Come In From the Rain (I'll Warm You Up)

EtOhPower

Summary:

Asami catches a cold and Takaba ends up spending all day in bed

Notes:

This was written ages ago for the VF kink meme. Takaba still isn't living with Asami yet.

(See the end of the work for more notes)

Work Text:

Takaba really isn't stalking Asami. At least, he isn't doing anything that Asami hasn't paid several burly men to do to him first-or so he tells himself as he slips into the marble lobby behind some girl with a dog in her purse. A quick sweep of the hall reveals a security guard who seems a bit too friendly to be one of Asami's goons.

It's been a good six years since Takaba last did anything like this (or at least, that's what his police record says), but he's somehow able to finagle the girl's key from the hairless monster. He spares a moment to marvel at the lax security.

Stopping turns out to be a really bad idea, since the pause allows him to dwell on far more troubling things. It's really not the fact that he's trespassing, or that he just stole a stranger's elevator key which is the problem-extended exposure to Asami has more or less eroded any latent respect Takaba still had for civil law. The problem is that it's a Saturday morning and he's standing outside the door of Asami's apartment with a basket full of fruit and a thermos of Kou's chicken soup.

You see, it really started on Friday night. Since Hong Kong, Asami had taken upon himself to "accidentally get caught in the rain" every week at 9pm, regardless of the weather, so really, Takaba couldn't be blamed for taking his clothes off preventative measures at 8:55pm, when the phone rang.

Stupid Asami.

Figures that Takaba couldn't even be allowed to enjoy the news that the bastard really did get stuck in the rain and ended up catching a cold.

A deep voice jostles Takaba from debating over whether of not to just ring the bell and run away.

"Just come in, Akihito."

Damn Asami for making even his name sound condescending.

What stopped him from just storming off right then, however, was the burr in that familiar baritone.

Asami's apartment building is surprisingly...normal, albeit ridiculously overdone. Then again, Takaba had been expecting some sort of evil castle (and really, what did it say about their relationship fling marriage decidedly non-consensual thing that Takaba had never even been in Asami's apartment?). Despite the mountain of tissues in the trash bin, the flat was incredibly neat, and Takaba had a moment of amusement at the thought of Asami dusting in an apron.

He decided the he was probably sicker than Asami when the only word that came to mind was "cute".

Suddenly, Takaba heard a muffled "Akihido?" come from a pile of blankets in the bedroom.

This was hilarious, and really, he should have just brought a video camera. He wanted to make Asami's sniffles his ringtone.
-

Two hours later, the novelty had long since worn off and Takaba was seriously considering flipping a coin to choose between suicide and homicide. Asami, it turns out, was probably the world's most obnoxious sick person, especially once the drugs kick in.

"Akihito, peel my apples for me."

"I already did, they're on the table."

"They look disgusting. Do it right."

Takaba was tempted to throw the peeling knife right at Asami's non-existant heart, except for the fact that one of the tissue boxes looked suspiciously gun-shaped.

After about 15 minutes of fumbling, Takaba managed to get the fruit peeled and still fruit-like, though the finer nuances of just WHY he was doing this still escaped him.

Asami was doing a damned good impression of a healthy person-smoking, calling people, and in general, being menacing despite wearing nothing but the tightest, smallest pair of boxer-briefs Takaba had ever-AHEM.

"You shouldn't be smoking while you're sick."

He was met with a single raised eyebrow. oh, so you were worried about me, Akihito?

"NO, you smug bast-"

Damn Asami and his Amused Look.

"You don't even look sick. Ugh, I don't even know why I'm here!" Takaba responded. He was feeling miffed and ill-used. It wasn't like he came here to gape at Asami-that would be on par with Asami-sadism, which was its own little snowflake of mental perversion. And despite the fact that Asami had left him horny and worried all last night, Takaba had taken the time out of his own busy and quite important life to come see him. The cosmic unfairness of all of it made him pout.

Suddenly, as if sensing the turn in the atmosphere, Asami hung up the phone with a satisfying click.

"Come here, Takaba." Though spoken in Asami's usually authoritative voice, something-whether that hitch Takaba had heard earlier, or some hallucinated upward lilt argued that this was not a command. Asami lifted the duvet and gestured for Takaba to climb in.

"I don't want to. You'll rape me." He really hadn't meant for that to sound as whiny as it did.

Instead, it only drew a warm laugh from Asami. Takaba was sure that Asami had probably slipped him some cough medicine or something, because there was no way that voice alone could be responsible for the hot flush that raced down his spine.

Asami was clearly deathly ill will some sort of brain disease that had infected Takaba because he didn't even need to ask again before Takaba climbed into the oversized bed, curling up against Asami's ridiculously defined chest (and really, when the gangster managed to fit exercising into his busy schedule of extortion, crime and rape was beyond Takaba's comprehension). He was warm, a little too much and Takaba wasn't quite sure what to feel about the sudden sense of worry he felt (and vindication, because he wouldn't put it past Asami to feign illness to trick innocent photographers). Takaba buried his face into Asami's arm to avoid looking at the older man's face.

