami stopped moving, his body clamping down painfully.

“Breathe, Akihito,” he said, holding still to give his body a little time to adjust.

“I-I can’t! Please take it out!”

“Breathe,” he repeated. “Your body will accept me. Just breathe.”

He threaded his fingers through Akihito’s and pinned his arms to the bed. He leaned in and kissed the trembling lips to distract him from the pain. Soon, his body opened to the intruder, and Akihito’s eyes grew wide when the sensation changed. Unable to hold back any longer, Asami pulled out and thrust in hard, wringing sharp cries of pleasure from his boy. Akihito came again quickly, this orgasm very different from his first—coming from inside and engulfing every nerve in his body—and Asami followed immediately after, filing his young lover.

Asami took a moment to catch his breath before he moved. Or tried to, anyway. Akihito held onto him, not letting go. With his face bright red, not looking at Asami, he whispered: “Please don’t move. I… like you inside of me.”

“Do you?” Asami asked, smirking down at him.

Akihito nodded, hiding his face in his hands. Asami flipped them over and sat with his back against the headboard. Akihito slid down on his hardening cock with a gasp, and he pulled a hand away to see Asami watching him, patiently waiting to see what he would do. Akihito reached out, touched the smooth skin of his face, then tentatively pressed their lips together. Asami took control once more, intent on having the young man again.


 

Hours later, Asami stood naked and smoking, looking down at the boy deeply asleep on his bed, and he was bemused at not being bothered by it. Quite the opposite, actually—he had an obscene urge to mark the boy’s outsides like he (thoroughly) marked his insides. He’d been rough the first time, and when he got up after the last time to clean himself off, he noticed small blood stains on the white sheets. Asami’s inner animal positively preened, and he spared a smirk for this primal instinct surfacing: the boy was his.

He crushed out the cigarette and was about to get back into bed when his cell phone vibrated from the nightstand. It was early Sunday morning and Kirishima knew better than to call him unless it was urgent. He took the phone and went into the living room to answer it.

“Yes?” he answered abruptly. Kirishima’s instant explanation for his call had Asami walking back through the bedroom and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Give me a moment.” He set the phone down on the sink and slipped on a pair of nitrile exam gloves before digging in the pockets of Akihito’s jeans. He almost growled when he withdrew a small, disc-shaped microphone from one of the front pockets. He picked up the phone again.

“Yes, it was there. I’ll pass it to Suoh,” he said and hung up.

Asami turned the glove inside out, with the bug still untouched, and went to the front door. Suoh bowed and took the glove from his boss.

“Let me know when you have any information on it.”

“Yes, Asami-sama,” the large man said and left.

Asami made his way back to the bedroom slowly, wondering who in their right mind would dare bug one of his employees. Kirishima mentioned surveillance footage of someone running into Akihito that very evening, but so far there was no luck in identifying the person: Asami didn’t need to tell Kirishima to continue searching—the man was like a hound on the scent of a rabbit. It would only be a matter of time before Kirishima flushed the culprit into the open.

Asami watched Akihito, his sleep restless. The young man’s brow was furrowed, and he whined softly in distress. He crawled back into bed and pulled Akihito into his arms, gently rubbing his back.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “There’s nothing to fear.”

Akihito sighed in his sleep and finally slipped into dreamlessness.


 

Chapter Text

_____________________

 

I know you've suffered
But I don't want you to hide
It's cold and loveless
I won't let you be denied

Soothing
I'll make you feel pure
Trust me
You can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognise your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers
That you're wicked and divine
You may be a sinner
But your innocence is mine

Please me
Show me how it's done
Tease me
You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognise your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Please me
Show me how it's done
Trust me
You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognise your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

 

(“Undisclosed Desires” by Muse)

 

_____________________

 


 

 The atmosphere of Club Akai was as greasy and oppressive as Tetsuya Takahashi, its owner, and in spite of a fraction of patrons being the unsavory type, the club managed to fill up most nights. Perhaps the reason for the club’s popularity was the male and female singers who, for the right price, would perform any lewd act the customer desired. Or perhaps it was the variety of illegal substances available for immediate use in the club’s backrooms—nevermind that on occasion some poor schmuck left in a body bag due to cyanide laced cocaine. That didn’t stop new clientele from replacing their fallen comrades before the body had cooled. There were no guarantees at Club Akai. It was an unspoken rule no one questioned.

And if they did, two body bags were as easy to dispose of as one…

Tetsuya crushed his cigarette out with more force than necessary. One body he would like to see tagged and bagged was that shit Takaba. The little fucker thought he could get away with kneeing him in the balls and breaking his most loyal guard’s nose—well, he would have the pretty boy begging for mercy by the time he was finished. Tetsuya’s groin throbbed in memory of the young singer’s harsh treatment. He growled as he glanced at the flyer tacked to the wall: it was from Club Sion and showcased the object of his ire. With a snarl, he pulled a knife and threw it, the blade embedding in the space between Akihito’s head and torso.

“What?” Tetsuya snapped when someone knocked on the door.

The guard with the broken nose stuck his head in the room. “Boss, a lady is here to see you—“

“She can damn well get in line like everyone else!”

“Tsk tsk, Takahashi-san,” the woman said as she pushed her way into his office. “That’s no way to speak about a potential ally.”

“Do I know you?” he sneered back.

“No. But we have a mutual acquaintance I would like to discuss with you.”

Tetsuya looked at the woman again and realized she worked for Asami Ryuuichi, singing at Club Sion. The touch of malice she injected into the word “acquaintance” gave him pause. It might be worth hearing her out. With a wave of his hand, the guard disappeared, shutting the door behind him.

“You have five minutes,” he stated.

Instead of launching into a rehearsed speech (which he expected), she sat and laid a single sheet of paper in front of him, positioned so he could read it. “Takaba Akihito” was on the first line with an address under it. The rest of the page was dates and the names of different clubs in Tokyo.

“That is the resume he submitted to Sion,” she explained, and he nodded. Club Akai wasn’t listed since he’d only just hired Takaba the night before their incident.

 “This is interesting,” he said, tossing the paper back onto the desk, “but what does it have to do with me?”

She stood and started unbuttoning her shirt. “You and all the owners of the clubs on that list have something in common.”

“The brat Takaba,” he supplied, eyes drifting to her cleavage.

She stepped toward him. “Not only the brat. Asami has stolen business from all of you. It would be poetic justice to steal his newest fuck toy, the same boy who spurned you and all the other club owners listed on his resume.”

“He sold himself to Asami?” he asked, eyebrows going up.

Tetsuya’d heard rumors about Asami fucking men as well as women, but the fact that one of those men was his former employee chafed. He almost groaned when she straddled him on the chair and slowly unlatched her lacy bra. She pressed forward and rubbed herself against his half-erect dick.

He slid his hand between them to ask: “What do you get out of this arrangement?”

She smirked.

“Revenge.”


