Another year later.
"Do you remember when we –"
"I try not to."
"But don't you ever think about –"
"I bet you do." Akihito elbow-nudged the balding man walking beside him. "Come on, Ogawa-san, when's the last time you had so much fun in the Boardroom?"
"Funny. I seem to recall it more as You, me, outside. Asami-sama was not pleased." There was a deep furrow on Ogawa's brow.
"Are you nervous? Don't sweat it, this is gonna be great."
"Why am I not reassured..."
Akihito grinned. "So why're you here again? You didn't have to come."
"It's my duty," Ogawa said loftily. "I'm the IT liaison for EverEye World."
"Yeah but all the camera feeds are set up already. You just wanna see the new gizmo."
"Yes, mainly that," Ogawa admitted.
Akihito snorted as they entered the Boardroom, drawing all eyes at his rude entrance.
Twenty Board members were already there, as well as Asami and Glasses and Blond Tank. There were some smiles and nods, from many familiar execs who'd witnessed the pentesting before and were anticipating another memorable experience. Thankfully they were over the Let's-all-gawk-at-the-CEO's-husband! phase and didn't bat an eye at seeing the two in the same room. But there were some new faces too. He caught the pointed glances, flicking between the matching rings on his and Asami's hands.
Akihito sighed. "Smashing."
They could all see each other but not as they'd been just moments ago. They'd all transformed into elves, dwarves and hobbits. Enough natural features remained visible to identify everyone but they were embellished with pointy ears and hairy feet, strapped with armour of leather and iron, wielding bows and axes and swords whenever they moved their hands. They were still sitting around a huge table but it was a solid stone thing now, intricately carved, chipped with use.
The Boardroom itself was a mountain plateau. The sky was open and clear, the grass green and lush underfoot, surrounded by sheer rocky cliffs dropping down on all sides, the walls replaced by stunning views across endless plains.
Some were suspended in silent awe. Others were laughing because it was astonishing and they were bewailing their hairy hands and feet when their colleagues sported rugged stubble, and stiff upper lips melted into easy smiles whenever Takaba took over the Boardroom.
Mr Sour had already taken care of the 'business' side of things, loading them up on the facts and figures and roadmap of short-, medium- and long-term forecasts and psych analyses into VR exposure and more commercial specifics than Akihito could sit still for. Akihito was closing with a live demo, first letting them ooh and aah over the experimental headsets that looked more like skiing goggles you could see through, the lightly tinted transparent screen wrapping around the eyes. Ok, so no one in the room was prone to oohing and aahing as such, but Akihito saw their surprise that these weren't the big boxy VR headsets they knew about.
And then he'd transported them to Middle-earth and blown their minds.
One of the few women in the room, someone Akihito had never met before, a beautiful elf, turned her cool, condescending eyes to him – her expression, not the VR's.
"How does this work, Asami-sama?" Ice Elf Lady asked him.
Stocky dwarf Akihito blurted a laugh before he clamped his bearded mouth shut.
Well, that was interesting. Amusement wasn't his usual reaction to hearing his married name. It was usually more of a mini internal freak-out with his heart chasing its own shadow in crazy circles. Though maybe that had more to do with the way Asami tended to murmur it into Akihito's ear while sheathed deep... Ahem!
"Care to answer that, Asami?" Akihito turned to the tall man at the head of the table – and couldn't help but snicker at the sight of the Big Three.
The opportunity to tease them had just been too good to pass up. There was Saruman, imperiously stern with his robes and hair and beard all flowing and white, with his big magic staff, accompanied on one side by a grumpy spectacled hobbit, and a formidable Uruk-hai marked with the White Hand of Saruman on the other – but with the ugliness toned down 'cos that would've just been nasty.
Saruman arched a brow. His gaze glinted and Akihito didn't need to be a mind-reader to know what filthy avenue Asami's thoughts were travelling...
Akihito turned back to the exec. "He's Asami," he reminded, hiking his thumb at Saruman. "I'm Takaba."
Because he'd kept his... ugh, maiden name, for want of a better word, just at Sion. He wanted to get by on his own merits, not by bandying around the hefty name.
"It's OLED technology," he explained to their mountain summit, "pixels that light themselves, delivered to you in 4k Ultra HD.
"This is EverEye World. Not just Virtual Reality, not just Augmented Reality, but about people. The world you create can be real or imaginary or a smorgasbord of both, entirely virtual or superimposed on the world around you. It doesn't matter if you're here or a million miles away, you can bring people together in the same place.
"Picture Sion's next exhibitions – conferences and trade shows across multiple industries, big film conventions. We're raising the bar way up there. No more props and cardboard cut-outs. The entire venue is going to be The World, and every attendee can be any character they want. They can live it.
