It was approximately an hour before noon when Akihito finally roused, grudgingly, with the help of a few light and annoyingly persistent slaps to his cheek. Hands dipping into the soft mattress, he sat up, bed covers slipping down to his hips, seductively revealing the soft curve of his lower back. Unaware of his provocative display, Akihito rubbed the remnants of sleep out from his eyes and arched his back in a strenuous stretch of stiff muscles. Sufficiently loosened and comfortable, he wrapped the sheets around his cold body out of habit lest he tempted a certain somebody to take advantage of his weakened self (Not that it really mattered. Even at full power, Asami could just as easily take him down with a mere heated gaze) and tested his balance on two quivering feet. Assured he wouldn't fall embarrassingly flat on his face, he pushed away from the bed, swaying dangerously.

An unanticipated lightning of pain tore a sharp cry from his lips. Sinking to his feet, Akihito released the white fabric to clutch at his burning spine, gritting his teeth. Just what the hell happened last night? Through experience, Akihito knew the short duration of sex in the bathroom last night would never have warrant such a searing consequence. That could only mean Asami had fucked him into the bed right through the night. He racked his brains for any recollection but only hazy fuzziness greeted his drowsy conscious. Now that was unusual. He could usually remember, even if it was only small excerpts.

"Need any help?"

Akihito raised his head, meeting the smug, satisfied gaze with a vicious glare. "No!" Sharply slapping the outstretched hand away, he stubbornly gathered his strength and pushed off the floor, silky sheets forgotten. Legs failing him once more, Akihito cursed as he collapsed into the waiting arms. "Bastard. This is your entire fault."

Chuckling, Asami lifted the aching boy into his arms and strutted towards the bathroom. "Oh? I had your consent."

A snort echoed across polished marble bathroom tiles. "In your own delusions maybe." Akihito hissed as he was placed back on his feet in front of the sink. Despite bracing himself against the marbled edge, his legs shook with effort to support his weight.

Placing his hands on the hips of his unsteady lover, Asami purred lowly in response, echoing the pleas Akihito had previously practically begged out. "'Take me Asami. Please. I want to come.' Ring any bells?"

Akihito blushed. It did sound like something he would say. Vaguely. But it wasn't something he would willingly admit, not in this lifetime or the next. Distracting himself with the tap, he mumbled past his frothy toothbrush. "None whatsoever…"

Head down to rinse the remaining traces of toothpaste out, Akihito failed to notice the slight crease on the top of Asami's head. He did, however, sense the slight shift in the unusual silent atmosphere. After a thorough splash, Akihito turned to face the unnaturally silent man, fluffy face towel in hand. "Asami?"

The older man shifted his eyes to regard his questioning lover. "Akihito…Are you…" Knitting his brows, the older man paused, leaving the question hanging. Akihito tilted his head in suspicion. There was something odd about Asami. The confident man rarely trailed off, leaving a sentence unfinished. He could very well be imagining it but that last note, it had sounded … hesitant?

Locking hazel with amber, Akihito stared worriedly into the indiscernible pools of darkness, trying to sift for any clues. As usual, Asami made it as unreadable as ever with little effort. Knowing it was useless to pry anything out of the older man, Akihito sighed and lowered his gaze, eyes trailing down the strong jaw to stop at the flawless neck. Or so he had previously thought. Akihito frowned and leaned in to take a closer look. The traces were faint but he could just barely make out slight purplish marks on the once unblemished epithelial layer.

Abruptly, Asami released his grip on his hips and took a step back, away from Akihito's scrutiny. "You have ten minutes." Turning on his heels, he left the bathroom, voice returning to its usual smugness. "Better be quick, you don't want Lutfiyah barging in on your naked self do you?

Without the support from Asami, Akihito painfully dropped once more to the cold, unforgiving floor. "Fuck! Ouch! You… Asshole!" Despite his spiteful retort, he still watched the retreating back with apprehension. There was something eerily nostalgic about the shape in which the marks took on. Kind of like the ones he received back in Hong Kong. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Akihito gave a dismissive laugh and drew his knees to his chest, carefully prodding the blood pool under his skin. Impossible to the max. Enemies wouldn't even be able to cross the five meter boundary around Asami without having their brains shot out. Besides, he was the only one next to the older man all night. As far as Asami was concerned, Akihito was sure as hell considered a harmless rat in the older man's books.

