[Viewfinder - Asami/Takaba]
title: box of crackerjacks
author: merith
warnings: BL, mature content, language, potential violence
theme: romance
rating: R
author's notes: I'm a bit over the limit, sorry!
Part I: Attraction
The shot was going to be perfect; it was the perfect set up - the perfect angle - the perfect subject. He slowly lowered to his knees, bringing the camera up and readied the lens. A meaty hand clamped down on his arm and another snatched the Nikkon from his grip.
“C’mon, kid. Boss wants to see you,” the goon in a designer suit stated, already pulling him to his feet, directing him to the waiting limo.
“Wait a minute!” Takaba was shouting. “I don’t want to see him! Let me go, asshole!” Impossible, he knew, but he jerked his arm and dragged his feet. The mountain of a man was unstoppable; Takaba was going nowhere - at least, no where he wanted to go.
At the high-rise, he beat the goons from the car, stormed past security and rode the elevator up in a temper-checked silence. Asami’s guards were alert when the doors opened, only to relax. If only looks could kill, his would have. Less than a threat, Takaba threw open the penthouse door, and shouted for his lover.
“Damn it, Asami!” He was through the entryway and into the lounge. “You had no right to drag me away...” Words died instantly.
The boss of his viewfinder’s subject sat in one of the chairs opposite Asami. Both men looked up; the political figure with rumors that tied him to a rival mob syndicate had an appraising eye. Asami only raised a brow, lifted one side of his mouth and turned back to his guest.
“We can continue this discussion later, premier.” Asami stood, his intention clear.
“Very well.” The other man rose, gave a short nod to Asami, and look to Takaba and left the room.
The door hadn’t closed when Takaba’s escort entered. He remained at the door, hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the room without seeming to.
“Mister Akihito’s possessions are clean and ready for when he leaves,” he announced, his eyes landing on the Takaba briefly.
Asami inclined his head. “Was he compromised?” Asami had already returned to his seat, ignoring Takaba.
Another glance in Takaba’s direction. “Not that we were able to discover.”
“Good. You’re dismissed...”
“Wait!” Takaba moved to stand in front of his lover. “Your goons take my camera, strip the film and haul me off at a whim and you call this good?” His fists clenched, he bent low to glare in Asami’s face. “I had an excellent shot! Just because you’re doing business with a corrupted politician doesn’t mean I not going to expose him!”
“But you’re not,” Asami told him. “If you’d succeeded in taking the picture without getting killed, then you would be shortly after.”
His head jerking away at the serious tone, Takaba’s mouth opened and then closed. Asami chose that moment to latch onto the open folds of Takaba’s shirt and pull. Suddenly, Takaba was being kissed, and he brought a hand up, clutching the wrist at his shirt; his other hand rose to shove himself away. The kiss lengthened, and his hand betrayed him, straying to thread fingers in Asami’s hair instead.
Their kiss broke; knees weak, Takaba leaned on the edge of Asami’s chair and sucked his lower lip into his mouth. “But my photo...” his protest was as weak as his knees.
Fingers ran along his jawline and withdrew. “You’ll have your photo opportunity,” Asami smiled. “In three days.” Takaba started to speak and found a finger over his lips. “Three days.”
Again, the serious tone stopped him short. “Three days.” There was no give, but Asami’s world was a dangerous one. He nodded and let Asami pull him down for another kiss.
~enjoy!
author: merith
warnings: BL, mature content, language, potential violence
theme: romance
rating: R
author's notes: I'm a bit over the limit, sorry!
Part I: Attraction
The shot was going to be perfect; it was the perfect set up - the perfect angle - the perfect subject. He slowly lowered to his knees, bringing the camera up and readied the lens. A meaty hand clamped down on his arm and another snatched the Nikkon from his grip.
“C’mon, kid. Boss wants to see you,” the goon in a designer suit stated, already pulling him to his feet, directing him to the waiting limo.
“Wait a minute!” Takaba was shouting. “I don’t want to see him! Let me go, asshole!” Impossible, he knew, but he jerked his arm and dragged his feet. The mountain of a man was unstoppable; Takaba was going nowhere - at least, no where he wanted to go.
At the high-rise, he beat the goons from the car, stormed past security and rode the elevator up in a temper-checked silence. Asami’s guards were alert when the doors opened, only to relax. If only looks could kill, his would have. Less than a threat, Takaba threw open the penthouse door, and shouted for his lover.
“Damn it, Asami!” He was through the entryway and into the lounge. “You had no right to drag me away...” Words died instantly.
The boss of his viewfinder’s subject sat in one of the chairs opposite Asami. Both men looked up; the political figure with rumors that tied him to a rival mob syndicate had an appraising eye. Asami only raised a brow, lifted one side of his mouth and turned back to his guest.
“We can continue this discussion later, premier.” Asami stood, his intention clear.
“Very well.” The other man rose, gave a short nod to Asami, and look to Takaba and left the room.
The door hadn’t closed when Takaba’s escort entered. He remained at the door, hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the room without seeming to.
“Mister Akihito’s possessions are clean and ready for when he leaves,” he announced, his eyes landing on the Takaba briefly.
Asami inclined his head. “Was he compromised?” Asami had already returned to his seat, ignoring Takaba.
Another glance in Takaba’s direction. “Not that we were able to discover.”
“Good. You’re dismissed...”
“Wait!” Takaba moved to stand in front of his lover. “Your goons take my camera, strip the film and haul me off at a whim and you call this good?” His fists clenched, he bent low to glare in Asami’s face. “I had an excellent shot! Just because you’re doing business with a corrupted politician doesn’t mean I not going to expose him!”
“But you’re not,” Asami told him. “If you’d succeeded in taking the picture without getting killed, then you would be shortly after.”
His head jerking away at the serious tone, Takaba’s mouth opened and then closed. Asami chose that moment to latch onto the open folds of Takaba’s shirt and pull. Suddenly, Takaba was being kissed, and he brought a hand up, clutching the wrist at his shirt; his other hand rose to shove himself away. The kiss lengthened, and his hand betrayed him, straying to thread fingers in Asami’s hair instead.
Their kiss broke; knees weak, Takaba leaned on the edge of Asami’s chair and sucked his lower lip into his mouth. “But my photo...” his protest was as weak as his knees.
Fingers ran along his jawline and withdrew. “You’ll have your photo opportunity,” Asami smiled. “In three days.” Takaba started to speak and found a finger over his lips. “Three days.”
Again, the serious tone stopped him short. “Three days.” There was no give, but Asami’s world was a dangerous one. He nodded and let Asami pull him down for another kiss.
~enjoy!