Shiver

Summary: Misaki left to study abroad in the US, Usagi does not know if he will ever come back and tries not to lose hope. One day Usagi catches a glimpse of a pair of familiar green eyes, He finally has hope but all is not quite right. (One-Shot)

It has been a long time since I have watched Junjou Romantica but I figured I would write some FF anyway. They are probably OOC but whatever. The idea has been in my head for a while so I hope you enjoy.

Junjou Romantica belongs to Shungiku Nakamura, I am purely writing to amuse myself. I do own Chizuru and Tyson. They are original characters made up on the spot.

Sorry about any typos or mistakes.

Years. It has been years since Misaki left. 5 years to be exact, and Usagi was lost. He was as lost as the day he found the note on the floor, and an empty room.

It had been early in the morning and the usual sounds of breakfast being made where absent, and Misaki was nowhere on the first floor. Usagi would have missed the small torn piece of lined paper if it had not been for the breeze coming through the open door. He had moved to throw it in the garbage but the smudged blue lines caught his attention. It was almost as if a liquid had spilled, more like drops of water. He had turned the, now dry, paper over and saw the familiar handwriting of Misaki.

Usagi,

I'm leaving. I have done a lot of thinking and realized that I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to do about us. It's weird and strange…not right. I have to go away, I have to get away. My professor gave me a brochure a couple of weeks ago on an economics program overseas. I'm going. I don't know how long I will be gone, or if I will come back.

Misaki

Strangely, Usagi was very calm. It had not sunk in yet. He realized the door must have been open because it did not close all the way from Misaki's rush to leave. He remembered the deadline for his next book was due today. The new ribbon he bought for Suzuki was still in its bag from yesterday, and the red light on the answering machine was flashing.

Usagi put the winkled paper into his pocket and slowly made his way upstairs. Misaki's bedroom door was slightly agar, and when opened fully the first thing Usagi thought was white. The entire room was white, devoid of any color. The bed was stripped and the wall, once covered with posters, was bare. The drawers were empty and the closet did not have a single article of clothing. Usagi dropped to his knees, the floor was ice cold. Misaki was really and truly gone. As much as he wanted the tears to fall they would not, just as the room he felt empty.

It had been five years since the last time he saw Misaki and during that time Misaki did not call, not even one. Usagi had long since become a shell of the man he once was. He did not eat like he should and as a result lost some weight. Aikawa had gone to the great links to hire a butler, but that did last long and strange man was gone within less than 24 hours. His novels were gothic and ended with tragedy. He stopped writing BL manga all together.

This last year had gotten better though, he came to finally accept that Misaki would not be returning. It began to show in his work too, his smiles were fake but the main characters of his books no longer perished. He was trying, and for Aikawa it was more than enough.

It was November and the snow was starting to stick to the roads. The days were cold and the nights freezing.

Usagi was making his way home from a meeting. It was not far from home so he braved the cold and walked. The streets were busy for a cold day. Usagi assumed they were shopping for Christmas presents for family and loved ones. Usagi had not bought any. He did not see much of a reason to do so. He passed a small store that sold odds and ends. A mug caught his eye, it was not fancy or pretty, more plain than anything. He thought it would be a good gift for Aikawa. He had not bought presents for anyone for years, but he decided that this coming year things should change.

A bell chimed as he went inside and the cashier offered a friendly greeting. He found the mug easily enough and started for the checkout. A small commotion outside drew his attention before he reached the desk. Snow was starting to fall and a large crowd was gathered a few shops down. Curiosity kept him watching. They fanned out quickly enough, why they gathered he did not know. He was turning away from the window when something again captured his attention. It was a flash in his peripheral vision, a flash of brown hair and green eyes.

Usagi stood still for a very long time, enough for many people to come in and then back out of the store. His mind was stuck on the flash of brown and green, the possibilities were zero. Thousands of people have brown hair and green eyes. Usagi left the store, but wandered the streets for hours lost in memories he had vowed to forget. It was not until he had gotten home that he remember the mug, he had forgotten his reason for entering the store and left without it. He went to bed without bothering to change clothes and dreamed of haunting green eyes.

