(Story below song lyrics)

Cream, Prince - Usagi & Misaki, Junjou Romantica

This is it

It's time for u to go to the wire

U will hit

Cuz u got the burnin' desire

It's your time (Time)

U got the horn so why don't u blow it

U are fine (Fine)

U're filthy cute and baby u know it

Cream

Get on top

Cream

U will cop

Cream

Don't u stop

Cream

Sh-boogie bop

U're so good

Baby there ain't nobody better (Ain't nobody better)

So u should

Never, ever go by the letter (Never ever)

U're so cool (Cool)

Everything u do is success

Make the rules (Rules)

Then break them all cuz u are the best

Yes u are

Cream

Get on top

Cream

U will cop

Cream

Don't u stop

Cream

Sh-boogie bop

Look up in the air, it's your guitar

Do your dance

Why should u wait any longer?

Take a chance

It could only make u stronger

It's your time (It's your time)

U got the horn so why don't u blow it (Go on and blow it)

U're so fine (U're so fine)

U're filthy cute and baby u know it (U know it)

Come on

Cream

Get on top

Cream

U will cop

Cream

Don't u ever stop

Cream

Sh-boogie bop

Cream

Cream

Cream

Sh-boogie bop

Cream

Cream

Right there

Cream

Don't u stop

Cream

Sh-boogie bop

Boogie

Song- .com/watch?v=GKaqj4ksVlQ (put after .com of YouTube)

Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica of any of Shungiku Nakamura's work. I do not intend to covet his work in this FanFiction. I also do not own the formerly-known-as-Prince's song, Cream.


Misaki's POV

This essay. Was going. To kill me.

Literally.

As in, there was no way I was going to be able to finish it and so DEMON-sensei was going to kill me in a selection of ways:

With a strong right-curve, aided by a heavy dictionary penned by the most adamant of lexicographers

With an ace throw of his sharpened biro or

My personal favourite- more for the style than the actual punishment- calling Usagi-san and telling him my lack of commitment was slovenly and lacking energy…

WELL, I'M SORRY KAMIJOU-SENSEI, BUT YOUR FRIEND WAS HUMPING MY LEG.

Stupid Rabbit.

I looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen, three metres ahead of me… time, not in reaching distance and speeding away just as fast as I could escape Usagi-san on a good day.

"Urrrrrrrr," I groaned, letting my face fall into my hands, not bothering to care that my calligraphy pen was now staining my cheek blue… it would probably help my case if I went in tomorrow, wrecked and exhausted, stained with the blood of my pen, kanji scrawled intelligently across the page… my passion would come through with the ink!

I blinked twice when I realised I had shot up from the sofa in my heroic daydream and dropped my pen to the table, deciding a cold coffee would help me.

I slouched to the kitchen, opening the fridge and turning around with a mug of Usagi-san's old coffee from this morning. He had it hot at 8 then left it in the fridge all day and- charitable person that I was- I took a sip from it every so often so that the horny bastard could get an inadvertent kiss when he finished it at 4 in the afternoon. This would, hopefully, keep him at bay for an extra hour. Somehow, he could always tell when the sip had been taken…

Looking around the kitchen, I found that my options for procrastination were startlingly abundant.

Usagi-san's exploded egg- from his attempt, this morning, at making a boiled egg for himself- was still sticky on the kitchen surface, the remnants of the shell caught frustratingly under the hob. The washing up from last night's dinner (not done due to an attack by a rather rampant bunny) sat patiently in the sink along with the unbelievable amount of pans Usagi-san had thought necessary to cook an egg.

I blinked, face blank and averted my eyes to the sheet on the table in the living room, pen resting at the side and textbook lounging open… they could be unattended for a minute, surely… After all, Cleanliness is next to Godliness (a bullet-point in my list of reasons why Lord Usami Akihiko was most certainly not a God but a Devil in human form… very fine form nonetheless…) I slapped myself on my unstained cheek for this thought.

As I put Usagi-san's mug back into the fridge I caught a whiff of myself and realised I had not taken a shower for two days.

"I need to have a shower! I stink!"

"You smell of me and sex."

"Not a good thing at school!"

"You'll be cooler if you smell of sex."

"I don't want to smell of c-"

"Say it."

"No."

"Say. It. Say 'cum'. Come on, I dare you. Chicken."

He'd gotten a whack on the arm for that one. I'd been fucked to within an inch of my life for that.

I decided I'd have a shower whilst Usagi-san was out at the Publishing House and then set to work on the kitchen as he returned home. I'd have lunch ready by the time he grumbled in, fag in mouth ready to be snatched out by me and stabbed into an ashtray.

