31. Akira

CHAPTER 31

Akira

" O h," Kyle said quietly, coming to a stop as he reached the top of the apartment block's stairwell.

Akira tasted hot, rancid anger. Kyle's furniture and personal possessions had been scattered carelessly across the foul-smelling, filthy corridor, not a single item left upright or undamaged.

The orange blob his man liked to call a cat raised its head from where it lay in a pile of torn fabrics that had perhaps once been clothes. It offered a feeble wail at the other creature in Kyle's arms before slumping back down onto its paws as if to communicate how life was far too heavy to face on one's feet.

Akira sympathised.

"Havoc, baby?" Kyle murmured. His gorgeous blue eyes were steeped in concern. "Where's Mayhe-"

An outraged yowl split the air and Kyle dashed into his apartment with Akira close on his heels. In the centre of the nearly emptied room was an irate black cat with its fur on end and its tail jabbed high in the air, claws embedded firmly in a duvet. Akira remembered the feel of that Kyle-scented bedding against his bare skin; rougher than his own sheets at home, but better because it was like being enveloped in a hug from Sir himself.

The other end of the duvet was scrunched tightly in the fists of a scrawny man, who was facing off against the tiny cat as though it was a genuine adversary in their tug-of-war.

"Shoo, rat," the man hissed, trying to shake the animal free. Mayhem bared tiny, sharp teeth at him.

"Agnew, what's happening?" Kyle asked in a small voice. He sounded lost, and that made Akira even more furious. Kyle was supposed to be confident and happy and shining brighter than all of the stars in the sky, not in distress.

The man, Agnew – that was the name of Kyle's landlord, he recalled – let go of the duvet and straightened, letting out a cruel snicker as the cat tumbled backwards in a flash of paws and fur.

"You're trespassing," he told Kyle with relish. "Get out before I call the police."

"Trespassing?" repeated Kyle, shock rendering him slow to grasp what was happening. "But...but this is my home."

Akira, wanting to save him the embarrassment of having the punchline thrown in his face, could have easily smacked the smug little man before he could reply. He could have also ensured that this Agnew was suddenly faced with very compelling reasons to change his mind on what was clearly an eviction, only...

Only this was perfect. It would get Kyle out of the insecure, cramped apartment and into somewhere Akira was better able to keep him protected, all without needing to resort to his usual underhanded manipulations to make it happen.

But doing nothing to stop it happening was hard. So incredibly fucking difficult to merely watch as Kyle scuffed the toe of his boot into the worn carpet, his face falling further with each word that erupted from Agnew's mouth as he gleefully informed Kyle he no longer lived here.

Kyle bent to pick up Mayhem. He showed no sign of exertion at having two cats in his arms, although Akira got to appreciate the way the blonde's muscles strained against the fabric of the t-shirt he'd been unable to resist buying him.

"Is this about the rent increase?" Kyle blinked. "I sent over the hundred credits..."

A hundred credits for a rent increase? Akira would fucking murder the son-of-a-bitch for taking advantage of his man-

No. He would stand there and bite his tongue, because this was for Kyle's good.

No matter how shitty it felt.

"It's about ," Agnew informed him cheerfully, "me having fifty people who could move in here today and not give me anything near the trouble you have, Randall. Always whining about mould-"

"I didn't want the cats breathing it in," he said, frowning down at them.

"-agitating the other tenants-"

"I just asked if anyone else's sinks were blocked so I could help fix-"

"-and spreading your filth everywhere."

Kyle cocked his head, confused. "My what?"

"You know," said Agnew with irritation, gesturing at him incomprehensibly. "Strutting past my door in that way you do, trying to tempt me into sin. Coming and going at the wrong hours. Always bringing him around." The man shot a glare at Akira.

"He's only been here once!" Kyle protested. His landlord scoffed in derisive dissent.

Akira didn't say a word. Mostly because he feared his commitment to letting this play out without interference would snap the moment he opened his mouth, but also because the truth was not what Kyle believed it to be. For he had been to this building many, many times before: mostly when his self-control ran out and he needed to be close to Kyle even if the man would never know it, and more recently to prevent anymore of Mackenroth's hired help from getting to him.

