AN: I haven't written in a while. Summer was nice and lazy. :3 I guess I'll probably be writing more often now. Happy happy happy. I don't really know what this story is... but whatever. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters. Trust me, I wish I did.

OVERWORKED

Kusama Nowaki was having a busy morning.

From the moment he arrived at the hospital, doctors had been ushering him from one room to the next; so and so needed an assistant in this surgery, such and such ward was understaffed in that room. The whole ordeal was very stressful.

"Kusama!"

"Kusama-san!"

"Kusaaaaaama!"

Nowaki felt like his head was going to explode. Deep breaths. He forced himself to think about 5 pm: the end of his shift. Going home and seeing Hiro-san. Nowaki smiled, despite himself.

"Kusama!" This time, the voice came from right behind him.

Nowaki whirled around to face a tall, blond doctor. "Senpai! Aren't you supposed to be on Floor 3?"

Tsumori nodded. "I've actually got a favor to ask of you. I really have to go at 5, but I have double shifts today. I have this really important date. Hot chick. You'll pick the next one up for me, won't you?"

Nowaki frowned. "Tsumori-senpai," he began. "I don't think—"

"Aw, come on, help a guy out. You're not doing anything tonight, are you?"

Nowaki had been at the hospital since 4 in the morning, but he didn't want to complain. And Tsumori was right: he was probably being selfish. He didn't actually have anything planned tonight.

"Alright, but I should call my roommate and tell him not to expect me," Nowaki relented, feeling a lump rise in the back of his throat at the though of missing dinner with his lover. They hadn't seen each other in over a week; Hiro-san was busy preparing for final exams with his students, and Nowaki himself was working extra shifts at the hospital more than ever.

Tsumori thanked him and sauntered off, allowing Nowaki to dial Hiro-san's number on his cell phone while mentally hitting himself for being such a pushover. The phone rang twice before a gruff voice answered.

"Moshi moshi, Kamijou-desu."

Nowaki's smile brightened at his lover's voice, however displeased it sounded. "Konnichiwa, Hiro-san. I'm sorry, is it a bad time?"

Hiroki responded that no, it wasn't a bad time, and that he was just wasting time in his office, waiting for that damn professor to quit bothering him. "I'll be home by dinnertime."

"Hiro-san," Nowaki explained. "I don't know if I can make it to dinner tonight. One of my superiors has an, er, urgent appointment, and I promised I would pick up his shift. I'll be home late."

There was a long silence on the other end. Nowaki could hear his lover clear his throat. "Nowaki... we haven't seen each other in days. Tell your superior to find someone else or fuck off."

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san. I already promised him I would be there. I'll make it up to you. I promise! I'll see you tonight..." He trailed off, waiting for Hiroki's response.

"Yeah, see you," the older man muttered, a frown on his face. He hung up the phone. Koibito. Lover. You're supposed to see your lover, right? And this wasn't the first time Nowaki had been forced to take an extra shift that he wasn't scheduled to have.

"KAMIJOU-TENTEI!" Two long arms wrapped around Hiroki's shoulders from behind. His captor smelled of cigarettes.

"Kyouju, would you be so kind as to remove yourself from my body?" Hiroki spat through gritted teeth.

Surprisingly enough, Miyagi You released his subordinate and headed for his own desk. "I couldn't help but listening in on your lovely phone conversation," he pried. "Seems your husband is avoiding you...?"

Hiroki glowered. "First of all, Kyouju, Nowaki is not my husband. Secondly, he's not avoiding me; it's the fault of his superior. Thirdly, WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS?"

"I'm just another professor, looking out for his coworker. That same senpai of his that you attacked or whatever? Yeesh... old tensions. I get it."

"What? No! That's not what this is about at all..." Hiroki explained. Wait—was it that same guy? That blond asshole? His eyebrows furrowed at the though of the man who was constantly trying to mess with his relationship.

At the hospital, Nowaki closed his phone. He felt extremely guilty; Hiro-san had sounded so upset! He forced himself to look at the bright side. Hiro-san would have time to get more work done (that is, unless he spent the whole evening sulking), and Nowaki could probably drop an afternoon shift sometime in the future to make up for this one (except that he most likely wouldn't, seeing as they need the money anyway). And hey, absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? He sighed, placing the cell phone back in his pocket and hurrying after Tsumori.

Hiroki closed his laptop. He glanced at his watch—7:34. He wasn't really getting much accomplished, so he might as well head home.

Gathering his materials together, the associate professor halfheartedly called to his superior, "I'm going home. I suggest you do too at some point." Getting no response, he turned around to see Miyagi snoring on his desk.

"Miyagi-kyouju! Don't sleep on the job!" Hiroki selected a large textbook—Literature Theory—and hurled it at the stirring professor as he headed for the exit.

"AHHHHH!" Miyagi sprang out of his chair, stumbled a bit, and backed up, assuming what looked to be some form of a ninja pose. He glanced around the room, confused as to why he wasn't being attacked. "Kamijoooouuu, don't throw books," he whined. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Home." Hiroki slammed the door.

He headed for the subway station, a few blocks away. It was starting to rain, and Hiroki picked up the pace, partly because he didn't want to get wet, but also because he couldn't help himself: he was looking forward to seeing Nowaki at home.

He took the steps down to the train two at a time. Once inside, he slowed his pace a little, allowing himself room to think. Nowaki worked too hard. Maybe if he quit one of his jobs, or once he got to a higher position in the hospital, he would have more free time.

Hiroki paused as he passed by a little flower shop. His train wasn't due in for another ten minutes, and he did have some money to spend. He smiled as he imagined his lover's face, coming home and seeing flowers. So sure, why not?

THE END

AN: Kyouju is what Hiroki calls Miyagi. It basically means professor. Senpai is a word for one's superior. Again, I don't really know what the Japanese train stations look like, so I'm basing them off American stations, with little shops and such. Thanks for reading! Reviews, please!