"But it's not just events and entertainment. Applications are as diverse as all the specialist skills in this building – training tools for high-risk jobs, simulated field training, healthcare, therapy, education, overlay information when out and about, sciences, object manipulation – the scope is literally huge. We just gotta make up our minds where we want to take it next."
"Shigura-san mentioned six to twelve months to adaptive application?" asked another hobbit eagerly further down the stone table.
"Yeah, give or take. The prototype headsets are still too heavy, you really feel it after half an hour. They need to be more like normal shades you can just sling on. And the projection coding's still glitchy. Like when I tried to turn Asami into the Eye of Sauron 'cos he should be the ultimate Dark Lord, right? But the lines kept bleeding and he kept getting eyelashes like camels..." His lips twitched. "Anyway. I had to settle for Saruman instead.
"Don't worry," he assured Asami, "Saruman's still an evil bastard who terrorizes the world from his giant tower. You're not missing out."
Those elves and dwarves new to the dynamics between them looked scandalized. The others were trying with varying degrees of success not to look (too) amused.
Akihito shrugged. "Besides, this way you can be happy holding your magical staff." He grinned to himself at his naughty little pun. Not that anyone else would get it, he was sure. And it wasn't like Asami would know about LOTR anyway, right? Right.
Wrong. "I would have been much more satisfied taking my magical staff into Helm's Deep."
Akihito froze. Colour rose up his face. Oh no please no no way...
Asami's eyes gleamed. "But the giant tower is fine. After all, we know how to drive out the White Wizard, don't we?"
Akihito spluttered. Coughed. Thumped his chest. Went absolutely crimson. They were in front of the whole Sion Board for crying out loud!
Most of the table just looked confused. Ogawa dwarf and Mr Thin elf, though, had turned an unhealthy shade of beetroot. The spectacled hobbit and Uruk-hai were doing their damnedest to pretend they weren't there.
Ice Elf Lady tilted her head. "The White Wizard?"
Dying, right there. Some others like Mr Sour were obviously catching on too, the way their eyes widened comically and they turned brilliantly bright shades.
"Aaand that's the end of the demo," Akihito choked out. He smashed some keys on the AR/VR control panel. Their screens flickered, Middle-earth faded away...
Mountains soared behind. The conference table ran along the lip of a huge dam, shoring up the vast reservoir. They were all in black combat gear, overlooking a deep ravine.
"Goldeneye!" someone recognized.
"Good spot," Akihito nodded, his voice still a little squeaky. "Your exit, if you dare – jump like James Bond. Step up to the platform there and you'll get your bungee cords. Or you can just take your headsets off now and walk out the door like a normal person and have a laugh at the others doing a tiny little jump on the floor and screaming their heads off. But try it if you can 'cos it's awesome, I promise you. Headsets in the boxes by the doors when you get there please. Give us a shout if you have any questions. That's all, folks!"
There was an outburst of applause, leaving Akihito smiling awkwardly and ducking his head.
People started gathering and talking, looking at each other, at their polished wooden conference table situated on the dam. Some approached the ledge, peering down into the ravine.
"I knew this was coming but it's still unnerving," Mr Sour muttered as he stepped onto the platform, waited as bungee cords materialised, and 'jumped'. The image of him whooshed and disappeared into the ravine. There were gasps – it was darned realistic to those wearing headsets.
"Shigura-san?" someone asked.
"I'm alive," came Mr Sour's dry reply from right in front of them. They couldn't see him, however.
People were speculating about the graphics, some more braved the 'jump' (there were some rather unmanly squawks, some laughs), and others experimented with taking the headset off and on, comparing what they were seeing.
Asami came up alongside Akihito, too close to be professional. The combat gear didn't suit Asami, Akihito thought. The bastard breezed through gunfights in his three-piece suit without getting a single crinkle; he didn't need combat gear.
Asami rumbled under breath, "Give me a sword next time. I'll reforge it in your furnace."
The flush was back with a vengeance. "Oh geez, you were just bursting, weren't you?" Akihito hissed back. "I should've known the Lord of the Rings would be included in your crash course on popular culture!"
Asami was standing so close Akihito could feel his warmth. A few people glanced over and kept their distance. Akihito made no move to step away.
"The things I do to keep up with at least half of your rambling. It's become quite the hobbit."
"Oh my god..."
Asami pressed his mouth to Akihito's ear. "I want your Ring."
Boom, crash, flames. "... What the hell kind of material have you been looking at?!"
They had furious sex by the front door – sometimes against the door, the poor guards on the other side – when Asami returned from business trips and he couldn't – wouldn't – hold off another step.
They had straightforward sex ranging from hard to rough, and they had kinky sex, not always contained in the Secret Room, as they gradually explored more and more toys in Asami's arsenal.
