[FIC] Job Application (VF, Asami/Takaba, AU, R)
TITLE: Job Application
AUTHOR: Moonchild
FANDOM: Viewfinder
RATING: R
PAIRING: Asami Ryuichi/Takaba Akihito
GENRE: AU
SUMMARY: Akihito needs a job, Asami has ideas as to what this job might be.
DISCLAIMER: All credit for the sexy characters goes to Yamane Ayano.
A/N: No beta, and my first attempt at writing sex, vague as I tried to keep it. Consider yourself warned.
JOB APPLICATION
There was nobody at the restroom except for him. Akihito slid down the wall with a relieved sigh. Sneaking into the club hadn't been easy, but very realistic and detailed promises regarding his kneecaps and a hammer had proven to be a surprisingly good incentive.
Sweet-talking, bribes in the form of chocolate and flowers and three rather costly dinners had finally paid off, opening for him the backdoor of the most prestigious and inaccessible for mere mortals night club in Tokyo. His investments had also granted him a rather enjoyable night in the wooed waitress' bed, but that had been just a side benefit.
The voices outside toned down considerably now, which meant that the business part of the meeting was over. A little more time, and the guests would start paying visits here.
Sooner or later, Liu Fei Long would enter too. Then Akihito had to somehow make an impression, and do so fast, before the Chinese ordered his bodyguards to shoot him.
This was his only chance. If the plan failed, he'd just have to leg it out of Tokyo. Disappear in some little godforsaken town and lie low for a couple of years, or disappear altogether, with the help of his former partners.
He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that one second of bad luck had left him in such a deep shit. A little kid of undefined gender had popped out from nowhere in the middle of the road, Akihito had avoided the collision by taking an abrupt turn to the side. The car he'd been driving, a unique specimen of engineering thought, had met its fate in the form of a large, heavy and unforgiving truck.
Upon learning that the vehicle of his dreams had been totaled, the customer got understandably unhappy. So did people who'd hired Akihito. Correctly deducing that he wouldn't be able to pay for the damage in the next fifty years, they decided to get at least the moral satisfaction out of the ordeal. So far fast reaction and long legs had got Akihito out of several unpleasant confrontations but he couldn't run forever.
At the sound of an opening door Akihito scrambled up hastily. Pathetic as catching his potential employer in the toilet was, he would still prefer to assume a more or less dignified posture for the first acquaintance.
It wasn't Fei Long. Akihito had got one or two glimpses of his to-be savior earlier in the evening, and could recognize him now. However, cool and elegant, expensively dressed, an air of superiority all around him, the newcomer clearly belonged to the same category of criminal elite.
The man who wasn't Fei Long reached the middle of the room and stopped there, staring at him.
"Let's make some introductions, shall we?" The stranger suggested politely. "I'm Asami Ryuichi, the owner of the club you chose to grace with your presence without invitation. Placed any explosives here? Bugs, maybe...? You can tell me now, and save my security team some time on watching the surveillance tapes."
He really, really didn't need another man after his head. "I-I'm sorry, I'm really..."
"What are you here for?"
Lying at this point wouldn't help him any, not that he could think of a believable excuse anyway.
"I wanted to see Liu Fei Long. Ask if he'd give me a job."
"You really think there's not enough qualified personnel in Hong Kong? Or is your reputation in Japan so bad that you need to search for a job abroad?"
Akihito flushed from the derogatory words that hit too close to home. No matter how strong the temptation was, he realized that the physical response he would've given under any other circumstances, wasn't going to help him here.
"I've been doing odd jobs for different people. You know, keeping track of somebody, delivering stuff...," he started reluctantly. "So I was offered to take a car to a client. And it crashed. People who hired me thought it was my fault..."
"Which of course it wasn't," Asami sarcastically supplied.
"Er, well, it kinda was but... I mean, I didn't plan to... I..."
"Save it. If your employers didn't find your excuses convincing, I'm even less likely to.
"So what can you do? You must consider yourself pretty good, if you have the courage to sneak into my club and offer your services to one of the most influential people in Hong Kong." Asami approached, giving Akihito a once-over which feels strangely assessing. "Convince me, and I might mention you to Fei Long."