And as emotionally stunted as Akira knew himself to be, even he realised that admitting your stalking tendencies was not the best way into a relationship.

He'd been unforgivably sloppy if Agnew had spotted him skulking around in the shadows, but his attention had rarely swayed from Kyle. And the blonde was so na?ve and adorably innocent that he'd never think to look for anyone following or watching him. Even now, knowing that the Mackenroths had placed a target on his back, Kyle was frustratingly incautious. He was lucky Akira was keeping an eye on him, and that he wasn't above getting his hands dirty if it meant Kyle's stayed clean.

No, not lucky. Luck implied he'd gotten something he didn't deserve.

But Kyle deserved Akira's protection, and so he had it. It was as simple as that.

"I won't tell you again, Randall," the landlord warned him, jabbing a finger at the door. "Get the fuck out of here and take your rabid little beasts with you, or I'll have the cops called. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to arrest you, especially when I inform them of what you do for a living."

Kyle's crestfallen expression turned heartbreakingly pleading. "Agnew, I need this apartment. Please."

To hear him reduced to begging the piece of shit really tested Akira's restraint. He shifted his weight between his feet and Agnew flinched as though he'd swung a fist at him.

"I asked around about you," he spat at Akira, bathing his humiliating reaction in amped-up aggression. "Thought you might be a client of his, but it's worse, isn't it? You're his..."

Despite himself, Akira was intrigued – and slightly apprehensive. What was being said on the street about who he was to Kyle? His lover? Submissive?

Boyfriend?

"...his boss," snapped Agnew. "And stars guide me, I'm not having a Master of one of the fucking Houses here. I refuse to let you turn this respectable building into...into another... brothel ." He hissed the word distastefully as though the mere sound of it might contaminate his mouth.

Kyle made an unhappy noise. "We promise we-"

"The man has made his decision," Akira said coldly. "Come, Kyle."

He gave the words every ounce of authority he'd bluffed his way into over the years, forming an order Kyle wouldn't dare disobey.

And sure enough, the man trailed silently behind him as he led the way back out to the mess of discarded furniture and tossed items.

"Take only what you need," Akira told him, his voice firm and commanding. For all of Kyle's natural dominance, Akira suspected he needed a certain amount of guidance while his life was imploding around him. There was enough for him to worry about without adding indecision to the mix.

The other man immediately stooped to collect Havoc. Mayhem clawed his way up Kyle's t-shirt and settled himself around his neck to avoid being squished by the orange lump of fur. Burdened by three cats despite them having perfectly functional legs of their own – mostly, considering the battered grey and white one appeared to be missing one of hers – he was in no state to be carrying anything else.

Akira considered calling a staff member or two from House Epsilon to help, but he didn't think Kyle would appreciate anyone else seeing him so vulnerable. So he grabbed the items Kyle's sad eyes lingered on, arming himself with cat food, cat beds, and cat toys until he was balancing a small mountain.

"Anything for you ?" he asked, softening his tone.

Kyle screwed up his face in thought.

"That," he said.

Akira followed his gaze and raised an unconvinced eyebrow when he spotted what the other man was staring at.

A multi-levelled cat toy with rope bridges and little platforms set at different heights for the creatures to climb and explore. Despite resting on its side in a puddle of some unidentifiable liquid – probably three-day-old coffee, knowing Kyle's innate disorderliness – the toy looked unused.

It was also the height of a grown adult and probably weighed the same amount.

"I'm only human, Kyle."

"Could have fooled me," the blonde muttered, a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

There it was, that eternal cheerfulness and good humour that made Kyle such a compelling person to be around.

Along with his compassion, his thoughtfulness, his soft hair and clever hands, and that pierced dick of his that could work magic on Akira's insides...

Doors cracked with gloomy suspicion and intrigue as they passed by: Kyle's old neighbours watching them leave the dilapidated apartment block. Not one of them offered him either sympathy or assistance.

Kyle didn't seem to notice.

"May I borrow your runepad?" he asked as they exited out onto the street with their arms full, sans the huge cat toy. They both knew there was no point in returning: by the time they did, Kyle's possessions would be gone, scavenged by the impoverished or greedy for whatever small value they held. Without his cat arriving to warn him, Kyle might have come home to find nothing left at all. "Mine doesn't do calls and I need to find a place to stay."