They had lazy sex in bed on Sunday mornings when Akihito would only be half protesting that they were missing brunch or lunch or whatever the next meal was... until he'd end up telling Asami to take full responsibility for depriving him of sustenance and make him forget his rumbling stomach.
They had steamy shower sex when Asami would make Akihito hold impossible still. Let me move! – You don't want to slip – What the hell happened to these being non-slip tiles?! – Don't. Move. An inch – Then move faster, damn it! – You demanded to slow things down – That was then! You're in now! Stop being so fucking glacial and... – And fuck you? What a filthy mouth you have – Fffff... – Why, you're trembling, Akihito. Don't tell me you can come like... this... – Unnnggghhhhhh....!
Mostly Asami would pin the blond down or corral him, but sometimes he liked to tease for days on end with a touch here, a rub there, a flash of skin here and there and everywhere. They'd both be pent up and frustrated but it was worth it just to see Akihito say hell with it and drag Asami into the bedroom.
There were plenty of times when weren't having sex. Asami would rule his vast empire from the table or the settee or in his study, and Akihito would flomp down beside him, nattering about this or that, or mumbling to himself over some coding project that he always had on the go at home unrelated to EverEye. Hours would go by, both of them comfortable doing their thing in each other's company.
Asami would usually be done – or make the executive decision that he was due some downtime – before Akihito and distract him – Stop it... – It's just a shoulder rub, Akihito – Nothing's just a shoulder rub with you, you pervy bastaaaahhhhh – or simply jump him which led to furious sex.
Actually they had a lot of angry sex – For the last time, I don't want a pay rise! or Why did I only hear about you getting attacked on the fucking news?! Which naturally led to a lot of make-up sex – I promise I'll let you give me a thorough checking over in future. With your tongue.
And then... Oh man. Then there were the times when Akihito wore Asami's shirt.
Asami had been called out at 3am. It had been building up for weeks, this deal going south. He was back 2 hours later having brought the whole issue to an abrupt and very final end.
He could appreciate ambition and drive, but he had no patience for idiocy and blind greed. Bully-boy tactics might have worked on lesser prey but they were never going to pass muster with the big boys. The whole thing had been a phenomenal waste of time, leaving a lucrative opportunity to expand into the European market on the rocks.
... Unless Asami could take control of the idiot's supply chain. His first impulse was to go in heavy but he was aware his blood was up. He wasn't in the most insightful frame of mind, he could overlook or close opportunities on himself. But he couldn't tarry too much either; he knew a certain Russian party with an eye on the same prospects. Too capable to crush or bring into Asami's fold, too dangerous to ignore, always that irritating thorn in his side...
It was dark in the condo when he returned. He paused from where he'd resisted the urge to slam the front door, picking up on Akihito tapping away on his laptop. It was a distinctive sound, the tone and pitch of the keys particular to that chunky laptop alone, as well as the intermittent louder smack of the space bar.
But the tapping was different to usual. Not so fluid. Irregular gaps. Distracted.
Closing the door silently, Asami tracked the sound down. The living room was lit by the city's night lights filling the glass veranda doors, the curtains wide open. Akihito was on the couch, his face lit by the glow of his laptop, chewing his lip over some coding.
Sharp and starched. That was Asami's collar. Akihito was on the couch, awaiting his return, wearing his shirt.
Heat punched Asami's gut, dark tendrils curling through him.
But just in case, he double checked. He strode forth on silent feet right up to the unsuspecting young man, yanked the blond head back by the hair and plunged his tongue in a fierce kiss. No warning, no warm up, just straight in there.
Spluttering, arms flailing, Akihito garbled nonsense into their joined mouths until Asami let him break free. "Mmmmphhhhey! I'm working here!"
"At 5 in the morning?"
"I... happened to be awake..."
Asami simply huffed a breath of sardonic amusement. No, the brat had been waiting for him. Wearing his shirt. Asami's voice rumbled with dark heat and warning. "When I come back, I expect you to be naked."
He smirked at the outraged indignation he left in his wake. A lot of noise but no real bite. Akihito was playing his part to perfection.
In the bedroom, he removed his jacket and all four guns, the ankle holsters and the double shoulder holsters. Really, what had the knucklehead been thinking? That bringing a dozen extra men would intimidate Asami into shaking hands on a loss? As though he, Suoh and Kirishima hadn't put down far worse. Numskull.
Flinging his waistcoat with his jacket, he returned to the living room.
Akihito froze where he'd plonked himself back at his laptop. Fully clothed.
Asami kept his face impassive. "Disobeying me, are we?" he said softly.
Asami saw the shiver course through the slender back, even as Akihito bravely jutted his jaw. "'Cos you're being ridiculous. You can't just say be naked and expect me to be naked, you know, at the drop of a... pants."
