The Fight

PART II

Even though Akihito refused to look at the other man directly, he could still sense the intensity of Kirishima's stern gaze.

"Would you mind stepping out of the elevator, Takaba Akihito?" The older man hissed; his patience clearly exhausted by now.

"…I'm not going back in there." The photographer answered in a low voice, soon hearing Asami's assistant huff in despair.

"What on earth is wrong with you? You're acting like a child!"

Akihito squeezed the strap of his backpack tightly in his hand, but did not refute the accusation. Deep down he knew Kirishima was right…

"I'm not going back to the penthouse." He retorted instead, hoping his voice conveyed a degree of confidence that in fact he was not feeling at the time.

He could clearly hear the disappointment in the other man's voice as the latter spoke again. "After all Asami-sama has done for you… Do you have any idea how much he spent-"

"It's not like I asked him to bail me out of jail!.. I was just fine where I was."

Kirishima couldn't help but snicker at the comment. "Stuck in an overcrowded cell filled with drug dealers and small time criminals? Oh, I'm sure you were having the time of your life!"

The icy stare that Akihito shot him, did not intimidate the man one bit. "I couldn't care less what you want or do not want at this point. You owe Asami-sama an apology, and you know it."

A flashback of the lamp hitting Asami suddenly popped into Akihito's mind; his eyes widening in shock at the memory. "I…I can apologize some other time."

"Except you're going to apologize tonight. Now get out of that elevator, before I drag you out!"

Akihito slowly walked forward, his eyes shooting daggers at the older man. "Stop shouting, will you? Your annoying screeching sounds are going to end up waking the neighbors."

"Why,-you-ungrateful-little-brat."

"That's enough, Kirishima." A familiar voice put a premature end to the argument.…A voice which Akihito knew all too well.

The photographer felt his hand squeezing the backpack strap with such force, his knuckles soon turned white. Why hadn't he sensed the other man's presence sooner?

He hadn't been the only one though.

"Ah, Asami-sama! My apologies. I had not noticed that you were there." The assistant started, as Akihito's eyes darted towards the carpeted floor at his feet, knowing himself to be unable to face the man he had injured.

"I was just about to ring the doorbell again." Kirishima noted as he approached his boss, who was leaning against the front door's frame. For how long, Akihito did not know.

"I was on the phone with Kuroda." The business man explained.

"Ah yes, I see Kuroda-san called you directly then. Good. He was of great assistance to me this evening, I must say. If it hadn't been for Kuroda-san, the issue would have taken a lot longer to get cleared."

Judging by the accusatory tone with which the assistant pronounced 'issue', Akihito figured the word was meant to be taken as a synonym for him.

"Well then sir, if that is all for tonight, I shall be returning home."

"Yes, Kirishima. Sorry for troubling you on your night off." Asami's voice was calm and professional; his tone, the type he used to use whenever he dismissed his employee after the latter had performed a normal work-related task.

For some reason, that ended up infuriating Akihito.

He heard the two men bid goodnight to each other, listened to Kirishima's steps as the assistant walked back to the elevator (not before awarding the photographer with yet another disapproving glare), and watched the display screen count down the floor numbers as the elevator took the man back down to the lobby of the luxury apartment building.

A good three minutes passed without any of the hallway's remaining occupants saying a word.

"Are you planning to just stand there all night?"

Odd! Akihito had expected Asami to sound angry at him, but instead the older man just sounded tired…very much so.

"I…I have to go." The younger man started, still not looking at the older one. "I'm crashing at a friend's place tonight. He's waiting for me."

"At 4 a.m.?"

"Y-Yeah. I asked Kirishima-san to drop me off at my friend's place directly, but… he wouldn't listen to me..."

Akihito had half-expected Asami to turn all possessive over him like last time, and prevent him from going anywhere but his bed that night, but instead he heard the business man say:

"Do you have any extra clothes with you?"

The younger man shook his head, mildly surprised at Asami's subdued reaction to his reappearance.

He heard the front door creak further open, the light from the penthouse's inner hallway casting shadows at his feet, and quickly realized the business man was making room for him to pass through the doorway.

"You should grab some clean clothes from your bedroom then. You look like you haven't changed in days."

About 85% of Akihito's brain was screaming at him to turn round, call the elevator back up and get the hell out of that place for good.

The other 15% though, as usual, ended up winning.

Akihito found himself dragging his feet towards the source of the bright light, his eyes slowly looking upwards as he finally mustered up the courage to glance at Asami's face.

A gasp died somewhere between his throat and his mouth, the second the photographer spotted the white bandage on the man's forehead.

He was pretty sure the older man didn't hear anything, but something in his expression ended up giving Akihito away, because Asami quickly narrowed his eyes at the photographer inquisitively.