 

Tuesday morning at Club Sion

 

Akihito was distracted. His fingers felt the keys of the piano beneath, and he played as if he were fully invested in the piece of music. However, his reality was anything but mundane as playing the accompaniment music for practice. His ass was still pleasantly sore from being taken a number of times by Asami, both Saturday evening and when he’d been woken slowly Sunday afternoon by the larger man simply running calloused hands over him. Saturday was frenzied, both desperate for the other. And Sunday—Sunday, he sighed internally—was a wonderful day of carnal exploration.

Asami’s smooth, bronzed flesh was warm and responsive to his virginal touches. His taste was addictive—caught somewhere between musk and rain. Asami stared at him in the moment of waking, and he shivered at the intensity boring through the flimsy sheets. On impulse, he tossed the covering off and rose onto his hands and knees, offering his body as a living sacrifice to this God of Storms. Upon reflection, Akihito realized he must have been a sight, legs tangled in the sheet and ass presented complete with his god’s dried seed on his thighs.

Even so, he could see the softening of Asami’s eyes, and though he didn’t quite smile, Akihito knew he’d pleased the man with his display. Asami took him gently with light kisses over his back and nape…

“…un. Aki-kun,” a voice broke in on his daydreaming.

“Hm? What?” he asked, noticing Michiko, one of the female singers, leaning against the piano with a curious expression on her face.

“You stopped playing,” she said, giggling a bit, “and you don’t seem like you’re all here.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I—uh, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“It’s okay, Aki-kun,” Nanami (another female singer) said, throwing her arms around Akihito’s neck in a hug.

“Alright. Let’s take a break,” Shiori snapped as she threw her hands up.

Around half of the singers went to the bar to pour themselves water from a number of pitchers lined up, and Akihito remained at the piano. He forced the sexually charged thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on playing, glancing up when the ambient noise suddenly ceased.

And his heart stuttered.

Asami had entered the room and was staring directly at him as he went around the bar, obviously going to Kirishima’s office. Akihito couldn’t take his eyes from the older man, and as a consequence of being completely distracted, hit a few sour notes on the piano. He winced and broke eye contact, face heating up. He looked at Asami again, gave him a small, boyish smile and received a genuine half-smile in return. He watched his boss disappear into the back hallway and released the breath he was holding.

“He’s so hot,” Nanami muttered.

“Yeah,” he whispered, staring at the hall until Asami reappeared.

He marveled at how Asami unconsciously commanded the attention of the room, his sleek figure dominating the space. Their eyes locked, and everyone fell away, leaving only the two of them. Almost without thought, he began playing “One Day” by Helen Jane Long, each note impregnated with the fierce, near-insatiable hunger Asami had awakened deep inside. The older man watched the play of emotion on his lover’s face, and if the man-child’s responses to their coupling over the weekend didn’t confirm his innocence, his piano playing certainly did. The expression on the boy’s face was beautiful, bearing his figurative throat with its lack of guile to Asami.

He could see two of the female singers exchanging whispers, jealousy written in their body language, and he determined he would need to assign another guard to Akihito. He gestured for his young lover to follow him and almost smiled when Akihito’s face registered surprised.

Akihito stopped playing immediately and stood, drawn to the man like a moth to flame. He trailed after Asami quietly, a flight of butterflies in his stomach. He was so preoccupied with wondering what Asami wanted, that he cried out when he was roughly pushed against the closed office door and kissed. He couldn’t help but respond to the insistent tongue and roving hands. With his back to the hard wood and his front to the hard body, he relaxed, only pulling away to gasp when the large hand rubbed over the bulge in his dress pants.

“Please,” he groaned when Asami unbuttoned his pants. He tried thrusting his cock into Asami’s hand, but it only earned him a soft chuckle.

“Impatient, are we?” the deep voice rumbled, sending a full body shiver through Akihito.

“Ye…es,” he replied, unaware of the blatant invitation his half-lidded glazed eyes sent.

“Take them off,” Asami whispered, breath teasing the sensitive hair on his ear.

His hands shook slightly as he obeyed, baring his body to the older man, and as he straightened, he pressed his forehead against Asami’s chest shyly, still not accustomed to being partially naked in front of another person. The skin Asami could see was bright red, and it only served to endear Akihito that much more to him. He stroked the soft hair, unable to remember the last time another person evoked such tender emotions in him. Not dwelling on it too long, he lifted Akihito by his thighs, parting them, and pressed him into the door again, their cocks touching through the fabric of his pants.

“You’re still a little swollen here,” Asami murmured, running the tip of a finger around Akihito’s entrance. “Are you still sore?”

Without lifting his head from the powerful chest, Akihito nodded.

“Do you want me to stop?”

After a moment, Akihito shook his head.

“Get on your hands and knees on the couch,” Asami commanded, setting his feet on the floor.

As he went to retrieve lube, he watched a nervous Akihito climb onto the black leather couch, and he smiled to himself. This would be nothing but pleasurable for the young man, Asami would see to it, and it would mark the beginning of the subtle molding of his boy.

Akihito inhaled sharply as Asami hand brushed over his ass cheek, the light touch raising the hairs all over his body. He pushed back into the hand as it massaged the muscle, and just when Akihito didn’t think he could handle any more teasing, Asami stroked over the delicate skin of his ass. The lube was cool but felt good and Akihito moaned, pushing back against Asami’s fingers. He whined when Asami drew back just enough to keep contact with his skin but not allow penetration.

“How badly do you want me inside?” he asked, pressing the very tip of his finger into the boy. Akihito’s eyes rolled up as he groaned, pushing back again, this time the finger slid all the way in. Akihito trembled at the full, aching sensation.

“Please, more, pleeease,” he begged and cried out sharply when a second finger was swiftly added.

Asami slowly, steadily finger fucked him until he felt Akihito’s body winding higher and higher, readying itself to fall over the precipice of orgasm. He wrapped his hand around the boy’s arousal, causing Akihito to keen, then shout as he released onto the polished leather. He collapsed onto his forearms, careful to not soil his shirt with seed. When his breathing finally evened out, Asami lifted his chin.

“You made a mess of my couch,” the older man mused, stroking over his cheek with a thumb. “What do good boys do when they make a mess?”

“Cl-Clean it up?” he asked, eyes wide.

Asami stood, folded his arms over his chest and waited, wondering how far he could push him. Will you take the first step with me? he thought to himself. He could see confusion, then surprise, and then he saw Akihito’s mind working. Hesitantly, the boy looked up at him, and lowered his mouth to his semen, giving it a tentative lick without breaking eye contact.

Asami’s cock filled quickly as the soft rasp of Akihito’s tongue over the leather was loud in the office. From their first private encounter, Asami knew he’d found an extremely passionate young man, and the last week proved him right. Asami also knew the strongest chain was the one a person willingly donned: he could afford to take time convincing Akihito to be his.

“How is that, Asami-san?” Akihito asked, voice husky, and gave Asami a playful little smirk. He sat up on his knees, nervous and hoping he read the other man correctly.

“Very good, Takaba-kun,” Asami said and stroked through the boy’s hair soothingly.

