[Underlying Tension] Junjou Romantica - One Shot - R/NC-17
Title: Underlying Tension
Written for: frostberryjam @ junjou_fest
Pairing: Isaka/Asahina (Junjou Mistake)
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 3,796
Warnings: Smut, Yaoi
Summary: Deadlines and exhaustion are never a good combination, but Isaka is determined to persevere above all others to get the job done. With Asahina there to watch over him, Isaka is sure to have all his needs fulfilled.
Authors Notes: This was originally written for junjou_fest and slightly reedited and posted here in my writing comm. I'd also like to point that took the most often used name spellings from dangerous pleasure's scanlations of junjou mistake. This fic was unexpectedly challenging with almost 1200 words of smut discarded because these boys did not want to get it on as originally written, but I think they knew what they were doing as it didn't turn out half bad, IMO. Hopefully everyone else will agree with me.
Underlying Tension
Isaka hunched over his desk. He could feel Asahina patiently watching over him from across the room as he had done almost every single night for the past eight days. Just standing there, watching him.
He shivered as a chill went down his spine.
He wasn't the only one feeling the heavy weight of Asahina's measured, calculating stare. The near silent scrape of chairs being pushed back across the tiled floor was one of a handful of indications that his coworkers were making a getaway. Lamps were shut-off cloaking the room in ever increasing shadows, and the tell-tale music of computers shutting down pinged back and forth across the space as one by one, they left with unproofed manuscripts shoved into purses and briefcases.
They had started making their escape two days ago, just as they did today rather than waiting to see what new row Isaka would get into with Asahina. Isaka wasn't about to blame them for it, even as another shiver ran down his spine and made the pencil fall from his hand.
Murakawa Publishing was in the middle of several tough deadlines, one for their most lucrative seller-Usami Akihiko had no respect for deadlines-and the other for their monthly anthology release. The exhaustion was affecting everyone's work; Isaka knew he was no exception, but he was their best and fastest editor.
Isaka smirked.
It was the only thing he was good at, after all.
Isaka paused, a page held in mid-turn as thoughts of Akihiko and his newest paramour filled his head. Teasing his neighbor was one of his greatest foils, and a thorough session was more than deserved at the last six days of utter hell. Isaka grinned, already thinking of orchestrating another promotional event featuring one Usami Akihiko.
It would be music to his ears, the excuses and absurd measures to which Akihiko went to avoid leaving his apartment with work in mind. Isaka chuckled. It was especially fun when he managed to convince Akihiko there was an event when it was made purely out of thing air and usually spur of the moment as well.
Too bad there was that brat hanging with him every day now. It made it much less satisfying to pick a fight with Akihiko. To damn protective. No fun whatsoever.
Isaka frowned and snagged another pencil from behind his ear. That was an unpleasant experience. The last time he had a tough deadline, Asahina had forced him out for dinner to eat, and just when things had started getting interesting-Misaki's face was falling by the second!-Asahina had to go and drag him out by the collar of his shirt.
Isaka flicked a glance towards the door and scowled. There was yet another reason he wasn't in the mood to give Asahina the time of day. He sniffed, and turned back to his manuscript, carefully reading each line.
He didn't get far, especially with pages floating haphazardly across his desk and his heart beating a mile a minute. Isaka hissed. "Asahina, you dumbass; don't scare me like that!" He scrambled for pages, stuffing them back into a pile and loosely in order.
"Sorry," Asahina blandly, reaching over Isaka to snag a few pages from the top of a three foot pile of books and earmarked manuscripts.
Isaka grabbed the page out of Asahina's hands. "Whatever. Go away and don't ever do that again." Isaka glared at Asahina from the corner of his eye.
He shouldn't have looked. The slight shrug was more than annoying. It was downright rude and condescending and Isaka refused to take that from anyone except himself and maybe his mother, if he was in a good mood.
Isaka's brow twitched. He could already hear the mild sufferance in Asahina's voice which never bode well for him. It usually ended up with him stumbling to keep up and getting dragged somewhere he'd much rather not be.
Like as what happened after the Akihiko event; Asahina had dragged him home, lecturing constantly on Isaka's bad manners and why'd he have to pick a fight with their number one seller and it was all Isaka could do to tune him out. It wasn't until Isaka found himself half naked and sprawled out on the floor, still drunk, that Isaka thought better of ignoring Asahina. That night had been more grueling and exhausting and utterly fantastic than any previous night before or since.
Isaka hid his blush behind the shuffling of manuscript pages as he hurriedly finished putting them in order. He had been forced to work from home the next day, much to his embarrassment.
"Whatever," Isaka mumbled, reminding himself there's a reason sex was no longer allowed when deadlines were on hand.