The grin wasn't entirely smothered even with the overload of petulance. Asami headed for the sideboard. Grabbing some cubes from the ice bucket, he poured himself a generous slosh of whiskey.
Leaning back on the sideboard, crossing one ankle over the other, he clinked the ice around the crystal tumbler. "Come here."
Akihito pushed to his feet. And took a step away, hitching his thumb towards the bedroom. "Uh, actually, I'm pretty beat. I'm just gonna –"
"Five, was it? Just about," Asami mused. Confusion flashed across Akihito's face. Really, the brat could hide nothing. The sleeves had been rolled up above the elbows, revealing arms that Asami wanted to pull on as he buried himself deep. He smirked with dark amusement. "You were hurting after five. How do you think six would feel? Or seven? How many times do you think you can come in a row?"
Akihito had caught on half way through, freezing up, apprehensive and shockingly turned on in equal measures.
"Come here," Asami ordered again, "unless you want to find out."
Akihito was actually tempted. He considered disobeying for all of three seconds, his breath fluttering, pupils dilating – but then the hazel eyes flickered towards Asami, searching the dark gaze, gauging... before letting himself succumb. Slamming the laptop closed, he walked over.
It was all about the shirt.
Akihito stopped a foot away.
Akihito shuffled closer, his bare toes to Asami's socked feet.
Asami let his voice drop deeper. "Cross your wrists behind you."
Hazel eyes widened. Asami could see the cogs turning as Akihito considered, for just a second, whether to make Asami work for it, how much to lock horns, but then a telltale glimmer lit through those naked eyes. Teasing and enticing it was, then. Hunger was already swirling through Asami.
With his chin lifted and cheeks bright, Akihito slowly took his arms behind him and properly crossed his wrists. Asami could see that from the way the shoulders pulled back that much further than if Akihito had just put his hands together.
Akihito hesitated. It was all in the psychology. Of course he could step to the side to come closer, but already in the mindset of teasing Asami to distraction, Akihito would know that straddling would achieve that better. But then he'd have to part his legs, which was a very specific tipping point in the balance, no matter how many times Asami had put him there.
Asami simply waited. He knew which way Akihito would go. Akihito narrowed his eyes, knowing it too, but his spirit insisted on that last space of defiance... before he eventually edged his feet on either side, his knees on the outside of Asami's.
Asami took his leisurely time studying the face in front of him – the flicker of vulnerability of holding himself in the submissive position, but the innate confidence and desire to see it through because Akihito was pulling as much as Asami was pushing. And those eyes, all challenge – have you got what it takes to subdue me? I'm quite the handful. It was always this game of control between them, offering and withholding and demanding and giving. Was it any wonder that Asami had claimed him? More, was it any wonder that Asami had let Akihito claim him in return?
"Where's my welcome home, Akihito?"
Two rapid blinks, dragging his mind out of the gutter. "Uh... Okaeri."
"Tadaima. But it's a bit late, isn't it?"
Akihito shrugged. "I would've said it earlier if you hadn't practically broken my neck and tongue-fucked me."
Asami found himself smirking. "Well you can welcome me home now. Kiss me."
Because Akihito was wearing his shirt and it was all about a whole other kind of submission, which meant Asami wasn't going to take. He was going to make Akihito give.
Akihito had two choices. Three, counting moving his hands, but Akihito wouldn't do that. He could just try and straddle higher up Asami's legs, which would be awkward with the height difference, or –
Asami hummed, a subvocal purr, as Akihito draped himself over Asami, pressing their hardening arousal against each other, face upturned, wrists still dutifully crossed behind. Akihito wasn't tall enough to close the last distance; Asami tipped his head down to let Akihito initiate the kiss.
The press of the lips still held that shade of hesitation, that shyness even now that made Asami's blood surge. Holding back a groan, he had to grip the sideboard harder on either side of himself, the tumbler still just about hanging from his fingertips, to stop from hauling the smaller man onto himself and finding the sweet, tight depths already. But the groan slipped free when a wet tongue flicked along his lip. And still he held himself receptive, making Akihito work, to pursue Asami's tongue, pushing up on his toes and pressing their bodies even closer to try and deepen the kiss.
Demanded and received, without a single restraint save for his voice and what Akihito relinquished. This wasn't total submission floating in subspace, though that had its firm place between them and Akihito was beautiful in his absolute trust and surrender. No, this was about the shirt. Submission, but only so far as Akihito decided to relinquish and how far Asami could make him give it, and only with his signature cheek, the flash of challenge still in the hazel eyes. After recolouring the canvas of their flesh so thoroughly with the seeds of their union, Asami still found it so easy, so hungry, with Akihito. This spirited man ignited the darkness inside Asami, the unquenchable desire to claim every last inch and breath and droplet of blood and corner of the soul as his.
Akihito pulled back, his lips quirking. "Okaeri," he murmured against Asami's mouth.