Struggling back onto his feet, he ignored his throbbing knees and leaned tiredly against the wall, shuddering at the coldness of marble. At wits end, he brought a hand to comb through his strangely untangled chestnut locks, massaging his temples as if it could encourage his brain to make sense of everything. Residual sand of sleep dulled his thought process, turning solid to mush rather than the other way round. Too lazy to dwell any longer, Akihito chose the easiest reachable conclusion. Somehow through the night, Asami must have, on a whim, allowed him to place a couple of light bite marks. There. Matter settled. He nodded and took a deep breath, moving on to more pressing issues. How the hell was he to get to the shower that lied right at the other end of the humongous bathroom?

Cautiously, he placed a foot forward, testing the shift in weight. As soon as he leaned slightly forward, his knees buckled and Akihito found himself closely acquainted with the marble tiles once more. A string of frustrated vulgarities echoed heavily within the spacious room. Fine! Crawl it is.

Shrugging his crisp white shirt on, Asami lifted an eyebrow as crude hollering followed his departure from the washroom. Buttoning up deftly with quick fingers, he casually ignored the loud clatters, amplified by the enclosed walls, and stared into the mirror. Long fingers traced faint blemishes, massaging the blood clots. He needed to hide these more carefully. It wouldn't do if Akihito managed to somehow remember the event. It was much too early. The second wave was always stronger and he wasn't sure if the boy's mind could handle the stress.

Akihito was too pure for his own good. Having brilliance that strong even when enshrouded by pitch-black darkness could be a handicap in its own way. Never wallowing in the negative, the boy's brain had learnt to suppress unpleasant memories. It was an unhealthy habit, so to speak. As it accumulated, the sheer pressure would naturally cause the dam to crack – figuratively speaking. Akihito's mind was still too naïve, too detestably white. Should the dam collapse entirely at this juncture, Asami supposed – no- was sure the boy would break under the force of such abrupt darkness; shattering till none of its original brash, hot-headed shell remained.

As much as he hated himself for it, Asami knew he needed to condition the boy to the impending darkness; tread all over that snowy landscape and sully his lover till he was sufficiently tainted. His member twitched at that sinful thought, familiar euphoria starting to bubble down under. With trained discipline, he willed himself to relax. Maybe he really was a pervert that Akihito was always complaining about. Cocking his head, Asami smirked at his reflection. Yet, it couldn't be helped; Akihito had a way of honing his sense of perversion with each and every little innocent action. The boy was a natural in that aspect.

Focusing once more on the purple patches, Asami, indulging in a rare moment of childishness, tried to glare them away. Few seconds of predictable futility later, the rational part of his mind shook its head and finally took control, steering his hand towards the drawer to retrieve a small tube out.

Squeezing a stingy amount of creamy liquid out, Asami applied it to his skin. As he rubbed, the powdery cream gradually blended flawlessly into the nude color of his skin, effectively concealing. Tilting his head to stretch the skin, Asami examined his neck slowly, rounding the circumference of purple to smooth the ridges out. Satisfied with his job, he capped the tube and toyed with it between fingers.

Concealer. It had been a while since he had to use it. Over the years, he had grown far too strong to sustain any bruising injuries in barbaric fist fights. At present, the only (scarce) number of times when it came in handy was when his dear beloved mother graced his cheeks with her not-so-delicate slender fingers for reasons that would not be expounded upon, for reputation sake. At least, for now.

He really was losing his touch. His mother was one, but Akihito? The number of people whom he willingly allowed lingering traces of skin contact was steadily increasing. Well, he did say that he noticed strong 'women'. Perhaps that would be his crumbling foothold. Lust, Stupidity or Old age. Asami was well aware that one day his downfall would be because of either three reasons, as it was for every other man whose sole drive in life was insatiable ambition. After all when one reaches the pinnacle of success, there would be no other route available other than descent.