Asahina sighed and shuffled a half step closer, going for that 'looming' presence he did so well. "You're exhausted. You should go home, get something to eat, and sleep."
Isaka flipped through the pages until he located the one he had been pretending to read earlier. "I can't. We're on a tight schedule here."
Asahina continued standing-unfazed-over him, waiting as patiently as only Asahina could. There was nothing more infuriating then a man with patience. Mulishly, Isaka stared at the catastrophe called his desk. It was even worse than usual as Isaka's typical penchant for piling it as high as humanly possible had caused an avalanche two days ago. Isaka was rather proud of the fact he was still capable of finding everything he needed in the giant mess.
His eyes flicked up to catch Asahina's profile. Isaka's talents were always underappreciated where he was concerned. Isaka wrinkled his nose and went back to ignoring the big lug standing next to him.
Asahina cleared his throat. "You'll be more productive if you take one night to rest. Everyone else has taken that advice and gone home."
Isaka looked around him at the dimly lit room and snorted. "You practically ran them out of here so that hardly counts."
"At least they know a lost battle when they see one."
Isaka bristled, turning to face Asahina full on at last. "Who says I'm losing! I have every intention of staying here all night long. That's what the cot is for. And if you're so concerned for my wellbeing, just bring me something to eat like you did last night and then go away. I can concentrate with you hovering."
Asahina flashed a half-smile. "Or I could haul you out of here by the nape of the neck if you'd prefer. I'm more then capable of tying a knot quick enough to ensure you won't escape."
Isaka's face paled and all his strength left him in a flash of heat at the utter conviction in Asahina's voice. He was weak against the rough intonation and the firm resolve he usually spoke with. He stifled the heat that shot through him a second later. There was no need to let Asahina know just how much he liked the thought of being tied up. In fact, Isaka was going to forget Asahina had even mentioned it.
Isaka swallowed and struggled to keep his voice firm. "Just because you manage to get your way ninety percent of the time doesn't mean I'll let you! I have work and we have an agreement." Isaka stared pointedly at his desk and back at Asahina. "And you're distracting me."
Asahina reached forward and tugged on the edge of Isaka's tie, loosened long ago and barely held together in the slip-knot Asahina had made early that morning. "And I vowed to do what's best for you since the day I was taken into your home." His voice was low and stirring. "I would be breaking that vow if I allowed you to pass out from exhaustion at your desk and die of suffocation when all your books and papers come crashing down around your ears."
His voice had softened, and his eyes deepened in hue as his face drifted nearer to Isaka's. Isaka's resolve wobbled slightly as he leaned forward at the barest hint of a tug on his tie. "I won't pass out," Isaka whispered back, incapable of looking away, docility creeping into his every pore.
"I know you won't," Asahina said, standing straight and letting the silk cloth slide through his fingers. "Because you're coming home, you're going to eat something, and then you're going to bed."
Isaka's resolve crumbled a little at the thought of Asahina's cooking and the comfort of their bed and the warmth of being lulled to sleep with Asahina pressed against his side and the feel of Asahina's lips on his as they kissed goodnight and-Isaka gulped and jerked his eyes away from Asahina's but he wasn't quick enough to avoid seeing that knowing smile break slowly across his lips and need darken his eyes another shade.
No! He was not going back home. Not if it meant exhausting himself with fulfilling his need for Asahina or even worse, unable to sleep thinking of what Isaka wanted to do with a lover sleeping next to him, pressed up again him.
Isaka's broke eye contact, shifting his gaze to the side as he gulped. He had work to do and damn if he didn't hate it right now.
Isaka stood up, automatically powering down his laptop and earmarking his place in the manuscript he had been reading. "Fine. Whatever. I'll take a nap, but I'm not going home and you can make yourself useful by getting me something to eat." Isaka ran a hand through his hair, as he waited for a response.
When none came, Isaka turned on his heel and walked away from him, out the door and towards an unused conference room that he usually claimed for his own when deadlines loomed as they often did. He had made Asahina set up a special futon just for him although the temptation to never wake up was made that much greater because of it.
Isaka smiled slightly at the thought of fresh linens and lightly scented pillows. Maybe he was more tired than he thought (not that he really thought he could sleep at the moment). Silently, Isaka pushed open the door and closed it behind him, not bothering to flick on the light. He had the layout memorized already.
He barely got half-way to the cot when light broke into the room. "Asahina?" Isaka yawned, turning around. Arms crept around his waist and calloused fingers slid up his neck to entangle his hair. Isaka closed his eyes at the light touch, swaying on his feet. Maybe he would be able to sleep. He was practically weak-kneed and ready to keel over.
"Ryuuichirou."