He pulled Akihito up to stand in front of him and bent over holding the younger man’s pants for him to step into. He put a hand on Asami’s shoulder to steady himself, and put one foot in, then the other. He drew in a shaky breath as Asami dragged the pants up his body and then pulled him onto the couch by the front of them, having him kneel over his lap. Their lips met and Akihito moaned.

“I really don’t know what I’m doing,” Akihito confessed when he pulled away to breathe. “And I’m scared I’m going to screw up.”

Asami took his face in both hands.

“You are doing fine,” he said. “Just continue being yourself.”

Akihito nodded after considering his words, then leaned forward and kissed him.

“When do you get off today?” Asami asked.

“Noon,” he muttered, nuzzling Asami’s jaw. “But I have a lunch date at twelve-thirty.”

“With whom?” he asked sharply, looking at him.

“With my friends,” Akihito replied, chuckling.

Asami pulled him closer. “Have dinner with me.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight,” he said. “Just dinner. No pressure.”

“Asami-san, are you asking me on a date?”

Asami’s expression grew serious. “Yes. I am.”

Akihito smiled sweetly at him.

“I would love to.”


 

Chapter Text

_____________________

 

Sat in the corner of the Garden Grill

With plastic flowers on the window sill
No more miracles, loaves and fishes

Been so busy with the washing of the dishes
Reaction level's much too high

I can do without the stimuli

I'm living way beyond my ways and means

Living in the zone of the in-betweens
I can see the flashes on the frozen ocean

A static charge of cold emotion
Watched on by the distant eyes

Watched on by the silent, hidden spies

But still the warmth flows through me
And I sense you know me well
No luck, no golden chances
No mitigating circumstances now
It's only common sense
There are no accidents around here

I am willing

Lay your hands on me
I am ready

Lay your hands on me
I believe

Lay your hands on me

Over me

Working in gardens, thornless roses

Fat men play with their garden hoses
Poolside love has a cynical bite

Sausage speared by the cocktail satellite
I walk away from from light and sound

Down stairways leading underground

But still the warmth flows through me
And I sense you know me well
It's only common sense
There are no accidents around here

I am willing

Lay your hands on me
I am ready

Lay your hands on me
I believe

Lay your hands on me

Over me
Over me

Lay your hands on me
Lay your hands on me
Lay your hands on me

Over me

 

(“Lay Your Hands On Me” by Peter Gabriel)

 

_____________________

 

Kou and Takato stared at Akihito, then shot sideway glances between themselves. Since they’d met up with their friend at their favorite ramen shop, the shorter man seemed as if he were lost in his own world, coming out of it only when either Kou or Takato were insistent on a response. But as soon as he gave his one-word answers, he would slip away from them once again. The final straw was the small portion of noodles Akihito ordered. Usually, he could put away a large bowl and go back for seconds. Add to that the distant look on his face and both of them were worried.

Maybe his boss again? Takato texted under the table to Kou.

Not sure. He liked this one, Kou replied.

Ask him.

You ask him, Kou said, shooting Takato a dirty look.

No. He gets pissed at me.

Kou snorted, attracting Akihito’s attention.

“Alright, what?” he asked, continuing to play with his food.

“What ‘what’?” Takato asked and shoved another glob of ramen into his mouth.

Akihito put his chopsticks down.

“The two of you have been staring at me since we sat down. It’s obvious you want to say something, so say it. Besides,” he said, giving each of them a pointed look in turn, “I can hear you texting each other.”

Kou managed to look sheepish, but Takato set his bowl down and spoke.

“Aki, we’re just concerned. You usually eat more and you don’t seem interested in what we’re talking about. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied with a small smile.

Kou’s eyes grew wide as he fit the pieces of the puzzle together. He leaned over and in a loud whisper said: “Did Aki-chan get laid over the weekend?”

“You got laid?” Takato blurted out loudly, causing Akihito to lunge across the table at him, covering his mouth only after he’d snagged the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

“Shh!” Aki hissed, sitting back down with his face a fiery shade of red.

Holy shit, Aki! Who was it?” he continued when Akihito released him.

Takato knew he was being ignored when Akihito sipped his green tea, so he pouted. Akihito finally sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. My boss.”

“Why— how—” he stuttered and shook his head. “I don’t think I’m ever going to vacation again without taking you with me. How did that happen?”

“In the usual way,” Aki said, snickering. “At least, I assume it’s usual. Since it was my first time, I don’t have much to compare it with.”

His comment had the three friends laughing together again, momentary tension gone from the gentle teasing.

“So when are we going to meet your boyfriend?” Kou asked.

“We’re not really… going out.”

“You’re fuck buddies?” Takato asked, incredulously.

“We haven’t discussed it yet.” He smiled shyly, looking at his teacup. “He’s taking me on a date tonight.”

They visited another twenty minutes, until Kou stated he needed to get to work. The three of them left, and Kou and Takato exchanged covert smiles as they watched Akihito walk away with the dreamy expression only a first major crush could put on a face.


Akihito knew he wore a stupid grin as he walked back to his shared apartment. He couldn’t help it. He was beginning to feel that his life was coming together after all the time and energy he’d invested in it: a great job he loves and feels safe at, great friends… a possible long term lover. Akihito felt himself blush in remembrance of the wickedly wonderful things Asami had done. So wrapped up in those delightful memories, he was completely caught off-guard when someone bodily ran into him.

“Oh my, I apologize!” Akihito said immediately, bowing low.

“No, no! Please forgive— Akihito?” Sato asked, looking up from his own bow.

“Sato!” he exclaimed, smile fading when he saw the other man’s expression. “Is everything okay? We missed you this morning at practice.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I’m alright. I called Kirishima-san to let him know I’d be in later. My girlfriend and I had a fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Sato said.

Akihito glanced at his watch, making sure he would have enough time to prepare for his date with Asami, and said: “Would you like to talk about it? I have a bit of time to kill.”

“Do you— are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he said, throwing an arm around Sato’s shoulders. “My place is just down the street. I’ll make coffee.”

When they got to the apartment, Akihito tossed his backpack on the couch and went into the kitchen to set up the coffee pot. While the other man was distracted, Sato examined the apartment carefully, making note of the location of doors and windows and committing it to memory. He put his messenger bag on the couch next to Akihito’s and with a feigned casualness, ambled around the living room, looking at a number of photos of Akihito with two other men.

“Kou and Takato,” Akihito said from the doorway, startling Sato a bit. “My two best friends.”

“You guys seem to have a lot of fun,” he commented, staring at one picture of the three of them at the beach, Akihito in the middle with their arms around each other.

“We do. Creamer?”

“Please.”

It didn’t take a lot of time for Akihito to return with two cups of coffee, and he handed his Elton John concert souvenir mug to Sato.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Akihito asked.

Sato shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, now that I’m thinking about it. We’ve got a kid, and we were arguing about where to send him to school.”

“How old is he?”

“Almost a year and a half,” he said with a half-smile. “I’m thinking now that conversation was a bit premature.”

