Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Power and Control ❯ Chapter 15 ( Chapter 15 )

Power and Control- Chapter 15

 

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Sakaki stared at the broken picture in annoyance. The stupid thing had jumped off the wall when he slammed his fist right next to it. He growled loudly and kept on walking down the hall to the control room. He kicked Michael's chair out of his path, sending it rolling a few feet before it toppled over onto its side. One wheel spun forlornly until losing momentum and coming to a stop.

 

Still enraged beyond belief, he began to pace back and forth around the circle of desks like a tiger in a zoo exhibit. His mind was a jumble of confused emotions overlapping each other to the point where he couldn't discern one rational thought from the chaos. There was this overwhelming need to hurt, to break something with his bare hands. He'd already taken care of throwing everything off his own desk and kicked over the water cooler which, thankfully, had been almost empty. The floor of the kitchenette was soaked, but he couldn't be bothered with that at the moment. Oddly enough, the thought of having to explain all the damage to Kosaka gave him pause from destroying the office any more than he had. He could hear the little man's voice in his head, screeching his name at the top of his lungs and cringed.

 

As Sakaki began to slowly talk himself out of having his salary docked for damages, the primal need to rip apart began to abate. His father was the same way. No matter the problem, his first reaction had always been physical and violent. That was an incredibly sobering thought. He grabbed hold of the back of the closest chair, feeling the sudden need to sit down before his knees gave out.

 

No, I can't become like him…never like him.

 

But he had grabbed Michael in his anger, had shook him even. His throat tightened reflexively as the bile churned in his stomach.

 

How could I do that? I promised…I promised mom that I would never hurt my loved ones, and look at me. I should have told him no. He was already in so much pain. We shouldn't have- Fucking Zaizen and his bullshit threats! Michael's been through so much. I'm so fucking stupid. He must hate me now. That's why he couldn't stand to be touched by me. I hurt him. I hurt him just like…like Zaizen. Oh god, what have I done?

 

He truly was becoming his father's child. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes when they began to burn. A toxic vine of deep-seated and old self-loathing began to creep up to quietly choke out all his confidence and undermine his good intentions. He had not felt this helpless and low in a very long time. How could he be of any good to Michael like this? He was nothing, but a failure. His father was right; he never could follow through with anything, especially when it counted most.

 

“Sakaki?”

 

The sudden sound of Amon's voice and the older man's hand on his shoulder jerked him from his thoughts so abruptly that he nearly jumped right off of the chair.

 

Amon withdrew his hand slowly. “Are you alright?”

 

Sakaki stared blankly at the other man for a moment. Was he alright? If there was one thing the rookie hunter was sure of, it was the undisputable fact that he was not alright. He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it when the words to describe his current state failed to come forth. Violet eyes tracked down to the floor.

 

In the silence, Amon exhaled loudly. It sounded vaguely annoyed. “Come on, we're going.” He didn't give the blonde the chance to argue and simply grabbed the boy by the elbow and hauled him out of the chair. Sakaki immediately dug his feet in and tried to pull free.

 

“No, Amon. I can't just leave. I have to talk to—“

 

“I think the two of you said enough to each other, don't you?”

 

Sakaki was surprised by the amount of anger in Amon's voice. For a moment he forgot he was supposed to be resisting the other man's attempts to drag him out of the room and stumbled, falling down to one knee, when Amon gave his arm another hard yank.

 

“Shit!” The blonde yelped as pain shot up his leg. “Why the hell are you pissed off at me? I didn't do anything to you.”

 

The other man stared down at him with a stunned expression. It was as if Amon was shocked to hear that someone might have misconstrued the tone in his voice for anger. His fingers, however, didn't loosen their vice-like grip on Sakaki's elbow. After a brief moment of silence, the older man's expression melted back to its usual indifferent façade.

 

“Let's go,” he stated simply and pulled Sakaki back up to his feet. Before the boy knew what was happening, Amon used the other's forward momentum to get behind him and twist Sakaki's wrist into a joint lock and bend his arm behind his back-- policeman style. Before the hot-headed blonde could fully articulate his outrage, Amon pushed him out into the hallway and into the waiting elevator car.

 

“I'm not angry with you,” Amon said when the elevator doors slid closed. “Michael asked me to take you home, so I am.” And with that, he let go of his hold, giving the other boy a small shove to give themselves some distance in the cramped space.