Isaka's breath was stolen as thin lips settled over his, plying them apart with a finesse borne of patience and longing.
Isaka moaned and leaned into Asahina's body, welcoming the warmth, letting it seep into him. His hands clutched the lapels of Asahina's immaculate suit; the polyester catching on his skin as he pressed closer. He whimpered at the taste of mint seeping along his taste buds as Asahina forced Isaka's mouth open wider, slipping his tongue inside.
Isaka pushed against Asahina, panting as they separated and he could freely breathe once again. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he could barely see for the stars that pierced his vision. "Kaowru!" he hissed. "What do you think you're doing!"
"I was kissing you," he said, stepping forward to close the distance that had crept between them.
"This is in breach of our agreement," Isaka accused, trying to suffuse some form of irritation in his voice as he stepped back, keeping Asahina at arm's length.
"Not at all," Asahina replied with childlike warmth. Isaka's body quivered; Asahina's confidence was always his undoing, turning him wild, making him feel insecure to the point of acting out of character.
Why did he have to fall in love with such a man?
Isaka gulped. The better question was why did Asahina love him? He turned his face away and backed into the wall, trying to put space between them.
"I'm taking care of you."
Isaka felt the whisper of a kiss cross his lips, the light creeping under the door sufficient only in making Asahina's silhouette visible. Asahina kissed Isaka's jaw, tasting Isaka's skin with a quick dart of his tongue.
Isaka's pulse quickened and his knees buckled slightly under the weight of his trembling. Inability to stand was all the excuse he needed to give in to the long hours of work and the days he had forced himself to keep his lover at a distance.
Isaka growled, pulling on Asahina's jacket. "I hate you."
He opened his mouth under Asahina's, drinking of him, tasting the toothpaste Asahina had used to brush his teeth and the wetness that flowed from one mouth to another. Resistance was futile and Asahina always knew what he needed before Isaka did, always watched over him, cared for him. Isaka was spoiled, and loved acting like a brat to give Asahina more of a reason to pamper him.
But he loved it when Asahina refused to allow Isaka to act like a responsible adult; it allowed Asahina to act a little like the child he should have been, demanding, wanting. Isaka leaned closer, his fingers sliding along the rough polyester, pen calloused fingers catching on the minute imperfections of the fabric as they sought out each button.
The cool plastic slipped between his fingers, easily giving up their treasure as his other hand caressed the fabric revealed underneath. Asahina was wearing too many damn layers!
Asahina caught Isaka's hands in his own, pressing them together so he could grip them in one. Isaka wrinkled his nose and pulled, trying to free his hands. But Asahina was onto him, ravishing his mouth with new fervor, distracting Isaka with the sound of their lips pressing together and parting, of the sensation of silk gliding over his wrists in one long, sensuous slide, and of the taste of Asahina flooding into his mouth as Asahina's tongue slipped inside once more.
Goosebumps spread across his skin, and Isaka jerked his hands again. "What-"
Asahina stifled his words, pressing his knee against Isaka with a finesse that made stars explode behind Isaka's eyes. But it wasn't enough, not yet.
Isaka bit his lip. He really wanted to touch Asahina.
"Be quiet," Asahina lectured, stepping back slightly, lessening the friction that had nearly made him fall apart. It had been far too long since he's had release. Asahina stepped back again, and the loss of contact was nearly debilitating.
Isaka frowned at the shift of silk pressed tight against his wrists. "Did you just tie me up?" Isaka growled incredulously, loosing track of Asahina altogether in the pitch black of the room.
"I did."
Isaka stepped towards Asahina's voice. It sounded a little lower to the ground than usual. "Where are you?" he asked, peering around with his eyes as wide as he could make them, waiting for his eyes to readjust to the minimal light creeping into the room.
"Here," Isaka felt a warm hand touch his arm, pulling him forward and Isaka followed where they led: with his knees pressed on the futon and his body pulled flush against Asahina's.
"Isn't this going too far," he asked, running his bound hands down Asahina's shirt front, looking for more buttons to undo. His hands were tied, but he still had use of his fingers.
Asahina grunted disdainfully. Isaka moaned softly at the touch of moist air against his clavicle. Another puff of air slid lower to hit his sternum, and Isaka shifted higher, pressing his lower body more fully against Asahina's stomach. He wanted to be touched, he wanted to be teased, he didn’t want Asahina to hold back. A curve of a smile left a kiss on Isaka's chest, light and moist, and a startling contrast to the cool air of the conference room.
Isaka fumbled with a button, his fingers flexing around the obstruction with every distracting, lingering kiss that Asahina placed on his body. His bound hands were a hindrance, but the weight of Asahina's fingers on top of his kept him from shaking off his bonds, even as Asahina's free hand continued to torture him with its slow progress.