Akihito wasn't not quite sure whether a mention by Asami Ryuichi would get him into the Chinese's good graces. Criminal bosses usually made better competitors than buddies. But this wasn't a conversation one could walk out of, so he accepted the offer at the face value.
This speech Akihito had been rehearsing for days. With a new influx of confidence, he began, "I have experience with fighting and shooting. Can run fast, too. Sneak into the enemy's territory and stay unnoticed for a long time." Asami grinned at that. "I have good memory for details. I'm great with cars and..."
"After what I just heard, I'd advise you to omit the part about being great with cars," Asami interrupted him.
"Huh?"
"And 'sneak into the enemy's territory'? Watched too many spy movies in your childhood?"
"Now listen! I didn't ask for your critique, it's not like I'm applying to you for..."
Asami shook his head regretfully. "This won't do at all. We must think of other uses Fei Long could find for you."
Akihito suddenly noticed that Asami was standing very close to him.
"Can't have my dear friend and business partner disappointed, you understand?" Asami placed his hand on Akihito's neck.
Akihito could feel Asami's thumb caressing his chin. He suppressed a shiver. He should push him away, immediately. This was wrong. Whatever the hell "this" was. By now, he should've been kicked out of the club, either beaten up or shot. Or both.
Instead, he was facing the club's owner in the middle of the restroom, being touched... wait, when had Asami unbuttoned the collar of his shirt? The fingers had already traveled downward, and Akihito's words of protest were still stuck in his throat.
He wasn't enjoying it, was he? Akihito was not interested in men, he'd know if he were. He could still step back, throw off the hand...
Hands, actually. At some point Asami's left hand had settled on the small of his back, perhaps to stop his attempt to back away, which he was yet to make.
The eyes staring into his were calm and certain. There was expectation in Asami's gaze, not a request for permission. Akihito tried to speak up but when he opens his mouth, any sound he might have produced was swallowed by Asami.
These lips were the undoing of any possible resistance Akihito could've mustered, and when a hand slipped into his pants, he just whimpered into the hot mouth devouring his, already forgetting whether he wanted to get closer to his assailant or away from him. Asami's fingers were unerringly moving under the fabric, further nurturing an erection Akihito hadn't even been aware of.
The kiss went on, brushing of lips alternated with biting and sucking, with only the briefest respites for inhaling oxygen.
Akihito was all but leaning on Asami. The mouth and the palm on his back added to the sensation building up below, making him feel lightheaded, almost suspended in the air. When the release came, he discovered that his own hands had long ago found refuge in the folds of Asami's suit, disrespectfully clutching and rumpling it.
Reluctantly, he let go - or was let go - and barely prevented himself from falling, unable to find purchase. As if under hypnosis, he watched Asami walk away and wash his hands.
Then Asami turned back to him, looking as pristine and elegant as when he had entered the room, and Akihito was struck by an unexpected desire for continuation.
Asami's hand rose to his shoulder and started pushing him down. He complied with the pressure, partly because he desperately wanted to reciprocate for the delicious explosion in his head and partly because his weakened legs were very eager to fold up.
He had only a vague idea of what he was to do now, but the man above him didn't let him ponder this for too long. One hand still on Akihito's shoulder, Asami unzipped his trousers with another. Akihito didn't need another invitation.
He watched enough porn to know how this was supposed to be done, and even got some first-hand experience owing to one of his ex-girlfriends who had made a couple of clumsy, not quite successful attempts to go down on him. Theoretical knowledge was helping, but not much. It still felt weird.
But in his mind remained the tingling sensation of lips and a wonderful hand, holding, stroking, pleasuring him as nothing had ever done before, imprinted on his skin as much as in his brain, and this was a sufficient encouragement to proceed. He wanted to give as good as he'd got. Better, if possible. Make Asami pant as hard as he did, move restlessly under his touch, tremble with impatience.
Akihito engaged his lips and tongue in the task, not quite sure he was doing it right, his attention mostly focused on preventing his teeth from scraping the flesh. There was no sound of approval or displeasure from above, and he did not dare to look up. Barely a few minutes into the action, his jaw was already hurting from unusual strain, and he was beginning to think this was taking inexcusably long. Akihito himself had finished much faster.
