Asami takes Akihito around the worl

Asami takes Akihito around the world, and he eventually has to pay the price.
-
The cycle began within their first year together. Akihito made a candid remark while flipping through his favorite travel magazine.

“Isn’t that awesome, Asami?” He still called his lover by his last name and dropped the folded magazine onto Asami’s newspaper without any warning. “Look at the way the light trickles over the mountains and down in the crater…”

He launched into a full-out photographer’s ramble about which camera, lens, and even solution he’d use to get that effect before switching to the different apps that could manage such a breathtaking picture.

“So, really, you could probably take this with an iPhone 6 Plus, but still, I’d much rather use my camera. One day, I’m going to go there and capture an even better picture, one that no doubt will get in all the—”

One glance at Asami stopped Akihito in mid-sentence. Looking back, the older man was listening indulgently, thoughtfully even, the smirk more affectionate than cruel, but Akihito still felt like an interloper rather than welcome partner in their apartment. So he stole back his magazine, hit Asami on the shoulder, and stormed off in an erroneous righteous rage.

Then, less than three weeks later, Akihito had been too distracted with Asami’s hands and lips and tongue to really discern that Asami carried him onto a plane. His first true realization came when the engines growled to life, and he and Asami had been knocked off the bed upon take-off. And by then, it had been too late to escape. Asami effectively distracted him for the next hour or so before he finally passed out, but by sunset the next day, they stood above Keli Mutu, Indonesia, Akihito choosing his lenses and positions precisely, a stupid smile indenting his face.

That was two years ago, wherein they’d flown to New York, London, Madrid, even sections of Africa and the Middle East. Akihito would make a passing comment here and there about places he wanted to photograph, and not long after, Asami would whisk him away, promising him authentic Chinese food (was it Akihito’s fault he only ate the real deal?) and instead, found himself on the other side of the world. Thank God he worked freelance.

But Machu Picchu was the limit. They’d been gone almost a full ten days, hiking through the Andes Mountains with a personal guide, along with Kirishima and Suoh, of course. The pictures Akihito snapped, including a generous number of his lover, were breathtaking with an indescribable beauty. Asami took his bag, allowing Akihito to snap at his leisure, and when they stood above the ruins, the warmth of the morning sun cradling their cheeks, Akihito dropped his head and fidgeted with his camera.

“Y’know, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

He felt the sideways glance Asami shot him, then smelled the sweet stench of nicotine as Asami offered it to the bluing sky. “I never had to do it in the first place,” was his simple answer.

Akihito rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. I really appreciate it, but there’s no way I can match this—or any of the trips you’ve taken me on.”

“I didn’t realize we were in competition.”

Aren’t you always? Akihito thought, but that was unfair and he knew it. He blew out a sigh and let his camera hang from his neck. “Look, it’s really generous and all, but…they need to stop, okay? This was perfect. Let’s leave it at this.”

A hand encompassed his hand, ruffing his locks softly. “Hm.”

Akihito huffed. “Ryu—”

“If you feel the need to match this and can’t, then I guess I’ll just have to take the rest of your life as payment.” There was a sudden coldness and weight on his fourth finger, which was promptly warmed by Asami’s cupping hands.

Akihito blinked down at the ring, seeing its partner on Asami’s hand, and snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve seriously been planning this for two years.”