"… three bruised rips, several non-threatening hematomas and a gunshot wound. We also expect him to develop a serious cold due to the extended exposure to cold water and the fact that he is underweight by at least ten pounds…"
He tried to blend out the voice from the doctor and stared through the glass at the slender figure on the gurney in the adjoining examination room.
"… 14 stitches, and right now his condition is stable. He is running a fever but that was expected as well…"
Abso-fucking-lutely great! After all this time he finally had him back and now this. Yes, there was a God and He must hate him. He was sure about it now. Seeing his brat like this was pure torture. His body covered in bruises – an untold story of the fight he had put up, pale skin that only now started to get a slight pinkish tint again – an improvement to the sickly blue that it was before, his hair damp against his head – lifeless and matt, unmoving like the rest of him.
"… we will now transfer him to the private room and as you requested he will be monitored, but we really don't expect any complications…"
Without saying a word he abruptly turned, following the gurney to the room he had specifically requested for Akihito. His bodyguards fell into step right behind him forming a rather unusual procession. Watching the two nurses accompanying Akihito carefully transfer him onto the hospital almost made him give in to the anger and frustration boiling inside of him.
"… this is only a precaution to make sure he won't accidently injure himself. You may be assured though that as soon as it is safe he will be able to rest in more comfortable position…"
He forced himself to stay calm, unmoving and it took every ounce of his will-power to not kill everyone who touched his boy while he was forced to keep his hands to himself. Clenching and unclenching his hands in his coat pockets he made himself take several deep breaths. Finally he turned to the doctor, his trademark poker-face back in place:
"Thank you, Dr. Yamaguchi. I appreciate your coming here on such a short notice to take care of Akihito."
"This is the least I can do, Asami-sama. Your boy is still under sedation and due to the fever he will probably be more or less unaware of his surroundings for the next couple of days, but by the end of the week the worst should be over."
A curt nod was all he was able to do. He was afraid of moving lest he would do something he would regret later. His pet was hurt and there was just no way he could… no! He had to stop thinking about what he wanted to do to him – no, needed to do to him. How he would run his hands over his body, reacquainting himself with every inch of his delectable skin, how he would use his tongue to tease him
into the frenzy of moans he usually elicited from him, how he would make him plead and beg for more only to deny him over and over again…
Sweat started to form on his forehead and he instinctively suppressed the urge to wipe it. Never show weakness! He turned back to look once more at his pet… big mistake. He almost lost it right there. The nurses had Akihito propped up on a special pillow to keep the pressure off his wound and being forced to look at him like this was physical pain. He had to get out of there. Now. Before he did the unthinkable.
"Akira. You will stay with him and keep me informed. I have to take care of a couple of small matters and will be back later."
He forced himself to turn away from the bed and walked towards the door. He needed a cigarette and a drink. Maybe more than a drink.
Akira nodded and took up a position in the corner of the room that allowed him to remain out of sight of whoever entered, yet see everyone before they saw him. He watched as Asami and Keita left the room and sighed in frustration. He knew what they were about to do and he desperately wanted to be part of it. As much as he got to like the photographer over time, babysitting wasn't really in his job-description. He sat down on the chair, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at the still form of the boy on the bed and even though he felt sorry for what the kid had to go through; he nevertheless felt a smile forming on his face: of all the places to get shot…
Part 2"Asami speaking."
The hand that was holding the cell-phone was still slightly shaking even though he had drunk – no, make that downed – two glasses of his favorite whiskey. He took another deep drag of the cigarette he was holding in his other hand. He needed to calm himself down. Now. It just wouldn't do to give in to his emotions; after all he had a reputation to uphold.
"You fucking bastard! The moment I see you I'll fucking kill you…"
"Tstststs… Temper, Feilong, temper…" He gripped the phone tighter. Although they had come to an understanding, he couldn't just simply forget what the head of the Baishe had done to his boy.
"We had a deal. We.Had.A.Fucking.Deal!"
"Yeah, we had a deal. Until you shot Akihito." His indifferent voice seemed to infuriate the Chinese on the other end of the line even more.
"I didn't shoot him. He jumped right into the bullet. Wan didn't aim at him."
"I know, but he aimed at me."
"That's because you were standing right behind that bastard. Wan shot at him - not you. So, now give him over as promised."
"I'm sorry, Feilong, but right now I have more important matters to attend to. I'll get in touch as soon as I can make time for the exchange."
