Shot?

Part 23



The sinister looking convoy stopped right at the main entrance of the Ritz-Carlton at exactly ten minutes after two in the afternoon. Asami was aware that Feilong would be just now exchanging meaningless pleasantries with Yoshinori and whatever other representatives of the Yamaken-Gumi would be there and definitely did not count on him to somewhat ease the tension by dropping by.



Trademark smile in place, he exited the car and strode into the reception area, as if he owned the place. Which he did. At least a large part of it. It only took a small signal for the receptionist to come running towards him, subserviently greeting him and his strange entourage.



“Liu-sama is holding the meeting in the Hinokizaka tea-room, Asami-sama. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I would show you the way?” The day-manager led the group of men towards one of the private elevators, unperturbed by the strange looking guy in the trench-coat who evidently was part of Asami’s assembly.



The express elevator took only a couple of seconds to reach the 45th floor of the building and opened its doors soundlessly to admit the men into the Hinokizaka. The mâitre’d greeted them politely while the day-manager excused himself hurriedly; glad to be able to go back to the ground-floor. Even though he only had met the business-man twice before, he knew Asami was not someone to be dealt with easily.



The head-waiter paused in front of two closed doors, turning to Asami for his approval. A short nod was all he needed to open the doors wide, letting the men file past him while he announced them.



“Liu-sama, the rest of your party has arrived.” He quickly closed the door after the last person had stepped inside the traditional looking tea-room, not wanting to know or see what would happen inside. All he hoped for was that the tea-room would not have to be redone completely after the meeting. And that they would keep the noise down.



Inside, a pair of grey eyes glared daggers at the unwelcome intruders.



“What the hell are you doing here, bastard?”



“Tstststs… Feilong, language. We don’t want your potential business-partners think badly about you.”



The slender Chinese jumped up and stalked over to the Yakuza, exuding resentment in strong waves.



Ignoring the anger wafting from the Ice-princess, Asami plastered a fake smile on his face, and walked to greet his opponent, pretending to ignore the presence of Yoshinori and his clan.



“Well, I thought after I received that urgent call from you this morning that I better make sure to be here as early as possible to fulfill your request. You sounded so desperate.”



“Desperate? What the hell are you talking about?” Feilong almost screamed now.



“You said you wanted the item you ordered in prime condition, and I didn’t want to take the risk of it wilting until tonight. So, here is the boy-toy you wanted, all decked out to your specifications. Yoh?”



With that, Yoh pulled the trench-coat off the tall Russian, revealing him in all his glory. Shocked, Feilong staggered back a few steps, trying to take in the freaky sight of the blonde, dressed in a short little dress, looking utterly miserable.

Feilong didn’t even hear the snickers from the men of the Yamaken-clan, who were clearly amused by the strange on-goings.



“You! What…? I never…”



“No need to be bashful, Feilong. After all you are among friends. We don’t mind your kinky interests; just try to give me a bit more time in advance. It is really hard to find guys interested in your little perverted games.”



Feilong did the only thing he could think of at this moment. He screamed. Pouring his rage over the humiliating display Asami had forced on him, into one single shriek.

“Now, calm down, Feilong. It is nice to see you getting so excited over him, but you really should try to contain yourself at least until you reached your room. There you can unwrap him, taking all the time you need. See, we even put a little red bow on him.” He made attempts to lift the front of the skirt, only to be stopped by the irate Chinese.



“You. Are. Dead. This time I’ll kill you myself.”



“Why, did you wish for another color? I can send one of my men to get another for you. What will it be? Blue? Black? Just say it.”



Before he could give Asami an angry retort, he was interrupted by the clearing of a throat.



“It seems, Liu-sama, that it would be best for us to postpone our meeting. You seem a bit occupied at the moment.”



“No, wait Yoshinari-san. I didn’t… I mean… Asami… I did not order that.“



“Are you telling me now Feilong, that you did not ask me to bring you Arbatov? I can clearly remember several phone-calls regarding this matter.”



