So this is a series of one shots, if anyone has any requests I will gladly take them! This is going to involve all of the Junjo Romantica couples so feel free to suggest any of those as well.

This is rated M for future chapters (of course), this first one just for safety reasons is M. This also the Egoist couple since there are too few of those.

Jaded

"I love you," he whispered, his cold hands caressing me, holding me as I lifted and impaled myself onto him. Pleasure fueled us, his words urging me on, if I did this right, I could make him feel so good, then these words would mean something. "I love you…so much," he whispered against my lips.

I smiled and repeated my actions, moving with my hips upwards, this feeling of being full, of being loved, was intoxicating. His hands running through my hair, his cold touch against my burning skin, the deepest part of me being reached, this was a high all on its own. I moved on my own, up and down, our pants of pleasure thickening the air, his hands roaming against my chest, pinching my erect nipples, grasping my shoulders to push me down harder, our passion was thick and molting. His bracing hands were all the cooled my hot flesh, and as we reached our peak of completion he pulled me down my face, crashing his chapped lips against mine, and pulled away breathing against my swollen ones.

"I love you…" I came, shivering, gasping as I rode out my orgasm, I felt him go stiff and slightly cock his head back, "Takahiro,"

It ended there; any trace of pleasure was defeated at the name, any happiness that I had built during our most intimate encounters had been destroyed.

I wake up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding; aching with every throb as my memory crept up on me. I sit up carefully, looking to my side where Nowaki slept peacefully, his face calm, the faintest of movement from his eyes show that he's deep asleep, his thin lips slightly parted, his hair falling to his face. Charily, I run my hand through his hair, sweeping the dark tendrils of hair from his soft featured face that in dark, in the calmness of sleep makes him look like a child.

Carefully, I slip out of bed and like a child I tiptoe to the bathroom, shutting the door before turning the light on. I lean against the sink with my hands and look at the man in the mirror, his chestnut hair isn't grey at twenty eight, it's longish and overdue for a trim. His eyes are a light brown and still have a lot of fight left in them, the hours of grading papers and planning lessons have taken their toll making them look more tired than they are. His face hasn't any sign of blemishes of wrinkles though his friend continuously says he'll get them if he continues to furrow his brows. His nose is small and straight, his lips are still swollen from the previous night's activities.

This man is wiser than he was five years ago, he's happier than he was all that time ago when his decisions were irrational, stupid and self destructive. I wish that man in the mirror had known then what he knows now, I wish he hadn't have broken his own heart with his own body. I wish he knew that he could be happy with the man in his bed forever if he allows it, if he allows himself to completely trust the man sleeping in the other room, the man he calls his lover. I wish he could relax some, let go of that hurt and pain that he inflicted onto himself with a repressed love that he never confided in his best friend who was the one who hurt him so without knowing it. I wish this man could take back time, I wish he could smack the man he was with a book and tell him to look for the man who worked in the flower shop, the tall man with dark raven hair, with caring blue eyes that saw past all his demons and sins.

"Hiro-san," the soft, groggy voice of Nowaki makes me turn to the door where he stands. His eyes squinting to try to adjust to the bright light of the bathroom light, his hair disheveled, his pajama pants twisted around the waist. "are you ok?"

I look back at the man in the mirror, he has a class in the late morning he has to be prepared for, a meeting after that, dinner to cook after that, and a lover to make love to after that.

"Yeah," I say, pushing myself off the counter of the bathroom and coming to the doorway where Nowaki stood. I flick the light off and wrap my arms around Nowaki's neck, feeling his bare chest against my clothed is a secure sensation, one I hope always lasts. His hands rest themselves at my hips, pulling me closer, the feel of his breathe on me is warming, arousing in a way. I pull back and push my lips to his, it's a soft and hazy kiss that only lasts a minute or two, as I pull back he comes forward, his hands pulling me closer. He rests his head on mine, his eyes closed and through the dark I can make out the hint of a sleepy smile.

"I love you," I say, my hands are on his shoulders, feeling the softness, the sturdiness of them, they look so small on his broad shoulders. His eyes open and our eyes meet, brown clashing with blue, our lips a breath's distant away, hovering over what could be, of what that would lead to.

His lips cover mine simply, overlapping mine once, then twice before he pulls away. His head moves to the side of my face, our cheeks touching as he whispers into my ear like he's done a thousand times before and what I know he'll do a thousand times after, "I love you, too,"

Five years ago, I would have wished for a different man to say that, to tell me those words and make me feel like I was loved only by him. But that man found someone else, that man found love in a not so expected place, I found mine just around the corner, and while I had always thought I was the one chasing him, trying hard to find love it had turned out I was the one being chased; for once it was my love someone wanted, still wants, will always want.

And as he lays me down on the bed, as my shirt is lifted off of me and a loving assault is ensued onto my neck and chest, I know that that man I saw earlier is who I am now. Maybe who I was all long without knowing it.