Akihito protected himself from the stare by averting his own eyes from Asami's face, aware his heart had started beating wildly inside his chest.

He felt like kicking himself. Well, what was he expecting to find exactly? He'd seen the lamp hit Asami straight on, hadn't he? The blood from the man's forehead cut sprinkling the comforter on his bed. Asami wasn't made out of steal. He was bound to be left with a nasty reminder of that dreadful night…

The problem was that Akihito had panicked. And in his panic he'd done the only thing that could have saved his guilty mind at the time…He'd run away.

He'd run until he could no longer feel his knees. He'd run until his lungs stung and his muscles ached. He'd run away as far as he could from the apartment and their stupid, meaningless fight.

The photographer heard the soft click of the front door being shut behind him, the scent of Asami's expensive cologne suddenly reaching his nose.

God, he'd missed that scent.

Akihito closed his eyes for a brief moment, silently taking it in. He could sense the older man standing behind him, no doubt surveying the damage his recent brawl with the two drunkards had left him with, and oddly found himself craving the older man's touch.

Who was he kidding? Akihito wanted so bad to put that awful night behind them, he wanted so bad to feel Asami's skin against his own again, that the young man was ready to beg for forgiveness, were it not for his stupid pride getting in the way.

Why was being in love so damn hard at times?

The lightest of touches on his neck pulled him back from his musings. The surprise of it alone, causing him to jerk away from Asami's reach, even though such was not his intention.

Akihito felt his back hit the wall behind him, and judged correctly by looking at the older man's expression that the latter had assumed he was refuting him.

He quickly opened his mouth, intent on dispelling the misunderstanding, but Asami spoke up first.

"The bandage around your neck is coming off." He said, justifying the momentary contact. "You should change it…You know where the first aid kit is, right?"

His voice had regained its detached, professional tone, making Akihito frown despite himself.

"Feel free to take a shower too." Asami added, beginning to walk down the hallway towards his bedroom. "The heather's still on in the bathroom."

"I'll pay you back." The young man said frostily, making Asami stop to look back at him; a hint of confusion visible on his features.

"Pay me back what?"

"The bail money… And whatever it was you paid to the cops to delete my criminal record. I'll pay you back. Every penny."

Akihito wasn't sure if Asami snickered or chuckled at his words.

"I don't see how."

The photographer's lips morphed into a thin line. "…How much was it exactly?"

Asami resumed his walk towards his bedroom. "Six million yen." He said casually, leaving a stunned Akihito alone in the hallway.

The young man surveyed the pile of clothes he'd stacked on his bed. He wasn't sure how much he should take with him. His living arrangements with Kou were only temporary after all. He'd need to find a place of his own pretty soon.

The photographer felt a pang in his stomach at the thought. Was he really going to go through with this? Was he really going to leave the penthouse for good this time?

Asami sure didn't seem like he was keen on stopping him, that's for sure. Deep down Akihito assumed that that was because the business man still viewed his previous 'indiscretion' with Sakazaki as nothing short of a betrayal, and everyone who knew Asami was painfully aware the man did not take to betrayals lightly.

He looked around the bedroom trying to commit it to memory. Akihito was going to miss the place. He'd lived in the penthouse for less than a year, but even in that short period of time he had come to view it as his 'home'.

For now the young man was only taking his cameras and a few clothing items away with him, but he would need to come back at some point to get the rest of his stuff. Preferably during daytime, when Asami was not around.

Sighing, he dropped the bath towel wrapped around his hips and slowly started to dress. He opted for a simple pair of jeans and a tank top. The night was warm outside and he wanted to feel its breeze against his skin. Being cooped up in a poor ventilated prison cell for 48 hours had made him crave clean, fresh air.

After he was done dressing, he stuffed the extra clothes and his cameras into a gym bag and decided not to linger around any longer, lest his resolve to leave the place would abandon him.

Outside, the hallway was unlit and dead silent.

Unable to stop himself, Akihito let his eyes travel towards Asami's master suite door, noticing that no light shined below it.

"He's probably gone to sleep already." The young man thought.

When he found his feet moving towards the mentioned door, he told himself he was only going to check for proof that he was right. He told himself the same lie when he leaned his ear against the door hearing nothing on the other side, and again when his hand found the doorknob and turned it, pushing it open.

His feet made no sound as he walked along the carpeted floor. All the lights inside the master suite were off, but thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed one of the walls, the room was far from immersed in darkness. Tokyo's night lights illuminated the king size bed and its only occupant perfectly.

Akihito stopped short of one side of the bed, finding Asami Ryuichi in the exact same position he'd anticipated finding the man: sleeping peacefully, one arm loosely wrapped around a pillow, his usually neat styled hair fanned across the one where his head laid resting; his features perfectly relaxed, as if the older man did not harbor a single bother in the world.

