Akihito tried to help a friend.
"I'll leave once it lets up," said Asami without any trace of willingness in his voice.
That was lame. And old. And boring. So Akihito did not say anything. He stepped back to let Asami in, and closed the door.
"Let me just finish something," Akihito mumbled, walking past Asami who was taking his shoes off at the entryway. "If you want some tea or anything, help yourself with the kitchen."
Akihito went back to his table, perching on his chair, biting on his pen.
"What are you doing?" Akihito jumped when he heard Asami's voice so close to his ear.
"No... nothing," he stammered, swatting Asami's hand away from the pink paper on the table. "None of your business anyway."
Akihito was almost certain that Asami would insist on looking at the pink paper, which would lead to a fighting which would end up with him being thrown to the bed by the man and ravaged thoroughly, but instead, Asami pulled his hand. "Mind if I use your bed?" he asked.
Now that's an improvement, and given that they would end up in bed anyway, Akihito did not see the reason why Asami needed to ask permission from him. However, since Asami had tried to be polite, Akihito decided to return the favour and granted him his wish. "Help yourself," he murmured.
Then he found himself listening to Asami's movements as the man went to the other end of the room, where the bed was leaning against one wall, that part was separated from the dining/study room part by a bookshelf and a wardrobe. More sounds told him that Asami took his clothes off first, hanging them in the wardrobe, before finally putting his weight on the bed. He could even hear the sound of the springy mattress sank under Asami's weight, and before long he started to wonder whether Asami slept naked in his bed.
So much from trying to think while Asami was here. Akihito gave up. He put his pen back down, and went to join Asami in the bed.
Much to his surprise, Asami still had his underwear on. He lay on his side, facing the wall, his back towards Akihito.
"It's a love letter," said Akihito as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. It was pretty cold, with water still pouring down from the sky, but with Asami sharing his bed, it would get very warm later, so there was no point in keeping his t-shirt on. He kept the sweatpants because Asami still kept his briefs.
Asami rolled around, frowning at him. "Are you cheating on me?" he asked, squinting his eyes.
Akihito climbed carefully onto the bed, praying that the wooden frame did not give away this time. It had its share of abuse during Asami's best moods. Again, much to his surprise, Asami did not grab him and ravish him right away, but Akihito took it as a bless. The man only watched as he sprawled along the mattress, trying not to press his body to Asami, as the bed did not leave much space with the man taking most of it with his huge body.
"Haven't crossed my mind, yet," Akihito answered, setting himself to prop on his elbow, supporting his head with hand, thinking that Asami should not be smelling this good at three o'clock in the morning, as if he had just gotten out of the shower instead of driving around the city all day. "It's for Ta... a friend. He fell in love with this pretty girl, but he cannot write a love letter even if his life is depended on it."
"What happens with SMS?"
Akihito scowled. "It's hardly romantic. This girl, she's into all sorts of nice poems, English poems, literatures, so my friend wants to impress her with a nicely written love letter."
Asami snorted, then turned around again. "Tell him to read Kahlil Gibran or something, rather than asking for your help."
"You think I can't write a good love letter?"
"I think you better stick to your choice of career."
Akihito made a face to the back of Asami's head. Then he straightened his arm, and turned around to face the bookshelf and wardrobe. He listened to Asami's slow, steady breath, thinking that maybe Asami was right. He was as hopeless as Takato with words, so why the favour?
Maybe if he read Kahlil Gibran...
"The thing is, Akihito," Asami spoke again, his voice sleepy. Akihito shifted to lie on his back, facing the ceiling. "You can't write a love letter for another person. You can't write a love letter unless you're the one in love with the girl.'
Akihito laughed softly. "Speaking of your own experience?" he teased.
"Trying to stop you from making the biggest mistake in your life."
"I thought I already did."
"The second biggest mistake, then."
Akihito blew a heavy breath, then turned around again, to the back of Asami's head, the bed squeaking with his movement. He shifted closer to Asami because he felt he was going to fall from the bed, and he propped on his elbow again. The warmth of Asami's skin felt like a bliss.
The words slipped before he even thought about it. "Do you love me, Asami?"
There was several seconds lapse before Asami said, "What brought you the idea?" Asami did not even bother to turn around.
"I don't know." Akhito touched Asami's hair with his fingertips, feeling the silkiness. "You fuck me on a regular basis, you must have some kind of feeling for me."
A snort. "Yeah. Annoyed."
"Do you fuck everybody that annoys you?" Akihito pushed his luck for no apparent reason. Just wondering. Just curious. Just wanting to talk.
"Only when their ass is worth to be fucked."
"Does that mean, my ass worth a lot to you?"
"That means, you're an easy one."
Akihito chuckled. Then, again, without his brain seemed to send the message, he had put his hand on Asami's shoulder and pulled the man back to face him.
"You didn't come because you needed shelter from the rain, or to take a nap here, did you?"
But Akihito did not want to hear the whole sentence. He silenced Asami with a kiss.