A clatter and another holler of frustration broke through his life-reflecting reverie. Flicking his wrist, Asami took quick notice of the ticking hands. Less than five minutes till Lutfiyah's arrival with Akihito's female baggage. Sparing one last check to his neck, Asami rolled his sleeves up and stalked towards the bathroom. Time to assist his little cat with his bubble bath. And a quick round if time (and pet) permitted it.

Akihito. Was. Not. Pleased. At all. Nobody told him he was required to attend a business appointment. With Royalty. In female garb. And if Asami wanted a god damn favor, why couldn't the stupid pompous ass just ask nicely? Not fuck him to kingdom come and then spring a one-liner, summarizing the day's activities, on an unsuspecting might-as-well-be-handicapped lover.

There wasn't a problem with acting as Asami's fiancée.

Really.

Maybe slightly.

… Fine. It was a big problem but there were bigger issues to be concerned over.

What pissed him off completely was Asami's apparent lack of a functioning brain. He had to be freaking carried from place to place, be aided in daily mundane tasks such as bathing and dressing (which he was sure the brainless twit thoroughly enjoyed, what with the deliberate lingering of skin contact at totally unnecessary places) and could hardly sit still due to the literal pain in his ass. What made that idiot think, even for a split second, that he could pull off a proper act with his current condition? In the first place, if he was expected at such an important appointment, shouldn't the man know perfectly well his 'fiancée' needed to be in the purest shade of pink health to give the best impression? Not make matters worse by sticking s-stuff down his anal canal early in the afternoon.

Akihito scowled darkly, aura of umbrage further enhanced by the crimson Hōmongi he wore, directing his glare of death to the guarded broad back standing at a safe distance away. A light flick of sharp nails to his clothed shoulders had him focusing obediently on the lady before him. Lutfiyah was positively displeased when Akihito had stubbornly (and rudely) forbade her entry, insisting that it was improper for a married woman to lay eyes on a naked, young man covered with hickeys from head to toe. (Which was strange that it mattered now, since two days ago, he was relatively fine with being stripped down to nothing in front of a group of females) Big mistake. He should never have let Asami dress him instead because whatever they did together, it would always boil down to sex, ultimately forcing the already unhappy lady to stay outside longer than necessary with Kirishima, much to the chagrin of the latter.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Lutfiyah's wrath came crashing down upon his frail body, drawing small whimpering pleas for forgiveness from plump, swollen lips. His eyelids throbbed under the harsh stokes of solid eye pencils, hair roots creaked with pained protests at vicious pulls and cheeks prickled when scrubbed raw with stiff brushes.

Just a little more Akihito. You can do this. Be a man.

With a deep breath, he forcibly swallowed the last whine of pain when tweezers spitefully plucked out the last of the stray brow hair.

There. All Done. Good job Akihito, well do-

"Why are you parting the Okumi?"

As the pretentious serene lady bared his legs, smiling innocently, she spoke, words dripping with pure malice. "Why Akihito, you didn't think we were done, did you?" With that, she produced brown rectangular strips, sadistically relishing in the pure white horror on Akihito's face.

"Oh my god. N-no! Please. Anything but that. I beg you!" Akihito shook his head erratically and attempted to draw his legs away. He could handle female clothes and makeup, but this? No. Definitely not. Leg hair was the pride of man. It reminded him of his original masculinity and was what kept him grounded throughout this entire cross-dressing saga. If he was stripped of even this…

Akihito cursed when a sharp pain shot up his spine, halting his evasion attempt instantly. As Lutfiyah advanced upon him, Akihito frantically called upon his last resort (who was incidentally the culprit for his current predicament and reason for his inability to move properly).

"Asami! Stop her! Why do we even need to do this? My legs are going to be covered anyway!" Cunningly, he did his best to look alluringly defenseless, hoping it would appeal to the dominating side of the possessive Yakuza. (After all, if his puppy eyes had worked on the man the day before, why shouldn't this version work just as perfectly?)