Isaka was nearly shaking with need now.
Finally, finally Asahina slid his hand underneath his shirt, breaking the white edges apart with the movement of his hand up the plane of his stomach, moving to caress his chest, lingering for a moment as he kissed it. Isaka trembled, clinging to the fabric that still clothed Asahina's body against his express wishes.
Asahina's hand slid further upwards, over his shoulder and around to the nape of his neck, caressing the fine hairs that covered it, causing the tingles to spread in slow waves straight to Isaka's painfully still constricted erection. A tug on his neck pushed him forward, their lips meshing with hard kisses, hot kisses that reverberated deep within his body as his heart pounded, as his knees gave way and they tumbled fully unto the futon.
"Kaowru," Isaka gasped. "Touch me," he pleaded, thrusting upwards against Asahina, trying to convey what he wanted, needed. Asahina continued to kiss him, continued to hold him as the hand that had been a weight on Isaka's wrist drifted lower and unzipped his pants with an economy of movement that denied the slow pace he had been touched with thus far.
The relief of freedom wasn't denied Isaka for very long, and cotton of his briefs was pushed aside as Asahina palmed his erection, molded his hand around the shaft and cupped him with those long fingers that denied him continuously.
Isaka's entire body arched forward, throwing his head back as he tried to hold back his release. He wanted to be touched just a little longer, just a little more. There was only going to be once tonight; he could already feel the lethargy suffusing his limbs.
"Ryuuichirou," Asahina murmured in his ear, gently biting the outer shell and lathing the hurt away, demanding Iskaa's full attention. Isaka shivered at the rough sensation gliding over his skin, and shuddered again when his body jerked against Asahina's hand.
Not fair, attacking on two fronts.
"Kaowru," Isaka demanded, tugging on Asahina's shirt and freeing it at last. "Fuck me," he demanded, wrapping his legs around Asahina's hips. And Asahina, perfect, irascible servant that he was, complied.
Isaka winced as Asahina's fingers gently pried him apart, the lube that had magically appeared from nowhere (and no doubt planted by Asahina when he set up the futon several days ago) was cold against his flesh. By slow degrees, it took on the warmth of his body, and Isaka wriggled closer as best he could with his arms pulled taut above his head and Asahina looming over him, but not touching except where his fingers caressed his insides.
In an instance, Isaka's body clenched tight, his body numb as he came on his chest, his whole body throbbing as Asahina pressed against his prostrate. Still gasping for air, Isaka nearly convulsed again as Asahina entered him, gentle but insistent, pressing.
Isaka whimpered and fought to unclench his muscles, his eyes still seeing sparkles and explosions dancing on his eyelids, his semen smeared across his chest in sticky pools, cooling quickly despite the heat pressing down on him, within him.
"Just a little more," Asahina whispered, pressing kisses all along Isaka's face and neck, waiting for just that extra bit of room he needed to freely move.
Isaka could almost feel the damp of sweat radiating off of Asahina and he didn't care. He pulled Asahina closer against him, slipping his bound hands up and over Asahina's neck. Asahina began to move, rolling his hips slightly at first, rocking gently back and forth in time to his shallow breaths.
Isaka stifled a groan as he fought to keep his muscles relaxed. Eight days was far too long to go without fulfillment. Isaka felt stretched thin. Isaka had already come once; Asahina was already buried within him.
Isaka pressed Asahina closer to him, catching his lips in a rough sensuous slide of chaffed lips against chaffed lips. Deepening the kiss, Isaka waited, exploring while still basking in the residual lethargy of his orgasm, thrusting back as the pain lessened to encourage Asahina to his end.
Minutes later, Isaka felt Asahina stiffen, trembling as he held still in an attempt to hold onto the precipice another second longer. Isaka flexed his muscles, clenching around Asahina's shaft and watched as Asahina tumbled, searing heat filling his body uncomfortably full.
Their gasps were the only thing that broke the silence, their bodies cooling rapidly as they held still, neither moving nor wanting the moment to end. But it did, and Asahina shifted slightly, pulling out of Isaka's body. With an economy of movement that was typical of him, Asahina cleaned up his mess, pulling a towel out of nowhere to wipe down Isaka first, and then himself, the condom he had used already tied off and set into the garbage and Isaka's tie unknotted and set aside for pressing.
Their eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness around them, at least enough to see the outline of shapes.
Isaka's eyes drifted closed as he watched his servant, his secretary, his lover and childhood friend pace around the small conference room, clearing away the evidence of their liaison. Rest assured that everything was taken care of, Isaka fell asleep, knowing that Asahina would watch over him and wake him after he had more sleep then he wanted, but far less then Asahina wished him to have.