 

“Fuck, Amon! You didn't have to be so rough.” Sakaki glared at the man across from him, massaging his injured wrist like a sulking child. “I just wanted to talk to him—to apologize.”

 

“And you would have picked up right where you left off.”

 

Sakaki hated, absolutely hated the seemingly effortless way Amon could state a point and make him feel like a complete loser all at the same time. Was there some sort of training course he missed on the subject? That still didn't change the fact that he had to speak with Michael and set things right. It would gnaw at his gut until he did so. He wasn't his father, a man whose modus operandi was to blame everyone else for his own shortcomings. He sighed loudly.

 

The elevator car came to a gentle halt and the doors opened to reveal the parking garage, but neither man moved. “I just can't leave it like that,” Sakaki stated after a pregnant pause.

 

“You have to,” Amon stated simply. “For now anyway,” he added, eyes softening a little and gestured for the other boy to exit ahead of him.

 

Sakaki complied, though he had to force his legs into motion. Throwing himself into the passenger seat of Amon's car was going against every fiber of his being. It was wrong. Michael was his lover and he shouldn't be letting him sleep alone in that room knowing that every minute of his time there had been recorded. He wanted nothing more than to just hold the other boy in his arms as tight as he possibly could. He wouldn't lie and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but he would reassure him with the solidness of his body that he was real, that what they have is real, and that despite what was happening, he wasn't going to leave Michael to face this on his own.

 

“What smells like burning?” he asked as Amon slammed his door shut. The older man flinched, but ignored the question as he turned the key in the ignition and put the car into reverse. That was when Sakaki noticed the two blackened marks in the ten and two o'clock positions on the steering wheel. Lavender eyes widened in realization.

 

Was that from Amon's craft? No wonder he looked wild-eyed tonight. Should I say something to him? Probably not if the way he's avoiding my question is any indication. He said he was having problems controlling it without the Orbo, but he has his pendant on. How did it…er, discharge? This can't be good. I haven't really put much thought into Amon's stability. He's been repressing Zaizen's abuse for a while now and with Michael and my involvement, he's not only been forced to face it, but share it as well. I guess that would fuck with anyone's mental fortitude. He might be on the verge of some kind of breakdown. I still can't get over how well he hid it all. I feel like I barely know him at all and I've been with the STN-J for almost two years. Ah, who am I kidding? The guy is like the desert- barren on the surface, but extremely dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. And out of the three of us, I'm the one who doesn't have a fucking clue.

 

The blonde cast a sidelong look at the other man. Amon kept his eyes concentrated on the road, but Sakaki could see the exhaustion-etched lines in his face. They were all in strung-out shape. His own head was pounding, making his eyeballs feel like they were bulging from their sockets.

 

Amon pulled in front of Sakaki's apartment building and put the car in park. He didn't turn off the ignition. The rookie hunter wasn't sure if that was a subtle way of telling him to get out or what, but he wasn't taking it if it was. He instead kept staring at the sun cresting over the horizon. “Tell me we have a plan, Amon. Tell me we have a plan because the way things have been going lately doesn't give me much hope.”

 

“We have a plan,” the other man said quietly.

 

“Think it'll work?”

 

Amon didn't even miss a beat. “It has to,” he replied with a weary kind of certainty.

 

Sakaki savored that on his tongue for a moment. Failure was absolutely not an option in this case. If they couldn't get into Zaizen's office and recover those despicable files, the alternative was completely unacceptable. Zaizen would be taking a dirt nap before Sakaki would ever let that old man lay a filthy hand on him or Michael ever again. Damn the consequences. Life in prison was better than a life of servitude any day of the week and if that's what it would take to ensure Michael's safety, he would do it without batting an eye. He just prayed it wouldn't have to come to that.

 

Leaning forward, the blonde scrubbed his hands over his face. It helped perk his senses up a bit. “Come on, let's go,” he said to Amon, giving a quick tug on the other man's jacket sleeve.

 

The dark haired man just blinked at him and Sakaki rolled his eyes. “You're coming up to my apartment and sleeping on my couch, Amon. There is no way I'm letting you drive home as exhausted as you are.”

 

“I'm fine,” the other man tried to insist, but the rookie hunter was having none of it.

 

“Seriously, if you feel even half as bad as I do right now, there is no way in hell that you can safely operate this motor vehicle.”

 

“I just did,” Amon shot back, looking very irritated.