Asami pushed off the sideboard, the movement enough to right the smaller man back to his feet. Asami advanced, giving Akihito no alternative but to back away in turn. The back of Akihito's thighs hit the settee backrest, his hand reaching out to catch himself. Asami took one last step, towering over the blond, only a millimetre between them.
"Go to the veranda doors."
That blinking again, thinking, at the unexpected demand. "Uh –"
Asami simply narrowed his eyes.
Akihito must have seen the potent arousal, the blood simmering close to the surface, how far Asami would push tonight if he had to. The hazel eyes widened before Akihito slipped aside and rounded the couch to head for the veranda doors.
Asami rounded the couch too but he sank down onto the seat. Nursing the Bourbon, he inebriated himself on the sight of Akihito standing there backlit by moonlight and nightscape. Asami's white shirt shone bright.
"Undress for me," he rumbled.
Self-consciousness tinted through Akihito's cheeks as he glanced behind, worried if someone might be able to see, even in the darkness and across the spacious veranda and with the next tall skyscraper some distance away.
As though Asami would let anyone else see Akihito like that.
Even after Asami had seen and tasted every inch of him, Akihito hadn't quite shed his innate shyness. Perhaps he never would. It was delicious. The territorial animal in Asami headbutted its way to the fore, and alongside the darkness that had been straining at the leash even before Akihito had worn his shirt, it was quite the beast that Akihito was provoking tonight.
Not that Akihito was innocent in this. Not. At. All. He chewed one side of his lower lip in a deliberately coquettish gesture, tipping his chin down and glancing up at Asami through fluttering eyelashes, as his fingers went to the first button of the shirt.
Asami arched a brow.
Akihito guffawed. "Well, whaddya expect? Sitting there demanding Undress for me like you're some crime boss with a boy toy." His voice didn't go deep enough for the impersonation, and he also sounded too amused to pull it off.
"No. Just a crime boss who wants to feast his eyes on his husband. Undress for me, Akihito."
All amusement had fled. "You just say that with a straight face, huh?" Akihito said quietly.
He released each button in turn and it was entirely subconscious this time as he chewed his lip. He went to slip the shirt off –
"Leave it on," Asami stopped him thickly.
Akihito paused, then went for his lounge pants. Asami's lounge pants. They were already bunched around his ankles and they bunched up more as Akihito dropped them. He kicked them off.
Asami groaned, dropping his head back. Because Akihito was wearing Asami's boxers too. Which made Asami's own boxers – as in, the ones currently on his own person – even tighter.
When he looked back, Akihito was grinning. And still in those black boxers. Akihito wiggled his slender hips to shimmy out of the boxers and kicked them off too.
Eyes gleaming, sucking in a breath, Asami gorged himself on the sight. His shirt hung off Akihito's shoulders, the sleeves bunched around his elbows, the front parted to reveal the flat chest and stomach and the arousal more than half-mast. Under the shirt were legs that belonged best wrapped around Asami. Akihito didn't try to hide himself, staring back too, a little breathless, a little wide-eyed, feeling Asami's gaze warm him through. Akihito was edged silver with the moonlight striking him from behind.
It came out rough. Asami watched those expressive eyes widen further, flitting between embarrassment and blazing desire.
"How hard do you want me to take you, Akihito?"
Akihito hesitated. But Asami could see him gathering his courage like hauling at individual strands and pulling them close. So he waited, knowing Akihito acting on his own desires was worth waiting for.
With a gulp loud enough to hear, and a brief squeeze of his eyes and an inaudible mutter to himself, Akihito turned his back. Bracing one hand on the glass, with the ring glinting on the fourth finger, he stretched his legs out wide and reached behind him with his other hand...
Asami's breath stuck.
Akihito looked over his shoulder, his cheeks blushing to the bone, as he hooked a finger into his puckered hole and tugged. "You wanted my Ring, right? I... prepared myself for you."
Asami's brain actually went blank for a second, he thought. The little minx... His...
Akihito started sliding his finger free –
"Leave it in," Asami all but growled.
Akihito froze. "Huh?"
"Leave your finger right where it is. If you take it out before I tell you, it'll be eight times you'll be coming in a row."
The threat was dire enough to leave Akihito suspended on blazing embarrassment and a bucket load of lust. He obediently left the finger buried in his ass. It fuelled Asami like a drug.
Asami he reached for the lube. Bottles and tubes were scattered throughout the condo by now, always to hand in his desk, every spare bedroom, in the genkan shoe cupboard, the kitchen cupboard, down the side of the couch. Several in the limo. And his office.
