Disclaimer: Yamane Ayano owns all these lovely characters. I claim no right to them what-so-ever. They're terribly fun to "play" with though.

Negotiations

By: Shad0wg8

Akihito struggled against the firm grip on his arm as he was propelled through the door. He heard the thick piece of wood click shut and yanked, desperately trying to get free. He was caught. Again. And the outcome would be inevitable.

"Bastard! Let me go!" he hissed, twisting in the larger man's grip.

"You have been warned, repeatedly," the last word was stressed, the tone cool.

Akihito felt dread clawing it's way up from the pit of his stomach. To anyone else that timbre would sound almost bored, indifferent. But he knew better. Oh how he knew, but wished he didn't. He licked his lips; racking his brain for some way to appease the angry man looming over him, oblivious to the hungry gaze that followed the track of is tongue. Nothing came to mind. Nothing he was willing to submit to anyway. A quick glance at Asami's face only made his anxiety increase.

Golden eyes suddenly flashed in amusement and Akihito found anger surging up over the nervousness.

"Y-you!" he sputtered, trying to find an invective strong enough to express his revulsion. "You sick asshole!" he bellowed, the sudden gush of anger overriding his common sense. He twisted in the vice-like grip, his free hand balling into a fist and striking out as he kicked behind him blindly.

The room suddenly tilted and spun, and Akihito found himself roughly bent over the back of a large, overstuffed leather couch. He began swearing in earnest, lashing out in any way he could. His prolonged struggles only earned him the reward of being pushed further over the back of the couch. Both arms were captured and pinned behind his back, his face pressed into the plush seat to muffle his cries of protest. He felt something soft encircle his wrists and then pull uncomfortably tight. He groaned into the leather seat. Immobilized, feet dangling off the floor, Takaba Akihito was completely at the mercy of his captor.

He jerked, letting out a yelp of surprise as his jeans and boxers were roughly yanked down his thighs. He began to squirm, attempting to get away until something cold and slick rubbed up against his entrance. His breath caught and he froze.

"Do I finally have your attention now?" Asami breathed, leaning in close to allow his breath to ghost over Takaba's ear.

The younger man shivered in spite of himself.

"It has been brought to my attention that a certain photographer has been sticking his nose where it doesn't belong." He bit down lightly on a sensitive ear and was rewarded with a soft gasp.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Takaba muttered, trying to ignore Asami's wandering lips.

"Going to play that game again, are we?" He waited for a response, but when none came he continued on. "Then, I suppose I'll have to coerce the information out of you."

The cool something pressing against him shifted as Asami applied more pressure, slowly gliding past the tight ring of muscle. Akihito swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut as it slowly, torturously stretched and rubbed against his insides. He was panting softly by the time Asami finally stopped, the object fully embedded in him.

"However, I have a very important business meeting I need to attend."

Akihito felt his heart plunge, his chest suddenly tight. He tried to find his voice as the yakuza began to maneuver him up off the couch. Asami chuckled, a hand running up the inside of Akihito's thigh to lightly brush against his stiffening cock.

"Oh, don't worry, my cute Akihito," he teased, a dangerous glint to his eyes. "I'll have plenty of time for you after it's over," he assured as he pulled the boy's pants back up and fastened them. Akihito stared at the man blankly. Asami reached into his jacket and pulled something out.

"Open your mouth, Akihito." The photographer shook his head in the negative, slowly backing away on unsteady legs. Asami easily captured him, grabbing his jaw and applying pressure to force his mouth open. Akihito tried to pull away but stopped when the grip tightened painfully. He whimpered and stood still, allowing Asami to slip the pill into his mouth.

"Swallow," he commanded, watching him sharply. Akihito obeyed, grimacing at the bitter taste left in his mouth. Asami nodded in satisfaction.

"Now, I'm going to give you some time to think about your actions. Be a good boy while I'm gone."

As the door shut, Akihito staggered, a sudden wave of nausea throwing him off balance. He lurched over to the wall, leaning against it as the spell passed; the queasiness followed by a sudden rise in his temperature. With rising panic realization dawned. He remembered this sensation from that first time…

"Asami you bastard," Akihito growled, his forehead falling to rest against the cool wall as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Several rooms down from where Akihito was another door was opened and Asami Ryuichi entered his stylish office. He smoothly slid into his seat behind the imposing desk, smirking as he noted the time. Nodding to the two gentlemen seated across from him, he leaned back and waited in anticipation.

Takaba tugged at his bindings in desperation, biting back the urge to voice his aggravation. He felt warm, too warm, and his jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight. He had tried sitting down only to discover that it jostled the present Asami had left inside him. Every time he moved suddenly, the thing would shift and rub just so, causing him to convulse. Presently he was kneeling on the floor, trying to figure out how to get back up without falling on his face or worse. Preoccupied as he was, Akihito didn't even notice that someone had come into the room until he was hauled to his feet.

The photographer cussed loudly as he was jostled out into the hall by two of Asami's goons. They stopped outside a door no different than any of the others they had passed, and while one knocked on the door the other unbound Akihito's wrists. The door swung inward and he was shoved inside, coming to a stumbling halt against the side of a large mahogany desk. A desk he knew all too well. His eyes darted around the room quickly, taking in the presence of the two other men besides Asami with surprise. Surely Asami didn't intend to… to…

"Akihito, are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed," Asami questioned in mock concern, brushing his hand against the boy's forehead. Akihito shuddered and wrenched away from his touch, instantly regretting it as a sharp jab of pleasure rippled up his spine.

"I-I'm fine," he ground out, latching onto the edge of the desk for support as he shot a glare at the smirking yakuza.

"Maybe you better sit down. Come here," Asami commanded, patting his lap.

Akihito glanced longingly at the door before swallowing thickly and edging around the bulky piece of furniture. He began to gingerly lower himself onto Asami's lap, but the man would have none of it, yanking him down forcefully. Akihito cried out at the rough treatment, quickly turning his face into Asami's shoulder to muffle the sound. He felt the man shift, an arm snaking around his waist and the other hand threading into his hair.

Glancing down, Asami allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he watched Akihito squirm in his lap. His face was turned into his shoulder to hide his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. He stifled a moan as Asami suddenly shifted, his hands gripping the lapels of Asami's expensive suit in a white-knuckled grip. His blush deepened, spreading to his ears and he had to bite into the soft material of the suit to cover a loud whine as Asami leaned over to nibble on his ear. When the man pulled away he took several deep breaths, trying to regain some composure.

"A-Asami," he paused, gnawing on his lower lip as the damn man shifted again.

"Only a little longer," Asami soothed, running his fingers through Akihito's tousled tresses. The younger man tried to glare at him but was forced to bury his face in the man's shoulder again as Asami's fingers drifted down the nape of his neck, trailing along his arm and down to the front of his jeans. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the substantial bulge in Akihito's pants, eliciting a series of strained noises from the boy.

"N-nnhg!" Akihito exclaimed, arching into Asami's teasing touch. The older man rewarded with a firm grope, his hand lingering. He felt Asami's lips press against his ear and almost cried from the overwhelming sensations assaulting him.

"Not yet," Asami murmured, pulling his hands away from the trembling body. Akihito choked on a sob, frantically grabbing Asami's wrist but was easily shaken off. Nerves completely frayed, Akihito reached for himself to end the torturously pleasurable agony. His wrists were easily captured and bound once more. A breathy moan escaped him as Asami tightened the knots and forced him to his feet. He steadied himself against the desk as Asami stood behind him, saying something Akihito couldn't quite follow to the room's other occupants.

"Time to go, my little wildcat," Asami said softly, an edge to his voice as he scooped the boy up and carried him out of his office.