Akihito chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds pointless to talk about right now.”

“We live just a couple of blocks down the road here,” he said, gesturing with his mug. “I’d just like to be out of this neighborhood before the kid is school aged.”

The conversation meandered for several more minutes while they finished their coffees. As Akihito took their mugs to the kitchen, Sato’s phone rang.

“Hi sweetie,” he answered.

“Did you get the layout of the apartment yet?” the female voice said by way of greeting.

“Yes dear, I’m sorry too.”

“Good,” she replied, drawing out the pleased sound.

“Would you like to discuss it right now? I’m just down the road.”

“Get out of there as soon as you can.” And the line went dead.

“Sure, I’ll be home in a few,” he said, standing. “Bye.”

“It sounds like the two of you have a good relationship,” Akihito observed.

“I like to think we do,” Sato replied and picked up his bag. “I hate to just leave so suddenly—”

“Not at all. You should get home and get things ironed out. We’ll have you over at a better time.”

They went to the door, and Sato thanked him for the coffee as he exited. What Akihito missed was the change in Sato’s face as the taller man walked away.


 

Kou opened the door to the complex in which he shared an apartment with Akihito and cursed vehemently at the broken elevator signs posted. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. He yanked the door to the stairs open and started climbing. It wasn’t unusual to pass others on the stairs, and he heard the guy long before he actually saw him. His parents must’ve never taught him that speaking loudly on a cell phone didn’t make it any easier to hear on the other end, Kou thought peevishly. As they passed on a landing between staircases, the other man completely ignored Kou in favor of the heated conversation he was having.

Kou, however, almost did a double take, convinced he’d seen this man before.

“…yes, I remember! And no! He had no clue… yes, I’m sure you bitch!” the guy spat.

Kou kept walking until he could only see the other’s shadow, and he stopped, listening. A seed took root in him, and he couldn’t shake the sudden foreboding roiling in his gut.

“I suggest the next time you want information, you get it yourself if you doubt what I say!... Yeah, I’ll be at Sion tonight…”

Kou continued to the apartment, mulling over the things he’d heard. He called out to Akihito when he opened the door. Receiving no answer, he went into his room and grabbed the duffle bag with his chef uniform he’d forgotten to take to lunch. He left the room and a high-pitched scream to his left startled him. Akihito stood naked, save for a towel wrapped around his hips and iPod earphones conveniently blocking out everything.

Fuck, Kou! Why didn’t you say something?”

In spite of being in a foul mood, Kou laughed. “I did, you dork! You had your music too loud again.”

“I thought you had to work,” Akihito said, digging in the hall closet for a fresh razor.

“I forgot my gear again, and I think I’m going to get written up for it this time.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Kou sighed. “What are you doing? I thought your date was tonight.”

“It is,” he replied. “I thought I would get a shower and take a nap before dinner.”

“Ahh, well, have a good time. I expect details, you know.”

“You wish,” Akihito said and shut the washroom door.

Kou was about to leave again, but the weird feeling he’d had came back to him full force. He went back into the hallway and knocked on the washroom door. Akihito answered it while brushing his teeth.

“The elevators are being repaired again, and I passed a man on the stairs—”

“Sato-san,” he said immediately. “He’s my personal guard from the club.”

“Mmm,” Kou mumbled, nodding absently.

“He and his girlfriend live down the street here from us. They were bickering when I ran into him, so I invited him over for coffee.”

“Bickering?” he asked, a bit surprised. “Huh. From what I heard on the stairs, it sounded like more than a lover’s squabble.”

Akihito gave him a curious look. “How odd.”

Kou shrugged. “It’s probably nothing. The stairs were echoing pretty badly. Anyway, have fun tonight.”

As he left, Kou made a mental note to call Takato and get his opinion as soon as he had a break. He wouldn’t burden Akihito when he had a date to get ready for.


 

Akihito couldn’t help but stare at the extremely expensive restaurant looming up before them and feel his palms get sweaty. Bamboo Point was intimidating, especially from what Kou had told him of the place. Give him a microphone and an audience and he was perfectly able to set aside his nerves. But throw him into a room full of rich people having dinner and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. As if he’d just spoken aloud, Asami wrapped an arm around him.

“Don’t worry,” the velvety voice curled around him, “the rooms are private. Everyone dines separately.”

“Oh,” Akihito said and gave him a relieved glance. “Thank you.”

“I told you no pressure, and I meant no pressure,” he explained and offered an arm. “Shall we?”

Akihito relaxed fully and took Asami’s arm, content to be led into the entryway where a tall, lithe woman dressed in a black and white silk kimono bowed deeply to them.

“Asami-sama,” she said, remaining in the bow, “please follow me.”

They followed her down one of two long hallways with glass shouji doors and numerous shoes outside of each room at regular intervals on either side. She knelt beside one of the last rooms and opened the door with both hands, her eyes never leaving the floor. If Akihito didn’t know they were in a restaurant, he wouldn’t have been able to guess by the décor. Simplistic ink paintings of bamboo and cherry blossoms and temples and kanji adorned the walls both outside and inside the room. The hallway floor was bamboo, and tatami were laid inside the room with a short table with two black cushions toward the middle.

Both removed their shoes before stepping onto the tatami to kneel in seiza. Another woman appeared at the table with a tokkuri and poured two cups of hot sake for them. She bowed with her head to the floor when she was finished, then waited until Asami dismissed her to rise and leave silently. Asami lifted his cup in a toast and Akihito followed his example, unconsciously aware of how small and fragile the cup appeared in Asami’s hand.

“To our descent,” he said softly.

“Kanpai,” Akihito replied just as quietly.

Together they drank, their gazes locked over the cup rims. Akihito didn’t yield until they both set their cups on the table and the burning intensity of Asami’s stare became too much for him to endure. Asami smirked to himself at his young lover’s residual nervousness in his presence, even daring to think it was endearing. He almost chuckled at the path his thoughts went down, but knew Akihito would wither if he did, not knowing Asami wasn’t laughing at him. The boy was young. And there was a tendency for young things to be highly insecure.

Asami contented himself to pour both he and Akihito another cup.

“Do you like traditional Japanese cuisine?” Asami asked and sipped at his second cup.

“I do,” Akihito replied, looking at him.

“The staff is aware of my preferences here, but if there is something you would like other than what I’ve ordered, please tell me and we’ll get it.”

Akihito nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure whatever you’ve ordered will be more than sufficient.”

Akihito’s stomach was so tied up in knots that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat much anyway. Earlier in the day he’d been excited about going on a real date with Asami, but the reality of it was much more nerve-wracking than he thought it would be—not the least of the experience being the all-consuming, predatory attention of the man on the other side of the table. He couldn’t stop staring at Asami’s lips and just began to plan out what steps he’d need to take to taste them again when he realized Asami was speaking to him.

“…before Sion?”

He dragged his eyes to Asami’s and saw amusement at his obvious distraction.

“I-I ap-pologize,” Akihito said. “I didn’t hear what you were saying.”