 

“Yeah, but it's practically morning,” Sakaki pointed out. “I've been up nearly twenty-four hours straight and I can almost guarantee that you have been too. We're here now, just come up and sleep for a bit. I would…worry if a friend were driving around in your condition.”

 

His own words were a surprise. Was Amon a friend now? If put into this situation two weeks ago, Sakaki would have probably let the older man drive home without a second thought and maybe, just maybe, a tiny wish for something that would put Amon out of commission for a bit. He was Sakaki's superior at the STN-J and that made him the enemy. All upper management was. It was the nature of the beast. And besides, Amon had a penchant for busting his balls something fierce whenever he screwed up. But given everything that had happened and most likely will happen, there was no other word that could be used to describe their newfound, tentative relationship. They were friends now. Who would have thought? When he looked up and met rounded hazel eyes, Sakaki knew his sentiment was shared.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Amon did not want to go up to Sakaki's apartment. Fear seized his stomach and though he flat-out refused to name the emotion that was slowly intruding its way into his heart, he was smart enough to realize that removing himself from the situation was best. But the blonde was right, he was beyond exhausted. The last time he had something that even remotely resembled a good night's sleep was days ago. Long before the fragile house of cards he built around himself came tumbling down and he was once again pulled into the nightmare that was Takuma Zaizen. Practicality was always one of his strong points. Perhaps that was why it took only one more request from the other boy for Amon to shut the car off and follow Sakaki upstairs.

 

He quietly toed off his shoes in the small foyer and hung his long coat next to where the rookie hunter had placed his. It had only been a few hours since he was last here, but there was an odd sense of coming home that washed over him. He followed the other boy into the living room area and to what would be his bed for the next few hours still trying to ascertain why he felt so welcome and comfortable within the apartment's walls. He supposed that might have something more to do with its tenant than with the room itself. Sakaki had been very welcoming and understanding after he divulged his secrets.

 

“Would you like to take a shower?”

 

Amon nodded. He had been wearing the same clothes for nearly forty-eight hours. Given everything that happened and his impromptu meeting with Nagira, he hadn't had a chance to go back to his own apartment. A shower sounded simply delightful.

 

“Let me get you something to wear then,” the blonde said and turned to enter the back bedroom.

 

Amon followed. “I can't believe you have such a big apartment by yourself.” Walking through the doorway, he found the other boy rummaging through his dresser drawers. Amon's own apartment was a tiny, “one room mansion.” He didn't really need anything more. It wasn't like he ever intended to bring anyone back there.

 

“Yeah, my social worker pulled a few strings for me. She—where did I put that…oh, here it is—knows the guy who owns the building. Normally these apartments are for university students and are meant to be shared by four people. I was lucky enough to get one and not have to share. It's worked out really well. Here you go.”

 

“Thanks for going through all this trouble,” Amon said as he accepted the folded t-shirt and sweat pants from the other boy and turned to walk towards the bathroom.

 

“It's no trouble,” Sakaki said with a smile. “Towels are in the little cabinet under the sink.”

 

Once inside, Amon locked the door. It was an unconscious motion born from the many years of diligently keeping his body a secret from others. He slipped out of his clothes, folding each piece and placing them in a neat pile behind the door. He was nothing if not methodical. His co-workers often joked about his anal retentive need for detail and order. If they only knew that making sure everything was in its proper place, that every detail was explored, were the few times he felt some measure of control. Besides, it was easier to be the asshole sometimes. It kept people from getting too close and asking all the wrong questions.

 

Taking the few steps to the bathtub to turn on the faucet, he caught his reflection out of the corner of his eye in the mirror over the sink. The dark-haired man usually made it a point to not linger too much over his appearance. The reminder was just so hard to bear, but the stark lines of the dragon's tail that came over his shoulder were impossible to ignore. He turned to face himself full-on. What would the people who knew him think if they were ever to discover what he hid underneath all of those long-sleeved shirts? The nipple rings might be explained away as a fad or a kink, but the tattoo was much harder to clarify in the eyes of your average citizen. Why would a respected and highly decorated member of such an elite, worldwide organization have a Yakuza-style tattoo?

