Hey,

I have been pretty heavy on depression since I last posted, it's weird when things are great - and then in the next second - they're not. I couldn't even relax and write because (and this isn't a dig at anyone!) I was in the middle of writing a story only to see someone else has published pretty much the same thing just before me - it's kind of soul destroying and it made me loose all enthusiasm for writing and all of my stories.

So I have been writing this and yes, I've been down so this will be depressing until I've cheered the hell up. I will do my best to update stuff but I'm afraid the human mind is fickle and I can't make myself write well when I'm feeling like shit. Sorry! I just wanted to give you guys something today.

Thank you for all my reads, reviews, faves and follows - sorry if I don't get back to you all. I'll do my best there too.

Warnings: Swearing.

}xXx{

"He's arrived Asami-sama. He's been sent to wait in your office…"

Asami nods at Kirishima from the back of the limo, the guard pocketing his phone once more after speaking briefly with the secretary based at Sion where Akihito has just arrived to greet Asami, the man making his way back from the Airport after a four week business trip in Munich. He stubs out his cigarette and straightens his suit absentmindedly, adamant that his heart did not just start to beat a little faster upon the realisation that after countless sessions of FaceTime phone sex, he'll have Akihito, all five foot eight inches of him, all to himself. Naked and spread out for him on the grand, polished desk in his office within moments.

They turn into the street that houses his flagship club. Sion. His castle.

Akihito sighs as he finishes sending a text to Koh and peruses the almost empty shelves while he swivels around in Asami's big office chair, waiting for the man to get back from the airport, Finally. He had gone to Europe over the Christmas period, Akihito invited and all too tempted to go but for his mom's insistence he spend the new year with them, the photographer not having much time for his family these days apparently. What with the whole being kidnapped and carted off to Hong-Kong thing, or being kidnapped and held in a warehouse thing. In between spending time with his ultra possessive Crime lord lover.

So he had agreed to come along today after work, Asami and him over that past month having to satisfy their embarrassingly high libidos and the (repressed and denied) need to see each other over an unreliable internet connection during the night as Akihito tried to keep his voice down while jerking himself off in his old bedroom. Hid friends and family only mere feet away. The secrecy though just added to the thrill for both of them, Asami managing to have Akihito whimpering more than once while he taunted Akihito with the fact that the photographer had no lock on his door, that his parents could hear his lewd moans and walk in at any time to see their one and only precious son laying on his small single bed, thrusting into his hand as Asami did the same over the line, Akihito muffling his cries with the T-shirt he had pulled up from the waist to expose his chest and nipples to Asami, his very-much male lover.

It felt so wrong but so, so good and also more than once Akihito had screamed 'Asami' into his Doraemon cushion as he came hard though still feeling empty, still wishing he could have more. And Asami reading him like a book.

Even now he still blushes from the memory of those nights, the middle of the day for Asami because of the time difference not that the man seemed to mind at all, mostly because he's the one that had always started it. He turns the chair to face out of the floor to ceiling windows, sighing and sinking into the leather like he knows he will be into Asami's arms in just a few minutes, when he arrives. The photographher already trying to calm his racing heart.

The door opens behind him and he turns, ready to greet Asami with a smile.

The limo finally pulls up to the club and Asami makes his way swiftly through the building, opening the door to his office and placing his briefcase beside Akihito's bag on the sofa, already reaching up to loosen his tie just a little after four incredibly tense weeks dealing with a rival fixer, one who had for some time been attempting to poach Asami's clients and territory. The trip had been necessary, negations tough but he thinks they had made headway in the end and the German, Albrecht Dürer had finally rescinded - admitting that a battle between Asia and him would not be beneficial, especially as Mikhail Arbatov had refused his support for the German after he had reached out to him. A war against Asami meant upsetting Fei Long after all.

"Akihito…"

He says, practically purring and with one of his more beastly smirks on his face. Heat begins to swirl and pool low in his stomach at the mere thought of those lips, against his in a matter of seconds. He rounds his desk, expecting a sleepy Akihito to be curled up within the comfort of his desk chair and he smiles as he turns it. Only to find it empty.

He goes to the bathroom, the door closed. He finds that empty as well.

The man takes out his phone and refuses to acknowledge the sense of irritation coursing through him at his spritely lover.

"Kirishima, did Takaba go somewhere?"

He frowns as he hears the negative, no one has seen Akihito leave Asami's office since he arrived twenty minutes ago. He finds himself displeased at the lack of information and at the elusive photographer himself as he casts his eyes around every possible nook and cranny within the office the nimble young man could have concealed himself within, coming up empty soon after. He sighs down the line, a headache forming already as he orders his man to search high and low for the brat, the one that's probably off snooping in one of the security offices somewhere.

}xXx{

Two years later

Asami is up out of bed and in the shower before the come smeared over his cock and thighs even has time to cool, leaving the latest of many young men still dazed and catching his breath on the huge hotel suite's bed.

Two years, two years since that day at Sion when his men had come up empty in their search for Akihito, two years when his little lover just upped and vanished that afternoon from Asami's office and leaving nothing behind but his rucksack holding his two favourite camera's and an upturned pen pot on Asami's desk.

That pen pot the only sign that anything was wrong.

The security footage even came up empty, his men only able to speculate whether the footage was tampered with or not, he had specialists in combing the footage for any signs of looping, analysing each frame but always coming up inconclusive. No clear signs of looping. It seems the boy really did just disappear.

