Categories > Anime/Manga > Viewfinder

Poetry Reading

by clueless

Takaba had to go to a poetry reading with a colleague. No surprise, Asami was there.

Category: Viewfinder - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Erotica - Characters: Asami, Takaba - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2006-02-18 - Updated: 2006-02-19 - 1999 words - Complete

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Title: Poetry Reading
Theme: 11a - Poetry vf_scribbles
Characters: Asami x Takaba
Rating / warnings: some lemon, completely senseless, no beta, the usual.
Disclaimer: yatta, yatta, yatta - that's Yamane Ayano to you ^ ^



It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows, let it suffice,
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

(Who Ever Loved, That Loved Not at First Sight? - by Christopher Marlowe )


Takaba glanced at his watch. Goodness, he wanted to scream. It was only two minutes since he last checked the time. How come time seemed to refuse to move in this event? He had no idea how he could go through this evening, he had already regretted his decision half an hour ago. But it was work. He was paid to be here, with Aiko, a news correspondent, who would write about the outcome of this event. Takaba only needed to take some pictures to decorate the article in the newspaper. It was an easy job, and the pay was good. Only it was...

Takaba clapped his hands, joining the applause, when whoever read the poem on the small stage finished and bowed to the audience. He smiled as he turned to Aiko, who seemed to enjoy the whole thing very much.

"That was very good," Aiko whispered in his ear.

Takaba nodded. Frankly, he did not understand a word. The reading was in English, as this event was held by the Embassy of Great Britain in relation with the Queen's birthday. Or something like that. And even if Takaba was quiet literate in English, the poems were written by famous English poets, mostly lived around the nineteen century, thus the words used were pretty unfamiliar for his ears.

"Do I need to stay to the end?" Takaba whispered back. He had taken pictures of the opening ceremony, the Ambassador's speech, the little cocktail party before the reading, as well as the first three persons reading poems. Those would be enough.

Aiko made a face at him. Takaba curled his nose.

"It's not polite, to leave in the middle of the program," Aiko whispered again. "Besides, I need you for the wrap up."

"Okay, no problem," Takaba shrugged.

"But if you must," Aiko opened her handbag, and pulled something out, "you just have to have a good reason."

Aiko pressed something on his palm. Takaba frowned to see a pack of cigarette and a lighter.

"Can't I just say I need to go to the toilet?" he asked, flustered.

"If you say you want to go to the toilet, you have to go to the toilet, but I'm sure that's not where you want to go," snapped Aiko. "But if you say you need to smoke... there is a little garden in the back of this building. Unless you prefer the parking lot."

Takaba almost shook his head. Somehow he believed that Aiko made that up so he would not escape. He pocketed the cigarette and the lighter.

"I'll be back for the wrap up."

Aiko only waved at him before turning to the stage again.

Takaba slipped away from the seat just as the next poet reader got on stage. At the reception desk, he showed the cigarette pack, and mumbled an apology that he needed to smoke very badly. The blonde girl in pretty little black dress only smiled at him and nodded, and Takaba slipped further to the garden at the back of the building.

He found it a bit surprising that he was the only in the garden. Did it mean that he was the only who got really bored during the reading? He shrugged and sat on a wooden bench. He took out the cigarette pack again from his pocket, and pulled one out. He did not intend to smoke, he never smoked before, however, as he had started to lie, he decided to make it look more convincing.

He was slipping one stick between his lips when he heard footsteps on granite floor. As the sound became louder and louder, Takaba realized that they were approaching the garden. He grinned in amusement, someone else had gotten bored as well.

"We can talk here... aaaahh, there is someone else here. I'm sorry, young man, but if you could please let us use this place in private?"

Takaba was too shocked to register the words into his brain, even though those were Japanese. Not because the words were spoken by the Ambassador, but because Asami was standing behind him.

"He's harmless, I know him," said Asami before the Ambassador repeated his request. His eyes were locked on Takaba's face, his stare cold and sharp, laced by a silent, dangerous treat should Takaba even think of doing something silly.

"Ah, if you say so, Mr. Asami," the Ambassador nodded.

Takaba pouted, however, he got up from the bench anyway, and walked to the corner of the garden. He knew exactly why Asami preferred to let him stay here and listen to whatever conversation they would have. That way Asami could watch him, and he could not try to take their pictures. Takaba gritted his teeth, balling his fists, fingers suddenly itched to lift his camera. He turned around to face the wall fence as Asami and the Ambassador took seat on the park bench.

Never mind. If he could not take their pictures together, he could still...

Asami and the Ambassador started to talk. In French.

Takaba almost groaned in frustration.

It was even worse than attending the poetry reading. At least, inside the auditorium, he had the choice to leave for the rest room as he wished. Here, he was completely trapped. He could not even try to leave. Asami's bodyguards would get him outside. If the Ambassador's people did not do it first.

And he did not gain anything here. Could not steal a picture, could not understand the conversation.