"I think you have mad cow disease." This close, he felt rather than heard Asami's rumbly laugh, a soft whuff of air against the top of his head. There's something so comforting about this that Takaba takes in a deep breath of Asami, and damn if he didn't just feel safe with him. It's probably some sort of bizarre mental conditioning, because really, Asami broke him ages ago.

"Thank you for visiting, Akihito." This sincerity, more than anything, makes Takaba freeze where he was inhaling Asami's scent, because this isn't them. They've only existed in these adrenaline charged moments, rough fucks that left Takaba mindless and Asami Breathless and this honesty is just so unfair, so underhanded that Takaba kisses Asami to shut him up. Takaba's not quite ready to deal with what exactly they are just yet and apparently, Asami's willing to indulge him just this once because he flips Takaba onto his back and pins him down with a heated gaze. His smirk is doing weird things to Takaba's stomach but that's fine because it's nothing compared to how overwhelmingly turned on he is.

It's pretty obvious that Asami gets it because Takaba's somehow already naked and he's given up figuring out how that happens every single time. Amber eyes are watching him like a cat with a canary and Takaba writhes against the sheets. His cock is already leaking and Asami hasn't even touched him.

"Ah! We-we shouldn't do thi-is. You're sic-hah!" His breath hitches as Asami tweaks a nipple before biting on his neck. Takaba knows it's a futile, token protest, but seriously, he probably shouldn't be molesting someone who's ill, even if he's not the one doing the molesting and oh god Asami's mouth is on that spot on his clavicle, the one that makes him see stars. There's a mirror on Asami's ceiling and Takaba's rather horrified at his reflection, glassy-eyed with want and it's almost too mortifying for him to choke out and accusation of Asami being a pervert. Though really they both already knew that.

Takaba doesn't have time to ruminate on the consequences of dating an old yakuza pervert though, because Asami moves up for a rough kiss, wet, and demanding and hot and Takaba lets out a whine when Asami moves away and replaces his tongue with his fingers. Takaba licks and sucks and bite on them, getting them wet and imagining it's Asami's cock between his lips, pushing against the back of his throat and who is he kidding he was broken way before Asami infected him with Mad Cow. Asami slides down Takaba's body, pinning down his hips with a heavy, warm hand and swallows Takaba's cock and Takaba almost screams. He looks into the older man's eyes, sees the pupils blown and dilated until there's only a ring of amber and the mouth around Takab's cock, usually so smug, is dismantling him. Asami hums a bit, a vibration in sync with a tongue flicking against Takaba's slit. Takaba thinks he is going to come when Asami suddenly reaches next to him and pulls out something that Takaba barely catches a glimpse of.

"wha-?" His aborted question is answered when he feels a sudden tightness at the base of his cock, cutting off his orgasm and oh he could just kill Asami right now.

"Patience, Akihito. You're here to make me feel better, remember." Takaba lets out a moan because really he's beyond non-verbal at this point. Still, he's sure that is was a very indignant moan. Asami takes advantage of Akihito's distraction to slide a spit-slick finger inside Takaba and goes straight for Takaba's prostate because Asami is a bastard.

"Mo-more!" Asami mouth, curves into a smirk around Takaba's cock and he somehow manages to lick Takaba's balls and really, Takaba doesn't even know why he bothers to fight this. He cants his hips up, desperate for more-more of Asami's mouth, more of his fingers, just more contact. He wants to feel all of Asami in him and it seems like, for once, Asami isn't going to make him wait. Instead, he pulls away, grabs Takaba's hair hard and pulls him towards his enormous cock. Takaba is salivating and the pressure against his scalp makes him open up his throat and take in all of Asami. He gags a little and he hears Asami make a sharp, dirty noise as Takaba's throat clenches.

Asami sits up, lifts Takaba into his lap (and Takaba tries very hard not to think about just why he finds the manhandling hot), and all of a sudden, he's impaled on Asami. He lets out a scream because it's too hot and too big and too much and Asami isn't even stopping to let him catch his breath. It burns when Asami slides all the way in. Asami is grabbing his hips hard enough to leave marks and damn it he's going to have hand prints on his waist tomorrow. It's the "compromise" they came to after the Hickey Talk-Asami gets to mark Takaba in everywhere but his neck and Takaba gets to make up increasingly improbably excuses for why there's a hand print on his ass when he goes to the communal shower with Takato and Kou.

Asami hits Takaba's spot and it makes him wiggle, clench down. He's about to sell his soul to come, except, when Asami's involved, Takaba gets the feeling that it would probably be a rather literal arrangement. Takaba's already used to Asami's thick cock, driving him open and he's losing his mind when he finally feels a large hand reach around for his neglected erection, slick with precome and tight and twisting right where the shaft meets the head. and he passes out when he comes.

Takaba opens his eyes to Asami licking his trembling hole and they end up having sex again in Asami's ridiculous (-ly awesome) clawfoot tub. It's dark by the time Takaba is lucid again. By then, he's pliant and full of goodwill from orgasming to summon up more than an annoyed swat at Asami when he finds out that the other man had called Takaba's workplace for a sick leave.

After all, he's pretty sure that the sparkles he's seeing against Asami's silhouette in the sunset is a sign of Mad Cow.

Notes:

Boston Legal is the Mad Cow reference. I'm not original, sorry.