Work Text:
To think that he would be able to pull it through was now an obvious miscalculation.
In college, Keiji opted to fill his free time by sketching his ideas in his favourite notebook. Since he was in a good mental place, his ideas competed with each other, and since he was a bit too attached to all of his characters, Keiji couldn't pick just one to focus on. Instead, he bought more notebooks, dedicating one to each manga idea. The responsibilities that came along with adulthood, however, ate up his precious free time and almost forced him to give up his hobby. Just when he was about to, the opportunity of his life appeared out of thin air and he just had to grasp it.
Working on two equally complex manga simultaneously turned out to push Keiji over the edge. At the same time, though, it pushed a lot of success towards him. Now full time published mangaka, famous worldwide, working remote, Akaashi Keiji was living his best life.
Or not.
His big penthouse was a complete disaster; he didn't remember the last time he ate anything other than take out; he wasn't sure he knew how to turn on the stove anymore, or the vacuum cleaner; he hadn't washed his curtains in too long of a while. It was not healthy and he among everyone knew that all too well.
When you reached the address, you felt underdressed. The outfit you picked didn't match the area, the building, or the fancy front door on which you just knocked.
In a matter of minutes, you heard the sound of slippers sliding on the wooden floor in an alerted manner. You fixed your clothes, straightened your voice and braced yourself for meeting the mangaka that wrote your all time favourite manga. When the door opened, you thought you were at the wrong address. Keiji looked at you through a pair of square reading glasses.
"Yes?"
His voice sounded too rough for his age. Looking at him, you blamed it on the possibility that he had just woken up.
"I'm sorry, I'm just looking for Mr. Akaashi Keiji, mangaka."
Hesitant as usual — still shaken by some of the letters he received — Keiji didn't react in any particular way.
"What for?"
The man's response took you aback, yet you answered because you didn't want to be late for the meeting you had previously set with Mr. Akaashi via email.
"He posted an announcement that he's looking for someone to clean his house."
It was true that he did so, but the social media he chose to use for that didn't seem to take his request seriously. Keiji had stopped the notifications for that post no more than a day after because the things he saw people commenting were beyond disturbing for him. He remembered, though, chatting to someone via email about it but he didn't think it was any more serious than those weird comments. He had chosen to give attention to the email solely for the fact that one person emailed him instead of commenting or dming. Nonetheless, he didn't expect such a young girl to come to his door about it.
The silence was getting stupid, so you continued.
"I talked to him via email and we set up a meeting. Do you know if he lives in this building? I must've mistaken the apartment or something," you excused yourself.
"You didn't. I'm him."
Another round of silence, only this time your heart pounded in your ears.
"Mr. Akaashi, I'm sorry, I didn't think… I—..."
"Don't sweat it. I know I'm not what people expect. If you are still interested, please, come in. I need help indeed."
Your schedule was simple: you were to come every two days to tidy up the kitchen and the bathroom, and once a week to vacuum clean the apartment, wash the floors, do the laundry and change the bed sheets. The paycheck Keiji offered you felt a bit too generous, so you remained true to your principles and asked him to reconsider. Keiji appreciated it and decided — internally — that if you did a good job, he would eventually raise it back to the initial amount.
The first few days everything was ok. Keiji showed you around the house, admitted that he had no secret places or forbidden areas, yet he asked you not to clean his desk and chair, promising altogether that he could do that himself.
One thing you noticed and made you see that man in another light. Despite the mess in his house, his bathroom was spotless. Taking a better look at him while doing your job here and there, you also noticed how groomed Keiji was. He smelled nice, his hair and face were always clean, the clothes he was wearing as well — which explained the amount of clothes in the laundry basket. He didn't seem lost in a writer's block or fallen into depression or anything of sorts; he simply was so busy that he didn't have time to clean the place. Cleaning himself, though, that was a different story.
