Repaying the debt (A 'Finder' Fanfiction)

Chapter 2

Maybe the Ritz-Carlton's 'Modern Japanese Suite' was not the most expensive in all of Tokyo, but it was very likely the most beautiful. Exactly 30 minutes after the Chinese had left the bar, Asami stepped in front of the cherry wood door of room 4811 and pressed the doorbell. The chime could hardly be discerned from inside.

Twice he would ring, that he had told himself. If Fei Long didn't answer the second calling, then he would leave.

Now he listened intently, trying to hear if anything moved inside the Suite, but the silence of the hotel's corridor remained unbroken. It was so quiet he could, in fact, hear the fine, quaint ticking of his Rolex, when he raised his arm to check the time.

A minute had passed, and still nothing.

He clicked his teeth in irritation, when he put his finger to the tiny, round button of the doorbell again, without pressing it yet. As soon as he did, time was running out. He would not ring a third time. No!

However, if he used the bell now, the second countdown started.

With a sigh, that took him some effort to not make it sound annoyed, he finally pushed the button. Again, the faint chime could be heard only far away, and he waited, listening, counting the seconds in his mind, trying hard not to let his mood slip with the time that ran past him.

A click and his counting stopped.

The door was opened less than an inch at first, remained like that for a moment, and was then pulled open, slowly. Fei Long almost hid behind it, when Asami entered, stepping onto the dark stone floor of the entrance area that looked like it was supposed to give the impression of entering a traditional Japanese house. There was a sliding door, that stood open beneath an inclined ceiling complete with wooden roof beams. A giant hewn jade stone was the only decoration ... except for the Chinese, who leaned against the golden-tinted walls and still held tight to the doorknob.

Asami laid one hand against the door and slowly, pulling it from the other man's hand, pushed it shut. With another click, it closed.

Fei Long jerked away from the wall, without a second look at his guest, and hurriedly stepped out of the entrance area. Taking off his shoes, Asami followed into the living-areas of the suite, which were all fitted with Tatami.

There was a short corridor that connected the bathroom and a large walk-in-closet with the vast bedroom. Illuminated on a pedestal of black wood, a gigantic bed with creamy sheets and pillows remained yet untouched. Shoji, sliding doors, wood wainscot and ceiling created a feeling as if one was indeed in some traditional, maybe even historical building. But the Byobu, the golden folding screen, above the bed was shielded by a very modern, giant glass screen and the daybed that stood in front of the large window allowed to marvel at Tokyo Tower about one mile away and protruding from the artificial ocean of stars all around.

Fei Long had walked through here, into the next room: A sitting area with a giant TV, a small office area and an adjacent tearoom. Next to a golden Champagne cooler, he had stopped, turning back around to his guest.

"Do you want a drink?", he asked. His eyes only flickered across Asami now and then, but never stayed focused long.

The coffee table and the chaiselongue of the bronze leather couch were laden with gifts Fei Long had received for his birthday – most presumably from the men whom he had met to do business with today. But as this had been an official meeting – not one of the underground world in which he usually trod – it was not unlikely that other acquaintances had heard as well that he would be here today and had arranged for their presents to be delivered to the hotel. There were pretty paper bags of some expensive designer brands, some boxes still wrapped in shimmering wrappings, a large bouquet of white Anemones and Eustoma, and pinkish Limonium between twigs of Myrrh and Eucalyptus, and several caskets of pralines and extraordinarily expensive Champagne and Whisky. The only thing that caught Asami's eyes, however, was a wooden box with the logo of 'Patek Philippe' engraved in silver letters on the top.

"Please", Asami answered the question from before, and stepped up to the box, while Fei Long opened the Dom Perignon bottle from the cooler. "May I?", he added, when he had already picked up the gift.

The reply was nothing but a 'mh'. There were four champagne glasses – some odd custom of many hotels: You did not only provide one glass, even though the guest had booked the room for a single person, yet providing only two glasses seemed as if you were suspecting your guest to bring along someone to ... well ... fuck. Therefore: four glasses. That was either just a meeting of friends – or an orgy.

With gentle fingers, Asami opened the box and found a 1990s 3974 Patek Philippe watch inside, with a golden case and crown, and golden hands and markers on a black surface.

"That's quite a present", he murmured, unable to completely conceal his awe. This watch was worth several hundred thousand. A very generous gift indeed, and the tiny paper card, that had been fixed to the buckle by a thin golden thread gave away the noble donor ...

'Of course!', Asami snarled to himself as he read the Russian name. He closed the box with a thud and placed it back between the other presents, when Fei Long approached and handed him the glass of champagne.

"Sorry, I did not bring anything but myself", Asami turned to him with a sly smile on his lips.

"And I'm uncertain if I want even that ...", the Chinese retorted. He stared at the minuscule bubbles of the golden liquid.

"I can leave, if you want me to", the other offered, speaking quietly to again hide the fling of annoyance trying to grab a hold of him.

"No", Fei Long answered, and for once, his eyes darted across the brim of the glass and towards the other man. He had lowered his head a bit and gazed at Asami from beneath those long, black lashes – and there was now no insecurity or reluctance in his glance.

"Then: Happy Birthday, Fei Long!", Asami spoke aloud, raised his glass a bit more and then drank, emptying the whole fill at once. Right away, he put the empty vessel away. It hit the coffee table with a quiet 'cling'.

Quickly Asami advanced through the space between them, and Fei Long stepped backwards, two, three, four steps, until his retreat was stopped by the wall. The Chinese had only drunk a sip, but Asami took the glass from his fingers anyway, and placed it on the broad backrest of the couch without much attention of whether it would find its balance there.

After coming to his room, Fei Long had taken off his suit's jacket, but he still wore his tie and waistcoat. He had not even opened a single button of his shirt.

Leaning with one arm against the wall, towering over the other, cornering him, Asami took a gentle hold of the tie and slowly pulled it loose. Fei Long flinched only once to the touch. Apart from that, he kept staring upwards, defiance in his amethyst eyes – and maybe some malice.

As they gazed up at him, Asami found himself being strangely alert, as if his instincts expected an attack, that his body and consciousness were already too lulled to manage to anticipate. He was not really sure right now about who had actually cornered whom, no matter their physical positions.

Raising his hand again, he let his fingers move past Fei Long's cheek, then he slowly dragged his fingertips through the black hair, feeling its silky touch, inhaling the enchanting scent of the man so close to him.

When all the strands had fallen from his fingers, he moved them across the other's skin instead – pale and pure, like the finest porcelain.

He reached his lips finally, only with his thumb, and circled around the outer lines of his mouth, lazily, hardly touching, until allowing it to rest on Fei Long's lower lip for a moment. A bit more pressure then, and he could push the tip inside, and the teeth behind parted as well and a warm tongue came to greet him. Still, those amethyst eyes stared up at him – so close now, he could see every fiber of their texture and had no trouble noticing how dilated the pupils were.

Dragging his thumb out, he rubbed the moisture on it onto Fei Long's lips, though they seemed to shimmer already, so full, so red, so inviting.

He grabbed the Chinese by the chin and snatched his mouth with his own, locking his lips with the other man's.

There was a tiny moan the moment he pushed his tongue inside and found Fei Long's.