 

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself away from scrutinizing his appearance and reached into the shower to turn on the faucet. When the water was to temperature, he stepped under the spray. As the water washed over his body, he tried to clear his mind and forget about all of his stupid doubts and insecurities. He felt it was pointless to worry about being in an intimate relationship with anyone because it was never going to happen. There was no way he could ever be comfortable with himself enough to let someone into his world and feel confident enough to be in theirs. Touko played at flirting with him, telling him that they would be a perfect match. It was hard to know if she meant it or not. Amon was pretty sure she did it just to see him squirm. She would always laugh it off and change the subject. It only served to confuse him further. He never could understand women when it came to romance. It was better to just refuse any offer and not play into their subtle seductions.

 

Though, he thought as he lathered the shampoo into his hair, he couldn't say that men made anymore sense to him. Being in an intimate relationship with either sex terrified him. He had been approached by men and women outside of Zaizen, but surviving the abuse made him adverse to all contact to ever discover which way his preferences lied. When the sharp, musky aroma of the shampoo cut through his musings, it immediately shifted his thoughts to the blonde whose shower he was currently occupying.

 

Sakaki Haruto.

 

The source of his latest round of self-reflection. Amon halted scrubbing his scalp and brought his sudsy hands to his nose to inhale the scent again. He could recall smelling faint traces of the shampoo on the boy whenever his was in close proximity. He liked it. It was one of the many things he was beginning to like about the other boy and therein laid the problem. He was finding way too many things.

 

Shaking himself in an effort to stop his thoughts, he leaned back under the water and rinsed his hair. It was a hard admission, but he did like the way Sakaki smelled. He also liked his smile, and his ability to laugh, and how he made others feel comfortable around him. Amon felt a slight pang of jealousy at the memories of how gentle the other boy was with Michael and how easily he showed his affection. If he asked, would Sakaki show him the same tenderness? What would it be like to kiss those lips…to wrap his body around the other boy and sink into each other's embrace? What would it be like if they were to…?

 

A sudden rush of warmth shot down to Amon's groin. An erection slowly started to pulse to life. It was all so new and baffling. Never in his life had the reticent team leader reacted so strongly to another person in any way that was sexual. The whole situation with his mother happened at the time when those feeling were starting to awaken and Zaizen got to him before he could do anything about them. He was essentially stunted in his growth as a sexual being.

 

This is wrong. This is wrong. He's with Michael, you can't intrude on that. He doesn't look at you like that. He treats you as a…a friend, nothing more. It's not going to happen…he'll never love you.

 

Amon tried so hard to control it, to will his erection away, but other, darker voices in the back of his head were coming on stronger. They told him that he already knew what it was like to have the younger boy. He already knew what those full lips felt like wrapped around his aching cock. With just a tweak to the details, that horrible night in Zaizen's office could be reworked into a steamy memory. Sakaki would no longer be unwilling. Sure, he would still be clumsy and inexperienced, but Amon could guide him…tell him what to do.

 

Suck just the tip, run your tongue down along the root, gently cup the balls…

 

His rational mind made one last attempt to intrude on this fantasy to tell him what he was doing was wrong, but he was too far gone to stop now. Let him have just this one fantasy since there would never be a reality for him. Let him indulge in the memory of how hot Sakaki's mouth was as he took him deeper into his throat. Oh, the wetness as the boy worked him in and out, and in, and out…so warm, so wet.

 

Amon reached down and clenched his hand around the base of his shaft. He was so close, so very close. All it took was a few passes through the tunnel he had formed with his hand and he came, biting back a howl and spurting all over the tiled wall of the shower.

 

Panting and completely spent, he sank down to one knee in the tub. As the pleasure abated, the horror of what just occurred sank in. He cursed himself for his lack of control. Something was happening to him. The breakthrough of his craft earlier that evening was a harbinger of troubles to come.

 

What type of person masturbates to another person's humiliation? What have I become?

 

Despite all of the denial games he tried to fool himself with, it was time for him to face the undisputable fact that somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with Haruto Sakaki.

 

 

 

TBC…

 

 

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One room mansion- a Japanese apartment style in which there is only one small room (10 m²/3.0 tsubo/110 sq ft in many cases) and usually a compact bathroom. These styles of units are most often rented by single individuals due to their extremely small size which make it hard for more than one person to reside in them.

 

Yes, I live. Sorry for the—oh, how long has it been…a year--wait. Real life has taken a wonderful, yet time-consuming turn. I became a mom earlier in the year, so that combined with a full-time job has left me with little time leftover for writing. Updates will come, but I can't make any guarantees as to how fast. I sure hope this chapter was worth the wait. Feedback is never demanded, but always appreciated.