Hey guys! So I've always wanted to write an Egoist fanfic, so here it is. Originally, the story was going to be a development of the original plot, but this just popped into my head one day. I apologize if it starts a bit slow, but I will try my best to make it interesting so please have a little faith (see what I did there?) and give it a shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica.

Hiroki had been wandering the streets for about and hour when he finally found one. A customer. This particular one was a tall man with black hair, obviously drunk out of his mind. Hiroki was quite well known in this area, since he had "served" a lot of its residents. One look from the tall man told him that he was very aware of his reputation. The black-haired man stumbled towards the brunet.

"How much?" he slurred, fighting the effects of the alcohol.

Hiroki informed him of his prices, lowering them considerably since he was positive that he wouldn't run into anyone willing to pay more.

The black-haired man examined his body. "Well, I suppose you'll do."

Hiroki gritted his teeth in irritation, aware that his physique wasn't exactly glorious. However, he put a lot of effort into his work, and although it wasn't something to be proud about, he always felt a need to show off his talents. Together, the two men caught a taxi to the customer's apartment, during which the taller man revealed his name to be Miyagi Yoh. Hiroki introduced himself as Iwasaki Tadao, which was the name he used for his work.

Once the two entered Miyagi's apartment and got down to business, Hiroki tried his best to please the man. He hadn't gotten many offers that day, and he was hoping to maybe earn a couple extra bucks. He exaggerated his moaning, and tried to make it look like he was enjoying himself to the fullest. He even gave him a lap dance (which was very rare... he wasn't a freaking stripper, for god's sake.) Hiroki was relieved that Miyagi didn't have any strange kinks like some of the others he had come across. But he was rough. And had a lot more stamina then most men. But the brunet could keep up. He wasn't new to this, and he had trained himself to go for a long time. After they both released, they lay on the bed, waiting for their breathing to slow. Still panting a bit, Miyagi picked his pants off the floor and dug out a pack of cigarettes.

"Want one?"

Hiroki shook his head and grimaced. "I don't smoke."

Miyagi chuckled. "You're looking at me like smoking is the most repulsive thing in the world, and yet this is what you do to make a living."

"Well, it's worked out so far." Hiroki shrugged. "I should get going."

"Already? Why don't you spend the night?" Miyagi smirked a bit. Hiroki scowled a little, but agreed because it was too depressing to go back to his cheap, ugly apartment.

"Fine," he agreed. He got up to go the bathroom, not bothering to cover himself. Miyagi watched him from behind. Damn, I need to finish my work. Since when did I find the time to play around with poor bastards like him? He got up to grab a pile of papers on the table, and shuffled through them.

Hiroki soon returned and plopped down on to the couch. "If you're a literature professor, then why are you looking for sluts off the street? Surely you can find yourself a girlfriend. Or boyfriend, if you swing that way."

Miyagi stared at him, a bit surprised at his self insult. Huh, so guys like him really have a low view of themselves. He sighed. "I was married for a while, but it just turned into a mess. Besides, it's nice to get out sometimes."

The brunet didn't reply. Instead, he just shifted his body so he was comfortable, and closed his eyes. Miyagi got bored of reading through papers, and turned out the light 30 minutes later.

The next morning, Hiroki woke up early, made himself look decently presentable, and was about to set out in search of breakfast.

"Maybe we'll see each other again," Miyagi said, grinning a bit.

Without responding, the brunet hastily left the apartment. A little part of him was thankful that he was treated so decently, as he recalled some rather unpleasant memories. He had walked away from clients' houses injured, angry, and regretful many times before. Lost in his thoughts, Hiroki ran his fingers over a scar on his wrist, one of many he had acquired over the years of selling his body. He hated them. Not just the scars, but the horny perverts who had made these permanent marks on his skin. He cursed the world under his breath, and entered a family diner. At the corner of his vision, he could've sworn he saw a kid looking at him. Well, maybe not a kid, but he seemed young. Hiroki turned to get a better look at him, but he was gone. Do I really attract men that well? Even freaking college students are checking me out. Hiroki shook his head in disgust, and moved on.

That night, he had a nightmare. Nightmares were common, but he never got used to them. This one was no different than the others.

Hiroki was lying on a cold floor in a dark room. His body ached all over, but he was too tired to try and ease the pain. 'Why am I naked?' he thought. Then he remembered. Everything came flooding back to him. Tentatively, he touched his behind. It felt sore, and there was blood on his hand when he withdrew it. Why was this happening to him? Whatever the answer was, he needed to drink something. His throat was parched, and his tongue was the driest it had ever been. He climbed the stairs, feeling for the door handle. He twisted it, only to find that the door was locked.

'What? I'm trapped!' Hiroki began to panic. He just wanted to go home. Home, where he was safe. 'I have to get out of here!' This thought overran all his others. He shook the door knob violently, kicked at the door, and threw his body against it. Then it hit him. He had nowhere to go. There was no home for him anymore. As reality sank in, Hiroki slowly dropped to the top stair. Tears began forming in his eyes, and he wiped them away, remembering that it was shameful to cry. However, the longer he sat there, the more he wanted to let the tears fall. So he did. He might have cried for minutes, or hours. There was no way to tell. Finally, Hiroki heard the rattle of the door knob from the other side. 'No,' he thought. 'I can't let him get me. Or… he'll… he'll do that to me again!' But he had nowhere to run. The door opened, and a tall figure stood in front of him.

"Hiroki," the figure patted Hiroki's head. "Why are you crying?"

"My… body hurts." The young child didn't look up at the other.

"Oh, that's too bad. Just let me make it all better." Hiroki felt a hand on his arm. Suddenly, he was being dragged back down into the dark basement. He tried to resist but he couldn't… his body was so sore… and he was so tired…

He caught one last glimpse of light before the door closed, enveloping him in darkness.

Hiroki was shivering. Upon waking from his dream, he found himself drenched in his own sweat, and he was gripping his sheets. He lay there paralyzed, knowing that this fear would subside, but still feeling so afraid at the same time. Eventually, his breathing returned to normal and he was able to move. He rolled over onto his side. I'm okay. He's not here. I'm perfectly fine. But he knew he wasn't. And he wouldn't be as long as he lived.

A/N: I know some of you guys may be angry that I put Miyagi in here before Nowaki since this is an Egoist fanfic, but Nowaki will come out in the next chapter! I promise guys! Please review/favorite :3

~Persephone