A week later there was a small box in front of the door when he got home from talking to his editor. The box was wrapped in newspaper; it showed the comic section. Pieces of the paper were ripped and hastily fixed with too much tape. Usagi did not see a card anywhere on or near the box; it seemed the sender was anonymous.

He opened the gift on the couch after making some tea. There was only one thing in the box, a deep royal purple ribbon. Usagi stared at the ribbon nestled in tissue paper for a long time. It was a while before he realized it was for Suzuki. He sighed and took a sip of the lukewarm tea, then glanced at the newspaper. The cup of tea slipped from his hand and shattered against the floor. There in bold print at the corner of the paper was written "New York Times". The paper was from the US, overseas.

"Misaki." Usagi whispered breathless. He was here. Misaki was here. The brown hair and green eyes he saw a week ago was no illusion. A thousand things flashed through his mind at that moment; the intoxicating smell of Misaki's shampoo on his pillow, the warmth of his subtle touch, bashful glances, sweat smiles, the red blush that covered his cheeks, breakfast in the morning, Misaki curled against him fast asleep. Misaki was here, but where?

With the ribbon clutched tight in his fist he hurried to the phone and made phone calls for the rest of the day. He finally got the answer he was looking for when the sun started to set and rain began to fall.

Takahiro had not answered until then, he had called many times over the last few hours. He rarely spoke to him the last few years, after Misaki left he had called every day. Takahiro never told him what he wanted to know, just what he already knew.

"Takahiro, Misaki is back." It was not a question but a statement. The other end of the line was quite for so long Usagi thought he had hung up, but there was no tone.

"Yes." Takahiro's answer was short and music to Usagi's ears.

"Where? Where is he Takahiro? Tell me, please."

"I-I don't, Usami. He will come when he is ready." Outside the rain fell harder and thunder shook the glass. Usagi, with his back to the door, slid to the floor and rested his head in his hand.

"Takahiro-" Usagi's voice caught at the end of the name. Just once, that was all he needed. He just wanted to see Misaki, even if at a distance. If Misaki did not want him in his life, that was OK. No, it was not OK, but he would deal with it.

"Balboa Park, 8:00am."

"Thank you."

At 8:05 the next morning the sky was overcast and sprinkling. Balboa Park was a couple hours train ride from the city. It was a beautiful garden with a large pond and a bridge covered in moss. The light rain made the park look serene. Usagi had only been to the park a few times before, but he knew enough to make his way to the small covered picnic area.

Usagi, partially shielded by a tree, watched the small gathering. There were about 10 or so people under the wood structure. Many of them were unfamiliar, but he could pick out Takahiro, his wife, and their 3 year old daughter. Usagi searched the gathering for a familiar pair of green eyes and brown hair, but the search left him disappointed.

One person stood out from the crowd, a young American. The Man was tall and broad. He had messy light blond hair and blue eyes. His hair was spiked and the ends where dyed blue. Even with his faded dark jeans, with holes in the knees, and a rumpled gray graphic t-shirt, he was very handsome. He must be a friend of Misaki's and came to visit, at least that was what he hoped.

A man came around the corner then, he carried a bag filled with plastic blue cups and wheeled a cooler behind him. He rolled the cooler next to one of the large support beams and the spikey haired blond took the bag of cups. He tossed them on the table and threw an arm around the man and put him in a head lock. The small group laughed at their antics.

It was then that Usagi realized the man was Misaki. He did not even recognize him. His hair was brown and his eyes were as green as emeralds, but that was where the similarities ended. He was no longer scrawny but rather broad. He had gotten a little taller and the muscles beneath his thin shirt were prominent. His hair was longer, differently styled, it suited him. His hair was dark from the rain and slightly covered his eyes; it was shaggy but well kept. His hair in the back stuck to his neck, wet with rain, and brushed the collar of his t-shirt. His facial features where more angular, sharp. Misaki had grown up a lot while he had been in the US. He was so handsome it hurt.