“What clubs were you employed at before Sion?” Asami repeated.

“Uh—um, the last one was Club Akai,” he said, pausing to down the sake in front of him. As soon as he set the cup down, Asami had it filled again. “I didn’t put it on my resume though because I had to quit before ever singing there.”

“That’s a pity. Takahashi must have been disappointed to lose you.”

Akihito snorted, a bitter sound to Asami’s ears, and slammed the next cup as well. The sake hit Akihito harder and faster than he was expecting it to, so when Asami filled it a fourth time, he didn’t pick it up immediately.

“Truthfully, Takahashi was probably thrilled to see me leave,” he muttered.

“Oh?” Asami prompted, interest piqued.

He lifted his own sake cup and sipped again, and as he was anticipating, the boy downed his fourth cup. He wanted information about his new lover and knew that while the young man was easy to read, there were probably things Akihito would never say unless generously lubed with alcohol. And it certainly didn’t take much time or much alcohol to get him to open up.

“He attempted to molest me, and I convinced him it was a bad idea,” Akihito said, eyes sparkling.

“What did you do?” he asked with a half-smile.

“I kneed him in the balls.”

“Violent little thing, aren’t you?” Asami commented playfully, hiding his sudden erection from the thought of taming such a wildcat.

Akihito sighed, his own smile fading somewhat. “I don’t see myself as violent. Not really. But I’ve had so many problems with my employers that I’ve had to learn to defend myself.”

Asami leaned forward slightly. “Problems? Like what?”

“More of the same—kissing, groping, threats of rape,” he said, unable to look at Asami.

“Akihito,” he said gently and waited until he had Akihito’s attention. “Do you feel safe at Sion?”

Asami could feel unasked questions between them, but Akihito must have found what he was looking for in the hard lines of Asami’s face. The corner of his mouth lifted and he visibly relaxed.

“Yes, I do.”

Neither of them said anything as three women entered carrying trays of sushi, sashimi and miso, and by the time the hostesses left, the serious atmosphere had lifted.

“Come here,” Asami said as Akihito went for his chopsticks. Akihito hesitated, then lowered his hand. Asami pointed to the floor next to him and slowly, Akihito crawled to the indicated place, kneeling when he got there.

He was well on his way to becoming very uncomfortable when Asami said: “Good boy.”

Aki felt color bloom in his cheeks, though not from his usual anger response at being called ‘boy’, and in that moment he knew: something was growing between them. Something frightening and wonderful, intense and wild. Something so completely out of his control but something he so desperately needed. Asami watched the myriad emotions play out, waiting patiently for his young man to give indication he was ready for what Asami had planned. Akihito inhaled deeply, taking a cleansing breath, and let it out shakily. Asami knew, in spite of the slight trembling, he was ready.

“Close your eyes, Akihito.”

He visibly swallowed and obeyed. After several heartbeats, Asami picked up a small piece of salmon.

“Open your mouth,” he said and was pleased when the response was instant.

Akihito’s lips closed around the bamboo chopsticks and sucked on them gently when Asami pulled them out. He moaned softly as he chewed, the flavor of the fish mild and buttery on his tongue. They continued in silence as Asami fed both of them, and when most of it was gone, he set the chopsticks down.

“Are you still hungry?”

Akihito could feel his heart beating in his throat at the question. “Not for food.”

He could hear Asami moving but couldn’t figure out what he was doing. And then Asami’s lips were on his. He opened to the older man and burning sake poured down his throat. The bite of the sake was offset by Asami’s unique taste, and he groaned deeply, nearly coming from the kiss alone.

“Please,” he whimpered against the strong neck.

Asami’s hand fisted in his hair, and Akihito could hear him moving the dishes on the table before being pushed onto his stomach on the table. He still knelt but was able to relax against the larger man. He made a soft noise of desire as Asami wrapped his body around him, feeling the thick cock against his ass even though both still wore pants. His wrists were captured and pinned. He couldn’t move.

Akihito was so aroused he shook, teeth chattering.

“Akihito.”

It came out as a growl, warm breath teasing the hair on his nape, and he jerked beneath the heavy body.

“H-hai,” he whispered, voice low and husky.

“Open your eyes, baby.” He did so, laying his head to one side.

“Do you feel how much I want to sink into you right now?” Asami asked, pressing his painfully hard groin into Akihito’s ass.

“Hai.”

Asami put both of his wrists in one hand and dragged his other hand down Akihito’s body to his cock. Asami grazed over the large patch of precome on the front of the smaller man’s dress pants to gently massage his sac, which was already drawn up tightly against his body.

“So close,” Asami whispered against Akihito’s ear, then nibbled on its sensitive skin.

The action wrenched a guttural cry from deep inside, even as he bucked into Asami’s hand. Every muscle contracted painfully, his body spilling warm, sticky seed against his abdomen. As quickly as his orgasm came, it ended, and he went limp beneath Asami before promptly passing out.


 

Akihito crawled slowly out of the hangover fog he was in. His stomach wasn’t terribly happy with him, and his head felt like it was about to explode. The only positive thing about waking up was Asami’s scent surrounding him. He stretched, reaching out to wrap an arm around Asami. Perhaps it would be better to stay in bed with… with… what the fuck? he thought irritably when his hand didn’t connect with a body. He cracked an eye open, expecting to see Asami lying with him, but only saw the man’s black trench coat. Well, that explained the scent. Akihito buried his nose in the coat and inhaled deeply, shivering. His forehead crinkled in confusion as he realized he couldn’t recall anything after he’d come, save a few wispy memories he wasn’t able to fully grasp. Headache medication, take a piss, go back to bed, and then the memories might come. He managed to drag himself out of bed, noting with a bit of confusion that he was at his own apartment, and into the washroom. He swallowed a couple of ibuprofen, stood at the toilet… and sobered up immediately.

What the fuck was on the head of his cock?!

Aki bolted back into his bedroom—still no sign of Asami—and frantically looked around for something, anything, to explain what the hell was going on. He saw a cream colored envelope propped against the lamp on his nightstand with his name in clean script on the front. He took it and sat on the bed to crack it open.

A short note was scrawled on the elegant paper:

 

Akihito

 

Thank you for a wonderful evening. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I will be out of the city until Friday night.

 

Asami

 

P.S.

 

I almost forgot: I will take off your chastity device when I return, before you perform.