You had told your friends that you worked in housekeeping for an older person, but you never mentioned how much older that person was(n't) or who that person was; you didn't need your friends to judge you or fangirl too much. After about two months, you had saved enough to pay the first rent on the college campus, so your friends started questioning you on why you didn't quit your job. And why wouldn't you? It wasn't like you had fallen deeply madly in love with your employer. Or was it?
By now, you have learned all of Keiji's habits, his preferences in almost everything, even his pet peeves. On one of his deadlines, the poor man forgot to order food and asked you to do it, mentioning "surprise me". He was indeed very surprised when you cooked for him instead of buying food. Moreover, he appreciated the gesture and as he ate, he took a sudden break to ask you whether you didn't want to be his cook as well, of course, paid.
You've been smiling whenever you brought the meals to his home office, and you fought against all instincts not to blush when he complimented them.
You’vr been stalling in his bedroom for a moment longer when you folded his bed sheets because they smelled so good and you wished you woke up there with him early in the morning, to admire him through still slumber-hazed eyes as he’d bring his laptop to bed and fix some pages.
You tidied up the bathroom — despite not needing to — just so you could subtly sniff his products and create a picture in your head of how Keiji would smell if you hugged him.
This went on and on and on, and you found it more difficult to keep it professional by each passing day. Accidentally walking in on him when he changed his shirt in his bedroom, just because you didn't notice when he left the bathroom, made you wish you could dig yourself a hole in the floor and disappear. Hearing him cuss and get angry made you wish you lifted up his spirits, in any way he'd ask you to. When good things happened and Keiji came to share with you his joy, it added up to your burning desire to be his girlfriend, not his maid.
"So, flirt with him," your best friend suggested one day, after getting tired of you fantasising about Mr. Akaashi, mangaka.
"I could never. He's my employer, and not only would it be most inappropriate, but I'm sure he'll be very disappointed in me."
"I doubt it. And even if, since when do you need a recommendation in housekeeping? You intend to turn it into your career?"
"I don't but…"
"If it turns out bad, you simply resign, unless he fires you, of course. You played maid enough, if you ask me."
"I don't know… It feels wrong though."
"Look at it this way, then: what if he sees you the same way but finds it equally inappropriate. Seeing you come to him might change the data of the problem. And then you could really play maid," your friend suggested, wearing a particular smile.
"Knock it off, Mr. Akaashi is not like that."
"Oh, because you know so much about him."
"As a matter of fact, I do!" You exclaimed.
"Fine. Be it as you say, but if you get the chance to at least drop some subtlety, I recommend doing it. You have nothing to lose."
It was nothing special about that day, yet you counted on the hot weather to justify your choice for the short dress. Although the dress was quite common and didn't expose any part of your body too much, you felt whorish once you put the apron on top of it. It was a plain black apron, not those sexy-looking maid outfits, you had made sure of that when you bought your "uniform", yet the images planted in your head by your friend were keeping you on high alert not to make any inappropriate gesture.
You were in the kitchen when it happened. Busy cleaning up the remnants of the curry chicken you made for lunch, you didn't hear Keiji coming out of his study. He had just received the most amazing news in a long while and felt the need to share them with someone. Before he could calm down his excitement in order to hold a proper phone call with his family and friends, Keiji needed to share the info with the closest person: you. However, when he arrived in the kitchen and saw you bent over the stove, he forgot what he came there for.
He looked at you for a few moments, and all the images he unintentionally created in his head since you started working there turned up his body heat. It was most inappropriate to think of you that way. You were his employee. You didn't seem much younger than him but anyway, it wasn't alright. Alas, the interest he had taken in you conquered Keiji's mind.
On the days when you did not come, he suffered. He needed to welcome you in the house and rejoice in your wide smile. He appreciated that you came to his place straight after classes, not showing any time of tiredness. He loved to hear you walk around the house, to listen to your wordless hums when you cleaned the place, to give quick glances when you were in the same room but turned away from his face. When you were there with him, he felt twice as alive. His inspiration wouldn't cease; he never tired; he was joyful and wished you stayed there forever.