Another hand landed on the back of Akihito's head and made him pause for a second. Akihito first interpreted the touch as a signal to stop, but the next moment his head was pushed forward. After the action was repeated, he realized that Asami was setting up a rhythm for him. These manipulations were making him feel less important and just a little unnerved, but the difference was obvious. Now Asami was tightening his fingers in Akihito's hair, his hips thrusting towards Akihito's mouth instead of staying still; breaths coming out from his mouth were almost loud enough to be taken for groans.
Conclusion followed quickly enough after that. Out of consideration for the state of his clothes, Akihito did not even try to find out if it was okay for him pull away in the very end. They separated in a much tidier and unruffled state than Akihito had ever presumed was possible after sex.
Asami buttoned up his coat. "Not bad at all, Akihito. If Fei Long asks, feel free to send him to me for the reference. And should you change your mind about leaving Japan, do get in touch. I might have work for you too." The door closed after him.
Akihito didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the hard floor, coldness of the tiles seeping through his jeans. Nobody else entered, and he suspected that his new acquaintance had something to do with it. For that, if nothing else, he was very grateful. If somebody came in, he'd be forced to rise, maybe even explain himself. His thoughts were in too much of a jumble for coherent speech.
What the fuck did just happen here?! Hadn't he been planning to seek out Liu Fei Long, introduce himself, ask about a job? Instead he was giving blowjobs to strangers in the toilets. He didn't mind casual sex but never before had he been so quick about getting intimate with someone he'd known for less than an hour.
It took him another twenty minutes to remember what he was here for, and go for it. It took him about ten minutes to locate Liu Fei Long, surrounded by extremely busy-looking men, and another five to assure himself that Asami was not among them. It took him thirty minutes to push his way to Fei Long. And then it took him about a minute to leave the club and find himself jumping into a sleek, expensive-looking car, the door of which conveniently opened by an inch or two as Akihito ran out.
Predictably, there already was somebody in the salon. Somebody who nodded to the driver the moment Akihito landed inside, and the car took off.
"The first job interview with Fei Long, and he already wants to kill you?" Asami inquired, sounding as if he'd been expecting that all along.
"Didn't see him." Akihito was still trying to catch his breath. He decided to let the mockery slip. Chances were, if one of his replies did manage to irritate the man, he'd find himself back on the curb, facing half a dozen of hostile thugs who were probably still waiting there for him.
"That damned scar-face was there, the guy who I'm escaping from! And his friends too. I barely made it out of there."
"A guy with a scar on his face?" Asami slowly repeated. "Could you by any chance be talking about Fei Long's right-hand man?"
Akihito went pale. "Ah?"
There was a pause during which Asami produced a bottle of whiskey from the built-in bar. He splashed some into a glass and handed it over to Akihito.
Akihito accepted it automatically and balanced the glass on his knee. He didn't really want to drink at that moment, though he might reconsider were he offered some fast-working poison.
"F-Fei Long was the buyer? So I... broke his car?"
A sigh. "Really, if he is that keen on expanding his collection, why not just ask me? Much safer for the cars when professionals are involved."
Akihito groaned and clutched his head with both hands. The sound of shattering glass made him jump.
"You have some deeply ingrained resentment towards good quality cars, don't you?" Asami remarked reproachfully, eyes studying a little wet pool and shards of glass on the carpeted floor.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The absolutely last thing Akihito needed now, to piss off another criminal boss. He swooped down to pick up the sad glass remains but his dive was stopped mid-way by Asami's hand.
"If you plan to do any work for me, I'm sure I can find something better to occupy you with than cleaning my car." Asami's eyes slid down Akihito's body in a way that left little doubt as to what occupation Asami had in mind.
A few weeks ago Akihito would've spit into Asami's face for such an offer, and probably got himself promptly killed. A few days ago he would've showed more caution and walked away at the first opportunity without saying a word. Now there were all sorts of memories swarming in his head and messing up his decision process.
His apartment, turned upside down. A knife, held less than an inch away from his eye. His former buddies, suddenly recalling urgent business they needed to attend to as soon as they saw him. Interest in the eyes of the most powerful man he ever met. Confident hands on his body, knowing exactly where and how to touch.
And if asked, Akihito wouldn't be able to tell, nor did it matter all that much, which of these mental pictures was the one that made him lean towards Asami's fingers, allowing them to lightly stroke his face.