 

Chapter Text

_____________________

 

"Seven Days" was all she wrote
A kind of ultimatum note
She gave to me, she gave to me
When I thought the field had cleared
It seems another suit appeared
To challenge me, woe is me
Though I hate to make a choice
My options are decreasing mostly rapidly
Well we'll see
I don't think she'd bluff this time
I really have to make her mine
It's plain to see
It's him or me

Monday, I could wait till Tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine, Thursday's on my mind
Friday'd give me time, Saturday could wait
But Sunday'd be too late

The fact he's over six feet ten
Might instill fear in other men
But not in me, The Mighty Flea (flee?)
Ask if I am mouse or man
The mirror squeaked, away I ran
He'll murder me in time for his tea
Does it bother me at all
My rival is Neanderthal

It makes me think
Perhaps I need a drink
IQ is no problem here
We won't be playing Scrabble for

Her hand I fear
I need that beer

Monday, I could wait till Tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine, Thursday's on my mind
Friday'd give me time, Saturday could wait
But Sunday'd be too late

Seven days will quickly go
The fact remains, I love her so
Seven days, so many ways
But I can't run away

But I can’t run away

Monday, I could wait till Tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine, Thursday's on my mind
Friday'd give me time, Saturday could wait
But Sunday'd be too late

 

But Sunday’d be too late

But Sunday’d be too late


Do I have to tell a story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me that ends up getting wet

 

(“Seven Days” by Sting)

 

_____________________

 


As Asami carried the sleeping young man up the stairs to the floor his apartment was on, he couldn’t help but think how thin and light he was. It was something to keep an eye on. He couldn’t have his best singer and lover lose weight—the boy didn’t have it to lose. Kirishima followed silently behind him, and when they reached the door, opened it with a duplicate key he had made, unbeknownst to Akihito. Asami nodded to him, and he took up point in the hallway, waiting patiently for his employer to leave the small apartment.

Asami laid Akihito on his bed, still wrapped in his trench coat from when Asami took him from the restaurant. Careful to not wake him, Asami undressed and cleaned him up. He took his time, running calloused hands down near-smooth legs and over the gentle ridges of Akihito’s abdomen. Akihito moaned softly in his sleep and shifted onto his back as Asami’s hand lifted his flaccid cock. The boy’s lips parted, his head arched back a bit as Asami slipped the silicone chastity device over the head of his cock and locked it on with a wicked grin. The silicone was cooler than body temperature, and it wrenched an uncomfortable whine from his boy.

“…ami-san,” Akihito muttered, adding the polite honorific in his sleep, much to Asami’s amusement.

“I’m here, kitten,” he whispered, stroking the young man’s cheek.

Unexpectedly, Akihito’s eyes snapped open. Asami didn’t move, waiting for the younger man to figure out that something was different about his body, but the tirade he half expected didn’t happen. With wide eyes, Akihito reached out to him, ran his hands clumsily over his face, and then crawled into Asami’s lap, nuzzling into his neck. With a deep sigh, his whole body went limp as he fell back into a deeper sleep, not really awake to begin with. It touched the older man on a completely new level to be given such trust by a lover. He took his coat, wrapped Akihito in it, and held him close, simply enjoying the intimacy of sharing his personal space with another.

After holding the innocent boy for over half an hour, Asami laid him down on the kid’s bed.

“I will fight to never be unworthy of your trust,” he said softly, after tucking Akihito under his coat and a thin blanket.

Asami placed an envelope on the nightstand with a smirk and slipped out the front door.


 

As Friday rolled around, Akihito grew more anxious to get the silicone chastity device off, so he headed to Sion as early as he could to wait for Asami’s return. The bartenders arrived as early as one in the afternoon, with the performers starting to trickle in around two o’clock, but the bartenders (two female, one male) were pleasantly surprised to see Akihito waiting at the locked door at quarter ‘til one.

“Aki-kun!” Aika said with a beaming smile.

The more feminine of the two women, she enjoyed flirting with Akihito since it wouldn’t go anywhere because of his orientation. The two had discussed going on a friend date but hadn’t, as yet, made firm plans.

“Aika-chan! I didn’t know you were on the schedule today,” he replied, watching her pull the single key attached to at least four feet of anime character key chains out of her Hello Kitty purse.

“Michiko called in sick today, so I offered to take her place at the bar. Nanami is going to sing for her tonight.”

There were four employees who worked both as singers and bartenders, filling holes in the schedule as needed: Michiko, Nanami, Kentarou (the man opening Sion with Aika and Madoka, the other woman), and Watanabe Akira, one of the young men hired at the same time as Takaba, was also in training to aid the bar when he wasn’t slated to sing. The quartet entered the nightclub and began opening procedures while Takaba took his jacket off and sat at the piano on stage. He played through his current battery of songs, ending on Helen Jane Long’s One Day and continuously flubbed it; every time he attempted it, his thoughts would wander to his lover and tear his concentration away from the music. After the sixth or seventh blunder, he noticed Kirishima pop out from his office, then disappear, only to reappear with… a violin case?

And as Kirishima approached him, Akihito was given another surprise.

“Kirishima-san! Your glasses!”

“Yes,” the older man replied, setting the case on the stage. “I misplaced them yesterday, so I’m wearing contacts.”

“They don’t look bad,” Akihito offered with a smile.

“Well, thank you, Takaba-kun. I can’t wear them for long periods of time, though. They irritate my eyes.”

He watched as Kirishima opened the case and lovingly pulled the instrument from its bed. He nestled it in the crook of his neck, made very minor adjustments to it, and then nodded to Akihito.

“Go ahead,” the manager-turned-violinist said, motioning to the piano with his chin.

“I’m sorry?”

“Play One Day again. Perhaps the accompaniment will help you keep your mind on what you’re doing.”

Akihito felt his ears go red, knowing that very little escaped the manager’s keen powers of observation, but leaned over the keys once more.


 “Asami-sama,” Suoh’s voice broke into his boss’ protected work time.

“This had better be good, Suoh,” Asami replied without looking up from the report in his hand.

“Sir, I think you need to see this.”

Suoh’s bemused tone gave him pause. His Chief of Security was never bemused. He glanced up from the papers, mildly surprised to see a barely-visible furrow between Suoh’s eyes. He set the report down and reached for a cigarette. After all, whatever had the giant of a man so worked up could only be headache inducing for him.

He lit the cancer stick as he followed Suoh to his private viewing room, complete with a wall of one-way, bulletproof glass primarily overlooking the stage. Asami felt his heart begin beating just a bit faster at the sight of his lover dressed in ass hugging jeans, sitting at the piano practicing. But his attention was captured quickly by Kirishima playing… playing the violin.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Asami whispered, taking another drag on the cigarette.

At Asami’s nod, Suoh pushed a button that allowed the music from below to flutter around the room; like the window, it was also one-way. Both of them were incredible musicians and to hear them playing together pleased Asami. As the song came to an end, the opening bartenders clapped and whooped in appreciation. He turned to Suoh.

“How long have they been playing together?”

“It started this afternoon, Asami-sama.”

Asami nodded slowly, watching his trusted operations manager speak with Akihito about times they could get together outside of work to practice. He marveled at his boy’s power to disarm the strongest among them. Even Suoh had confessed to taking a liking to the kid, which was a feat in and of itself in Asami’s opinion, especially since Takaba hadn’t been at Sion very long.

“Do you have the schedule for tonight?”

“Yes, Sir,” Suoh said and handed him the paper with the singers’ names and routines for the evening. Asami smirked as he read over the songs and the general run-down of each Akihito was performing. He figured his young lover could wait to have the chastity device removed.

“Suoh.”