The time moved even slower in this place. After thirty seconds, Takaba was so ready to bang his head against the wall fence.

Fortunately, for men like Asami, time was money, and should not be wasted unnecessarily. Besides, by speaking in French, the conversation seemed to go quicker than expected. Takaba was still counting sheep in his head when the two men got up, shook hands, and the Ambassador left the garden. Takaba refrained from breathing in relief.

"Trying to start smoking, Takaba?" Asami said, his voice neutral.

"Like hell if I do that," Takaba snapped, letting his frustration out. Although he had gotten enough seeing the wall, he did not feel like turning around to face Asami, yet.

"Ah, then shall I assume that you got bored listening to the poems?"

"They don't interest me the slightest," answered Takaba. "I didn't understand what they read."

"Ah. Maybe, they should read it like this...," Takaba heard Asami's footsteps on the stone footpath. He did not have to guess that Asami was approaching him. He squirmed when Asami's breath caressed the sensitive spot behind his ears, "It lies ... not in... our power to love... or hate... for will in us... is... overruled by... fate." Asami recited the words slowly, one by one, one breath at a time, his voice deep, deep like calm ocean.

Takaba shivered, his heartbeat suddenly picked up the pace. "I didn't know you're capable of memorizing a poem," he mocked, feeling nervous already. This sounded like bad news for him,

"I'm capable of lots of things, Takaba," said Asami, his lips grazing along Takaba's earlobe very slowly.

"Like making an illegal deal with Mr. Ambassador," snapped Takaba.

"Like helping you while away the time before you have to wrap up the event," Asami bit Takaba's neck gently. Takaba bit his lower lip to keep him from mewling suddenly. Asami's presence, the way his chest pressed on his back, the way his lips touching him lightly, the scent radiating from his skin, gave Takaba the tingles all over his body.

"Not interested," Takaba said, more to convince himself than telling Asami as he felt his body begin to melt under Asami's ministration.

"Then, shall we go somewhere more private?" Asami kissed the nape of Takaba's neck. "Consider it a gift for being a good boy, and not messing up with my business for once. But of course, if you think you're not interested..."

Takaba spun around and pressed his lips hard on Asami's, his arms snaking around Asami's neck tightly. What was Asami thinking, teasing him like that, and then let him decide?

The private place was Asami's limousine, but that was good enough for Takaba. It was not as if they had never done it in the car anyway. Besides, the interior was spacious for them to roll around, and the seat was comfortable to get fucked against. Not to mention that the windows were tinted solid black to keep their privacy, while Asami's bodyguards and driver were camping in the guardhouse.

It was a miracle that Asami remembered to prepare Takaba properly, and that he did keep a tube of lube in the car, inside a small compartment attached to the door. He greased his hands with lube as Takaba worked on losing his sneakers and jeans and his briefs. Asami pulled him to sit on his lap, back to chest, and before Takaba had even settled properly, Asami already reached for his Takaba's sex.

Then everything moved in fast-forward, and a blur. All Takaba could register was the gripping pleasure inside him as Asami fucked him hard and toyed him mercilessly. He bucked and twisted, and the car bounced with him. He deliberately let moans and whimpers escaping his mouth, as the car was sound-proof.

It was almost a shock when it was over, and while Takaba was calming down, his cell phone went off. Asami reached it for him, held it up in front of his eyes to see Aiko's name blinking on the screen. Cursing, Takaba grabbed for his jeans, Asami voluntarily helped cleaning his sex with some moist tissues.

Fully clothed, Takaba jogged back to the auditorium, not minding to say anything to Asami. He flashed an apologetic smile to the girl at the reception and met a scowling Aiko inside. The audiences were applauding the last reader, and Takaba clapped his hands with them, and reached for his camera.

"That was wonderful," Aiko sighed in happiness as they walked out of the auditorium. "Can you drop the pictures first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Sure," Takaba nodded.

Aiko looked at him and smiled. "Sorry for dragging you to this. Let's go out for a drink, and you don't have to rush with the pictures. Really."

Takaba shrugged. "It's okay."

Aiko stopped, frowning as she looked at one direction. "Isn't that Asami Ryuuichi?"

Takaba followed Aiko's eyes and found Asami standing at the terrace. He was leaning on a column, arms crossed over his chest, a cigarette between his lips.

Takaba looked away.

"I wonder if he has any business with the Ambassador, or anybody here," said Aiko. "Maybe we should stay and find out."

"It's dangerous, believe me," warned Takaba. "He's got bodyguards."

"But if we can catch him in the middle of an illegal business, it would be quite a headline."

Takaba took a deep breath. He turned to look at Asami again, except that Asami was not standing by the column anymore. He was strolling to his car. And he glanced at Takaba, clearly sending a signal for Takaba to follow him.

How Takaba hated his charisma. He sighed once again.

"Let's do this way. You go home, and I'll find out,"offered Takaba. "Okay?"

Aiko smiled, and nodded.

*

~end
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