The End
AUTHOR: Moonchild
FANDOM: Viewfinder
RATING: R
PAIRING: Asami Ryuichi/Takaba Akihito
GENRE: AU
SUMMARY: Akihito needs a job, Asami has ideas as to what this job might be.
DISCLAIMER: All credit for the sexy characters goes to Yamane Ayano.
A/N: No beta, and my first attempt at writing sex, vague as I tried to keep it. Consider yourself warned.
JOB APPLICATION
There was nobody at the restroom except for him. Akihito slid down the wall with a relieved sigh. Sneaking into the club hadn't been easy, but very realistic and detailed promises regarding his kneecaps and a hammer had proven to be a surprisingly good incentive.
Sweet-talking, bribes in the form of chocolate and flowers and three rather costly dinners had finally paid off, opening for him the backdoor of the most prestigious and inaccessible for mere mortals night club in Tokyo. His investments had also granted him a rather enjoyable night in the wooed waitress' bed, but that had been just a side benefit.
The voices outside toned down considerably now, which meant that the business part of the meeting was over. A little more time, and the guests would start paying visits here.
Sooner or later, Liu Fei Long would enter too. Then Akihito had to somehow make an impression, and do so fast, before the Chinese ordered his bodyguards to shoot him.
This was his only chance. If the plan failed, he'd just have to leg it out of Tokyo. Disappear in some little godforsaken town and lie low for a couple of years, or disappear altogether, with the help of his former partners.
He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that one second of bad luck had left him in such a deep shit. A little kid of undefined gender had popped out from nowhere in the middle of the road, Akihito had avoided the collision by taking an abrupt turn to the side. The car he'd been driving, a unique specimen of engineering thought, had met its fate in the form of a large, heavy and unforgiving truck.
Upon learning that the vehicle of his dreams had been totaled, the customer got understandably unhappy. So did people who'd hired Akihito. Correctly deducing that he wouldn't be able to pay for the damage in the next fifty years, they decided to get at least the moral satisfaction out of the ordeal. So far fast reaction and long legs had got Akihito out of several unpleasant confrontations but he couldn't run forever.
At the sound of an opening door Akihito scrambled up hastily. Pathetic as catching his potential employer in the toilet was, he would still prefer to assume a more or less dignified posture for the first acquaintance.
It wasn't Fei Long. Akihito had got one or two glimpses of his to-be savior earlier in the evening, and could recognize him now. However, cool and elegant, expensively dressed, an air of superiority all around him, the newcomer clearly belonged to the same category of criminal elite.
The man who wasn't Fei Long reached the middle of the room and stopped there, staring at him.
"Let's make some introductions, shall we?" The stranger suggested politely. "I'm Asami Ryuichi, the owner of the club you chose to grace with your presence without invitation. Placed any explosives here? Bugs, maybe...? You can tell me now, and save my security team some time on watching the surveillance tapes."
He really, really didn't need another man after his head. "I-I'm sorry, I'm really..."
"What are you here for?"
Lying at this point wouldn't help him any, not that he could think of a believable excuse anyway.
"I wanted to see Liu Fei Long. Ask if he'd give me a job."
"You really think there's not enough qualified personnel in Hong Kong? Or is your reputation in Japan so bad that you need to search for a job abroad?"
Akihito flushed from the derogatory words that hit too close to home. No matter how strong the temptation was, he realized that the physical response he would've given under any other circumstances, wasn't going to help him here.
"I've been doing odd jobs for different people. You know, keeping track of somebody, delivering stuff...," he started reluctantly. "So I was offered to take a car to a client. And it crashed. People who hired me thought it was my fault..."
"Which of course it wasn't," Asami sarcastically supplied.
"Er, well, it kinda was but... I mean, I didn't plan to... I..."
"Save it. If your employers didn't find your excuses convincing, I'm even less likely to.
"So what can you do? You must consider yourself pretty good, if you have the courage to sneak into my club and offer your services to one of the most influential people in Hong Kong." Asami approached, giving Akihito a once-over which feels strangely assessing. "Convince me, and I might mention you to Fei Long."