“Yes, no… You… I need a gun. I’ll fucking shoot you. Somebody get me a gun.NOW!”



“Temper, my dear friend, temper. As promised here is your boy and now I want the key for mine.”



“Fuck you.”



“I’m pretty sure you will want to rethink that. I cannot imagine that you would risk a nice little war over something like this. And make no mistake: if you break our deal, there will be a war.” Asami’s voice did not sound amused anymore.



“Just kill him, Feilong. My father will reward you.” The tall Russian sidled up to the Chinese, ultimately accentuating his strange get-up by being so close to the immaculately dressed man.



“Shut up, you asshole. You’re in deep enough shit as it is.”



“The key, Feilong. You are wasting my time.” The words were clipped, the voice emotionless. Everybody who had to deal with the powerful Japanese knew that this was the best time to get lost. Fast.



As if on cue, the Yamaken-Gumi had proceeded to the door, bowing in respect to the two men and quietly leaving the war-zone.



Normally it would have amused Asami to watch the mighty leader of Baishe to throw one of his hissy-fits, but at this point he was just plain annoyed. He wanted to go home and care for his pet. The poor kitten probably felt lonely and neglected.



“I’ll get you for this, you bastard.”



“Sure, Feilong. And if you’re done pms-ing yet, let’s get back to business. The. Key. Feilong. Now.”



“You… you…” Furiously he ripped the tiny key out of a hidden pocket of his cheongsam, throwing it at Asami.



He easily caught it. Finally. Not bothering about the enraged Feilong any longer, he briskly turned and left the room, leaving Arbatov to his fate at the hands of the still screaming long-haired harpy.



*****



Akira hurried ahead to the apartment, hoping to brief Keita before Asami would be up. His boss had decided to stop at the club, before retiring for the day.

He opened the door – just to close it again. This was so not happening. He took a deep breath, once again pulled the door open and stepped inside. He was well known to always keep a cool head no matter what the situation, but this was definitely too much to handle.



There was a snow-storm in the living-room. The floor in front of him was covered in white fluffy material while big flocks of it were dancing through the air. He could hardly see anything beyond his own shoes.



“Next.” The voice was definitely Akihito’s.



“Nope. You know the deal. Give me that one back and I’ll let you have another.” Keita was obviously a part of this insane scenario as well.



“Stingy bastard. Hand it over.” Nothing but white for a few seconds.



“Here, you bastard, take this… and this… and another… you perverted prick… I’ll show you…”



The blizzard inside the apartment gained in intensity.



“This will teach you, you asshole… didn’t see that one coming; did you…? “



Slowly making his way towards the voice, Akira cautiously approached the photographer.



Who was sitting on the couch, slicing away at the expensive furniture, ripping the padding out and throwing it into the air. Stupid brat.



“What the hell is going on here?”



Startled, Akihito stopped slashing the couch while Keita looked decidedly uncomfortable, holding a vast array of knives in one hand.



“Akira. You’re back already?”



“Where is that bastard-boss of yours?” Akihito almost jumped at the younger body-guard, only held back by Keita.



“Now, now, Aki-chan. We made a deal. You can have the couch, but you can’t have Asami-sama.” The tall Blonde kept a firm hold on the struggling boy.



“Are you both out of your mind? Asami will be here in a few minutes.”



“Good.” Akihito’s voice sounded blood-thirsty. Very blood-thirsty.



“Time’s up then. Hand over the knife, Aki-chan.”



“Nooooo… I want it, just a little bit longer…” The photographer tried to move away from Keita, without any success.



“Give me the knife. We agreed you will not have any sharp objects on you, when Asami-sama is coming home.”



“Oh, please… just a little one… come on, he deserves it…” He sounded pitiful.



“Stop it! Both of you! Now!” This was too much. He glared at the unlikely couple in front of him, trying to put as much authority into his voice as possible.



“Keita, what the hell are you doing?”