The aloof man simply turned from his hushed conversation with his secretary and raised an eyebrow, regarding the pleading boy with professionally masked amusement. Weak. Helpless. Submissive. His inner beast prowled within the confines of his mind, purring its content with deafening power. He gave credit to the younger man. Akihito was learning how to twist odds in his favor. However, it was still … lacking. Easily suppressing the urge to protect, Asami placed a smirk on his lips to disguise. "Come Kirishima. It would seem my little cat wants some 'alone time' with his… groomer."

With a smart click of his heel, Asami swiftly proceeded to the next room without a backward glance, trusted assistant loyally trailing after.

Akihito felt his jaw unhinged as he stared, wide-eyed in disbelief, feeling thoroughly betrayed. Shit. That should have worked. Unexpectedly abandoned by his last hope, his blank mind barely registered the smacks to his legs as deft brown fingers plastered strips securely to the planes of his carelessly exposed skin. It was only when a rip sliced through the air did Akihito jolt back into reality. He howled as burning pain engulfed his conscious, forcing tears to bead along the corner of his eyes.

Kirishima's ears prickled and twitched when the shrill screech of agony tortured the drums within. Allowing only a fraction of a turn towards the bedroom, he commented worriedly (just a little), "Asami-sama, perhaps it would be in Takaba's best interest to-"

Asami waved his half-finished suggestion off, unrestraint amusement lighting the dark amber orbs. "Mothering Akihito now?"

Kirishima maintained his professional, detached persona despite the underlying jibe at his true nature, stepping forward with a match when Asami took his sebsis from its elaborately carved cedar stand. After lighting the clump of cannabis plants, Kirishima took his cue to reply as Asami breathed in the addictive smoke in comfortable silence. "Even if you had intended for Takaba to stay put during the entire hunt, it is still unadvisable to take things this far. Should a dire circumstance arise, Takaba would not be able to move, much less escape."

"That's what you're there for. Why did you think I left you in charge of Akihito's protection?" Settling into the soft embroidered couch, Asami reclined back, relaxing his heavy muscles.

Lacking for an appropriate response that would not suggest incompetence at his job, Kirishima dipped his head in defeat and sat stiffly in the couch directly opposite when gestured to. Despite his assistant's stoic mask, Asami could still sense the disapproval emanating from the straight-laced man. Really now, just who's the boss here? "There is no need for concern. Akihito will regain the use of his legs in the next two hours, just enough to walk. Should … the 'dire circumstance' befall upon us, the adrenaline will override the aftereffects of the drug."

"Drugs?" Ah. Oops.

"You didn't happen to take that abomination from Lutfiyah when I turned my back, did you?" Yes. That was exactly what happened. Was he always this predictable?

"Asami-sama!" He should really give his secretary a promotion. From right-hand man to substitute mother.

"Stop being such a worrywart Kirishima. It's not like you to be so worked up over one of the many drugs I feed to Akihito. If I remembered correctly, your fiancée enjoyed it very much too."

The bespectacled suited man visibly stiffened, and answered rigidly, deliberately ignoring references to his personal life. "I do not trust her, she has too many faces. She could've have poisoned it."

Resting his head against a propped up hand, Asami steadily regarded the mistrust shining within brown depths and stated matter-of-factly. "Spanish fly is a poison." When Kirishima's stony face delivered an expression devoid of humor, he continued on with slight disappointment. "Little benefits can be reaped from double-crossing us. She knows the price of betrayal as well as her husband does." Kirishima's less-than-convinced demeanor prompted him to lift his shoulders, heaving a sigh. "We have had this discussion several times over the last three years and we are not going to go through this again. She is a key Kirishima, and I rather not lose an important factor in this equation."

Swiftly standing, he drew the curtains aside to appreciate the majestic empire whose underworld was soon to be his. "Matter aside, is there anything I should know before the hunt?"