Usagi's POV

I woke up with a start and sighed, disappointed, as I realised that Misaki straddling me, with a red ribbon tied between both our necks, sweat rolling down his hot skin, biting his own lip and moaning my name, riding me slowly and deeply… had all been a dream.

The bear was tucked beneath my arm, which I relaxed as soon as I noticed that my elbow was strangling the poor thing with the sheer frustrated strength rallied by thoughts of Misaki…

Muffled clinking and clunking told me he was downstairs, washing up. Hmm…

I pushed the duvet off from over my head and squinted at the door and took a quick sniff.

Lavender. Damn- I'd missed a shower.

I sat up in the gloom of my room, hung my head and reached without looking for the drawer of my bedside table. Pulling it open, I rummaged for a cigarette. I rested it on my lower lip, letting it stick and then ran my hand under the bed covers trying to find the lighter.

"You got the horn so why don't you blow it…"

I paused. Was that Misaki singing? The raunchy moan of a saxophone buzzed downstairs and I felt an inexplicable smile creep onto my face; if I knew Misaki- and I was fairly sure I knew him entirely, head to toe, inside and out- then he'd be dancing… I'd never seen him dance… which meant he must have thought I was out…

I ruffled the covers off my body, tucked Suzuki-san in and crept over to the door, grinning, as the music got louder.

"Right there…"

I got to the door, just about sidestepping the mini, squeaky Suzuki-san and not crashing over the choo-choo train.

"Buh-now now," I heard Misaki improvise along.

Opening the door was going to require some serious skill. I cracked my knuckles and held the door handle with my index finger and thumb and turned the knob just so. My eyebrows knotted together as licked the end of my cigarette and scratched an itch on my ribcage…

A crack of light filtered into my bedroom and I slid through the narrow gap then froze on the spot.

Misaki. Top half naked. Tight jeans on his lower half. Bare foot. Music blaring. Back to me. Hanging the ten pans I had used this morning as part of a ploy to get him to the sink so I could tackle him whilst his hands were busy…

"Creeam," sang Prince. Oh, thank you, thank you, Prince.

Misaki's slender, soft-caramel coloured back, highlighted by the sunshine prancing through the large windows on the left side of the living room, was moving in a figure 'S' like a snake. The jeans were oh so wonderfully tight around his petite, curved behind, which was swaying from left to right like… God, like I don't know what. It was a Misaki sway, something only he could pull off and only he could arouse me with.

I sidestepped to the right, Mission Impossible in mind and slid down the wall, watching him through the glass barrier.

He started to grind down towards the floor, reaching higher each time with his arms to hook to pot handles onto the rack.

"Get on top. Cream. You will cop."

Ahh, fuck… Misaki on top.

As I sat down fully with my knees up, heartily enjoying the show, I felt a weight in my trouser pocket. Eyes fixed solely on the shadow of Misaki's spine, I reached into the pocket and pulled out my lighter, flicked the switch at the end of my cigarette and as the flame tore the end of it, another flame warmed my insides with lust, want and…

Love.

"You're filthy, cute and baby you know it. You know it. Come ooon."

God, doesn't he know it.

And then his hips started going with the 80's drum beat and he properly got into it, cowboy stepping, alternating on the balls of his feet and pushing his hips out on one side and then the other.

"Cream, don't you stop…"

His brown hair shook with his movements and I tilted my head to the side, took a suck of my cigarette, held it in and…

Misaki's POV

God, I'd forgotten how much I loved this song. I raised my hands into the air and ground down real slow, getting much more into it than I had anticipated and, on a sexy twang of electric guitar, pushed right down to the floor, hands on the kitchen surface and then smoothed my way back up, backside unconsciously pushed out-

And then someone choked, violently, behind me.

I leapt to the side facing the stairs, trying to find the intruder and, in two seconds, worked out how long it would take to get a knife from the drawer (surprising myself with the instinct).

The song dimmed out and the CD slid to a stop in the player by the fridge as I caught sight of Usagi-san, eyes watering and hand over his mouth, his other hand holding a smoking cigarette, sitting on the first floor landing.

Our eyes met for one stomach-flipping second before I blushed profusely and grabbed the nearest utensil at my disposal- a wooden spoon, as fate would have it.

I threw it as hard as I could at the fiendish, diabolical, unhinged author and cursed myself as it arced over the sofa, my gym teacher's face shouting in my head.

Usagi-san regained his breath as I charged towards him, ready to do some serious damage (WHO WATCHES SOMEONE DANCE AND DOESN'T TELL THEM THEY'RE THERE?) and he laughed, shooting up from the floor and pointing towards the stereo.

"Hey, you heard the man," he indicated towards Prince. "Don't you stop!"