And later, he'd get his revenge with a nice long weekend for two.
------
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Written for: frostberryjam @ junjou_fest
Pairing: Isaka/Asahina (Junjou Mistake)
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 3,796
Warnings: Smut, Yaoi
Summary: Deadlines and exhaustion are never a good combination, but Isaka is determined to persevere above all others to get the job done. With Asahina there to watch over him, Isaka is sure to have all his needs fulfilled.
Authors Notes: This was originally written for junjou_fest and slightly reedited and posted here in my writing comm. I'd also like to point that took the most often used name spellings from dangerous pleasure's scanlations of junjou mistake. This fic was unexpectedly challenging with almost 1200 words of smut discarded because these boys did not want to get it on as originally written, but I think they knew what they were doing as it didn't turn out half bad, IMO. Hopefully everyone else will agree with me.
Underlying Tension
Isaka hunched over his desk. He could feel Asahina patiently watching over him from across the room as he had done almost every single night for the past eight days. Just standing there, watching him.
He shivered as a chill went down his spine.
He wasn't the only one feeling the heavy weight of Asahina's measured, calculating stare. The near silent scrape of chairs being pushed back across the tiled floor was one of a handful of indications that his coworkers were making a getaway. Lamps were shut-off cloaking the room in ever increasing shadows, and the tell-tale music of computers shutting down pinged back and forth across the space as one by one, they left with unproofed manuscripts shoved into purses and briefcases.
They had started making their escape two days ago, just as they did today rather than waiting to see what new row Isaka would get into with Asahina. Isaka wasn't about to blame them for it, even as another shiver ran down his spine and made the pencil fall from his hand.
Murakawa Publishing was in the middle of several tough deadlines, one for their most lucrative seller-Usami Akihiko had no respect for deadlines-and the other for their monthly anthology release. The exhaustion was affecting everyone's work; Isaka knew he was no exception, but he was their best and fastest editor.
Isaka smirked.
It was the only thing he was good at, after all.
Isaka paused, a page held in mid-turn as thoughts of Akihiko and his newest paramour filled his head. Teasing his neighbor was one of his greatest foils, and a thorough session was more than deserved at the last six days of utter hell. Isaka grinned, already thinking of orchestrating another promotional event featuring one Usami Akihiko.
It would be music to his ears, the excuses and absurd measures to which Akihiko went to avoid leaving his apartment with work in mind. Isaka chuckled. It was especially fun when he managed to convince Akihiko there was an event when it was made purely out of thing air and usually spur of the moment as well.
Too bad there was that brat hanging with him every day now. It made it much less satisfying to pick a fight with Akihiko. To damn protective. No fun whatsoever.
Isaka frowned and snagged another pencil from behind his ear. That was an unpleasant experience. The last time he had a tough deadline, Asahina had forced him out for dinner to eat, and just when things had started getting interesting-Misaki's face was falling by the second!-Asahina had to go and drag him out by the collar of his shirt.
Isaka flicked a glance towards the door and scowled. There was yet another reason he wasn't in the mood to give Asahina the time of day. He sniffed, and turned back to his manuscript, carefully reading each line.
He didn't get far, especially with pages floating haphazardly across his desk and his heart beating a mile a minute. Isaka hissed. "Asahina, you dumbass; don't scare me like that!" He scrambled for pages, stuffing them back into a pile and loosely in order.
"Sorry," Asahina blandly, reaching over Isaka to snag a few pages from the top of a three foot pile of books and earmarked manuscripts.
Isaka grabbed the page out of Asahina's hands. "Whatever. Go away and don't ever do that again." Isaka glared at Asahina from the corner of his eye.
He shouldn't have looked. The slight shrug was more than annoying. It was downright rude and condescending and Isaka refused to take that from anyone except himself and maybe his mother, if he was in a good mood.
Isaka's brow twitched. He could already hear the mild sufferance in Asahina's voice which never bode well for him. It usually ended up with him stumbling to keep up and getting dragged somewhere he'd much rather not be.
Like as what happened after the Akihiko event; Asahina had dragged him home, lecturing constantly on Isaka's bad manners and why'd he have to pick a fight with their number one seller and it was all Isaka could do to tune him out. It wasn't until Isaka found himself half naked and sprawled out on the floor, still drunk, that Isaka thought better of ignoring Asahina. That night had been more grueling and exhausting and utterly fantastic than any previous night before or since.
Isaka hid his blush behind the shuffling of manuscript pages as he hurriedly finished putting them in order. He had been forced to work from home the next day, much to his embarrassment.
"Whatever," Isaka mumbled, reminding himself there's a reason sex was no longer allowed when deadlines were on hand.