Behind, Kirishima stood as well, delivering his report with professional ease. "Yes, according to various informants, there are two other people joining today." Tapping lightly on his PDA, he recited monotonously but with clarity. "Mahjub Sawlat Mansour. Thirty-four. Officially married to two wives, illegally to eight, of which four are still under-aged. Twenty-eight sons and ten daughters. On the surface, he is known as a powerhouse in agriculture. Recently, he has begun to expand into the tourist industry. Underworld activities include human trafficking and drug trafficking. A major informant for the royal house. Highly-skilled in weaponry and martial arts."

Processing the data, Asami sucked another lungful of smoke before breathing out a question. "Fantasia or any Equestrian skills?"

Without missing a beat, Kirishima provided a prompt reply. "None."

Asami's brows slanted downwards. "Keep an eye on him. That man does not intend to join the hunt."

Nodding curtly, Kirishima typed with speed and accuracy, mass-sending messages concerning the change in arrangement in seconds. "The second person…," scrolling down, his breath hitched in hesitation.

"It's alright." Fingering the silky translucent curtains, Asami smirked. "Feilong. As meddling as ever."

Mirth danced in his eyes as he turned around. "Did you know he occasionally emails Akihito? He sent one last night stating that they would meet soon."

Despite the plain amusement in that comment, Kirishima could still sense the imperceptible shift in air. Annoyance. Jealousy. Possessiveness. He wasn't even sure if Asami noticed it himself. "Should I-"

"No, it's fine. Feilong positively adores the boy, even if he doesn't want to acknowledge it." Tapping the residue of 'kif' ashes out of pipe, he placed it back on its polished stand, tracing the dips and rise of the carvings. He felt greatly unsatisfied. While the taste of 'kif' was indeed splendid, it was like an appetizer. He needed a main course to completely sate his hunger. "The prize is ownership of the casino. Takaba would be of little interest."

"He knows that Takaba is a male." Kirishima softly warned.

Barely indicating that he heard his secretary, he crossed the room with fingers twitching for the familiar white stick, brain pulsing for nicotine. Stopping before another of the many couches that littered the living room, he took the black jacket that draped neatly over, dipping his hand into blazer pockets, only to find it empty. Sighing, he dropped the disappointing garment. "Not a problem. Feilong isn't stupid. He knows the consequence of exposing our little act. Akihito's lifeless eyes would be the last thing he wants to see." Fingers raking through his hair, he succumbed to the unrelenting crave for tobacco. "See that all arrangements are made. And while you're at it, get me a box."

Nodding, Kirishima gave a quick bow before leaving the room, tapping incessantly at the brightly lit screen. Back inside, Asami dropped heavily onto the couch and closed his eyes, laying the pieces on the board in his mind.

Feilong.

How very convenient.

With the correct moves, the Hong Kong mafia leader could prove to be quite useful as a knight.

That was it.

End of the line.

He was going to give Asami the silent treatment.

Screw the loving engaged couple act.

Arrogant.

Heartless.

Betraying.

Bastard.

The car engine seemed to purr its agreement. Who wouldn't share its sentiments if sent to the workshop for repair jobs on a regular basis?

In the older man's lap, he puffed his cheeks and willed himself to remain unresponsive to the various jibes and inappropriate touches. Despite his determination to ignore the very existence of the man, Akihito couldn't help sneaking inconspicuous glances at well-timed intervals.

Asami gave equestrian wear a totally new definition. The white shirt wasn't anything special but the riding breeches. Oh God. It was a sin for the man to wear it. Akihito swore he narrowly avoided swooning like a girl at first sight. Skin-tight beige breeches fitted muscular legs perfectly, shadow highlighting solid planes under the sun. Even as he sat on them, view obscured, the curve of hardy thigh muscles rippled teasingly under his bottom, driving his self-restraint to its limits. This was all Asami's fault. What had the man done to him, to turn his once virgin body into such an immodest wanton thing?

Shifting nervously as he squished all tempting thoughts, Akihito tried to tune the remaining ones to other focuses.