Click. He hung up. That immediately made him feel a bit better and it had taken his thoughts of his pet for just a few moments. Akihito. He groaned, this time unable to keep it down. He pressed his forehead against the cold window of the car, closing his eyes. How could he do this to me? He had waited weeks for the right opportunity to extract him from Feilong, spent the time he was forced to recuperate on thinking up countless scenarios for his boy and now? At least another three weeks before Akihito would be up to any 'strenuous' behavior, provided that his condition didn't get worse. Yeah, God really hates me…
He groaned again, leaning back against the soft leather of the car-seat. Just remembering what he had come up with during those seemingly never-ending days he had to spend in a hospital-bed made him hard. Again. And again he would deny himself as he had since the day Feilong had taken Akihito from him. Damn you, brat. You better hurry up and get well before I explode.
He felt Keita's eyes on him through the rearview mirror. He almost felt sorry for him. He knew that since the 'incident' he had become even more bad-tempered and everybody, including his bodyguards, was pussyfooting around him, carefully making sure not to do anything that could raise his ire.
"To the warehouse." There was at least one way he could work off some of the tension that had accumulated over the last few weeks.
Pouring himself another glass of whiskey, he recalled the rather surprising turn of events on board of the ship. The exact moment he had Feilong at gunpoint and the Chinese dragon had yet managed again to amaze him.
Flashback:
"Keep moving forward and don't turn around. If you make one sound I'll blow a hole right through your head!" As far as threats went, he had thought this one was a fairly easy one to understand.
"Oh, and don't even think about screaming for help like the little girl you are, nobody will come." Asami forced him to a vacant room with a certainty that made Feilong realize that Asami had somehow gotten hold of the ship's layout. He definitely had to look into that later. If there was a later…
"How dare you make a mockery of
me? You'll pay dearly for this". He pushed the Chinese Triad
Leader down on a table with so much force that the breath left the
slender man with a whoosh, cutting off the snide come-back "...and
you've come all this way. Things have really come around to 'bite you
in the ass', Asami...!"
"I want my boy back."
Distracting the older man with snide remarks that cut too close to the truth, finally gave him the chance he was looking for. Slamming his hand down on Asami's wounded leg he managed to get out from under the Yakuza and dodging the bullets fired at him, he found cover behind a wall.
"You should have taken more time to heal, old man. As you remember I know exactly how long it takes for a bullet wound to heal… You know, you almost make me believe that Akihito really means something to you. Look at you, coming here for the boy, offering me billions in exchange for… what? A brat?"
"Leave Akihito out of this, he was merely the tool you used to get me to come and finally put an end to the mess you created seven years ago, Feilong. So, where is he?"
"You're too late, Asami… Again. Someone has taken him from you. Again. You should really watch your property better. Getting sloppy with old age?"
The only response was another spray of bullets hitting the wall.
"You never planned on giving me back what's mine, right? You bastard thought you'll get away with my casino and the boy? What was the plan? Getting the boy and then shoot me like you did seven years ago? I'll never give over, so go ahead and shoot me."
"If that's what it takes to protect my property and to stop you incessant whining about what your father did…? I'm sick of being blamed for everything that didn't go right in your sorry life."
"You created 'my sorry life' when you teamed up with Tou to destroy Baishe. Making him claim me as his son to destroy everything I lived for. You just didn't realize that having pity on me and not letting me die would result in this, did you...?"
A dry laugh followed his
outburst. "You never thought that I would one day really be the
leader of Baishe, so why aren't you happy that things went exactly
as you had planned back then...?" The only response he got
was a noise off to the side, which caused Feilong to spin around,
point his gun and shoot - only to realize too late that Asami had
slipped behind him.
It didn't take Asami long to disarm Feilong and bring him down once more.
"So...you wanted me to acknowledge you that much?"
Glaring down on the younger man, Asami continued to taunt the trapped man
"The father that should've acknowledged you is no longer alive... and to think that you have come this far just for the sake of some pitiful revenge... I really feel sorry for what has become of the once mighty Baishe."
With the gun grinding into the back of his head Feilong was forced to listen.
"In truth... you don't really care about the past, do you? Don't make me any angrier..." Sliding the gunpoint further down, Asami slowly continued:
"I know exactly how to
silence men like you... ...but I won't... just like I didn't seven
years ago... You look after your own hide. I'm not your father." By
now boiling in anger, Feilong fought against the larger man, managed
to roll over and successfully pinned Asami down.
"You have no use for people unless they either bring you financial wealth or sexual pleasure. Why didn't you just let me die back then? Was it only so you can insult me like this...? Will you insult even the years I've lived hating you..?!"