Akihito wasn't not quite sure whether a mention by Asami Ryuichi would get him into the Chinese's good graces. Criminal bosses usually made better competitors than buddies. But this wasn't a conversation one could walk out of, so he accepted the offer at the face value.
This speech Akihito had been rehearsing for days. With a new influx of confidence, he began, "I have experience with fighting and shooting. Can run fast, too. Sneak into the enemy's territory and stay unnoticed for a long time." Asami grinned at that. "I have good memory for details. I'm great with cars and..."
"After what I just heard, I'd advise you to omit the part about being great with cars," Asami interrupted him.
"Huh?"
"And 'sneak into the enemy's territory'? Watched too many spy movies in your childhood?"
"Now listen! I didn't ask for your critique, it's not like I'm applying to you for..."
Asami shook his head regretfully. "This won't do at all. We must think of other uses Fei Long could find for you."
Akihito suddenly noticed that Asami was standing very close to him.
"Can't have my dear friend and business partner disappointed, you understand?" Asami placed his hand on Akihito's neck.
Akihito could feel Asami's thumb caressing his chin. He suppressed a shiver. He should push him away, immediately. This was wrong. Whatever the hell "this" was. By now, he should've been kicked out of the club, either beaten up or shot. Or both.
Instead, he was facing the club's owner in the middle of the restroom, being touched... wait, when had Asami unbuttoned the collar of his shirt? The fingers had already traveled downward, and Akihito's words of protest were still stuck in his throat.
He wasn't enjoying it, was he? Akihito was not interested in men, he'd know if he were. He could still step back, throw off the hand...
Hands, actually. At some point Asami's left hand had settled on the small of his back, perhaps to stop his attempt to back away, which he was yet to make.
The eyes staring into his were calm and certain. There was expectation in Asami's gaze, not a request for permission. Akihito tried to speak up but when he opens his mouth, any sound he might have produced was swallowed by Asami.
These lips were the undoing of any possible resistance Akihito could've mustered, and when a hand slipped into his pants, he just whimpered into the hot mouth devouring his, already forgetting whether he wanted to get closer to his assailant or away from him. Asami's fingers were unerringly moving under the fabric, further nurturing an erection Akihito hadn't even been aware of.
The kiss went on, brushing of lips alternated with biting and sucking, with only the briefest respites for inhaling oxygen.
Akihito was all but leaning on Asami. The mouth and the palm on his back added to the sensation building up below, making him feel lightheaded, almost suspended in the air. When the release came, he discovered that his own hands had long ago found refuge in the folds of Asami's suit, disrespectfully clutching and rumpling it.
Reluctantly, he let go - or was let go - and barely prevented himself from falling, unable to find purchase. As if under hypnosis, he watched Asami walk away and wash his hands.
Then Asami turned back to him, looking as pristine and elegant as when he had entered the room, and Akihito was struck by an unexpected desire for continuation.
Asami's hand rose to his shoulder and started pushing him down. He complied with the pressure, partly because he desperately wanted to reciprocate for the delicious explosion in his head and partly because his weakened legs were very eager to fold up.
He had only a vague idea of what he was to do now, but the man above him didn't let him ponder this for too long. One hand still on Akihito's shoulder, Asami unzipped his trousers with another. Akihito didn't need another invitation.
He watched enough porn to know how this was supposed to be done, and even got some first-hand experience owing to one of his ex-girlfriends who had made a couple of clumsy, not quite successful attempts to go down on him. Theoretical knowledge was helping, but not much. It still felt weird.
But in his mind remained the tingling sensation of lips and a wonderful hand, holding, stroking, pleasuring him as nothing had ever done before, imprinted on his skin as much as in his brain, and this was a sufficient encouragement to proceed. He wanted to give as good as he'd got. Better, if possible. Make Asami pant as hard as he did, move restlessly under his touch, tremble with impatience.
Akihito engaged his lips and tongue in the task, not quite sure he was doing it right, his attention mostly focused on preventing his teeth from scraping the flesh. There was no sound of approval or displeasure from above, and he did not dare to look up. Barely a few minutes into the action, his jaw was already hurting from unusual strain, and he was beginning to think this was taking inexcusably long. Akihito himself had finished much faster.
