Negotiations

Disclaimer: Viewfinder and its characters etc. belong to Yamane Ayano. This is a work of fiction done for fun.

Negotiations

Part IV

By: shad0wg8

With a grimace Akihito rolled onto his back, starring up blankly at the ceiling. He needed a shower, badly. But the bathroom was so far away, and he wasn’t sure he could make it there without falling on his face. He rubbed a hand over his bleary, sleep-filled eyes and sighed. He’d have to get up eventually. There was no way in hell he was going to be caught still in the bed whenever Asami decided to show up. Not that being in the shower when Asami got home was all that appealing either, but…

Using the wall and various pieces of furniture, Akihito managed to limp his way awkwardly to the bathroom. Grasping the sink counter for support, he stared at his reflection in the large mirror. The photographer blushed, remembering vividly how he’d acquired all the hickeys that spotted his skin.

Asami was above him, pressing him down into the mattress as he writhed beneath the man. Hot lips and sharp teeth tracked over his skin, leaving marks in their wake. He cried out when Asami bit the side of his neck, drawing the sensitive skin between his teeth and sucking on it. His world narrowed to those maddening lips and the pleasure they gave or chose to withhold…

He shook his head to clear it. Asami certainly had taken his time to enjoy Akihito’s body. Not only were there the memories, but the physical evidence as well. There were a few bruises, and… A shaky hand reached up to his neck. He had forgotten all about the “collar” Asami had put on him. It didn’t look like a collar, more like a choker, but he knew better. Asami said it was a collar, and so it was.

A closer inspection of the silver band revealed no visible clasp. He gave the circlet of metal a few jerky tugs in irritation before giving up. It didn’t look like it would be coming off any time soon. Instead, he turned his attention to the shower and the relief the hot water would give his aching body.

------------------------------------

Asami came home to find Akihito asleep on the couch, dressed in one of his shirts. The garment was obviously too large for the younger man, the sleeves hanging down over his hands which were curled up under his chin. As Asami approached his sleeping prey, he briefly toyed with the idea of tying the boy up again. He thought better of it when he remembered the state of Akihito’s wrists after he’d taken the handcuffs off the previous night. The boy had unknowingly rubbed his wrists raw with all his writhing. Asami smirked at the memory. Kneeling down, he slid a hand up one creamy thigh, pausing before slipping it up under the hem.

“Mmmm…”

Akihito’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

“Asami! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the blonde shouted, scooting across the couch to get away; yanking the thin material down over his knees.

“I was just checking to see if there was anything under that shirt you’ve borrowed without permission.”

“You damn well know I’m not wearing anything else you bastard! What did you do with my clothes?”

Asami was beginning to reconsider his decision to not tie the photographer up.

“You don’t need your clothes.”

“Like hell! How am I supposed to get home like this?”

“You’re not going home.”

That caught Akihito off guard.

“W-what?”

“I said, you’re not going home. You’ll be staying here now.”

“I’m not staying here, not with you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No way in hell,” Akihito yelled, scrambling up from the couch and making a run for the door. Though what he’d do when he was out the door, he had no idea. He had just put his hand on the knob when he was yanked forcefully away and slammed into the wall. Spots danced in his vision as he tried to push the man away.

“L-let me go!”

“Listen to me Akihito.”

The boy continued to struggle, pushing vainly against the unyielding chest.

“I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say you bastard!”

“It’s for your own good,” Asami began, but was cut off by an unexpected slap to his face. As Asami touched the reddening skin, Akihito suddenly realized what he’d done. He visibly paled as he shrank back against the wall. He looked up uncertainly into those dark, dangerous eyes and felt his heart freeze. Asami wouldn’t ever really hurt him, would he…?

“I-I didn’t mean to!” he protested as he was yanked towards the couch. “Asami! I’m sorry! Please…” He was practically in tears.

Akihito was shoved roughly onto the couch, Asami looming over him sinisterly.

