Summary: Asami suspects that Akihito is betraying him after Kuroda sports the boy with a dangerous enemy. As usual, Asami investigates, and finds that the relationship between the photographer and detective is deeper than he thought.

Disclaimer: I do not own the VF.

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Their idle banter was incredibly casual. The detective spoke and waved his hands around in the air, as if he was recalling some distant memory. His motions were large and energetic, and reeked with an aged sense of happiness, and joy.

Takaba stood on the receiving end of such wonderful emotions. At the movement of the man's hands, the photographer would giggle, and when the detective decided to grow slightly more animated in whatever he was interpreting, Takaba would double over in a fit of laughter.

The man was an older gentleman, though time had maintained his youthful appearance. His hair was a dark red, nearly crimson. Though at the sun's light, a bright orange sheen reflected off of his head.

He wore a small pair of glasses on his face, and traditional of an investigator, he adorned a large, black trench coat.

Asami had heard of this man before, but unfortunately, the information had been incredibly scarce, and unreliable.

Not until now, however. Kuroda had been keeping an eye on Akihito for Asami, and had reported some very chilling findings the the Crime Lord.

Akihito had been mingling with a very, very renowned detective who went by the alias Mr. T. Not only that, but they seemed incredibly comfortable with one another, as if they had been communicating for a long time.

Betrayal was the first thought that crossed Asami's mind. Why else would he be conversing with a detective, and keeping it from Asami? If not direct betrayal, perhaps he was working to bring down another organization, or bring someone out of the dark and into the light?

Asami looked on at the intimate scene from seat in the car. They had parked someway away from the New's Weekly building, and had watched as Takaba mingled with the eccentric red head.

The occasional brushes and touches had irritated Asami greatly. Asami owned Akihito, the boy was his pet. Therefore, the act of anyone touching the photographer other than Asami himself appalled the man incredibly. Takaba would no doubt be punished for his actions later.

The detective needed to go.

Asami sighed, and leaned back on his cushioned seat. Making a move now, in public, would not be a wise choice. Not to mention, he wasn't entirely sure what this man's presence meant to, or for the photographer.

He would deal with this slow, and sophisti-

Asami nearly choked on the cigarette that rested between his lips, but bit it hard enough to pierce through paper.

The idiot detective had just crossed the line.

Outside, the red head had secured his arms around the photographer, and hugged him as tight as possible. After that, he pushed him back slightly, and smiled. Nostalgia flashed through his features, and suddenly, the crimson headed, Asian man looked older than before.

Takaba looked up at him.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, the larger man loomed over Akihito, and placed a chaste kiss a top of the head. Even from his seat in the car, Asami could see the younger man blush with embarrassment, and attempt to push the red head away.

They laughed for a few more seconds, though Takaba's pale face was flushed with a blush that he attempted to hide by bringing a hand to his mouth.

The ginger ruffled the boy's hair, waved a sad wave, and began to make his leave. Takaba did the same, and stood alone in front of his work place, as the detective disappeared into the small crowd of people.

Upon hid departure, the photographer's shoulders slumped, and his head dropped low, so that his chin was touching his chest.

Asami noted the change in attitude, though his anger for the photographer did not diminish in the slightest.

He wanted answers.

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Asami was waiting for him.

It was already eleven at night, and the brat hadn't even bothered to call, or tell Asami he was going to be out late. Had he not decided to honor the Crime Lord with his presence five hours after he was supposed to arrive home, Asami would have assumed that he had taken refuge at a friends house.

Before the door clicked open, Asami wondered of Akihito knew that he had been caught exchanging information with a private detective.

But the second the younger man removed his shoes from his feet, placed them onto the mat, and stepped into the luxurious penthouse, the assumptions had been dismissed. However, Asami's anger had not been.

Takaba looked exhausted, and completely drained of energy. He just wanted to sleep, but Asami had other plans.

"Nice of you to come and join me." Began the older man smugly, as he stood up from the chair in the kitchen, "Did you have fun tonight."

In the process, he had inconveniently blocked Takaba's walking path.

"Asami, not now, I'm tired," yawned the younger man, "we can talk tomorrow." Akihito rubbed his sleepy eyes with his curled hand, and made to bypass the older man who was so determined to deprive the photographer of sleep.

His body collided with Asami's muscular chest. The mafia boss wasn't budging.

"Dammit Asami? What's your problem, I'm tired! Just let me sleep for at least ten minutes, before decide to jump me-"
"Me? Jump you?" Mocked the Crime Lord sarcastically, as he stepped aside for Takaba, "Exactly how long is the line?"

For his own sake, Akihito didn't hear the demoralizing taunt, as he was too concerned about falling asleep. But Asami wasn't through.