“Well, after Aki-chan found out about his new ‘status’ he sort of had an episode. And I thought it best to let him vent it before Asami-sama returns.” He did omit the fact that the slender boy almost stabbed himself to death. Only his quick reaction prevented the knives from doing physical harm to Akihito, slashing into the couch instead. The shock almost had the young man knocked to his knees, and it did sober him up pretty fast. Nothing better to get a clear head then facing imminent death. Akihito had profusely thanked him for saving his life, and the tall giant had used his gratitude as a leverage to strike a deal. The photographer would hand over the knives, but he could vent his anger on the couch, using one knife after the other, under Keita’s supervision. And he had. The once exclusively designed seating, made on special order for Asami by one of the world’s most renowned designers had died a rather tragic death.



“We need to clean this up fast before Asami-sama sees it…” Akira said, looking rather helpless at the mess surrounding them.



“…sees what…?” The words reverberated loudly, cutting through the room, making the three men inside go still. Deathly still.



Asami was home. As in: ASAMI. WAS. HOME.



Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit and double shit.



It took only a few seconds for Asami to locate the culprit of the devastation. The pet. His delicious, soon to be severely punished pet. His cranky kitten, obviously in desperate need to be thoroughly disciplined. He really was glad that he had stopped by Sion on his way up, to make sure he wouldn’t be disturbed for the rest of the day. Well, they would just have to make do until tomorrow night. At least until tomorrow night.

He threw his coat over the tattered remains of his once custom-made couch, his eyes never leaving the perpetrator of the mess before him. Damn, he really had liked the couch too… His cute little kitten would so pay for it. In moans, screams, sighs and whatever other sounds he would torture out of him.



“Akihito? In the bedroom. Now!” Like a predator stalking his prey he made his way towards the photographer.



“Forget it… you bastard!” Defiant eyes locking with his. Oh yes, he would enjoy the disciplining – it was long overdue anyways.



“I think you should re-evaluate that comment.” The voice sounded sharper than the knife he held in his hands.



“No! You… you pervert. Keita told me…” He was cut off in mid-sentence.



“… that you belong to me now? He is right. You are mine to do with as I please. Now. Go. To. The. Bedroom. I will deal with your punishment in a little while.”



Akihito gulped nervously, not knowing how to deal with the man before him. He had wanted to fight with him, demand his freedom, curse him, even attack him. However, the tall Yakuza exuded an aura of danger, more threatening than anything he had ever been exposed to before in his dealings with him. He risked a quick glance at the body-guards – both had gone deathly pale. Shit. Had he gone too far? Should he have tried to deal with the situation like an adult for once in his life? Looking down at his hand still holding the blade and the long gashes he had inflicted on the leather, he suddenly wished he would have restrained himself instead of giving in to one of his childish temper tantrums.



Golden eyes still stared at him, harbingers of his imminent doom. He swallowed. All of a sudden he didn’t feel all that well anymore. He swallowed again. A hand lightly touched his shoulder, making him gasp in surprise. Keita held out his hand, palm up, silently prompting him to give him the knife. Which he did. With shaking hands he relinquished his weapon under the watchful gaze of his torturer.



The Blonde looked decidedly uncomfortable, his only response to Akihito’s pleading look, was an almost invisible move of his head in direction of the bedroom-door.

Still not ready to give up, Akihito turned back to Asami.



“I...” Again he couldn’t finish his sentence.



“BEDROOM. NOW!”



And he did instinctively the only thing that came to his mind: he ran. He scrambled over the back of the couch, zig-zaging to the deceiving safety of the bed-room. He yanked the door open, threw himself inside and closed it with a loud bang. Sighing in relief, he leaned against if for a second, hoping it would keep him safe and alive for just a while longer. Shit.



*****



As soon as the door closed, Asami turned his attention back to his two subordinates, both looking unquestionably miserable. He stared at them silently, his gaze never wavering. He ignored their uncomfortable twitching, the way they shifted their weight from one foot to the other, evidently embarrassed to be thought part of the incident by their boss.



Keita almost groaned out his discomfort, knowing that as brilliant his idea seemed to be, his boss didn’t really looked thrilled. No, thrilled did definitely not describe the cold, ominous look directed at him. And he had thought his day couldn’t get worse.