"Mr. Akaashi, is everything alright?" You asked, noticing Keiji zoning out in the door frame.
Your voice pulled him back to Earth. That sweet voice his mind had already recorded to play whenever he felt alone. And then he remembered the reason why he left his office.
" Under the dead tree hit 1 million sales."
"Congratulations!" You shouted. "I'm so happy for you, Mr. Akaashi! That's my second favourite manga of yours. I've been amongst the first to buy it actually," you admitted sheepishly.
Not only was he struck by your genuine beauty, but hearing you were a real life fan touched Keiji even more.
"Why didn't you tell me? I would've let you sneak some peeks."
You were quick to notice how his chuckle was meant to hide the tremble in his voice. A few small and slow steps brought you closer to the man as you worried there was something more hidden.
"Is everything ok, Mr. Akaashi?"
Shorter than him, looking up with nothing but kindness in your eyes, you unknowingly got under his skin more than Keiji was ready to.
"Can I hug you?" He asked. "I need to express this happiness somehow or else I will implode."
"It sold 1 million copies," you reminded, fuelling Keiji's joy.
"1 million copies…" he copied you.
"One.million.copies," you pressed the words.
"One million copies!" Keiji exclaimed.
You had never touched, not even hands, not even by accident. You merely made occasional eye contact and that was quickly avoided because the depth to which your eyes sunk in Keiji's and vice-versa turned your entire body into a bundle of tingles.
Nevertheless, you craved the contact, so you extended your arms towards him. And he responded. The hug was meant to be a joyful one so you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went for your waist. In his ecstasy, Keiji squeezed you hard and lifted you from the floor.
"One million copies, can you believe it?!" He exclaimed, laughing.
"I can! I've always believed in you!" You speak with your face on his shoulder.
The hugging ended, but none of you withdrew your arms. Bodies an inch apart and hands lingering still, you stared eye to eye and the air suddenly became harder to breathe in. A broken record spun in your head: "kiss me. kiss me. kiss me." Keiji's dilemma — should a boss be so attracted to an employee? — froze him in place. However, despite fearing the possible consequences, both you and Keiji closed in until it was impossible to resist any longer.
Your mouths crashed together, the desperate bodies collided once more, this time with a different intent, and next thing you knew, Keiji's tongue was down your throat.
You clawed at his shirt, moaned as he stole your air, so hungry for your lips; you let him lift your thigh up on his, your heart panicking in the front of his firm hold.
Moments later, carefully put on top of the kitchen counter, you abandoned your inhibitions and spread your legs apart as much as the man's body required in order to come close to you. Your dress travelled up to your waist and with it Keiji's hands, fondling your body like fresh dough.
"Are you gonna fuck me here?"
"If you want me to, yes."
"Then I should slide down and bend over"
"Absolutely not, I want us to look at each other."
"Then make of me what you may…"
The literate nature of your permission impressed Keiji and spurred him to let loose. With a firm hold of one arm, he lifted you from the counter and slipped your underwear down. It fell on his foot and his dick twitched when he felt the slick on them now cold for coming in contact with the air. If your thighs had grown accustomed to the cold of the marble, your folds hadn't. You mewled and squirmed when he put you back, gripped his shoulders better as a means to ask him to change the setting. Keiji's lips were too busy caressing yours, yet, understanding your plea, he scooped you up and headed for the bedroom.
You sighed, with a smile coating your lips, when your back came in contact with the fresh sheets you had laid down that morning. You watched Keiji strip out of his clothes at an average speed and chuckled at his obvious intention not to seem touch starved.
Keiji looked good; better than you expected actually. Truth be told, you didn't know what he was doing when you were not at his house; he might have as well gone to the gym everyday, however, you never saw such equipment. Nonetheless, you admired his body, of course, unable to pry your eyes from his hard dick once he removed the last clothing piece.
