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A Slippery Situation

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Title: A Slippery Situation
Author: SkyFire (rabid_plotbunny)

Pairing: Asami/Takaba, Kirishima/Takaba?
Rating: PG13
Summary: A sprained ankle, an overzealous bodyguard, and a perverted crime lord make things a bit difficult for poor Akihito....
Warnings: crack!fic.

Notes: I re-read all of Viewfinder last week after being away from fandom for a few years (darn you, RL!). Then one night, I had a dream... and I just had to write it down. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Recognizable characters belong to Yamane Ayano, not me. I'd love to talk shop with Akihito, though!


"Kirishima!" Akihito yelled, finally reaching the rock-bottom end of his usually easygoing patience. "I know that you're probably doing this because that bastard ordered you to, but if you don't get out of my kitchen and let me cook in peace, I will hurt you!"

Kirishima, nearly at the end of his own not inconsiderable stash of patience, barely managed to hold back a glare as he --once again-- liberated a cooking utensil from the brat's hand, gently nudged him aside --again!-- and took his place at the stove --also again!-- and started stirring the food in the pan. "I cannot allow that, Takaba-san. Asami-sama's orders."

"It's a sprained ankle, not a broken leg!" the boy argued. "It doesn't even hurt that much!"

"Nonetheless, I have my orders. Please go sit down and I will bring you your food shortly."

"How? It's missing half the ingredients and you don't even know what it is! Get out of my kitchen!"

"You mean Asami-sama's kitchen, and no."

"Argh! You asked for it!"




They struggled back and forth across the kitchen, both fighting for control of the spatula. They had just slammed into the countertop for the --third? fourth?-- time when it happened.

One of the cupboards above them popped open and a big plastic gallon jug tumbled free, hitting the next shelf down in its plummet.

That impact had two very unexpected consequences.

The first was that the bump was enough to trigger a small cascade of perhaps a dozen brightly-colored objects from the same shelf the jug had been on.

The second was that the jug's cap --apparently screwed on incorrectly by the last person to use it-- popped right off even as the impact sent the jug spinning. Its contents sprayed out with disgusting ease, completely dousing the struggling men in its path before bouncing, practically empty, off one and landing with a hollow-sounding thud and a splat in the new puddle on the floor.

Akihito and Kirishima froze in surprise at the sudden drenching, flinching slightly at the unexpected rain of colorful things, staring at each other in shock, spatula all but forgotten.

The photographer tried to push the other man away, only to find his hands sliding slickly in the goo that plastered the other man's suit to his body, as well as slicked them both from the hair down. "What the-?" he cursed, staring at the stuff on his hands. Finally recognizing it, he glared. "What kind of pervert buys lube by the gallon?!" Another thought struck him. "And why the hell is it in the kitchen?!"

Kirishima, pulling together the ragged remains of his dignity, tried to straighten only to have his feet slide out from under him as dress socks met lube puddle and lost. Flailing for purchase, he grabbed hold of Akihito only to unbalance him in turn. They skidded across the kitchen to slam into the counter on the far side, Kirishima slamming into it first, followed almost instantly by Akihito. It was then, bent facedown over the countertop with Takaba plastered to his back, his privates screaming from the doubled impact with an inconveniently-placed cupboard handle, that he realized that he had, in his quick and ill-fated grope for stability, seized one of those colorful things.

The biggest, bumpiest, pinkest vibrator he'd ever seen.

He dropped it with a strangled curse.




"Get in here," Akihito said stubbornly. "You stay in that half, I'll stay in this half, and Asami never has to know."

"Know what, my Akihito?" Asami said darkly as he pushed his way into the bathroom. He took in the scene before him, face blank as it only ever was just prior to an explosion.

Standing naked in Asami's shower near where an equally-naked Akihito lounged in the bath, Kirishima saw the lack of expression and knew death was imminent. Blood drained from his face as he acknowledged how everything must look. He had intended to have everything cleaned up before the other man returned home, but hadn't yet had the chance.

He was dead.

He fell to his knees on the shower-warmed tile and bowed until his head touched the floor. A glob of lube slid from his hair down the side of his face to drip from his nose to the tile with an almost inaudible splat. "A-Asami-sama! It is not as it seems, I swear it!"

He thought back to the wreck of the kitchen; the huge puddle of lubricant on the floor, down the sides of the cupboards, pooled on countertops with clearly-visible --and unmistakeable-- handprints in two distinct sizes. The empty jug on the floor. The colorful sex toys scattered randomly on the floor and countertops, at least one with his own lube-y handprint on the business end. He was almost certain that he also recalled them having tripped on some on their way out of the kitchen to the bathroom, sending the offending object skittering out into the living room. He thought of the lube they'd both been dripping all the way to the bathroom, the incriminating handprints when one or the other's slickened socks had slipped on the polished hardwood floor and they'd instinctively tried to brace themselves on the walls. And now, with their clothing lying in discarded lube-y heaps from the doorway to the shower... he and Akihito both stark naked in the water...

Yes, he was dead.

Another glob of lube plopped off his nose. Was the damned stuff waterproof?!

He stayed silent after his initial protest. He knew what it looked like. He could also recall several instances when someone had actually been stupid enough to go against Asami. Their pleas and declarations of innocence had done them no good. If these were to be his final moments, he would at least keep his dignity!

...or at least, as much dignity as he could muster covered in slimy lube and kneeling naked in his boss' shower.

Funny; while he'd always known that he might one day meet his end in Asami-sama's service, he'd never pictured it quite like this. Where was the moment he heroically pushed Asami out of the path of a bullet only to be tragically shot himself? Or hit by a speeding car, or poisoned...? This... this was so....

