Author's Note: Greetings and salutations! Feel free to skip to the story if you want, but as this is the first chapter I think I should mention a few things here. For starters, please note that there will most likely be lemons in the future. Probably some violence, too. You have been warned. Not too much happens in this first chapter, just testing the waters, I guess. Things'll pick up in chapters 2 to 3. I'll try to keep everybody in character, but no promises. Expect updates sporadically. I think that's everything...?

+All characters belong to Yamane Ayano because let's be honest I don't have that type of talent/imagination+

Be sure to fav&review! Or don't. No pressure.

Golden light from the evening sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the condo. On the pristine white couch lay a scantily-clad Takaba Akihito, who had flopped there some twenty minutes ago. He had spent the afternoon wandering the spacious condo aimlessly after his lover had left for work for the day. Akihito had dusted the countless artifacts around the apartment, taking special care with Asami's prized antique pistols. He had taken a bath. He'd attempted to teach himself to juggle. He'd dusted again. And yet somehow, all of that effort had only used up about 4 hours. He lay in the living room on his stomach now, face buried into a plush pillow.

"I am so BORED!" he screamed, hoping the pillow muffled the sound enough that the guards stationed outside would not be alerted. The last thing he wanted was a couple of startled men busting in here with guns drawn. Tiredly, he lifted his head to view his custom-made Rolex, a gift from Asami. 'I want this with you at all times,' he had said. "I wish you were with me at all times, asshole," Akihito said to no one in particular. Even on his days off, Asami was taking phone calls every hour or so and arranging people's deaths, or whatever it was crime lords did on their days off. He would never say it, of course, but Akihito sometimes hated having to share Asami's time with the rest of Japan.

When did I start sounding like such a housewife? Akihito shook all remnants of those thoughts from his mind as he stood and made his way to the bedroom. He's
crazy if he thinks I'm going to stay here waiting for him everyday, Akihito thought as he marched to the closet and looked for something to put on.

xxxXXXxxx

I knew he wouldn't stay there long, Asami chuckled to himself. From his office in Sion, he watched as his little lover checked his watch for the twentieth time that day. The security cameras, which he had never really had a need for before Akihito, were proving to be a worthy investment. They provided him with a means to check on Aki regularly, and they gave him his much-needed fix of seeing his young lover. As his kitten walked to the wardrobe in their shared bedroom, Asami decided to give his lover a call.

Akihito was pulling a pair of skinny jeans out of the closet when he heard his phone buzzing on the bed. He placed the pants on the duvet and checked the caller ID. He answered on the third ring. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he greeted, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder. He needed to finish picking out his clothes.

Asami was leaned back in his office chair, savouring the view of his adorable lover's body as he walked around the room on the monitor. "Do I need an excuse to call my boyfriend?" he mused, knowing full well that the title would leave Akihito too flustered to say anything else. He was so easy to read.

The younger man ignored the comment and held out two shirts in front of him, pondering which would look better with the jeans. "I'm busy, so could you cut to the chase?" he asked, a little harsher than intended. Blue or green, blue or green...

"I just called to inform you that I'll be having dinner with a business partner tonight, so you don't have to cook," he glanced at the door, where Kirishima was entering with what appeared to be a stack of financial reports. When he heard silence on the other end of the line, he smirked. "Unless you'd rather I came home? If you miss me, I can arrange—"

"That won't be necessary!" Aki said, his embarrassment clear.

"Well then, I'll be seeing you later tonight," Asami said in his sensual baritone voice. "One last thing before you go, Aki?"

"What is it?"

xxxXXXxxx

Two shirts in hand, he listened to his lover tell him about yet another obligation he had to attend. This would be the third one this week. Asami's absence was getting more noticeable. His spirit deflated a little, but he still resolved to have a good time that night, with or without the Yakuza.

His lover interrupted his thoughts. "Unless you'd rather I came home? If you miss me, I can arrange—"

"That won't be necessary," he said aloud. I'm Takaba Akihito, I will not beg him for attention like some neglected housewife!

With that, Asami ended the conversation. "One last thing before you go, Aki?" he heard from the other end of the line. What could his lover want now? More time away from home, no doubt.

"What is it?" he asked, all the annoyance gone out of his voice. He could never stay mad at the man for long. Who knows, maybe he was going to tell him that he's decided to cancel his business dinner. . . .

"Go with the blue one," Akihito stood still for a second, confused by his lover's words. The blue one?. . . .

He turned around and regarded the camera that sat just above the wardrobe. "Dammit, Asami!" He hurled the blue shirt at the camera where it covered the lens, blocking his lover's prying eyes. Oh yeah, he was going out tonight. No doubt about it.

xxxXXXxxx

Back at Sion, Asami had to hold his ear away from his phone and the loud profanities that streamed from it. After he had finished his tirade, Aki hung up without saying goodbye. Asami was content with the reaction, and even his ever stoic secretary had to crack a smile.

His phone call with his kitten over, he sat down at his large oak desk. He couldn't indulge himself with Akihito any longer, there was work to be done. There had been some problems in his organization recently, and he fully intended to weed them out.