Another hand landed on the back of Akihito's head and made him pause for a second. Akihito first interpreted the touch as a signal to stop, but the next moment his head was pushed forward. After the action was repeated, he realized that Asami was setting up a rhythm for him. These manipulations were making him feel less important and just a little unnerved, but the difference was obvious. Now Asami was tightening his fingers in Akihito's hair, his hips thrusting towards Akihito's mouth instead of staying still; breaths coming out from his mouth were almost loud enough to be taken for groans.
Conclusion followed quickly enough after that. Out of consideration for the state of his clothes, Akihito did not even try to find out if it was okay for him pull away in the very end. They separated in a much tidier and unruffled state than Akihito had ever presumed was possible after sex.
Asami buttoned up his coat. "Not bad at all, Akihito. If Fei Long asks, feel free to send him to me for the reference. And should you change your mind about leaving Japan, do get in touch. I might have work for you too." The door closed after him.
Akihito didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the hard floor, coldness of the tiles seeping through his jeans. Nobody else entered, and he suspected that his new acquaintance had something to do with it. For that, if nothing else, he was very grateful. If somebody came in, he'd be forced to rise, maybe even explain himself. His thoughts were in too much of a jumble for coherent speech.
What the fuck did just happen here?! Hadn't he been planning to seek out Liu Fei Long, introduce himself, ask about a job? Instead he was giving blowjobs to strangers in the toilets. He didn't mind casual sex but never before had he been so quick about getting intimate with someone he'd known for less than an hour.
It took him another twenty minutes to remember what he was here for, and go for it. It took him about ten minutes to locate Liu Fei Long, surrounded by extremely busy-looking men, and another five to assure himself that Asami was not among them. It took him thirty minutes to push his way to Fei Long. And then it took him about a minute to leave the club and find himself jumping into a sleek, expensive-looking car, the door of which conveniently opened by an inch or two as Akihito ran out.
Predictably, there already was somebody in the salon. Somebody who nodded to the driver the moment Akihito landed inside, and the car took off.
"The first job interview with Fei Long, and he already wants to kill you?" Asami inquired, sounding as if he'd been expecting that all along.
"Didn't see him." Akihito was still trying to catch his breath. He decided to let the mockery slip. Chances were, if one of his replies did manage to irritate the man, he'd find himself back on the curb, facing half a dozen of hostile thugs who were probably still waiting there for him.
"That damned scar-face was there, the guy who I'm escaping from! And his friends too. I barely made it out of there."
"A guy with a scar on his face?" Asami slowly repeated. "Could you by any chance be talking about Fei Long's right-hand man?"
Akihito went pale. "Ah?"
There was a pause during which Asami produced a bottle of whiskey from the built-in bar. He splashed some into a glass and handed it over to Akihito.
Akihito accepted it automatically and balanced the glass on his knee. He didn't really want to drink at that moment, though he might reconsider were he offered some fast-working poison.
"F-Fei Long was the buyer? So I... broke his car?"
A sigh. "Really, if he is that keen on expanding his collection, why not just ask me? Much safer for the cars when professionals are involved."
Akihito groaned and clutched his head with both hands. The sound of shattering glass made him jump.
"You have some deeply ingrained resentment towards good quality cars, don't you?" Asami remarked reproachfully, eyes studying a little wet pool and shards of glass on the carpeted floor.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The absolutely last thing Akihito needed now, to piss off another criminal boss. He swooped down to pick up the sad glass remains but his dive was stopped mid-way by Asami's hand.
"If you plan to do any work for me, I'm sure I can find something better to occupy you with than cleaning my car." Asami's eyes slid down Akihito's body in a way that left little doubt as to what occupation Asami had in mind.
A few weeks ago Akihito would've spit into Asami's face for such an offer, and probably got himself promptly killed. A few days ago he would've showed more caution and walked away at the first opportunity without saying a word. Now there were all sorts of memories swarming in his head and messing up his decision process.
His apartment, turned upside down. A knife, held less than an inch away from his eye. His former buddies, suddenly recalling urgent business they needed to attend to as soon as they saw him. Interest in the eyes of the most powerful man he ever met. Confident hands on his body, knowing exactly where and how to touch.
And if asked, Akihito wouldn't be able to tell, nor did it matter all that much, which of these mental pictures was the one that made him lean towards Asami's fingers, allowing them to lightly stroke his face.
The End