Akira stiffened. "You're booking a hotel?"

"A hotel?" Kyle snorted, making Chaos stir in his arms. He shifted her weight and continued to plod forward down the street. "How am I supposed to afford a hotel, you out-of-touch bastard?" He paused, and then playfully waggled his eyebrows at Akira. "You rich , out-of-touch bastard. You gonna pay for it?"

"No," Akira said shortly. Despite being poorer now than Kyle – he was guessing he didn't owe someone a million credits – a hotel was too public to guard, and too many people could be bribed or threatened into handing over the passcard to a room.

"I can't impose on Indira," Kyle mused, reminding Akira that the man had a life outside of him and House Epsilon. He didn't like the unpleasant, possessive feeling it invoked in him. "Her husband Bensen is allergic to cats. I suppose I could ask Mish-"

"No," Akira said again, cutting off such nonsense. "You're staying at the House."

There were the inevitable protests, of course, the I don't want to inconvenience anyone, and it's not your problem to solve, and I promise I'll be fine , but by the time Kyle had gotten those out of his system and Akira had given them the unimpressed silence they deserved, they'd found their way back to House Epsilon.

Akira surveyed it with a critical eye. He didn't like the way the paint was peeling from the windowsills, or the large chunk of stone missing from one of the steps, but he acknowledged that overall, the building was in good condition. Akira paid a local gang to keep their graffiti off its walls and their stones away from its windows, and he'd personally deterred more than one drunk who'd dared to take a piss in the alleys that surrounded it.

To keep its higher-paying clients returning to spend more credits, he needed the House to project a certain amount of class that was difficult to achieve, let alone maintain, this deep in Xerxes. Unfortunately, setting up on Level E had been less of a strategic decision and more about taking the dregs of the one level that didn't already contain a Coterie House. They had territories as well as sexual specialties, which Akira thought was uncommercially ridiculous, and that had perhaps been what encouraged him to build House Epsilon's client base from across Xerxes rather than confining himself to his allocated vertical and horizontal jurisdiction.

That decision hadn't won him many friends among the other Coterie members, but with nothing to formally prohibit him soliciting from a broader pool of clients than was traditionally and politely practised, he'd gotten away with a half-hearted slap on the wrist. Yet there were other Coterie expectations he agreed with even less, and Akira knew that it caused frustration to the other Masters when he'd refused to fall in line.

There was nothing they could do. He'd been accepted into their ranks and was exactingly careful to obey the terms of his Mastery contract: that meant he was untouchable, regardless of how many times he fucked them over by making his House more efficient and more liked than many of theirs.

The irony was, Akira was similarly powerless to stop the other Masters from adopting his business model and beating him at his own game. But when it involved paying for staff healthcare, treating workers as people instead of product, and employing stringent cleaning practices so clients didn't realise they were the sixth person to use a particular bed that night, he'd always find himself alone.

Some people were too short-sighted to realise that one had to invest in a business for it to succeed. Small costs now, even larger ones, meant a better reputation and greater income later. His staff were known for being cleaner, healthier, and happier than the average Xerxes sex worker, and that meant an improved client experience. Regardless of the magical protection offered by the workers' dog tags, no client wanted to worry about catching an infection off a piece of ass they'd rented for the night, nor have their whore sobbing uncontrollably the whole time.

His men could still produce tears and display misery on command, of course – with no one better at that than Ben – but there was a vast difference in quality between crying to satisfy the desires of a client, and because the worker was drowning in their own despair. Even amongst the depravity and debauchery of Xerxes, there was only a small percentage of the population whose dicks got hard from the latter. Akira – as Master Epsilon – gave his House's clients an experience , one where they could indulge in their kinks in a safe and respectful space and not have it seep back into their everyday lives with violence or sickness or crises of conscience.

"Sweetpea?" Kyle asked in a soft, concerned croon that made Akira's cock swell. His head shot sideways, lips parting wordlessly, only to realise Kyle was talking to one of his cats. "What's wrong?"

The cat gave a great yawn that flashed teeth and Kyle fussed over it, murmuring acknowledgement of how tired you must all be and how they'd been through such a terrible ordeal.