Certainly as if he did not care he was about to lose his lover of two years.

Akihito found himself biting his lower lip. "You really don't care, do you?" He whispered.

As if knowing he was being spoken to, Asami moved in his sleep, turning in such a way that he now laid on his back, his hair falling to the side, exposing the white bandage above his eye.

Akihito couldn't help but wince at the result of his thoughtless action. A few inches below, and the lamp could have blinded Asami.

Did the wound hurt? The photographer heard the soft thump of the gym bag as it dropped to the floor at his feet, and saw his hand travel forward, reaching for the other man's forehead.

The moment his fingers brushed the bandage, Asami jerked awake.

Surprised eyes looked into embarrassed ones.

"Huh…I…," Akihito started, trying to sound casual, and failing spectacularly at it. "I-I…I just came to tell you I'm leaving."

He watched as Asami sat up in bed rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands; annoyingly realizing the man's fit torso was bare and that his body was threatening to react to it.

Akihito quickly picked up his gym bag, wishing a hole would somehow open on the floor so he could dive head on into it and hide himself from view. "…I'll come back sometime this week to get the rest of my stuff."

When the other man didn't say anything in return, just sat there staring at Akihito with a blank expression on his face; an arm loosely resting over his bent knee, things started to get awkward.

"O-Ok. I guess this is goodbye then." Akihito said, turning his back on the older man.

For some reason though, his feet wouldn't move. "For the record," He suddenly said; his voice low. "I wasn't aiming at you when I threw the lamp."

Behind him, he heard Asami snicker. "Well, I hate to think what state I'd be in if you were."

The icy tone perceivable in the business man's voice instantly angered Akihito. "See you around." He spat back, but before he managed to complete one step, he felt Asami grip his wrist and yank him back so hard, the photographer lost his balance and fell straight on top of the mattress.

Before he knew it, he was pinned below the other man, who held his wrists high above his head with one strong hand.

Still, Akihito tried to fight Asami's iron grip. "Let-Me-Go." He hissed.

Asami remained silent, replying to Akihito's demand only by means of the intensity of his hard stare.

"If you want to hit me, fine! Go ahead. Hit me all you want… But just so you know, I would have done it all over again."

Akihito said the words wishing to hurt the other man, but regretted saying them the second Asami's expression changed. The man suddenly looked at the photographer as if he didn't know him anymore.

Akihito stopped fighting, his body relaxing against the mattress. He had a feeling he was about to start crying. "A-Asami…I didn't mean to…".

The older man released his wrists, sitting back up in bed while putting some distance between them.

Akihito remained lying down, his eyelids closing for a few moments. "…I thought I was helping you out."

The excuse sounded lame even to him.

"I don't see how whoring yourself would help me out in any way."

The young man tried to ignore the pain the accusation brought him. "You needed the information. Sakazaki-san h-"

"Don't say that bastard's name near me!" Asami spat angrily, silencing the other man for a few moments.

The silence dragged on until Akihito eventually heard the sound of the bedside table's drawer opening and closing, followed by the click of a lighter. Soon enough the scent of Dunhill cigarettes reached his nose.

"…Were you planning on ever telling me what you did? Or were you hoping I'd never find the recording you did of that night?" Asami's voice still sounded upset, but at least it seemed to have lost some of its earlier edge.

Akihito decided to answer truthfully. "I don't know."

He heard Asami snicker again. "I knew something was off with you. You had been acting odd for a while, crawling into my bed most nights, but I figured you were still in shock because of the ordeal with Sudou… " Another snicker. "Turns out you were doing it out of guilt... I never thought you of all people would betr-"

Akihito was sitting up the next second, even though he positioned himself so his back was facing Asami, his legs dangling off the side of the king size bed; his shoulders hunched down in defeat.

"It wasn't betrayal, Asami. You can hate me all you want, but don't say I betrayed you. I could never do that to you. I…I…"

"I'm in love with you." Is what Akihito wanted to add, but couldn't find the courage to.

As the silence dragged on again between them, the young man reached out for his gym bag and stood up, securing its strap over his shoulder. "I should get going." He said, more to try to fuel his own resolve then to communicate the actual decision.

He did not dare glance back at Asami, who remained sitting in bed smoking in silence, and so all but forced his feet to move back outside the hallway, shutting the door of the master suite behind him with a soft click.

He managed to get to the end of the corridor before his knees lost their strength, forcing him to steady himself against a wall.

His vision was blurred by silent tears, but as much as he tried to wipe them with his hands, they kept on coming. At some point he figured his distress was causing him to hear things, because he could have sworn he'd heard several thumping sounds approaching him from behind.