Asami had gone on a rampage, well, as much as one can when you have no one to actually target. He had frozen Akihito's account, shown up at all of Akihito's usual haunts, on the look out for any signs of hazel hair and those fiery eyes and had even placed taps on all of Akihito's acquaintances phones, no one was safe and no one wasn't a suspect. Asami was frustrated, angry, unsure. Not emotions he likes to feel, ones that he hadn't really felt before, ever. Before Akihito.

Endless searching, spying, shooting when he didn't get answers and after a week or two he had even reached out to the police when all other avenues had utterly exhausted themselves, only to find both his friends and family had already placed a missing persons report.

And like that, two long years passed. Asami only holding onto all of Akihito's things now out of convenience, he tells himself. Though he's faced many of the five stages of grief already.

He shuts off the water, hoping the kid in the next room has the sense to have left already, not in the mood for any emotional displays like the one before, or the one before that. Sex has become a chore, his partners nothing but a hole and he knows that he may as well use his hand but there's something, something that he won't let himself do yet and that's always picking up boys with just a little, just a tiny resemblance to that person. It could be their hair colour, their laugh, there's always a small hint of Akihito in these young men and it helps him to pretend. To not feel this strange and unwelcome sense of abandonment, hopelessness that keeps him from sleeping at night.

He's Asami Ryuichi, he shouldn't be feeling this way.

He steps backs into the bedroom and changes back into his suit, ignoring the coy display from the boy rolling sensually on the bed, enjoying the rich Egyptian cotton against his naked, marked skin. The Crime Lord can't stand it, can't stand the see the affected greed on these whores faces once they get a taste of him and his life style, Akihito wouldn't - he would never -

He clenches his jaw as the naked young man slides off the bed towards him and steps away, just missing the arms that are aiming for his waist. Time to go to work.

Out of the hotel he nods at Kirishima who bows to him as usual beside the open limo door, the slightest of sighs leaving the loyal guard as he closes the door. Another day, another floozy.

It's not his business what his boss does and he knows this, it's just that also, looking after this man's best interests is Kirishima's job. This whole situation, ever since Takaba Akihito was abducted from from Sion that day, from the one place that given the sheer number of security personnel and the latest in security technology guarding it - the place should have been impenetrable. Asami's men had been beside themselves, searching every possible hiding place, the laundry to the trash to the surrounding buildings and yet still coming up short. Kirishima had presented himself at Asami's desk the next day, resignation in hand and he had bowed deeply, offering up himself for any punishment Asami deemed appropriate for this unfathomable oversight, his utter helplessness to find one troublesome boy that had disappeared from right under their noses.

Asami had angrily dismissed the notion, a man such as Kirishima too valuable to let go even in the face of this so he had ordered him back to work. Demanding with a snarl that if he is that distraught over the boy's disappearance then he should be in fact pouring all that wasted energy into finding him. Kirishima has been looking into it with renewed vigour ever since then, him and Suoh still chasing up any new leads and though still coming up empty. From what that man, Dürer had said months later when they had finally cornered him in Shinjuku and tortured him for days, after he had planted a deadly explosive device in that same office - Asami's office at Sion. He had told Asami, Suoh, Kirishima and a handful of other loyal men that yes, he knew perfectly well that Akihito was important to Asami - and that he had disappeared.

He had laughed brokenly, gargling blood. Laughed at Asami's rage and merely stated that he had been the one that had arranged to spirit the boy away, not even an hour after Asami had walked out of their last meeting - but he kept on laughing, boasting that he had escaped several weeks after and that he's probably dead, the 'whore already totally broken, drug dependent and completely fucked out' - probably lying dead, rotting in a gutter somewhere here in Tokyo already.

Ha said it was a shame he couldn't have shown Asami his handy work, his masterpiece - right before he ended them both.

Asami had frozen upon hearing this, his men too. And they had all been furious to learn it. Wrathful. To the point that even when the last of Dürer's limbs had been removed and he had slowly bled to death to the noise of his own cries and ragged breathing on the floor, not one person left the room or averted their eyes. This man deserved it and they would stand by their king to the end.

Kirishima worries these days, he does not have the time between Asami-sama picking these men and women up at a bar or club and Kirishima dropping them off at a hotel to do the necessary security checks - it's only a matter of time before one turns out to be an assassin or that they get pregnant or give his boss some sexually transmitted disease. Asami-sama has stopped caring though, has almost stopped going home at all and Kirishima sees the dark shadows just forming under the mans eyes, more than once he's caught him asleep in his desk chair. Clearly unable to sleep at night, next to yet another stranger. He knows his boss can handle himself but it's true also, that he is only human. What about next time?

The guard starts the car, sighing when yet another call comes through the line. Not even ten in the morning yet and already this is the second of the day of this nature, a pesky pickpocket has been preying on Sions customers over the last few weeks and his staff as of yet have been unable to catch him. If this keeps up he'll have to consult Asami about this nonsense but rather luckily, he's been able to compensate the victims so far with a few complimentary bottles of Champagne.

He notes that perhaps today and with both himself and Suoh based at Sion he should clear this little vagrant up for good, he's sure Asami-sama wouldn't notice if he ducks out for an hour while the man sleeps at his desk again.