“So, care to tell me what the hell happened here?” Even his voice sounded cold. He was so dead.



“Keita?”



Once again shifting to his other foot, the tall Blonde took a deep breath. Well, here goes all or nothing…



“Well, you see, Asami-sama, this is what happened…” He tried his best to not get the young photographer into more trouble when he retold the events of the day. He didn’t leave out any of the details, not once trying to omit his part in the whole affair, willing to take the blame for his faulty judgment. And for not locking the knives away.



“… I thought it to be best to let him vent his anger here; taking him down to the gym was not an option to be considered. I accept full responsibility, Asami-sama, but I did what seemed to be the only plausible thing to do at that point to prevent further injury to my charge.”



Not daring to look at his boss, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor. He felt like closing his eyes, not wanting to see the deathly strike he was sure to come at him any second now. When Asami lifted his hand, he flinched but didn’t back away, he knew he had it coming, he had messed up one time too many. He got ready to kneel on the floor, his last display of deference to his master while awaiting his death. Giving a last smile to his partner he prepared himself for the worst; he sighed and closed his eyes.



“Good job, Keita. I wish my couch could have survived, but nevertheless – good job. You did well.”



Eyes snapped open, mouth agape he stared at his boss who clapped him on the shoulder.



“Of course I’ll take the price for a replacement out of your pay-check.”



“Yes… thank you, Asami-sama… I…”



“I need to take care of my pet now, make sure that I’m not disturbed.” Smiling Asami made his way to the bedroom.



“And make sure that mess is cleaned up.”



“Yes, Asami-sama.”



“As you wish, Asami-sama.”



Watching the broad back of their boss disappear through the door, they both stood there, still shocked from the unexpected behavior.



“Coffee, Keita?”



“I…He…” Dumbfounded Keita confusedly pointed to the door, still not able to comprehend what had just happened.



“Yeah. This really went… surprisingly well.” Akira went over to the love of his life, cherishing the sleek handles with every caressing touch.



“I… He… I… wow. I don’t know what to say…” Still stuttering, Keita dropped heavily into one of the high chairs, absentmindedly plucking white specks of fluff from his suit.



“You think he is really going to punish him?” Cradling the steaming cup Akira sat in front of him; he gave a worried look to his partner.



“Knowing him – you can bet your life on it.”



Keita looked even more miserable than before.



“But you know, he is not going to hurt Aki-chan. He really loves that boy.” Akira did his best to soothe his friend.



“You think so?”



“I’m absolutely sure.”



*****



As soon as Asami walked into the bedroom, a pillow hit him square in the face. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and closed the door. And locked it with an audible click.



He turned around to face an irate little wild-cat, crouched low on the bed, ready to pounce. Chuckling to himself he started to loosen his tie, all the while keeping his eyes on the boy.



“Still not done with your little temper-tantrum?” Asami took a step closer.



“You… you… Bastard! Stay right where you are.” The kitten held up another pillow, ready to defend himself.



“You do realize that this will make your punishment only worse.”



“Fuck you! There will be no punishing or fucking or anything. Got that, you asshole? Who do you think you are anyways? You married me. YOU. FUCKING. MARRIED. ME. Do you hear me? YOU. FUCKING. MARRIED.ME!”



“Yes, I did.”



“That all you got to say? Just: I did. Fuck you, Asami, fuck you to hell and back. You can’t do that. Nobody can do that.”



“It seems like I can and I did. And it would be best if you remember that.”



“Aaaaaaaaarrrrggghhhh.” The second pillow followed the first. Akihito was beyond angry now.



“I don’t want to be married to you. You had no right… I… You… Make it go away!!!! Now! I don’t want this.”



“I’m afraid that is not an option. So, why don’t you cool down a bit while I take a shower and think of what punishment would be fitting for you?”



Nonchalantly Asami walked to the bathroom, carelessly dropping his shirt on the floor before stepping into the tiled elegance of his personal bath.