Only when he felt a pair of arms circling his waist, pulling his back against a strong torso did he realize that what he had heard in fact had been hurried footsteps.

"Asami…" He said, a sob threatening to escape his lips. "I don't want to leave you. Don't make me leave."

He did not care if he sounded pathetic or needy. He did not care if his words sounded desperate. Right then and there he just wanted to be held by the man he loved and forget all about Sakazaki, information, prison cells and the whole damn world.

He felt Asami's face bury itself in his hair. "I don't want you to leave me either."

The words sounded magical to the photographer, who turned round half-doubting his ears.

As if to prove their veracity, Asami captured the young man's lips with his own, sealing his words with a kiss.

Akihito tasted the salt from his own tears, mixed in with Asami's expensive Tabaco. When they at last parted, gasping for air, both their lips were slightly swollen and their cheeks featured a tint of red.

"I'm sorry…" Akihito whispered. "I'll never do it again. I…I…"

"Say it, damn it. Say it. For once, tell him how you feel!" His mind screamed at him.

Asami's thumb gently caressed Akihito's bottom lip. "I know." He whispered back. "…I know." He said unexpectedly, before leaning down to kiss Akihito once again.

The photographer pressed his body against the other man's, dreading the notion that he might only be dreaming that moment, but soon was reassured of its reality when, without breaking the kiss, Asami lifted him off the floor and carried him back to the master suite, where they spent the next couple of hours appeasing the need they felt for each other's bodies.

(later, at dawn)

"I think your friend Kuroda-san is pissed off at me." Akihito said suddenly, cutting through the silence that had fallen in the bedroom.

Half his torso was propped up against Asami's; the latter's left arm and hand resting over the young man's stomach.

Akihito felt tired and drained and his lower back was starting to give off that familiar stinging sensation that indicated he was going to have trouble walking around during the day.

Not that it mattered much to the young man at this point. He could happily set up camp in Asami's bed for the rest of his life, never needing to walk again.

"Why do you say that?" The older man's voice sounded groggy when he replied, as if he was about to drift off to sleep.

"Well,…Kuroda-san kept shooting daggers at me with his eyes when we were down at the police station."

He felt more than heard Asami's chuckle. "Don't mind Kuroda... He was pretty pissed off at me too yesterday evening."

Akihito frowned at the revelation. "Why was that?" He asked, hearing the older man sigh tiredly.

"He told me he thinks you have too much of a hold over me." Asami answered, peeking at Akihito through half-open eyelids, just in time to see the young man grimace.

"And why would he think something like that?"

Akihito felt Asami's free hand come up to ruffle his hair. "The fact that I keep bailing you out of trouble no matter the cost might have something to do with it…Kuroda seems to think you're a professional troublemaker and that we have nothing in common whatsoever."

"Oh…I see…"

"…He also asked me if the reason I keep you around is because I'm in love with you."

Akihito's breath got caught in his throat at the comment; his eyes widening in surprise. He turned his head sideways looking up towards Asami's face, noticing how calm the other man looked with his eyes closed again.

"Huh…And…what…what was your answer?" He felt his heart racing inside his chest.

"…I told him he was right. I am in love with you."

It was the sound of Akihito's gasp that made the business man open his eyes. When he did, he found that Akihito had sat up in bed and was staring down at him dumbfounded.

Asami had half a mind to laugh at the younger man's shocked expression. "Are you that surprised?"

"Huh…No, I guess." Akihito started, clearly embarrassed, as he massaged the back of his neck. "I mean, I'd hoped you were…I just never thought I'd hear you… say it…out loud."

The other man arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you by any chance think I'd be scared of saying 'I'm in love with you' or something?"

Akihito had a feeling his cheeks were growing redder by the second. "N-No… I mean, it's just that…"

"What?"

"It's just that… it's embarrassing to say it out loud, that's all."

The young man said so with such a sheepish tone that Asami could not help but chuckle in amusement at his sudden distress.

"You can't bring yourself to say the words out loud, can you?" He asked, a definite challenge hidden in his question.

"Of course I can." Akihito quickly retorted, despite Asami's more than obvious skeptic stare.

"I-I'll prove it to you." The young man said, clearing his throat. "I…I… I mean, I…"

"Yes?"

His face felt like it was struck by a massive sunburn. "I'm… going to go sleep in my bedroom. See you at breakfast!" Akihito said, making a move to get out of bed and away from the fool he'd just made out of himself, but soon felt Asami pulling him back down on the mattress.

"Oh, no you don't." The older man retorted, a devilish grin suddenly framing his lips. "I'll make you say it, even if I have to make you moan it out." He added, watching Akihito gulp in sudden panic.

And true to his nature, Asami Ryuichi owned up to his words.

The End