“Sir?”

“I have a task for you.”


 

Takaba rubbed his hands together as he nervously scanned the Friday crowd for any sign of Asami. When he saw neither his lover nor Suoh, he slipped back behind the curtain and took to pacing. He stopped abruptly when he almost ran Nanami over.

“Whoa! Aki-kun, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” he said with a weak smile. “I’m—”

“—waiting for a lover,” Aika supplied, coming up from behind them to hand Akihito a blended margarita. “He must be to have such a forlorn look on his face! So… who is he?”

“He? Um, ha ha, yeah,” Takaba stammered, not knowing quite how to respond. Even Akira, waiting for his and Takaba’s turn on stage, peered at the younger man with no small amount of amusement over the ladies’ heads. Quickly, he guzzled a large portion of the margarita, the coarse salt on the rim biting into his tongue, buying some time to figure out what he would say.

“He’s sleeping with the boss,” Shiori said from behind them.

Akihito had to fight to keep from spitting the alcohol out. The chorus of gasps was punctuated by his pained coughs, and Shiori muscled her way through the dumbfounded singers to pound on his back. The expression on her face was almost sympathetic.

“Do we need a review of the rules?” Shiori growled, scowling fiercely at the others. “I suggest all of you stop gossiping about Asami’s less-than-secret sexual orientation and start treating Takaba-san with the respect due to the boss’ current lover.”

“Wait a minute,” Nanami said, putting fists on her hips. “Asami-sama’s lovers have never had special treatment before.”

Shiori leveled a glare at her. “Exactly. All of you are acting like a bunch of fangirls and trying to pry into his private life when you should be working.”

Akihito was too mortified to notice the sheepish and apologetic glances sent his way as the girls went back to preparing for their numbers, and Akira was tucked off to the side, waiting for Takaba. Shiori put an arm around the young man.

“They don’t mean any harm, Takaba-san. Well, usually,” she said and gently pushed him toward Watanabe.

Akihito stood stunned as she walked away with the remainder of his drink.

“What just happened?”

“The Tiger defended you,” Akira replied, still amused.

“Yeah, but who the hell is she that she can speak about our boss like that?”

“You haven’t heard?” When Takaba shook his head, Akira continued: “Shiori-san is Asami-san’s older cousin. She’s worked here since Sion opened, and apparently, he trusts her almost as much as he trusts Kirishima-san.”

Takaba’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How do you know all that?”

“You’re not the only one making the rounds,” he said smugly.

Akihito sputtered. “M-Making r-rounds?! I-I’m not—!”

“Oh look, it’s time for us to perform,” Watanabe cut him off and dragged him on stage.

As soon as they stepped into the light, Akihito’s natural showman burst to the forefront as the strings began playing Sting’s song Seven Days, and Akira’s accusation was momentarily forgotten.

“ ‘Seven Days’ was all she wrote, a kind of ultimatum note,” Akihito began singing into the hastily grabbed mic. He half-knelt at the edge of the stage, smiling at his adoring female fans. “She gave to me, she gave to me.”

He stepped into the audience.

“When I thought the field had cleared, it seems another suit appeared… To challenge me,” he sang, turned back to the stage where Akira was playing the guitar, and had to do a double take at Suoh standing on stage. The hand he’d bitten was bandaged. Was that really less than a week ago? Akihito managed to muse.

Suoh smirked and crooked his finger at the young singer.

“Woe is me.”

He quickly put a table between Suoh and himself, though it didn’t seem the blond giant was moving from his position.

“Though I hate to make a choice, my options are decreasing mostly rapidly… well we’ll see…”

He focused again on charming the audience but kept the bodyguard in his line of sight, just in case the man decided to make a move in his direction, and continued singing. And when the chorus came up for the first time, Akira put the guitar down and picked up his own mic, joining Akihito on the floor.

“Monday, I could wait till Tuesday,” they sang, harmonizing and driving the young women in the audience wild. “If I make up my mind, Wednesday would be fine, Thursday’s on my mind, Friday’d give me time, Saturday could wait… but Sunday’d  be too late.”

Akihito sat at one of the tables with four women, one of which nearly swooned to have him there, and pointed at Suoh, singing the next verse.

“The fact he’s over six feet ten, might instill fear in other men, but not in me”—Akihito clearly saw Suoh roll his eyes—“the Mighty Flea.”

“Ask if I am mouse or man, the mirror squeaked, away I ran,” he sang, then leaned over to the ladies at the table, nodding at Suoh. “He’ll murder me, in time for his tea.”

With a smile, Takaba stood and narrowed his eyes at Suoh in obvious challenge to the man. “Does it bother me at all, my rival is Neanderthal? It makes me think, perhaps I need a drink.”

His heart leapt when Asami’s guard took a step toward him. Akihito scooted backward, trying to keep at least one table between them. He knew Suoh wouldn’t make a scene. “I.Q. is no problem here, we won’t be playing Scrabble for her hand I fear…”

Oh shit! He was wrong—Suoh was about to make a scene!

“I need that beer!”

Akira shot him a look as Suoh made his way down the stairs to the side of the stage but both men were consummate performers. When the musical cue for the chorus came they were on it, even though Takaba was not where he was supposed to be. Instead, he carefully wove his way through the tables as Akira picked up the lead vocal and he supported.

As they continued singing, he was sure Suoh would at least ease up on chasing him through the crowd (paying customers!) but the wall didn’t. As a performer, Akihito was glad the audience thought it was all part of the show. As a man, however, he was a little confused and a lot pissed! Why in the world would Asami send his bodyguard after him while he was on stage? It was humiliating, to say the least! He almost growled into the mic, pulling it away just enough so it wouldn’t ruin Akira’s part of the song.

He took a moment to notice the people were truly enjoying watching him get chased around the room by the knuckle-dragger. Well, alright then. Obviously, the man was going to haul his ass out of there one way or another. He just needed the finesse to make it look intentional. He trotted around one of the tables and sat in an open chair. With an award-winning smile, he took one of the ladies’ fruity drinks and drank with a wink at her. The brunette giggled when he made a face at the taste of the sour alcohol, then laughed with her.

“Monday, I could wait till Tuesday,” he sang after a flirty peck to the back of the lady’s hand. The crowd was enthralled watching Suoh chase after the singer, shamelessly flirting with any and all of the women—and even one or two of the men—he crossed in his haste to get away. Even Akira was chuckling when he wasn’t at the mic. Toward the end of the song, Suoh moved with more grace and speed than Akihito would ever have credited him for and swept the young man up and over his shoulder with a shocked yelp, sending the crowd into a fit of laughter.

Takaba struggled theatrically until Suoh got him behind the stage curtain, and then he really started struggling after he turned the microphone off and tossed it to the side.

“Put me down you lugor I’ll bite you again!” he snapped.

“Not until I’ve done what Asami-sama has ordered.”

That drew Akihito up short, and he stopped struggling for the moment. Thankfully, Suoh only took him to his dressing room and put him down at the door.

“Go inside and wait.”