He smiled when he noticed the lip you caught between your teeth — made him feel proud. He crawled on the bed, bent, pushed and spread apart your knees so he could come as close as possible to your nether region. Your dress, crumpled just underneath your tits, wrinkled and soon to be sweaty, was the perfect proof having kept it on during sex. The idea was making you feel naughty so you thought why not act naughty as well. You bit on a fingernail, trailed your hands down your own body and parted your lady lips with two fingers. Impressed and more impatient than he's ever been, Keiji rubbed his cock there a little, to relieve some of the tension, then reached for the condom he previously prepared.
A kiss was the first thing you received as he leaned over you entirely. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him down on you. It gave Keiji even more confidence to see you were as eager as him for what was about to go down, so he pushed his tip against your folds. You rolled your hips, surprising the man with being able to take more of him that easily. After all, he could get you wet only by looking at you, let alone when his hands, mouth and dick were on you.
He started off slowly, getting you accustomed to the feeling, still unsure whether you had done this before or not. Your moans and the way you threw your head back when he bottomed out, though, were proof enough of you not being a little girl. Your fingertips latched on Keiji's nape and shoulders, an attempt to hold yourself steady as he pushed and pushed inside of you, making your body jiggle.
A myriad of praises from your favourite writer invaded your mind. Every inch of your body that he worshipped with words and touches caught fire, and the continuous rutting only fueled the flame more. At first, you found Keiji’s request to be very romantic – to watch each other while making love, however, with all the pleasure he succeeded in provoking you, you were dying to be rolled over and fucked senseless.
“Keiji, please, harder…”
Somehow, in spite of the gentle look in the man’s eyes, you found the guts to state your desire. Turns out it was a good idea because a new light appeared in those pretty blue eyes. In a swift movement, he prompted his knees better in the mattress and lifted your legs up in the air. Your ankles met his shoulder when he wrapped his arms tight around your knees and began thrusting at a new angle, with a newly found power.
Your first reaction was to gasp; you shot him with wide open eyes and dropped jaw, only to see him smile and offer you a “what is it, little one? too hard?” You shook your head in negation and smiled, throwing your arms above your head to hold onto the bed’s edge as your crush rearranged your guts, as per your demand.
With your head hanging over the edge, you looked at the flimsy curtains, wondering whether it was the breeze moving them or your heavy breaths. Keiji’s hair strands tickled your belly skin when he moved his head and you twitched. One big hand cupped the back of your head and lifted it back on the bed, whilst the other one pulled your body lower, messing up the sheets a bit more. You found yourself cuddled at Keiji’s chest and the warmth immediately relaxed you.
“I’m not sure what would be less awkward to say now,” Keiji finally said.
You decided quickly not to say anything, especially because you were not sure what he was referring to: the two of you sleeping together? you getting fired? or was it worse? You drew invisible circles on his chest, keeping your eyes away from him to spare him of more shame or guilt.
“I liked this and I like you, but I don’t want you to feel aggressed at “work”, even though it seemed entirely consensual. At the same time, I don’t want to fire you, I assume you took the job because you needed money and… I could help you with the money regardless but I don’t want it to seem like I’m paying you to sleep with me. Honestly, I…”
It was beyond surprising to hear Keiji talk like that. You jumped to your knees next to him and cupped his cheeks.
“I like you a lot! I’ve been crushing over you since your first public interview. When I saw the job you listed, my first thought was that I could be closer to you, get to know you. I couldn’t believe it when you actually gave me the job. And now… well,” your palms fell to his pecs and your eyes along with them, “now, I’m in love with you.”
You smiled when he lifted your tiny fists to kiss them. He fixed the dress straps on your shoulders and wrapped the sheet around his waist to diffuse any possible bashfulness between you two before leaving the bed.
“Would you like to be my girlfriend instead? You are welcome to come whenever and you don’t have to clean or cook or anything. We can do it together.”
“Can I watch you draw from time to time?”
“Yes. But it’ll cost you five kisses per hour.”
“Fine by me,” you giggled and went in for a kiss. “Do you want to do it again?” You asked when you felt Keiji’s tongue slip in your mouth.
“Pick another room.”