"Akihito," spoke Asami, as he made to catch up with the younger man. Takaba grunted, and continued his stride to the bed room. Opening the large doors, he plopped down on the bed, and smiled as his body came into contact with the soft surface. It was like heaven.

"Akihito." Asami was above him, and his voice was filled with a heavy depth, and a tight seriousness. He glared daggers at Takaba.

The younger man, who had fallen face first on the bed, turned his head, so that at least on eye could take in Asami's pissed off posture.

"What?"

Without warning, Asami descended upon the younger man, and flipped him on his back. Takaba attempted to push him off, like he always did. But the Asami's skilled hands had crawled under the fabric of Akihito's shirt, and tickled against his newly exposed skin. His fingers crawled up the photographer's stomach. Takabas heart beat increased, and his breathing grew erratic,as Asami's fingers made their way to his erect nipple.

Cool air contrasted with the warmth of Asami's body, and suddenly, Takaba found himself craving more. But he was stubborn

"A..sami...Stop it already...I want to sleep..."
Asami chuckled a dark chuckle, and leaned in to kiss the beauty underneath him. Takaba wasted no time in allowing the older man entrance into his mouth, and nearly melted as Crime Lord worked wonders with his wet tongue.

By the time Asami pulled away, he was struggling to breath.

"Did you want to sleep," whispered Asami, as he placed his lips directly near Takaba's ear, "when that red head kissed you?"

The adrenaline screwed with Takaba's memory, he was having trouble recalling the day's events.

"Red head?"

Asami snorted, and pushed off of the bed, once again, standing at his full height.

"Yes. The rd head, the detective that just couldn't keep his hands off of you, ring a bell?"

Takaba's eyes opened, and from is flustered state, he stared at Asami, "H...how did you know-"

"Kuroda supplied me with the information. At first, I didn't believe that you would actually converse with a detective, given your living circumstances. A well known one at that. But I was wrong-"

"Asami, wait, I can-"

"I've had to cover for your mistakes many times, Akihito. Had any of my enemies spotted you before I had, they would have gotten suspicious. Whenever a photographer so clueless delves into matters of the Underworld, like you yourself have done numerous times, they end up being taken, or worse, killed. Do you have no qualms for your-"
"Listen Asami!" The photographer was sitting up now, trying to reason with the older man, who obviously did not like being kept in the dark. But Asami wasn't giving Takaba a chance to speak, and instead, fancied guilt tripping him with unreliable evidence.

It was pissing Takaba off.

"-actions. With the things you do, I wonder if you want to get captured. You're becoming more of a liability. Perhaps you and that idiot detective could have discussed this when you decided-"

Midway of Asami's bantering, Takaba had gotten up, gone to his things, and retrieved a pamphlet of papers.

Asami looked at him with a narrowed gaze.

"Have you been listening to anything I said?"

Takaba was seething now, and his grip on the papers was so tight, that his hands turned a pale shade of blue.

"Hell yeah i've been listening," and with that, he hurled the bunch of papers to the bed, and seconds later, pulled his jacket tighter around his body.

Asami looked at the photographer, than back at the papers.

"Read them," he spat, "but I won't be here when you do." And though Asami wanted to stop the photographer from leaving, these papers had greatly peaked his interest.

"Oh, and two more things, if I'm such a "liability", then why haven't you kicked me out yet? That's all on you, bastard!" Shouted the photographer, as he walked out of the room, "and lastly," he shouted again.

At the same time, Asami picked up the pamphlet. The cover page was filled with letters, and jumbled words. Asami didn't care to read the at all. In fact, the papers were alien to him. But the familiar name caught his attention.

Name: Frost, Steiner. Akihito.

Age: 3

Birth date: May 5, 1982

Biological Parents:

Father- Dietrich Frost (Deceased)

Mother- Yuri Tanaka (Deceased)

He flipped the page, and his blood froze. There was a picture of Akihito, a very young Akihito, standing incredibly close to the arrogant red head. He grabbed on to the older man's pant leg, and pressed his face against the fabric. It was labeled, "Akihito's first day with his new Parents".

Behind them, stood a woman with caramel skin, and long curly hair.

She was trying to teach him how to hula.

Above her head, was the word "Mama" Above his was "Papa"

"Don't insult my dad again! Oh wait," Takaba peaked his head back into the room, and smile a crazy, elongated smirk, "since I'm so much of a liability, I'll just come pick my stuff up tomorrow, and move in with that idiot red head. It should make your life sooo much easier."

In Asami's momentary shock, the photographer took his opportunity, and exited the Penthouse with his head held high, and an attitude that would injure the pride of even the strongest of men.

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Hope you enjoyed it! It's not a oneshot, it's actually apart of a series where Asami meets/finds out about the rest of Takaba's quirky family. I know this isn't canon, but I wanted to do something different. Hope you liked it, constructive criticism is welcomed! Have a wonderful week, good luck on your finals, and God bless!