Akihito held the hand Asami had acr

Akihito held the hand Asami had across his stomach and smiled. "So were you."

A kiss was planted to his crown as the man relaxed behind him.

"Stay the night?" Asami asked softly and Akihito nodded with a smile.

"I will."

Deciding that sleep would do him all too well at the moment too, Akihito allowed his heavy eyes to roam over Asami's dresser, which was the one object in his line of vision. His gaze landed on a family picture of Asami, young Toya and a woman obviously her mother. They were too happy in their close up for it to be a random woman. He wanted to ask where she was or if she died.

But as it stood, the need to rest after such intense rounds of sexual activity caused Akihito to black out a few moments later.

*****MxF*****

Asami returned to that little coffee shop down the block where he first met Akihito the next day, needing to get his coffee fix after a long and particularly difficult surgery including a woman with inflammatory heart disease. It was really touch and go since she was in the advance stages because she didn't recognize the early symptoms for what they were, but, he managed to be successful, and now his body and mind could feel the burn of all that hard work. The dark roast he held in his hands gave off a relaxing, smoky aroma that filled his nostrils, lending greatly to his current unwinding.

But there was one pleasant thing currently on his mind, and it was his Akihito.

Yes, his, because staking claim was only natural.

The coffee shop was mostly empty and he reveled in the silence, closing his eyes while his mind drifted, yet again, to the teen. Last night was simply amazing, stirring emotions he hadn't felt in a while. That lithe, sexy form, that come-hither look, Akihito's firm, round rear….

"Ryuichi-kun!"

Eyes flying open in bewilderment, Asami was greeted with the sparkling orbs of one Mikhail Arbatov staring down at him. He frowned.

Arbatov just invited himself into the seat facing Asami around the small table and the crease in his forehead deepened.

"Arbatov, doesn't somebody need a breast implant or tummy tuck…?"

The blond laughed heartily. "Asami, are you trying to be funny? Try harder!"

Asami sighed in resignation; there was no getting through to this idiot.

"Anyway, I need to talk to you about Feilong," Mikhail whispered conspiratorially.

Asami raised one eyebrow in question. "I take it trying to break through his bedroom window didn't work?"

Mikhail chuckled nervously. "Who knew he would buy Rottweilers to guard his home all of a sudden?"

The one with the blue collar especially did a number on his ass when he tried to jump Feilong's fence to escape.

Asami took another sip of his coffee before leaning back in his chair and squared his shoulders. "Actually, I'm not interested in your affairs, go bother somebody else."

Ignoring Asami's dismissive tone, Mikhail continued. "That's the problem, I'll catch a grenade for him and he doesn't seem to care."

Asami would have laughed at Mikhail's frustrated tone but knew that would only egg him on, so he kept his face into a small frown.

"And what does that have to do with me?"

Mikhail leaned further over the table, causing Asami to pull back. "You grew up with him, what does he like, how can I win him over?"

Asami feigned interest, Arbatov was something else. "So printing his face on your underwear and making sure his lips were by your crotch still had no effect?"

Mikhail's shoulders slumped in defeat. "No it didn't help, as a matter of fact I sported a black eye for a few days after that incident. Please tell me what he would like, what would make him like me, please Asami!