His every move was deliberate and controlled because it was all he could do not to brutally claim the offering, march over and haul Akihito onto his hardness, aching and more than ready... But not yet. No matter the preparation – he had a flash of Akihito preparing and enjoying himself as Asami and his men had plugged a dozen greedy idiots full of bullets and groaned... But no matter how much Asami's blood was on fire, he had a hard limit about tearing Akihito. He wouldn't ram in without being sure Akihito could take it.
Draining the tumbler and tossing it carelessly aside, he rose, and prowled forward, as Akihito would have put it. The brat had told him about that once, the time he'd led a merry pursuit about the condo and provoked Asami into chasing him down, taunting and laughing gleefully all the while until Asami had finally forced submission.
Akihito challenged and fought back, he provoked and submitted, responding to Asami's moods and desires. There were still times when Asami was caught unawares that Akihito could read him so well. Like this shirt tonight. But this was the man that Asami had married. The one who knew how to stoke the darkness within him. Stoke... and sate.
"Where were you," Asami rumbled softly as he started sliding off his tie, "when you prepared for me?" He left the thin end in the knot so that there was still a loop and pulled it over his head.
"Uh... I was – uh, right there on the couch actually."
Something rumbled in Asami's chest. "How many fingers?"
He reached under Akihito and drew the loop around the hard arousal to the music of Akihito's fluttery breath. It was still loose, barely tight enough to hold, only just brushing the skin all around.
Asami draped the ends over the erection as well. Feather-light brushes, with little pressure. It would drive Akihito wild.
"Don't drop it," Asami warned.
Akihito breathed harder.
Asami stepped back. "Look up," he said as he started at his shirt buttons.
Akihito looked up, straight up into the veranda door, and quickly looked away again with a groan.
He was reflected brilliantly in the glass, lit by moonlight, the sky still dark beyond.
"How did you open yourself up?" Asami threw off his shirt. "Was it slow and gentle? Or did you fuck yourself with your fingers?" His trousers followed the shirt acrosss the room. "Show me, Akihito. Move your finger inside you."
The flush was suffused all across Akihito's body now, but caught between self-consciousness and arousal, he dared to arch his back just a little, met the blazing gaze in the glass, and slid his finger nearly all the way out, slid it back in again.
"I can't – I can't reach like you can..."
There was a twinkle in Akihito's eyes, a curve teasing his lips. Asami's own gaze slitted as he smirked back, sucking in a breath, letting it out on a breathy chuckle. The way Akihito deliberately provoked, when he was intimately acquainted with the ferocious hunger that resided in Asami – "You're playing with fire, my dear Akihito."
Asami enjoyed the view as he finished pulling off the rest of his clothes, sighing at the significant relief of releasing himself from the uncomfortable confines of his underwear. It wasn't often that he was nude while Akihito was clothed, but he supposed that his shirt draped on Akihito didn't count. It only enhanced the tantalizing view half covering Akihito's ass, the finger dipping inside...
Asami made quick work of lubing himself up.
He trailed the tip of his hardness against Akihito, circling the entrance where it was already a little puffy from arousal and Akihito's earlier prep – Asami was going to have to install cameras if Akihito was going to be doing that alone – and along the finger. Akihito's back arched, pushing back.
"Relax, Akihito." Asami had pitched his demand low, with a bite, and he saw the thump of Akihito's pulse. Always so responsive.
He nudged his hard length along the palm side of Akihito's finger, pushing the nail out against the ring of muscle, and pressed the head in. Small nudging thrusts, letting the muscle stretch out, slow, making Akihito feel himself extend. Akihito was panting, likely burning, but the tight round ass was still arched up, eager.
"One of these days," Asami rumbled as he kept nudging in and in, wider and wider, to the widest point. The preparation was enough, he could feel it around his engorged head, constricting hard but with enough give. "I'm using a toy on you when I'm inside. Do you think you can take two cocks, Akihito?"
There was a telling shiver and that was when Asami plunged deep the rest of the way.
The way Asami had driven in, his balls had ended up cupped in Akihito's hand. But even with the underlying tremor from the greater stretch, Akihito dutifully kept his finger inside, pressed along Asami's rock-hard length. Asami ran his hands under the shirt cast in moonlight, brushing along the slender back. Akihito shivered again, the tight ring relaxing a fraction. Asami kept soothing and caressing, occasionally pinching or scraping harder, brushing in counterpoint, as Akihito relaxed by increments.
Asami gorged on the sight in the glass reflection – Akihito was oozing.
"Shit..." Akihito muttered, eyes closed.
"And yet you're dripping."
"Squeeze," Asami demanded.
Akihito's uncertainty was broadcast in every line of his body, the slight turn of the head, his stillness.
"Hold onto me," Asami said. "Squeeze me inside."
Akihito obeyed. And then moaned at the strain, the undulating waves of sensation.
Asami growled low. "Keep squeezing until I say." He rolled his hips, savouring the tight embrace.
