Shot?

Hazel eyes slowly opened, unfocused at first, then taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Not that waking up in a room he didn’t recognize was anything new anymore. Not really. He tried moving carefully, aware of the various levels of pain coursing through the entire length of his body.



A sigh.



Of course, he couldn’t move. His hands were bound. He choked out a resigned laugh. A bitter one. Did they think to scare him by tying him to a bed in the nude? As if that would surprise him. He tried to lift his head to look around, but after he moved it up an inch, he tiredly let it sink down into the soft pillow again. At least it was a comfortable bed. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.



Asami was dead.



He tried to remember the look on the Yakuza’s face when he jumped in front of him to shield him from the bullets. But he got hit. And the last thing he saw was Asami crumbling to the floor. They had shot him. Damn those bastards. They had no right…

Another harsh laugh, his throat raspy and raw. It hurt.



He felt tears escaping from under his closed eyelids, searing their way down his cheeks into the pillow. Now that he was awake they would come for him soon. They always did. Only now, there was nothing for him to fight for. Not anymore. Damn the bastard. Why did he have to die on him?



If they thought to break him, let them try. They would find out soon enough that there was nothing left of him. Like the Chinese bastard did. When he stopped fighting him, Feilong lost interest in him. Without fighting, he wasn’t even good enough to be a fuck-toy. So, he wouldn’t fight. And maybe this once he would be lucky enough and they’d kill him. He was so tired of this bullshit.



His mouth was dry and his throat was killing him. He lifted his head up again and saw a glass of juice standing on the low table next to the bed. He tried to reach over, only to find that the leather binds would not allow him to touch it. Hands balled into fists. What kind of sick joke was that?



Again he fell back into the pillow, desperately trying to not to cry. If he would just have the strength to go on. He took a deep breath. The soft material underneath him held a familiar smell. A faint trace of a well-known cologne, and the much more intense aroma of musky male. Asami. Damn. He was finally going insane. The guys that had taken him from Feilong were definitely not Asami’s. So, he…



His thoughts were interrupted by an indiscernible click of the door. He went still. Pretending to sleep seemed like the best thing to do right now. Not that he cared, but still…



****



Asami went into the bedroom after having completed most of his work to check on his pet. He was still out of it. He sat down at the side of the bed, looking at his watch. Yep, there was no help for it. It was that time again.



Carefully, as not to disturb him, he rolled his boy to his side, grimacing upon seeing the dried and chafed lips. The fever had made Akihito sweat and he needed to replace the fluid in his body. Just thinking about fluid made him hard again. He groaned, took the glass of orange-juice and took a deep drink. He pulled the kitten up and pressed his lips against his mouth, his tongue forcing it open to release the replenishing liquid into it.



Akihito struggled a bit at first, but then seemed to welcome the refreshment and greedily swallowed. Well, there was no helping it. He repeated the procedure several times until the glass was empty and he was ready to burst. Just from feeling his lips. While he was asleep. With fever. Stupid brat.



Again he slid the covers off the boy, pulled him halfway over his lap, took the little tube and twisted off the cap. He generously spread the lubricant over his finger and unerringly found the tightly puckered entrance he was about to invade. Massaging the tense muscle thoroughly, he found himself painfully aroused just from touching the boy.



“You will so pay for this, my pet.”



His finger dug deeply into the soft tissue, deep enough to loosen it, yet shallow enough to not hurt him. When he felt the muscle give in, he slipped inside the velvety depth, unerringly seeking the walnut sized gland and gently rubbing it. Akihito’s middle was on his lap, and soon enough he could feel the boy’s penis harden. Against its steely confines. The ones Feilong had put on him. Which would prevent him from finding release. But he had to admit, they looked... hot. His finger traced the one inch thick metal band around the base of Akihito’s shaft, connected with a solid padlock to another one around the soft sac that held his testicles, pushing them down. Cursing he pulled his hand back; stimulating his pet now would only cause him pain.



“Maybe we will keep them for you to play with.” He smiled. His slutty boy would know how to appreciate them. Maybe he should send a thank-you note to Feilong.