Splat! Just how much damned lube had ended up in his hair, anyway?!


"A-Asami!" Akihito blurted, face going red. "Y-you're home early!"

Kirishima manfully held back a wince and held his tongue. The kid really did have no sense of self-preservation!

"Akihito," Asami growled ominously. "I'd ask if you missed me, but I can see Kirishima has kept you... entertained."

"He's been driving me crazy, you mean," the boy spat with a glare. "He's been glued to me all day! Whenever I turned around, there he was. He wouldn't leave me alone! All day, Asami!"

Yes, it was a good life, Kirishima thought, trying in vain to bow even lower. Sorry, Mom, Dad...

"Did he?" came the dark growl from Death Incarnate.

"Yes! And he wouldn't let me finish anything! I'm not an invalid! Some times a guy wants to do things for himself, you know, and he wouldn't let me!"

By the gods, the kid really had no sense of self-preservation. Or Kirishima-preservation, at least....

"Even in the kitchen! Did you see my poor kitchen?" A pause. "Oh, crap, did I leave the stove on? No, there's no smoke. Phew, that was close!"

"I saw the kitchen."

There it was, the four words that spelled his doom. Maybe they'd put it on his gravestone: 'Asami saw the kitchen'.

"So we were totally covered in lube and came here to clean up before you got back, but you're early!"

"So I am. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Say? I've been saying it!"

"And how long has this been going on?"

"What? I told you. Since today! You ordered him to!"

Asami glared down at his assistant where he still knelt on the floor under the spray from the shower. The water skittered across bare skin and hair without soaking in. Just what had the two of them been up to to get lubricant on the back of his head...? "I'm quite certain I did not."

"What? He said you did!"

"He said that I ordered him to fuck you in the kitchen?"

Akihito blinked, mouth opening and closing like a fish in his shock. The blush that had been slowly fading returned full force. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I told you I've seen the kitchen, my Akihito," the older man said with a golden glare. "That much lube... that many vibrators... You and Kirishima were quite... adventurous, I see."

"I... that... that's not... You pervert! I didn't do anything with Kirishima!" A small pause, then: "And he didn't do anything with me, either!"

"You're denying it?"

"Hell, yeah!"

"Lying will do you no good," the crime lord growled. "I've--"

"--seen the kitchen. Which reminds me, you bastard. Who the hell keeps a gallon of lube and a collection of sex toys in the kitchen?! Who does that?! And by the gallon! Really?!"

Asami blinked, surprised by Akihito's rant. "I--"

"And then you start thinking that I must have gotten 'adventurous' with the drone you left to babysit me! What the hell?"

As much as being called a drone belittled just how much he actually did for Asami, Kirishima kept silent. For the first time since Asami entered the bathroom, there was the faintest glimmer of hope that he might just come out of this alive and he wasn't going to jinx it!

"You both are covered head to toe in lube."

"Your lovely gallon of lube fell out of the cupboard and sprayed all over us!"

"And I suppose the sex toys threw themselves at you as well," came the sarcastic reply.

"Yes, actually, they did. Why are you storing that crap in the kitchen?? You have a whole secret room just for that stuff! I make food in the kitchen!"

"I believe you," Asami said blandly.

"You do?"

"Yes. One of the vibrators flew at me and tried to jump down my throat when I came in."



"...Oh. Oh! Are you making fun of me? You jerk! It's what happened! Just ask Kirishima!"

"Of course it is," Asami said, blatantly ignoring Takaba's suggestion.

"We were fighting over the spatula... I don't even know where it ended up, now that I think about it... Anyways, we were fighting over it, crashed into the cupboard, and the next thing I knew it was raining lube and vibrators! We looked like the main characters in some perverted porno! A gallon, Asami?!"

"You do go through a lot of it."

"But a gallon?"

"They were out of barrels."

"Barrels?!" Akihito almost strangled getting the word out. His face and ears were so red they should be glowing. "You don't need a barrel of it!"

"If you say so," Asami agreed. "It's your ass."

"Good! Wait, what? I never said 'Don't use lube'! I said 'You don't need a barrel of it'! And while we're talking about that, learn how to screw on the cap! If you had done it right, I wouldn't be in this mess!"

"The cap wasn't what I was focusing on screwing, as I recall...."

"Asami...." It was Akihito's turn to growl.

"Speaking of which," Asami said huskily, a familiar gleam coming to his eyes, "are you all clean now?"

"What? Oh. Not really," the photographer stammered from the unexpected question. "The damn stuff is waterproof or something. I'm still all slimy...."

"Good," came the smug reply. One hand reached out to the boy, pulled him gently but inescapably from the bath. A cursory pat-down with a fluffy towel, then he pulled him to him. "We shouldn't waste it, then."

They were nearly out of the room when Asami remembered they weren't alone. He looked back to Kirishima, still unmoving on the floor of the shower. "Get cleaned up. Have Suoh bring you a change of clothes, and I expect the mess to be cleaned up before I get up."

"Yes, Asami-sama. Thank you, Asami-sama."

"And Kirishima? If this ever happens again, I'll kill you."

"...Yes, Asami-sama."



When Suoh showed up with a change of clothes nearly an hour later it was to find Kirishima in the middle of cleaning up a highly pornographic mess in Asami's kitchen, dressed only in his underwear. Thanks to the layers of his suit, the lube bath had only managed to dampen the waist a little and they were mostly dry. Dry enough, anyway, and the alternative was a towel...

Suoh handed over the duffle bag of clothing, eyes skipping from puddle to vibrators to handprints to nearly-naked coworker and back.

...He was pretty sure he didn't want to know.