"Tired?" Akira snapped at the fluffball, unable to keep the bite from his tone. "Spare a thought for your poor daddy, who is carrying all three of you."

The cat just yawned a second time, dismissing him with a contemptuous half-glance.

Akira harboured no hatred for the creatures. In fact, he quite liked them, because they were Kyle's and they made him happy. But he was unimpressed with how smugly they'd all settled in for the ride: just another example of someone taking advantage of Kyle's easy-going nature.

"Awww, is someone jealous?" Kyle said in that same fussing tone as before, and this time he was talking to Akira. His eyes danced with good humour despite the way his forehead was drenched in sweat, and he nudged him with the small patch of his arm that wasn't draped over by cat . "If you'd like me to carry you instead, pet, all you have to do is ask."

Akira, stars damn him, almost did exactly that.

The thought of Kyle's strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him up and keeping him tucked safe and close...

He swallowed down that ridiculous urge. He might have been smaller than Kyle but not so much that he deserved to burden the other man with his weight, and it would hardly help them with the task at hand.

"Somehow," he managed to get out, thankful his tone remained cool, "I think I'll manage to survive these last six steps."

Kyle laughed, crouched, and set down the two cats that had been in his arms, although the black one stayed wrapped around his neck like a purring, contented scarf.

"See," Akira told them grumpily while Kyle busied himself with the door to House Epsilon. "You can walk."

"Stop being mean to my babies," Kyle said mildly without turning around. "Or you'll discover how mean I can be to you ."

The casual way he threatened him sent delicious shivers down Akira's spine.

"The door's locked," he pointed out, not trusting himself to respond to the comment. "The staff would have closed up the House when they left."

Kyle looked adorably bewildered at the thought, his nose crinkling. "Locked? I've never seen it locked. I didn't even know it was capable of being locked."

"That's because you're always the last one to arrive and I'm always here when you leave," Akira reminded him with exasperation, rewarded by an insouciant grin that was so unmistakably, delightfully Kyle . He nodded at the scanner set beside the door. "You can open it with your fingerprint."

"How did you get my fingerprint?"

Akira gave him a bland smile and didn't answer. He didn't really want to know.

Kyle snorted, shook his head, and began to try each of his fingers one by one on the scanner.

A passing pair of men, dressed for the factories in warm but tight-fitting clothing – no one wanted to be pulled into the deadly machinery by loose cloth – glanced their way in the growing dawn light. Their eyes fell on the pile of fluffy toys and cans of fake tuna in Akira's arms and they elbowed each other, snickering and pointing.

Making sure to hold their stare, Akira meowed. Loudly.

"Good kitty," Kyle said absently, still focused on the door.

The factory workers blinked, faltering.

Akira let out a rumbling purr and nudged his head into Kyle's shoulder, enjoying the way the blonde reached around and petted his hair for it.

And at some point Kyle must have realised they were being watched, for when the lock clicked, he paused on the doorstep to shoo the real cats inside the House and then looked back at Akira with a playful glint in his eye.

"You want some of daddy's cream, little kitty?"

"Meow!" agreed Akira.

"As long as you drink it all," Kyle warned, ensuring that his voice carried to the pair of men who had now stopped in the street and were openly gawking. "Daddy won't be happy if his kitty doesn't take every last drop."

Then he dragged Akira inside by his arm and slammed the door behind them, before bursting into laughter. Akira joined in, relishing the chance to smile after what had been a shitty few days for the both of them.

"Reckon we'll have a couple of new clients wanting to explore a recently discovered kink?" Kyle asked with open amusement, ascending the stairs and retrieving his real pets as he went.

"I sincerely hope so."

"My usual room?"

"Room thirteen," Akira corrected. It wasn't currently in use by any of the staff, and as much as he doubted Kyle would blink at being made to sleep in a bed that he got half a dozen men off on each night, the cats were another matter. It was better that they were kept away from the House's business, and located on the top floor with a number that some superstitious clients shied from, thirteen was the best choice.

It was also right next to Akira's office, but that had nothing to do with anything.

Anything at all.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he might believe it.

But as he left Kyle getting ready for bed and retreated next door to his office instead of returning home under the pretence of still having work to do, Akira Miyasaki knew that was a fucking lie.