Akihito whimpered. But it was Akihito. He rallied, even as he trembled. "But you're so biiig..."
The overdone porno voice made Asami chuckle. "I'm big for you," he purred back, making Akihito snort.
How much did he want? How much could he take tonight?
"Harder," Asami urged.
With a shaky breath, Akihito tightened more. More precum drooled to the floor.
Asami ran a reassuring hand along the spine, riding his shirt up, and felt Akihito melt. Akihito's ass was tiring, Asami could feel the telltale tremor, but obediently still squeezing.
Such a gift. Asami had never been more grateful for anything or anyone in his life.
"Ease up," Asami told him.
Akihito still held on for another second, two, before relaxing. Because he might be submitting but he was still stubborn.
Asami smirked. "Look at me."
Akihito reluctantly raised his eyes, pinpointed on Asami in the glass.
"Keep your eyes on me, Akihito. Move your ass, make me come."
Akihito started moving, as much of his own volition as Asami's demand, rocking back and forth, just small increments to start with as he adjusted. Asami could read and feel every sensation through the play of light in Akihito's eyes – the delicious strain of fullness and feeling Asami's balls nestled in his palm when he rocked back, the hunger to be filled again when he'd rocked forwards. The tie swaying on his erection was too maddeningly light and nowhere near enough. Akihito in turn was watching the arousal creasing Asami's brow, how the golden gaze struggled to remain open, and it drove him to go faster, harder, with Asami's hands hot and hungry along his skin.
That was something else Asami had noticed. He used to think that it was when Akihito was really losing it that he shortened Asami's name. But it was happening with surprising regularity. Most times they did it, in fact.
His dear husband was using a nickname.
No one had ever given him one before. No one else had called him that. And never would, he'd long decided.
Such a breathless sound, as though he was all the air Akihito needed to live. And then Akihito squeezed, his finger crooking along the slick hardness and fingertips brushing Asami's balls –
Asami almost pitched without warning into orgasm, only clawing it back in the nick of time. If Akihito knew the effect he had on Asami, he'd never live it down.
But there was a smile dancing on the corners of Akihito's mouth, the dusk sky brightening but with still enough reflection to see by.
"I thought I told you to make me come," Asami mock growled.
"You almost did," Akihito said. Yes, he knew alright. "It's only you and your stupid cum control." He blushed at his own words.
"Is it, now?" Asami said lowly. "Take out your finger. Both hands on the glass."
Anticipation swirled through Akihito before he could bring himself to move. Wincing a little, he pulled his finger free and put up both hands.
Asami could seat himself completely now, pressing firmly into that last inch. Grasping Akihito's hips, he drew almost fully out and rammed back deep again. The first thrust almost took Akihito off his feet. The second was enough to send Akihito to his elbows and forehead to the glass.
Asami started up a steady driving rhythm, wrapping an arm around Akihito's chest, bracing against the glass himself, to not crush the smaller man, to pull Akihito closer into himself, it was all the same. He surged powerful and deep, more with every driving thrust, both pressed to the glass fogging with Akihito's panting breaths, rocking his hips on the end –
"Ggggnnnnggghhh..." Akihito was barely standing, shaking and taking what Asami gave, giving what Asami took.
That was more like it. Nuzzling Akihito's head thrown back on his shoulder, Asami murmured against the flushed ear. "See how we're locked together, how deep you take me, how you drag at me inside. Just like that, never let me go. Because you'll always be mine, my Asami Akihito."
Akihito shuddered through his entirety, as though Asami was reaching someplace even deeper than he already was.
"Ryu... Ryu..." Knowing Asami would hold him, Akihito's ringed hand came off the glass and reached over, grabbing Asami's hair and pulling him in for a messy, needy, sideways kiss.
It was the roar of the apex predator inside Asami, the beast that triumphed. But far more than simple carnal conquest, it was the satisfaction at Akihito's soul-deep fulfilment. It surged through Asami's darkness brighter than the sun that broke the horizon.
Clarity flashed through the back of Asami's mind – the Europe issue, influence and angles and openings he hadn't considered – but they were a background scratch to attend to later. Nothing could turn him from the man in his arms bathed in the golden beams of dawn. Akihito's hair shone like a halo.
But before he could comment, his words were stolen right out of his mouth.
"You're glowing," Akihito breathed into the heated space between them.
Asami smirked with deliberate arrogance. "Because I'm looking at you."
Akihito gasped through his laughter as Asami chased their release, thrusting home.
"Ridiculous... corny... baka... Nnnhh... Fuck that's good..." Akihito held him tighter, with his arms and deep at his core. "Ryu... Fill me up, paint me inside, mark me yours –"
Asami readily came apart.
Akihito was grinning. Smug. Way too smug, hazel eyes bright from more than the morning sun.