For such an important business appointment, Asami sure was dressing pretty casually. In the first place, why do rich people go riding when they want to strike business deals? Corporate socializing for the rich and for the poor sure was different. Playing with the hems of his decorated furi, Akihito frowned. If Asami could dress semi-casually, why couldn't he too? Wearing an Hōmongi was stifling, and entirely inappropriate for riding. Why bring him along if he never planned for his 'fiancée' to ride?

What were Asami's intentions? As usual, whatever the older man did, it would always confuse and baffle his simple mind. His fingers itched to pull at the yakuza's impeccable wrinkle-free shirt and his lips longed to interrogate. But, speaking to Asami was out of the question at the moment. He would not give his prized attention to the infuriating man. Not after betraying him like that.

Question left unanswered, Akihito started to speculate explanations of his own.

First explanation. He was supposed to be there just to look pretty, an ornament to make Asami look complete. Akihito was well aware of the fact that in the turbulent world of money and stocks, a grounded man would look rather appealing. A symbolism of stability. And the key to that was having a wife, or a wife-to-be in his peculiar case.

… Alright. Not in his case. Because he was a man. And men cannot be wed to another man. Or so the law states.

God. Why is he thinking about this? Just what is happening to him? Talking about marriage and dowry the day before must have really screwed his brain inside out.

Besides, having a wife didn't necessarily mean stability. There were still divorces and infidelity, evidence shown in many of the photos he had been taking since the very beginning as a freelance photographer.

Then there was the second explanation. To be a bargaining chip. He had not forgotten the night when Asami had dropped deceivingly minor details. If the King liked beautiful Asian women, should he offer something of an equivalent price, why shouldn't Asami give him up for the chance to conquer the empire of the underworld? His replaceable lover or his insatiable ambition. It wouldn't be too hard to choose.

Then again, there was that Hong Kong incident, which definitely proved he was at least important to Asami. Important enough to risk his life and many others'. It would be short-sightedness on Asami's part should he so willingly give up on something that he had literally spilled blood to protect, and short-sightedness was not one of Asami's defining traits.

Finally, the third explanation and by far the most ludicrous. Asami wanted a companion. Plain and simple. The man just wanted a comfortable familiarity to be with when facing an opponent of equal strength, if not possessing more.

Akihito gave a mental snort. A pillar of support? He highly doubted so. More like a short-lived lighted cigarette that was always stuck between the yakuza's lips, which was still too good a comparison because that man could never possibly live without having his daily nicotine dose. An addiction. It would be nice if Asami thought of him like that.

Unable to help himself, Akihito drew his face into a full-fledged frown. Just where had his pride fled to? Was he so desperate for Asami's attention that he would feel satisfied with just the mere regard as a thing? Thinking about it, with the exception of explanation number three, he had pretty much regarded himself as an object, a pawn in Asami's grand plan. Going along the lines of this thought, Akihito would come to terms that he was indeed stooping that low. That was the first step. Next, he would need to rectify this method of thinking. As quickly as possible.

Akihito gave a fatigued sigh. He was exhausted from having to face such stressing thoughts day after day. The mere inkling of Asami throwing him away when he had fulfilled his purpose (Big or small, it was debatable, but he would rather not go there for the time being.) was frightening and the very thought of it wrecked his soul.

Wrapped in his thoughts, Akihito failed to notice his small escapes of sighs and now barely concealed sneak peeks, which led the observant older man on. When the both of them finally made eye contact, Akihito snapped out of his daze and cursed. Why was it that even when he made it a point to physically show disinterest, the unbearably good-looking man still plagued his mind?

Apparently confident that Akihito was finally reacting to his less-than-proper-but-highly-desirable conduct, Asami leaned in for a kiss which the sulking young man childishly denied with a quick turn of his head.

Knowing the nature of such a mortal, Asami could hardly be classified as a man who would take refusal lightly. With equal stubbornness, the older man tried again, whispering sultrily, tempting the boy with promises of pleasure and carnal exploration.

Akihito puffed his cheeks once more. Ironic. Really. Here he was desperately craving for Asami's eyes in secret and there Asami was, giving him full attention (not the kind he wanted) as the man blatantly tried to get a reaction out of him.