At the command, Takaba stuck his tongue out and slammed the door on the guard. He leaned his back against the door and sighed. Maybe Asami would be meeting him here before his next number—fuck! He and Akira were singing again just after Nanami. He should probably tell Suoh to tell Asami... and as he went for the door, a leather glove clad hand yanked him back by the back of his shirt collar. He was pushed face-first into the wall and held immobile while he attempted to thrash and scream. Damnit! What a bad time to be in his soundproof dressing room! Sure there were cameras, but if this guy…

Oh wait…

The scent of his lover teased his nose, and he groaned, immediately ceasing his struggles. Damn the man for smelling so good.

“You’re an ass,” he breathed as Asami’s hard body held him against the wall while those gloved hands undid his belt.

He shivered as Asami’s cigarette-scented breath caressed over his ear and down his neck as the larger man laughed quietly.

Close. He was too close.

Akihito closed his eyes, tried to stifle the second groan but couldn’t.

His breath hitched as his pants fell to the floor, and through the fabric of Asami’s expensive, tailor-made suit, he felt Asami’s long, thick shaft straining toward him. And Takaba had a sudden surge of fierce satisfaction and pride that he was able to do that to this incredibly powerful man. He glanced at Asami over his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded, his body relaxing in invitation, and for just a heartbeat, something wild and predatory flashed over Asami’s face, making him more animal than man in that span of time.

He started involuntarily at the soft sound of a switchblade unsheathing, and he was quickly divested of his underwear before he could protest.

“Wait! I-I still h-have to sing—”

“Hn. Well, you should be pleased I didn’t cut open your pants,” Asami muttered against his neck, amused.

“Ah… aahh…AHHH!” he cried out as Asami gently ran his fingertips—when had the gloves come off?—over the delicate skin of his balls. It was torture. He could feel all of it, but couldn’t get hard, couldn’t come. Asami shifted slightly, pressed him further into the wall, and Akihito found himself wrapped in the solid strength of Asami’s arms, sheltered by the trench coat the man wore. He would have chuckled if his arousal wasn’t so goddamned painful. How many of those things did Asami own?

“Pl-Please… n-need…” he stuttered, and his mouth was suddenly filled with three fingers.

He laved them enthusiastically, head lolling back onto Asami’s chest with a moan. Before he knew it, they were gone and he released a long trembling sigh as one impatient finger slid in deep. The second and third followed quickly, barely enough time in between for him to adjust to the invasion, but he hardly noticed. Akihito was just as impatient, if not more so, to have Asami inside again. The fingers pulled out, replaced by Asami’s cock pressing in slowly but steadily until it was seated fully in his body, stretching him nearly to the point of pain. But damn it felt great!

Akihito leaned his forehead against the wall, panting. He really needed to ask Asami to take the chastity device off now… and in that moment, Asami’s phone vibrated. Akihito’s jaw dropped, and he threw a shocked look over his shoulder at the smirking man.

“No! You can’t leave!”

Asami leaned over him, his cock pressed in harder and tore a pleasured groan from Akihito’s throat.

“My dear boy, that was Kirishima giving me the signal that we have exactly seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds before you need to be on stage,” Asami’s deep voice rumbled through his body. He held up his right wrist in Akihito’s line of sight and pressed a button on the obscenely expensive watch, starting a countdown from 7:38.

“Take the rest of your clothes off.”

Takaba blinked at the command, until Asami emphasized with a: “Hurry! We only have seven minutes and twenty-three seconds now.”

With only a little help from Asami, he removed his shirt, kicked off his shoes and got off his pants in record time, and before he was completely naked, Asami’s large hands were snaking around his waist, taking hold of his own cock and unlocking the tiny lock at the top of the chastity device. As soon as it came off the head of his cock, he was hard, harder than he’d been since his early teens and so incredibly sensitive that even the gentle strokes Asami was using had him close to over stimulated.

Asami pulled out of him slowly, timing the strokes of his hand with those of his body, and within two strokes, Akihito threw his head back, crying out, spend spattering across the wall and floor. Almost at the same time, Asami thrust into him, grunting gutturally and filling his smaller lover with warm seed, the predator satisfied for the moment with the marking of its territory. Asami didn’t immediately pull out, though, placing soft kisses and careful nips across Akihito’s shoulders and neck.

When they’d caught their breath, Akihito smiled up at Asami.

“Welcome home. I missed you.”


 

His hiding place gave him the perfect view to record video with his iPhone 4. And record his boss fucking that little prick he was supposed to be guarding he did! That damned trench coat hid a lot of Takaba’s body from the camera phone but there would be no doubts about what they were doing. Gods! The sounds alone were turning him on—and who in their right mind wouldn’t want Asami Ryuuichi to fuck them?—but he wasn’t foolish enough to let his guard down to masturbate while the King of Japan was a mere twelve feet from his hiding spot.

Hell. No. That was the perfect recipe for a bad ‘B’ movie.

And this man didn’t get to the top by being unobservant. So Sato knew he would have to be more observant in this situation if he wanted to come out of it unscathed… and by ‘unscathed’ he meant ‘alive’. Thankfully, Asami was a bit preoccupied at the moment. He nearly freaked out when Asami entered the room after he did, and he remained absolutely quiet, frozen to his spot, until Takaba was unceremoniously tossed in by that idiot Suoh. He’d let out his breath then, no longer terrified Asami would hear that very slight noise.

Sato rolled his eyes at Akihito’s declaration of ‘I missed you’.

Yeah, right kid. You have no idea who he is do you? He’ll use you and throw you away and find someone to replace you within the hour, he thought to himself. It would actually be sad if it weren’t so amusing how smitten Takaba (obviously!) was with their boss.

He winced as he heard wet splatters on the floor and had to control himself to remain silent and hold the camera phone still. Damn, Asami was going to fuck the boy again? Sato’s thought was punctuated by Akihito’s sudden cry at being forcefully penetrated, and he couldn’t help but shift a little. He’d heard Asami was brutal with his lovers, but watching it was… uncomfortable.

Maybe he didn’t want to be fucked by this man. Maybe just a blowjob. Or maybe he could fuck Asami. He caught himself just before he groaned loudly. Yeah. He’d bet that ass was really fucking tight. With tremendous effort, he pulled his focus back into the present. He could use the video when he got home later, but for now, he needed to catch all of it.

Seven minutes passed slowly for Sato, watching the two of them with a substantial hard on. He was grateful when Asami pulled out for the last time. He was about to stop recording when Asami cradled the younger man and took him into the bathing area. It was confusing. Asami had never cared about one of his lovers before, opting to leave immediately when he was finished, leaving them to clean themselves up, and, oddly, both his male and female lovers came crawling back to him for that treatment. But Takaba wasn’t abandoned like the others had been.

Curious.

So he continued to record until Asami and Takaba were in the screen again, and Asami carefully, gently almost, helped Takaba dress, neither speaking. Sato’s lip curled into a wicked sneer. Words weren’t needed.

The King of Japan had fallen.