Asami's eyes narrowed.
Akihito just grinned wider, almost splitting his face in two. "You came. Before me. Before me!" He whooped the loudest, most obnoxious whoop ever – which promptly turned into a yelp as Asami pulled out and tossed him over the broad shoulder.
"Clearly I need to redress your lack of satisfaction. How many times would make it even, would you say?"
"T-times? How many... No no no! None! Let's go with none!"
"None is hardly a fair exchange for one. It can't be helped, I'll decide for you –"
"Ok one! One's good!"
"One? Very well, if you insist. I'll give you one... one entire day of pleasuring each other. Doesn't that sound good?"
"Wh– th– you're crazy! You're gonna kill me! Wait – why're you going that way?! Asami!"
Kirishima was attempting to smoke out an elusive contact when a message pinged up in a little used personal inbox. Only a very select few had the contact email – plus one notable other who'd availed himself of it without so much as a by your leave.
Hey Mr Khaki-san! ;P
That was no surprise. However the A–D voting buttons that came with the message was unexpected. Kirishima knew the value of investing the time and effort to read these emails now, but he still had to mentally fortify himself.
So I heard from our friend Artemis who tells me that she's stalking some Russian fop, I'm calling him Mr Magenta Amaranth (which makes him pink pink! ha!). So Mr Magenta thinks he's hacked into Mr Asparagus' uh... let's call it Risky Toys Factory Records. But he's actually kicking around in the back-end of Nowhere Town with an exit to Nowhere Ville simulated by our lovely goddess Artemis.
This might be a good time to tell you I've been busy... I've evolved Artemis into a full-fledged cyber super-guardian! Not just search, contain and mimic, though she can still do that and a whole lot better than before. But she can infiltrate and target now too, which means dispensing our own form of justice. Which means options!
Do you want to A – Tap into Mr Magenta's security surveillance feed and watch clandestine meetings? Artemis is offended by him wearing fuck all right now though so you might wanna avert your eyes. Or distribute the video widely. Your choice. But we're not crude are we? No sir. We can superimpose a colourful flying elephant in a strategic place. He's bound to appreciate us protecting his modest modesty, right? [Angel emoji]
Or B – Nose around his hard drive a bit. Or maybe a lot. Actually Artemis already started a download dump 'cos she's a compulsive data hoover, she tells me there's some seriously juicy shit in there. I'm convinced she's a bit of a bitch at heart. Maybe she takes after her creator... Ha. [Winking emoji]
Or C – Mr Magenta needs to learn to leave Mr Asparagus the fuck alone. I don't mean business, I'm not touching that with a barge pole. I'm talking risk to his person. Mr Titanium's got his back and this kinda shit ain't gonna fly no more.
Every day, Artemis is going to hunt Mr Magenta down, and no matter what computer or phone or tablet he tries to sneak off to, he's gonna be on digital lockdown until he gives the password of our choosing. Out loud. She'll connect to the mike, verify voice recognition, set a minimum decibel reading to pass. He just has to start every single day by yelling "Asami rules!" (or whatever we want to make him shout, "My dick is puny!" ? or even a hearty song!) then he can go his merry way. Until the next day when it all happens again. For however long until we decide he's learned his lesson. I know, hardcore, right? [Tongue out emoji] Artemis can't MAKE him, of course, but he'd be locked out of all phones and anything computer-like until he does. How long before he caves, do you think? And if he goes apeshit and tries to come back at us, well that's what option D's for.
So D – Do all three. Surveillance, leverage, sentence, in a nutshell.
You know the one you want to go for. Go for it Mr Khaki-san. Go on. Do it. Do it!
Oh and see you later – you and Mr Saffron are still coming for dinner right? Failure is not an option. I know the sprinkler system ruined it last time but you can totally blame Mr Asparagus for that!!! Him and aprons, I don't get the fascination. Just keep him away until dinner's all ready and Mr Saffron won't have to come charging in again. [Monkey hiding face]
Mr Titanium [Cool shades emoji]
... Kirishima took a moment to breathe. Interacting with the young man was always like being thrown through a hurricane. Twice. And he wasn't sure he'd ever quite get used to what the unassuming tech genius was capable of. Or his... 'nascent' cooking skills. Asami never seemed to have any complaints, however, so it certainly wasn't Kirishima's place to comment. Not that that ever stopped Suoh from finding some way of teasing about it.
Kirishima scrolled back up to the voting buttons. He knew the one he wanted to choose, to the point of considering whether he could 'accidently' make the selection before forwarding the message to his boss... And if a twitch of a grin broke through his cast-iron demeanour at picturing Mikhail Arbatov's apoplectic rage over his daily yelling, it was a secret he'd take to the grave.
Asami Ryuichi and Akihito together? The world wasn't going to know what had hit it.