"Akihito," breathed Asami, sliding fingertips seductively across the smooth planes of his leg, devoid of its usual fine hair.

The younger man sucked the air back from cheek pockets, effectively returning them to normal shape. Without hair to act as a buffer, the electricity sparking from where Asami's fingers touched intensified. Running through axons and dendrites, the sparks slyly got his brain drunk on pleasure. Dangerously close to relenting, Akihito frantically shook his head, clearing his mind. He chewed on the insides of his cheeks and steeled his determination.

He would win this battle of wills.

As Asami nuzzled the sensitive nerve endings at the nape of his neck, he felt his resolve slowly being peeled apart. The process sped up when familiar moist muscle started to tease and lap. Asami was becoming more persistent, putting more effort in the current round of self-perceived hard-to-get game. With all his nerves being lit with mere touches, he could hardly work his brain into thinking of other things. Damn it. He needed a distraction, a stimulus that would enable him to erect a fortress, using trivial thoughts as material.

Another erotic swipe.

He needed it fast, and preferably not centering about the man.

Akihito forced himself to focus on the scenery zipping past the car window, willing himself to give a silent description of it. People were rushing about. Men were preparing themselves for their daily afternoon prayers. Few women were seen on the streets as they huddled themselves in kitchens, whipping up gourmet dishes for lunch. Children, let off from school, chased after stray cats, treating the little critters to small pieces of freshly baked flatbread.

Speaking of cats, due to all the commotion in the last hour or so, the black feline he had picked up the day before had completely slipped his mind. The cat wasn't in the room when he woke up, which could only mean that Asami had chased it out or it had left on its own accord. Akihito drew his lips into a pout. He had wanted to have a look at the eye before releasing it. His lips then pursed when questions hanged precariously on the tip of his tongue.

Again, he couldn't possible inquire Asami about the cat when he was blatantly declaring indifference to the man. Maybe he would ask Kirishima later. If the obsessive secretary had no clue, he could always persuade the bespectacled man to ask Asami.

It didn't take Asami very long to notice Akihito's lack of reaction to his lewd ministrations. With a push of a button, he drew the blinds down, robbing the boy of his distraction. The sudden dimness jolted the boy out of his thoughts. Satisfied, Asami latched onto the base of Akihito's throat and sucked forcefully.

Caught unaware, a muffled moan slipped out of pressed lips. His victory was imminent. Smirking against pulsing jugular vein, Asami increased the vacuumising pressure, pushing Akihito closer to the brink.

It wasn't fair. The jerk was cheating. Repressing yet another moan, Akihito squirmed and wriggled, trying to pull away from the sinfully hot mouth. Against his will, his body soaked up that heat, working into an enticingly feverish display. Skillfully thrown into the swirling pit trap, he could no longer distract himself with thoughts either as none could formulate in the murky depths. His stomach coiled and knotted with familiarity. Upon recognizing the dreaded yet welcomed sensation, Akihito's eyes widened and squirmed harder.

"Still resisting? I wonder…," Asami clamped his teeth down on loose skin and released, tasting small rivulets of blood leisurely, "…just how much more you can endure."

"Mmf!" His small teeth wound throbbed, sensory neurons acting even more strongly due to the sudden harsh stimulus. The sensation washed over and overloaded his brain, electrifying everything in its path. If he didn't stop Asami soon, his garment would be soiled and then a very scary female would come after him with a chainsaw, putting waxing strips to shame. To lose his pride or his life. There was no need to consider which was more important. Decision made, he threw his resolve over his shoulders.

"W-wait! Time out!" Mustering all the strength he could, Akihito pushed at the head. "I. Said. Time. Out!"

Akihito breathed a sigh of relief when the older man finally complied, pulling away from the moist, bruising skin. Strong arms encircled his waist for insurance lest he attempted to escape. Was he that easy to read?

"What will you offer?" The younger boy knitted his recently shaped eyebrows in confusion.

Asami smirked and elaborated. "Equivalent exchange. If I stop, what will you give me in return for my loss?"