Asahina sighed and shuffled a half step closer, going for that 'looming' presence he did so well. "You're exhausted. You should go home, get something to eat, and sleep."
Isaka flipped through the pages until he located the one he had been pretending to read earlier. "I can't. We're on a tight schedule here."
Asahina continued standing-unfazed-over him, waiting as patiently as only Asahina could. There was nothing more infuriating then a man with patience. Mulishly, Isaka stared at the catastrophe called his desk. It was even worse than usual as Isaka's typical penchant for piling it as high as humanly possible had caused an avalanche two days ago. Isaka was rather proud of the fact he was still capable of finding everything he needed in the giant mess.
His eyes flicked up to catch Asahina's profile. Isaka's talents were always underappreciated where he was concerned. Isaka wrinkled his nose and went back to ignoring the big lug standing next to him.
Asahina cleared his throat. "You'll be more productive if you take one night to rest. Everyone else has taken that advice and gone home."
Isaka looked around him at the dimly lit room and snorted. "You practically ran them out of here so that hardly counts."
"At least they know a lost battle when they see one."
Isaka bristled, turning to face Asahina full on at last. "Who says I'm losing! I have every intention of staying here all night long. That's what the cot is for. And if you're so concerned for my wellbeing, just bring me something to eat like you did last night and then go away. I can concentrate with you hovering."
Asahina flashed a half-smile. "Or I could haul you out of here by the nape of the neck if you'd prefer. I'm more then capable of tying a knot quick enough to ensure you won't escape."
Isaka's face paled and all his strength left him in a flash of heat at the utter conviction in Asahina's voice. He was weak against the rough intonation and the firm resolve he usually spoke with. He stifled the heat that shot through him a second later. There was no need to let Asahina know just how much he liked the thought of being tied up. In fact, Isaka was going to forget Asahina had even mentioned it.
Isaka swallowed and struggled to keep his voice firm. "Just because you manage to get your way ninety percent of the time doesn't mean I'll let you! I have work and we have an agreement." Isaka stared pointedly at his desk and back at Asahina. "And you're distracting me."
Asahina reached forward and tugged on the edge of Isaka's tie, loosened long ago and barely held together in the slip-knot Asahina had made early that morning. "And I vowed to do what's best for you since the day I was taken into your home." His voice was low and stirring. "I would be breaking that vow if I allowed you to pass out from exhaustion at your desk and die of suffocation when all your books and papers come crashing down around your ears."
His voice had softened, and his eyes deepened in hue as his face drifted nearer to Isaka's. Isaka's resolve wobbled slightly as he leaned forward at the barest hint of a tug on his tie. "I won't pass out," Isaka whispered back, incapable of looking away, docility creeping into his every pore.
"I know you won't," Asahina said, standing straight and letting the silk cloth slide through his fingers. "Because you're coming home, you're going to eat something, and then you're going to bed."
Isaka's resolve crumbled a little at the thought of Asahina's cooking and the comfort of their bed and the warmth of being lulled to sleep with Asahina pressed against his side and the feel of Asahina's lips on his as they kissed goodnight and-Isaka gulped and jerked his eyes away from Asahina's but he wasn't quick enough to avoid seeing that knowing smile break slowly across his lips and need darken his eyes another shade.
No! He was not going back home. Not if it meant exhausting himself with fulfilling his need for Asahina or even worse, unable to sleep thinking of what Isaka wanted to do with a lover sleeping next to him, pressed up again him.
Isaka's broke eye contact, shifting his gaze to the side as he gulped. He had work to do and damn if he didn't hate it right now.
Isaka stood up, automatically powering down his laptop and earmarking his place in the manuscript he had been reading. "Fine. Whatever. I'll take a nap, but I'm not going home and you can make yourself useful by getting me something to eat." Isaka ran a hand through his hair, as he waited for a response.
When none came, Isaka turned on his heel and walked away from him, out the door and towards an unused conference room that he usually claimed for his own when deadlines loomed as they often did. He had made Asahina set up a special futon just for him although the temptation to never wake up was made that much greater because of it.
Isaka smiled slightly at the thought of fresh linens and lightly scented pillows. Maybe he was more tired than he thought (not that he really thought he could sleep at the moment). Silently, Isaka pushed open the door and closed it behind him, not bothering to flick on the light. He had the layout memorized already.
He barely got half-way to the cot when light broke into the room. "Asahina?" Isaka yawned, turning around. Arms crept around his waist and calloused fingers slid up his neck to entangle his hair. Isaka closed his eyes at the light touch, swaying on his feet. Maybe he would be able to sleep. He was practically weak-kneed and ready to keel over.
"Ryuuichirou."
Isaka's breath was stolen as thin lips settled over his, plying them apart with a finesse borne of patience and longing.