"Tyson!" Misaki shouted with a hint of laughter. The spikey haired blond, Tyson, let Misaki go and grinned mischievously. Misaki grabbed the back of Tyson's neck in return and ran his hand through the blond hair, messing it up. Tyson shouted and tried unsuccessfully to fix his hair.

"Misaki," Takahiro's voice was sheepish and light, "I forgot the camera in the car could you get it?

"and Chizuru needs blankey!" The three year old shouted and clapped her hands excitedly.

"Sure, sure, I will be back." Misaki smiled and took the keys from Takahiro. He ruffled Chizuru's light brown hair as he passed, which made her giggle with happiness.

This was Usagi's chance to capture Misaki alone. He followed him as silently as he could. He did not want to alert him of his presence yet. He wanted to watch him for a little longer. Usagi's heart was beating so fast he was surprised it had not jumped out of his chest. Misaki's stride was long and confident. Usagi stopped on the bridge and brushed the wet hair from his eyes. The rain was coming down harder and his clothes were soaked. He stayed on the bridge and watched Misaki disappear down the path. He needed to catch his breath and hopefully try to slow his heart rate.

It was a few minutes before his heart finally slowed. His closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A twig snapped nearby and caused Usagi to turn toward the sound. It was Misaki. He stood a few feet away at the beginning of the bridge. He was looking at Usagi with a blank expression. Usagi's heart rate started up again, pounding in his chest. They started at each other, neither moving nor looking away.

Misaki was the first to move, he set the blanket and camera on the stone barrier of the bridge. His expression still blank, he looked back at Usagi. Then he smiled a small half smile. It was rebellious and mischievous, but it was a smile none-the-less. In large strides Misaki covered the distance between the two. Usagi could not have moved if he tried, he was frozen to the spot. He was captivated by emerald eyes, so close. Misaki stood close enough to touch if Usagi would only move a foot.

Misaki glanced down at his shoes, the first time Usagi saw a glimpse of the old Misaki. He was nervous. When Misaki looked back up it was through his eyelashes. He did not have to look far; Misaki's eyes came to Usagi's chin. Misaki's hair stuck to his checks and forehead. He too was soaked with rain.

Misaki moved again, he closed the small distance between them and wrapped one arm around Usagi's neck. With his other hand he grabbed a bunch of Usagi's shirt in his hand and jerked the tall man forward. Misaki kissed him. It was the lightest and softest kiss Usagi had ever received by anyone. It lingered for just a second, and then was gone. Usagi shivered, he shivered all the way from his head to his toes, not from the cold of the air or the stinging bite of the rain, the rain that was beginning to turn to snow. He shivered from the simple touch of the kiss, of Misaki's warm hand on his neck, and the pull of his t-shirt tightly clutched in Misaki's hand.

Misaki very carefully, as if trying to cox a small animal, placed Usagi's arms around himself. Misaki tightened his grip around Usagi's neck, rested his head on Usagi's collar bone and closed his eyes.

Finally, Usagi was able to move. He squeezed Misaki so tight to his chest the smaller man's breath caught in his throat. He buried his head between Misaki's neck and shoulder. He smelled of aftershave and spices. Usagi was sure this was a terrible nightmare, that he would wake up and be all alone.

"Misaki." Usagi's tone was deeper than he expected.

"Hmm." Misaki's hum rumbled through his chest and gave his goose bumps, goose bumps. It was at that second he knew. Misaki did not have to say a word. He knew it was not a dream. He knew with every fiber of his being that Misaki was his. That he would never leave again.

Finished.

It only took about 4 and half hours to write. Ridiculous. I am proud of it though.

This is my very first fanfiction ever. Wow. I have read fanfiction since I was 13 but never wrote any. Then 6 years later we have Shiver. I hope you enjoyed it. Misaki is very far off from his character, but I always wanted him to be a little more confident.

So I did not know quite what to do with Misaki's hair. The one I chose for him is my favorite style for men and is actually kind of similar to the one he already had. Imagine Kaname's hair style from Vampire Knight.

Ok so I am off, I hope you have a wonderful day. I am off to figure out what to do with my profile on here. I just made it yesterday. Bona Fortuna (Good Luck).