Spluttering, Akihito squirmed once more. "Loss? What loss? Pervert. Don't get all business-like with me." He clawed at his cage, self-preservation kicking in. Striking a deal with Asami was never the wisest of choice. He had everything to lose. "Lemme go!"

Chuckling, Asami tightened his grip further, drawing the kimono clad male closer. Once within range, he licked the ear shell and proposed a deal that would benefit the both of them, himself more so than the other. "I'll stop if you," he fondled the bare thighs between parted layers of fabric sensually, "don't run off on your own later."

Doing a quick cost-benefit analysis, Akihito nodded his head repeatedly, desperate for the broad hand to stop molesting him. Heated hands wandered further up as Asami elaborated further, tone taking a serious turn. "No matter what you see or hear Akihito, you absolutely must not stray from Kirishima's vision. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes! Yes! I promise!" Tugging at the hands that were overwhelming him with pleasure, he hastily agreed without the slightest of hesitation. "Now hands off!" Relief returned when the older man finally stopped. Obediently stay where he was told to remain? That was hardly difficult. He couldn't move much anyway, not with his non-functioning leg muscles.

"One more thing," Akihito turned questioningly to face the man.

First mistake.

His lips were immediately captured. Feeling a small sphere being pushed towards his mouth, he tried to pull away. However, Asami was a step quicker. Held in place by the back of his head, Akihito chose the next alternative. He pressed his lips firmly together, denying entrance.

Second mistake.

A sharp tug at his arousal had him gasping.

Third mistake.

Akihito choked as the pill rolled into his trachea. Doubling over, he coughed in agony, thumping his chest in effort to force the solid back up.

Panicking accusatory hazel locked with amused gold when Asami tilted the boy's head back, baring the quivering throat. He kneaded the clenching muscles patiently, skillfully bringing the pill down the correct channel.

Shoulders heaving as he gulped for precious air, Akihito blinked the beads of tears away. "What the hell did you just give me?"

The heavy broad frame shrugged, baritone reverberating pleasantly. "A good luck charm."

"G-good luck?" Akihito exclaimed. "That thing almost choked me to death."

"Minor detail."

"M-mi…Minor? I could have died you heartless jerk!"

Blood rushed to his head in the heat of his indignant rage.

"I'm not talking to you anymore!"

Harrumphing spitefully, Akihito clambered clumsily off Asami's lap. Settling himself on the other side of the seat, he childishly crossed his arms and turned his head away angrily, giving his attention to the dark blinds.

Asami sighed at the sudden lost of his lap warmer. The silent treatment again? Sometimes, his little cat was so difficult to please.

Asami 4 (round one +1) Akihito 3 (round two +1)

Hōmongi – A type of formal kimono. Literally translated as 'visiting wear'. It was originally meant for married women as it replaces the furisode (strictly unmarried women's formal kimono, usually worn for coming-of-age ceremonies, characterized by the exceptionally long furi) upon entering womanhood. At present, unmarried women may also wear them to ceremonies and formal events.

Okumi – Refers to the front inside panel situated on the front edge of the left and right, excluding the sleeve of a kimono. Until the collar, down to the bottom of the dress goes, up and down part of the strip of cloth. Just google it, it's a lot easier to understand with the diagram.

Furi – Sleeve below the arm hole

Fantasia – A traditional Moroccan equestrian performance involving gunpowder guns. Originally called the 'game of gunpowder'.

A/n: Chapter 8 done. Finally. :D PM me if there's any mistakes.

Recently, I've seen quite a number of online manga sites licensing this manga. A real pity. And the animix has been taken down from youtube. Sighs. I just love reading people's comments. They're hilarious. And now, since it's taken down, all I read is people screaming for it to come back (which were funny on its own. I know. It's mean. Sorry. But I couldn't help myself).

On a completely unrelated note, 6 more days to Kony 2012 'Cover the Night'! I can't wait to see the videos of the campaign. Wonder if it's going to be as huge as they claim (or wish) it to be…

Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!

God speed to all of you.