He took the suppositories and went to the torturous task of giving them to his kitten. Ever so slowly he inserted the first one, savoring the feel of Akihito’s insides gripping his intruding finger, pulling it in deeper and deeper.



*****



What the hell? This couldn’t be. But it sounded like… and felt like… and smelled like.



“ASAMI! You bastard! Leave me…”



He tried to scramble away from the offending finger deeply buried inside his upturned ass. Without success. A large hand kept him where he was; in fact it pulled him closer.



“You’re awake.” He was crushed against a broad chest, finger still in place. Hot lips scorched his, teeth erotically nibbling them open until a tongue delved in, slowly taking possession of his mouth, devouring him, marking him. Overwhelmed by the familiar taste of Asami, Akihito responded to the sensual dance of their tongues, leaving him even dizzier. Panting he tore away from Asami’s mouth, desperately sucking in much needed air. His head fell on the taller man’s shoulder, exposing the sexy curve of his neck. He felt hot lips latch onto the soft spot just below his ear, sucking hard, making him moan.



“No, stop… Asami… you…” He could hardly talk. Asami was alive, grinding his hard-on against his groin and sucking the little energy he had left right out him.



Lips formed a heated trail down the slope of his neck, nibbling, biting, licking. There was no stopping now. He had to have his pet. His finger started to rub his sweet spot faster, making the boy squirm and moan in his arms.



“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.” Pain. It shot through his backside, searing his ass like a lightning bolt. He felt himself fall backwards, just to be caught in strong arms before he hit the mattress. He felt the intruding digit slip out and then Asami gently lowered him down on the bed, eyes still blazing with unleashed desire.



“I need to give you the painkillers.” They locked eyes.



“Where…? How…? I…” A soft kiss to his lips.



“Later. You need your medication first.” Again he turned him on his side, a finger searching between two perfect cheeks.



“You pervert! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Akihito yelled at the top of his lungs. In reality, it came out rather pathetic, but it was all he could manage in his condition.



Asami leaned down over him, crowding him into the mattress.



“Giving you your medicine…” Smirking he pushed his finger back into his boy’s rosy ass and as before, took his time doing it.



“I’m awake now. There is no need…”



A face so close to his, he felt Asami’s breath on his face.



“Every four hours. Doctor’s prescription.”



“No, I…”



“You! Will do. Exactly. What the doctor said.” Slowly the finger inched back out of his body, once more rubbing over his prostate before it was finally gone. A shocked gasp escaped Akihito’s lips, cutting off any remark.



He was alive. The god damned bastard was alive.



“You are probably hungry; I’ll order something up for you.” Asami straightened himself, keeping one hand on Akihito’s lower back, while the other one flipped the phone open.



“No! I…”



“You will eat.” He quickly gave his chef instructions to prepare a light dinner for the patient.



A hand, strong, large, annoyingly on his skin. Holding him. Down.



“I’m thirsty.” The hand left his back, gliding down his waist and almost -gently? – rolled him on his side again. A glass was pressed against his lips.



“If you untie me, I can do this myself.”



A glare. Golden eyes staring at him. A touch. Elegant hands unlocking the cuffs.

Rubbing his hands, Akihito impatiently reached for the glass with orange-juice, only to almost drop it. He felt pathetic. Other hands, warm and strong, folded around his’, carefully guiding the glass back to his lips. While he eagerly drank the contents of the glass, he couldn’t prevent silvery tears rolling down his face. He was weak. Disgustingly weak. And pathetic. Asami despised weakness.



When he had emptied the glass, it was taken away from him and he found himself again engulfed in the warmth of Asami’s body. He was cradled against his chest; a hand was slowly rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.



“Shh. It’s alright, kitten. You’re safe.” Asami murmured nonsensical words in his pet’s ear, comforting him, holding him. He expected the boy to be in a turmoil of emotions after what he had endured.



Akihito was sobbing into his chest, soaking the silk shirt, plastering it against defined pecs.



“I… thought… you… were… dead.” He started hiccupping, burying his running nose deep into the reassuring hardness of Asami’s collarbone.



“It’s okay, Akihito. Everything is okay now.”



****