"I didn't want to let you die." Words, almost inaudible muttered while grey eyes clashed with golden ones. "Do you not understand something simple as that?" Asami continued "It is up to you if you want to dwell in the past and be consumed by hate, but unlike you I don't live denying my true self. If you want to kill me so much, go ahead. Here is your chance. But you will never be satisfied with that. You'll never get the thing you want most…"
"Don't talk like you know anything about me..." and surprisingly the slender Chinese pulled Asami into a searing kiss.
"The past has nothing to do with this. I just wanted to get you… and you will not kill me." It wasn't a question, just a fact simply stated.
"And that would be… why, again?" The gun still aimed at him never wavered.
"Because I know that Yanzhui killed my father and you killed Tou for shooting me."
"That's old news from a long ago past. The present is the only thing that counts. And for whatever reason I let you live in the past, your transgressions of the present give me enough reasons to kill you."
"This was all engineered by Arbatov to get the deed."
"Don't be so bashful Feilong. It is okay to talk about your involvement with him; Arbatov would really be hurt if he could hear you now. After all, he even went through the trouble of paying you a visit when you got injured. Did he at least bring you flowers to your sickbed?"
"He tried to convince me that you wanted all of Baishe. I didn't believe him."
"I don't care. Akihito…"
"I know. I couldn't help but take him. I won't apologize." Eyelids slowly lowered over grey orbs. "He had what I thought I wanted, yet… I realize now… it wasn't what I wanted. I won't apologize."
The tall Chinese took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and locked grey with golden eyes.
"Do what you think you need to do but do it fast. Arbatov will kill him because I had him."
Another deep breath.
"And I promised Akihito to send him home to you… So, are you coming or not?"
Together the unlikely couple made their way to one of the lower decks to intercept the Russian's men trying to board a small ship. Their men were there as well, unsure of what to make of the situation.
"Get Arbatov! Now!" Feilong yelled as he was running towards the docking bay, Asami following at a slower pace with a slight limp.
"Watch out for Takaba." He instructed his men, and in the following melee it was hard to tell who was going up against whom. The Yakuza managed to corner Arbatov who was trying to shoot his way out which resulted in the fateful shot that hit Akihito. The young photographer was cowering against the wall trying to stay out of the fight when he saw a gun aimed at Asami and had then reacted without a thought, jumping in front of the Yakuza, intercepting the bullet he thought was meant for the Japanese. And got shot. And fell over the rail into the ocean. Stupid brat.
End Flashback.
The car pulled up in front of the warehouse.
Finally…
Part 3"... You. Do. Not. Ever. Touch. What's. Mine."
Slam! The tall Blonde was roughly shoved into the wall again.
"Never. Touch. My. Boy. Again." Each word accentuated with the powerful punch of a fist. It felt good.
With a satisfied smirk on his face, Asami finally let go of the Russian Mobster.
"So, would you now care to enlighten me what all of this is about? Or do you need more incentives to cooperate?" Another kick to the torso. He really hoped he broke at least some of his ribs.
Mikhail Arbatov presented a rather pitiful picture, crouched on the floor; trying to protect himself from more injuries than those Asami had already chosen to inflict on him. He was panting for breath, his arms clutched around his middle, indicating that Asami indeed had gotten a full hit on his rib-cage.
For the first time in weeks, Asami almost felt pleased with himself. He had worked off some of his anger, reached some understanding with the Chinese Ice-Princess and Akihito was back where he belonged. And was shot. And of all places he had to get shot there. Stupid brat. At least he would be able to make Feilong suffer the same way he was.
He groaned in frustration and returned his attention to the man on the floor.
"So, anything you wanted to tell me?"
"If… If you kill me there will be a war…" Arbatov managed out in a raspy voice. He really didn't sound too good.
"Oh, I am not the one who will kill you. I'll leave that particular pleasure to others. Until then - you may be assured of that - I will take exceptionally good care of you."
"You never intended to give the deed to Feilong." The Russian slowly pulled himself up in a sitting position. Blood was running down his face and his left eye started to swell shut. The princess would definitely throw a hissy-fit about the damage to Arbatov's face. Well, it couldn't be helped. He would just make sure not to be anywhere too close to him when the Russian was delivered to the Triad Leader. After all, there was a reason why some called him dragon.
"My dealings with Baishe are of no concern to you. And now that you mentioned it… Wouldn't it be better if you start worrying about your fate instead of Feilong?"
"We have a deal with the White Snake. We protect our assets." Icy blue eyes stared at him.
"And taking my pet would benefit this deal… how again? I don't think so. Hisato, make sure he is in a more cooperative mood when I return."