Isaka moaned and leaned into Asahina's body, welcoming the warmth, letting it seep into him. His hands clutched the lapels of Asahina's immaculate suit; the polyester catching on his skin as he pressed closer. He whimpered at the taste of mint seeping along his taste buds as Asahina forced Isaka's mouth open wider, slipping his tongue inside.
Isaka pushed against Asahina, panting as they separated and he could freely breathe once again. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he could barely see for the stars that pierced his vision. "Kaowru!" he hissed. "What do you think you're doing!"
"I was kissing you," he said, stepping forward to close the distance that had crept between them.
"This is in breach of our agreement," Isaka accused, trying to suffuse some form of irritation in his voice as he stepped back, keeping Asahina at arm's length.
"Not at all," Asahina replied with childlike warmth. Isaka's body quivered; Asahina's confidence was always his undoing, turning him wild, making him feel insecure to the point of acting out of character.
Why did he have to fall in love with such a man?
Isaka gulped. The better question was why did Asahina love him? He turned his face away and backed into the wall, trying to put space between them.
"I'm taking care of you."
Isaka felt the whisper of a kiss cross his lips, the light creeping under the door sufficient only in making Asahina's silhouette visible. Asahina kissed Isaka's jaw, tasting Isaka's skin with a quick dart of his tongue.
Isaka's pulse quickened and his knees buckled slightly under the weight of his trembling. Inability to stand was all the excuse he needed to give in to the long hours of work and the days he had forced himself to keep his lover at a distance.
Isaka growled, pulling on Asahina's jacket. "I hate you."
He opened his mouth under Asahina's, drinking of him, tasting the toothpaste Asahina had used to brush his teeth and the wetness that flowed from one mouth to another. Resistance was futile and Asahina always knew what he needed before Isaka did, always watched over him, cared for him. Isaka was spoiled, and loved acting like a brat to give Asahina more of a reason to pamper him.
But he loved it when Asahina refused to allow Isaka to act like a responsible adult; it allowed Asahina to act a little like the child he should have been, demanding, wanting. Isaka leaned closer, his fingers sliding along the rough polyester, pen calloused fingers catching on the minute imperfections of the fabric as they sought out each button.
The cool plastic slipped between his fingers, easily giving up their treasure as his other hand caressed the fabric revealed underneath. Asahina was wearing too many damn layers!
Asahina caught Isaka's hands in his own, pressing them together so he could grip them in one. Isaka wrinkled his nose and pulled, trying to free his hands. But Asahina was onto him, ravishing his mouth with new fervor, distracting Isaka with the sound of their lips pressing together and parting, of the sensation of silk gliding over his wrists in one long, sensuous slide, and of the taste of Asahina flooding into his mouth as Asahina's tongue slipped inside once more.
Goosebumps spread across his skin, and Isaka jerked his hands again. "What-"
Asahina stifled his words, pressing his knee against Isaka with a finesse that made stars explode behind Isaka's eyes. But it wasn't enough, not yet.
Isaka bit his lip. He really wanted to touch Asahina.
"Be quiet," Asahina lectured, stepping back slightly, lessening the friction that had nearly made him fall apart. It had been far too long since he's had release. Asahina stepped back again, and the loss of contact was nearly debilitating.
Isaka frowned at the shift of silk pressed tight against his wrists. "Did you just tie me up?" Isaka growled incredulously, loosing track of Asahina altogether in the pitch black of the room.
"I did."
Isaka stepped towards Asahina's voice. It sounded a little lower to the ground than usual. "Where are you?" he asked, peering around with his eyes as wide as he could make them, waiting for his eyes to readjust to the minimal light creeping into the room.
"Here," Isaka felt a warm hand touch his arm, pulling him forward and Isaka followed where they led: with his knees pressed on the futon and his body pulled flush against Asahina's.
"Isn't this going too far," he asked, running his bound hands down Asahina's shirt front, looking for more buttons to undo. His hands were tied, but he still had use of his fingers.
Asahina grunted disdainfully. Isaka moaned softly at the touch of moist air against his clavicle. Another puff of air slid lower to hit his sternum, and Isaka shifted higher, pressing his lower body more fully against Asahina's stomach. He wanted to be touched, he wanted to be teased, he didn’t want Asahina to hold back. A curve of a smile left a kiss on Isaka's chest, light and moist, and a startling contrast to the cool air of the conference room.
Isaka fumbled with a button, his fingers flexing around the obstruction with every distracting, lingering kiss that Asahina placed on his body. His bound hands were a hindrance, but the weight of Asahina's fingers on top of his kept him from shaking off his bonds, even as Asahina's free hand continued to torture him with its slow progress.
Isaka was nearly shaking with need now.
