Come Close. (This is Who We Are.)

Formality.

A word most people would associate him with. Swathed in his midnight colored three piece suit, champagne in one hand and Dunhill in another, all he had to do was enter a room and people would come to him.

Which is what was currently happening. The business summit was full of influential persons; people in suits as expensive as his, people with money, people with power – though not as much as his- were all here.

It was the best word to describe occasions such as this. However the only word Asami would use to describe it was irritating. These people who wore suits like armor, acting as if money could protect them, flaunting their corporations and trying to impress him with their business plans. A bullet would be all that was needed to undo everything these people so carelessly wielded because they thought it was their right.

Asami had worked hard for what was his. These people, doused in perfume and glittering in jewels, as if that veneer could hide the disgusting creatures underneath.

The worst part of this all wasn't even the fact that he was here, events like these were something he could deal with. It was the fact that people thought he belonged here too that irked him the most.

Asami Ryuichi; CEO of Sion corporation and multi millionaire, he was obliged to come to these things, forced to put on his mask and waltz around with the skin of cool businessman, aloof and mysterious.

Of course he was a good actor, everyone thought he was charming, everyone wanted more of his cool attitude and calm demeanor. He was different from them all though. Asami knew true importance, knew exactly how easy it was to lose things significant to him, but he also knew how to fight for those things and keep them too. He could appreciate value not in material things, but in small things that were big to him.

Asami himself could admit he didn't belong there. He was tired of this place.

Uncaring of the person who was currently talking to him – Kirishima would note anything important after all- he tabled his champagne and pulled out his phone instead.

He sent a message. And noted with amusement at himself that he was more eager to hear his phone beep in reply than he was to hear the verbal diarrhea spewing from some trade partner's mouth.

Hopefully there would be a reply soon.

Akihito never used to feel this different, but as he sat with his friends, laughing and joking around the table at a local bar. He knew he was.

The photographer supposed he'd grown up. He'd realized that life was unfair, and that's what made it fair. And still he listened to his friends moan about their bosses, or bicker about their wives asking them to be home on time.

Akihito was just grateful his other half came home at all. He was just grateful that he'd complete a job enough to turn photos in and actually speak to his boss, and not die in the process.

He loved his friends, but he no longer found common ground on the small things. He liked his colleagues too, but he no longer found himself aligned with their black and white views on justice.

You know, that uneasy feeling that you get even when you're with a group of friends? Feeling like you're on the outside even though people include you? You could say that's what Akihito felt like at that table.

The people around him who liked to complain about money, about their jobs or the fact their car was due for a service next week wouldn't understand that everything else could change in the blink of an eye. Then that would be the least of their worries.

It wasn't that those things weren't significant to his friends; it was just that Akihito had a completely different set of problems that they'd never understand.

He was different from them now. Sobering though it was to admit.

Akihito still laughed, he still talked, though just not as easy as he used too. There was somewhere else he'd feel much more comfortable.

He got the next round with the little black card in his pocket- he'd been learning to just accept it lately. His phone went off as he put the credit card back in his wallet.

Asami. 8:47pm

These people bore me. I want to go home.

Ah. Akihito knew that feeling all to well. He typed his reply before joining his friends once more.

The minister of finance currently had Asami's attention, talking about more money as usual, more overseas accounts. Business ideas to get more money off him. These people always wanted something.

Of course when his phone went off, he didn't bother excusing himself. He checked it right then and there, and felt his mood lift with each word he read.

Akihito. 9:03pm
I'll make snacks if u bring some movies. See you soon?

'Yeah. See you soon.' He typed out.

"Kirishima. We're leaving, we're going to the DVD store on the way home."

As soon as he was through the threshold of his condo, Asami kicked his loafers off. Next came his suit jacket and vest, then his tie. He undid his top buttons and rolled up his sleeves. That was a little more like it.

Down the hallway and into the lounge he went, to find Akihito already waiting on the couch, in his trademark boxers and hoodie, ready for the night ahead.

"Welcome home!" Akihito chirped, offering a beer in his direction. "Rough night being a crime lord?"

"You have no idea." Asami started as he sat down and put the movies on the coffee table. "Why are you home so early. Rough night being a crime lord's lover?" he picked a few things from the tray of food Akihito had set out, and sat back. At ease.

"You have no idea." Akihito deadpanned back as he looked through the selection. That was it. All the words each other needed to share and to understand.

"Oh, this ones good apparently, let's watch it." Came the suggestion.

"Mm. Alright then."

The movie started as Akihito sat back down to curl up against the side of Asami's chest, his eyes fixed on the screen.

"Comfortable, Akihito?" Asami chuckled as the blonde fidgeted to find the right spot.

He stopped eventually, giving up a sigh as he did so. "Yeah."

"That's good. Me too."