“I’ll show you, pervert.” Akihito darted from the bed, snatched the shirt and started to rip the expensive silk into shreds. Still, that wasn’t enough. He followed his ‘husband’ into the bathroom, his eyes still burning with rage. Deciding that Asami hadn’t heard enough yet, he started yelling at the steam engulfed back, trying hard not to notice the rivulets of water running down the muscled back, disappearing between the all too powerful thighs. He shifted uncomfortably, his body betraying him once again at the sight before him.



“I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them that I didn’t want this. And that you raped me. And… and…” All of a sudden an arm darted out, pulling him under the stream of water. His robe was pulled from him, baring him to the eyes of his lover.



“And how will you explain this?” He felt a hand grope his erection, squeezing it.



“I you… you drugged me. I know you did.”



He felt himself being pulled closer, his shaft being pressed into a muscled thigh. Asami leaned down to whisper in his ear.



“If you know what’s good for you, you will go back to the bed, get in position and wait until I’m ready to deal with you.”



“You… you… mmpfhhh.” Whatever it was that he wanted to say was cut off by demanding lips pressing down on his, devouring his mouth with an intense kiss.



“That should keep you ‘til I’m done. And now scoot, pet.” Asami broke the kiss, gave his pet an encouraging slap on his naked butt, steered him out of the stall and resumed his shower.



“I… You… Oh!!!” Stomping his foot he grabbed a towel and dried himself off, still steaming while trotting back into the bedroom. The man was impossible. But he wouldn’t back down, no way in hell he would back down. He’d have it out with Asami once and for all. Yep, he would show him exactly what he was made of. Then again, maybe he should just check the door to see if it really was locked.



Acting casually he walked over to the door, his hand at first brushing the handle lightly, then with a firm grip he started pulling at it only to find that it didn’t move. Damn that bastard! He kicked the door in frustration, yelled out at the pain traveling up his leg and hopped back to the bed, holding his hurting foot. Could a day get any crappier than this? Wincing, he sat down on the bed, his brain frantically trying to come up with an idea that would help him against Asami.



First, he needed an easily defendable position. He pulled the pillows in front of him, stacking them and as an afterthought, covered them with the comforter. There. That would keep the pervert at bay. He looked at his silky fortress, proud at first at this little accomplishment. Yeah, that would stop that stupid asshole away… Right, for about a second or so. With another frustrated sound of annoyance he turned towards the pillows, ready to kick them away. He pulled the comforter off, wrapping it around himself. As if this would help. Shit. This was so not working. He stood up on the soft mattress, carefully taking aim and gave the first pillow a powerful kick, sending it flying to the bathroom door where it landed with a soft thud. Now, that didn’t feel too bad. With much more enthusiasm he zeroed in on the second one, he pulled his leg back for another kick, swinging it, trying to gain even more momentum. He took aim, scrunched his nose in concentration and let lose. Just as the door opened.



The pillow would have hit Asami square on his chest, if his reflexes were anything less than amazing. His arm moved up, blocking the offending item effortlessly, making it drop to floor, right next to the other. Irritated he looked over to the bed where his kitten had collapsed into a heap of pillows and comforters, having lost his balance after the powerful kick. He managed to bite back the chuckle that threatened to escape, looking as composed as ever.



“Ah. I see you are already in position for your punishment. So, what’s it going to be, pet? Have you made up your mind?”



Watching the menacing looking man, only covered with a short towel around his middle come closer, caused an immediate shut-down of Akihito’s brain.



“You… No! Stay away from me… “



Seriously worried about his fate now, the young photographer tried to scramble off the bed. Only to be stopped by a hand clamping down on his ankle. There was no way to escape the iron grasp or the powerful movement that made him flip on his back. He felt himself being pulled towards the taller man, the already loose ties of his robe doing nothing to keep the silky garment in place. With every inch Asami tugged him closer; his body became more exposed, causing a predatory gleam to appear in the golden eyes above him.



“Well, I think we are ready to start…”



There was no way out now, no escape possible, nothing would save him.



“Asami, listen… I… you… nooooooooooooooooooooo…”