“You are an ungrateful little brat,” Asami hissed, his anger and frustration from the events of the day getting the better of him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

He didn’t let the boy respond, instead shoving him down and claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. When he finally let up, Akihito was dazed and breathless, lying prone on the cushions. Asami didn’t give him a chance to recover; diving back in he grabbed and bound the photographer’s wrists. Wrenching the boy up off the couch, he bent him over his knee and jerked the shirttails up.

The loud smack echoed through the large penthouse, followed by another, and another. Akihito’s cries soon joined in harmony with the smacks as Asami spanked the boy with barely controlled restraint.

“Are you ready to listen?”

There was a sharp intake of breath as he lightly caressed the smooth, blemished skin. Akihito couldn’t help but squirm as those skillful fingers drifted down over one cheek and tickled the back of his knee before skimming back up.

“Someone had already searched your apartment when my men got there. I’m sure you realize what that means.”

“B-but… I could just-”

“No. You’re staying here. And that’s final.”

Akihito tried to protest but ended up biting his lip to hold back a moan as Asami slipped a finger inside him.

“I think you enjoy being spanked,” Asami commented, rubbing his thigh against Akihito’s groin.

“N-no… stop,” Akihito protested weakly, pressing his face into the cushioned seat of the couch to hide his flushed face. He swore as a second finger followed soon after the first, frantically trying to squirm away. His struggles ceased when Asami nudged a fingertip against his prostate, rubbing it lightly. He gasped, his hip bucking back as his body grew uncomfortably warm. His bound hands clutched desperately at the arm of the couch as Asami rubbed his thigh firmly against Akihito’s erection, eliciting a series of moans and pants that dwindled into quiet whimpers. Satisfied that his boy was sufficiently compliant, he maneuvered him up onto his knees, taking time to admire the lovely picture presented to him.

The photographer’s face was a beautiful rosy color, his skin flushed and expression slack. His eyes were unfocused, moisture glistening at the corners. Asami’s heated gaze fell on the full lips and he tugged the younger man in for a kiss, nudging himself against the boy’s entrance. Akihito grasped the lapel of Asami’s jacket tightly with his bound hands as he was lowered onto the older man’s cock, unable to hold back a strident moan as he was filled to the point of it almost being unbearable. He buried his face against Asami’s neck to muffle the embarrassing noises he was making, but the man tugged his head up with a hand threaded firmly in his hair.

“I want to hear you,” Asami whispered against his ear, dragging his lips down to the exposed neck as Akihito’s head fell back.

Asami set a slow, torturous pace that was gradually making Akihito loose his mind. No matter how much he begged and sobbed, Asami wouldn’t touch him and refused to increase the pace. Akihito tried to force himself down, but the man grabbed his hips and held him in place, rolling his hips up smoothly as he bit down on one erect nipple through the light dress shirt. Akihito trembled against him, pleading. Asami paused, enjoying the sweet noises his boy made as he tried to make him move, desperate for release.

“Asami…” his voce was barely a whisper, the rest of what he wanted to say cut off by a breathless wail as Asami began moving again, this time hard and fast.

He came to several moments later, slumped against Asami’s broad chest, feeling satiated and at ease. Snuggling into the warmth, he made a small noise of contentment as gentle fingers drifted through his hair.

“Are we settled then?” Asami murmured into his hair, fingers drifting down to the nape of Akihito’s neck.

“Mmhmm…” Akihito replied, still half asleep.

Scooping the boy up, he carried him into the bedroom, depositing him on the bed before going into the bathroom to draw a bath.

Akihito hissed in pain as his abused posterior came into contact with the steaming water. Asami continued to lower him into the large tub, watching the photographer’s face scrunch up in pain again as his wrists were submerged.

“Soak as long as you need to,” Asami murmured, pulling away and quickly exiting the bathroom, leaving a confused Akihito alone in the tub. Shutting the door behind him, he picked his phone up off the bedside table.

“Report.”

There was a long pause, Asami running a hand through his tousled hair as he glanced at the bathroom door.

“Keep an eye on their movements. I want to be ready when they decide to make a move.” He fished a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips. “And Kirishima, set up a meeting tomorrow with Miss Yaida.” Disconnecting the call, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed bathroom door. The game had begun.