He turned away without another glance and briskly walked back to the black BMW parked in front of the warehouse. Hisako would make sure that the Russian knew his place when he came back tomorrow. Or maybe he should tell Yoh where to find his rival for the affection of Feilong…
"Where to, Asami-sama? The hospital?" Keita held the door open for his boss.
Everything inside of him screamed 'yes' but he knew his lower body couldn't take more abuse today.
"No. To the club." He might as well get some of the work done that had been neglected over the past weeks. His phone rang. A quick check of the number on the display and a sigh of relief. Not from the hospital; that meant Akihito was doing fine.
"Asami speaking."
"I don't give a rat's ass about your schedule! If you don't hand him over now, I'll start a war unlike any you have ever seen. We had a deal!"
"I'm really getting tired of your yelling, Feilong. Don't call me if you can't control yourself." He hung up with a satisfied grin on his face. It was just too easy to rile the princess up.
He relaxed into the soft leather of his seat and closed his eyes, thinking about how easy it was to rile up his pet. The way his eyes flashed indignantly when he teased him. How he seemed to vibrate from some unknown energy source that had his whole body in motion. How he never seemed to be still, except when he slept. How he curled up in bed after the endless seeming sessions of sex. How he trembled when his hands mapped out every inch of his sweaty skin, making him moan deep in his throat. The desperate sounds he made when he thrust into the soft heat of his body, betraying his need.
With a groan he turned a switch, watching the glass slide close to give him the privacy he needed. He opened his pants to free his raging hard-on from the restricting confines of his pants and started to stroke himself. Slowly at first, his hand moved up and down his shaft savoring the feel of his own silky skin, stretched taut over throbbing flesh. He imagined soft lips wrapping themselves around his manhood, leisurely moving down, taking him deeper and deeper into the moist cavern that was Akihito's mouth. He groaned again and forced himself to take his hands away. He had made a promise and he would stand by it, even if it killed him. Could one die of pent-up sexual frustration?
A deep sigh. He filled a glass with whiskey and took a long swallow. He was about to turn into an alcoholic just because he couldn't play with his favorite toy. Setting the glass aside he regretfully put himself back in his pants and lit a cigarette. This was what it had come to: whiskey and cigarettes. He, the all powerful ruler of Tokyo was reduced to drinking and smoking because of one boy. He shook his head in denial. It couldn't be that he, Asami Ryouichi had fallen for a brat. A dirty, annoying, wild-tempered back-alley cat. No, make that a kitten. A shaggy, untamed but undeniably cute kitten. The way he purred when stroked in the right places…
He had to stop thinking about that. His thoughts went back to the second week after Akihito was taken. When Keita had called to inform him that Akihito's landlord was about to evict him for not paying rent.
He had taken care of the problem and as soon as he was allowed to walk with a cane he had his men take him to Takaba's apartment. He struggled his way upstairs to the worn out door and went inside in hopes to feel closer to his boy. For the first time he took the time to really look around. His eyes took the old worn couch in, his lips slightly curving upward in memory of all the things he had done to his pet on it. He had moved towards the table on which his men had put Akihito's precious camera, the one he had lost when Feilong's men had taken him. He remembered all the conflicting emotions cursing through him upon realizing that the worldly possessions of his lover would fit in four moving boxes. He had almost spent two hours in the small flat, limping around; touching everything Akihito had touched before. And he made a decision. A quick call and his men came up and packed everything up. His precious cameras, the tasteless clothes -he would dispose of them later, the chipped mugs from the kitchenette and of course, the secret stash of photos Akihito had taken of him from under the warped floor-board.
He smiled again. He still didn't know how the boy had managed to take these pictures, but he would definitely enjoy the … interrogation his pet would have to submit to, to find out. Upps. Don't go there.
Thinking about how he had all of Takaba's possessions brought to the penthouse put him in a mellow mood, the time he spent unpacking each box and putting the contents away; not caring that not a single item fit in with his sophisticated taste. It didn't matter. The mugs found their place between his elegant dishes, a small space in his closet was filled with hideously colored t-shirts and the annoying boxers went into his dresser. He did throw the used toothbrush away and replaced it with a bright pink one which had bunny as a handle. Akihito would hate it. He loved it.
When they found Takaba's secret treasure, Akira had helped him find a guy who was able to repair the two old broken cameras Akihito had packed away at the bottom of the closet. Even broken, he was told, they were very valuable and rare. So he had them fixed in hopes to make his boy happy when he returned. And return he did. Injured. In the hospital. Stupid brat.