Finally, finally Asahina slid his hand underneath his shirt, breaking the white edges apart with the movement of his hand up the plane of his stomach, moving to caress his chest, lingering for a moment as he kissed it. Isaka trembled, clinging to the fabric that still clothed Asahina's body against his express wishes.
Asahina's hand slid further upwards, over his shoulder and around to the nape of his neck, caressing the fine hairs that covered it, causing the tingles to spread in slow waves straight to Isaka's painfully still constricted erection. A tug on his neck pushed him forward, their lips meshing with hard kisses, hot kisses that reverberated deep within his body as his heart pounded, as his knees gave way and they tumbled fully unto the futon.
"Kaowru," Isaka gasped. "Touch me," he pleaded, thrusting upwards against Asahina, trying to convey what he wanted, needed. Asahina continued to kiss him, continued to hold him as the hand that had been a weight on Isaka's wrist drifted lower and unzipped his pants with an economy of movement that denied the slow pace he had been touched with thus far.
The relief of freedom wasn't denied Isaka for very long, and cotton of his briefs was pushed aside as Asahina palmed his erection, molded his hand around the shaft and cupped him with those long fingers that denied him continuously.
Isaka's entire body arched forward, throwing his head back as he tried to hold back his release. He wanted to be touched just a little longer, just a little more. There was only going to be once tonight; he could already feel the lethargy suffusing his limbs.
"Ryuuichirou," Asahina murmured in his ear, gently biting the outer shell and lathing the hurt away, demanding Iskaa's full attention. Isaka shivered at the rough sensation gliding over his skin, and shuddered again when his body jerked against Asahina's hand.
Not fair, attacking on two fronts.
"Kaowru," Isaka demanded, tugging on Asahina's shirt and freeing it at last. "Fuck me," he demanded, wrapping his legs around Asahina's hips. And Asahina, perfect, irascible servant that he was, complied.
Isaka winced as Asahina's fingers gently pried him apart, the lube that had magically appeared from nowhere (and no doubt planted by Asahina when he set up the futon several days ago) was cold against his flesh. By slow degrees, it took on the warmth of his body, and Isaka wriggled closer as best he could with his arms pulled taut above his head and Asahina looming over him, but not touching except where his fingers caressed his insides.
In an instance, Isaka's body clenched tight, his body numb as he came on his chest, his whole body throbbing as Asahina pressed against his prostrate. Still gasping for air, Isaka nearly convulsed again as Asahina entered him, gentle but insistent, pressing.
Isaka whimpered and fought to unclench his muscles, his eyes still seeing sparkles and explosions dancing on his eyelids, his semen smeared across his chest in sticky pools, cooling quickly despite the heat pressing down on him, within him.
"Just a little more," Asahina whispered, pressing kisses all along Isaka's face and neck, waiting for just that extra bit of room he needed to freely move.
Isaka could almost feel the damp of sweat radiating off of Asahina and he didn't care. He pulled Asahina closer against him, slipping his bound hands up and over Asahina's neck. Asahina began to move, rolling his hips slightly at first, rocking gently back and forth in time to his shallow breaths.
Isaka stifled a groan as he fought to keep his muscles relaxed. Eight days was far too long to go without fulfillment. Isaka felt stretched thin. Isaka had already come once; Asahina was already buried within him.
Isaka pressed Asahina closer to him, catching his lips in a rough sensuous slide of chaffed lips against chaffed lips. Deepening the kiss, Isaka waited, exploring while still basking in the residual lethargy of his orgasm, thrusting back as the pain lessened to encourage Asahina to his end.
Minutes later, Isaka felt Asahina stiffen, trembling as he held still in an attempt to hold onto the precipice another second longer. Isaka flexed his muscles, clenching around Asahina's shaft and watched as Asahina tumbled, searing heat filling his body uncomfortably full.
Their gasps were the only thing that broke the silence, their bodies cooling rapidly as they held still, neither moving nor wanting the moment to end. But it did, and Asahina shifted slightly, pulling out of Isaka's body. With an economy of movement that was typical of him, Asahina cleaned up his mess, pulling a towel out of nowhere to wipe down Isaka first, and then himself, the condom he had used already tied off and set into the garbage and Isaka's tie unknotted and set aside for pressing.
Their eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness around them, at least enough to see the outline of shapes.
Isaka's eyes drifted closed as he watched his servant, his secretary, his lover and childhood friend pace around the small conference room, clearing away the evidence of their liaison. Rest assured that everything was taken care of, Isaka fell asleep, knowing that Asahina would watch over him and wake him after he had more sleep then he wanted, but far less then Asahina wished him to have.
And later, he'd get his revenge with a nice long weekend for two.
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