Disclaimer: I don't own Junjō Romantica. But if I did, Hiroki would get spanked. A lot.

Warning(s): This is based on some of the moments from the series but it doesn't follow any order or how they happened. Nowaki's silent suffering. Some smut. Nothing explicit, I think. Two chapters.

A/N: This is for my partner in crime who's going to run away with me to a Victorian style house with a built in dungeon for our pets but who'll probably just end up sharing a prison cell with me where we'll eat Alaskan king crab legs.

"Nowaki"

How can I forget him now? Why did I lie to him? He believes I did it to help him, to make him live his dream of being with Takahiro but it's not true. I wanted him to feel me, to desire me, to love me…I've dreamed about how it would feel to be his, not his friend, but his lover. I wanted his lips against mine. I wanted his hands on me. It was only a few moments, his body hard against mine, the pain, the pleasure…if only he had said my name, at least once, it would have been perfect. But it was Takahiro he was thinking of, it was him he was imagining behind that blindfold, not me. Now I can only remember the way his hands felt on my skin, so cold…Akihiko…

His hands shook as he closed the diary, putting it back on the shelf behind the book of literary theory where he had found it while cleaning. He continued dusting the shelf, ignoring the cold sensation creeping up on his chest and the way it hurt as he took deep breaths. But above all, he ignored the way his heart was breaking.

He really shouldn't have been that surprised; Akihiko had been on Hiroki's life first and even now, that man was always present in some way. He knew it was stupid to be upset by some words written more than six years ago but he couldn't help it, especially because they were about Akihiko. He knew Hiroki had been in love with Akihiko and he had started their relationship knowing who he was competing against. Hiroki had accepted him, given him the change to love him but had never told him of this, of what he had done. Now he knew the extent of Hiroki's love for Akihiko and it hurt. He wasn't hurt because Hiroki had done that, no; he was hurt because Hiroki had never done anything of such magnitude for him.

He was trying to compete with the past again, wasn't he?

Why couldn't he be content with what Hiroki gave him? He should have felt lucky for the opportunity to be with the person he loved and yet, his heart was breaking. He had spent the last six years waiting for something that was never going to happen. Hiroki would never love him, at least not in the way he loved him.

Taking a seat on the couch, Nowaki looked around their tiny apartment. It was filled with books and Hiroki's things. Yes, he was the one who had moved in, but there was nothing of him on sight. He turned to the bookshelf and he saw them. Akihiko's novels. They had bothered him at first, the way Hiroki kept them as prized possessions but as time passed he had accepted them because accepting them was accepting Hiroki and everything that he was. They now seemed to be there to remind him of what he would never accomplish.

He would never be part of Hiroki's life. He would never be able to completely possess Hiroki.

As he licked his lips to get some feeling back into them he was reminded of Hiroki's adamant rule of not being touched. Two days ago, the night they had last been together, Nowaki had taken Hiroki on the floor of their living room. It hadn't been easy; Hiroki had fought him at first, telling him he didn't want to and had pushed him away. But he already knew Hiroki did the same thing every time and that with a little coaxing he was able to get him to give in. He was still wearing his pants around his knees and Hiroki was still wearing his unbuttoned shirt. He always wondered why they never took them off completely but he never attempted to, because he was afraid that if he did, Hiroki would lose his interest in the middle of the whole thing.

His thrusts were quick and shallow as he gripped Hiroki's hips. His lover was on his knees and forearms, pushing slightly back to meet each of his thrusts. He leaned forward to place kisses on his exposed shoulders and between them, tasting sweat and that particular taste that defined Hiroki, a taste he would never get tired of. He tried to lace his fingers with those of Hiroki but the professor moved his hand away, grabbing what he could of the carpet to hold on. He still continued raining kisses where he could, as his other hand reached around the front of Hiroki's hips to find his penis hard and leaking beads of moisture.

He watched as Hiroki arched his back and pushed back harder against him, a small grunt escaping his lips. That was another thing Nowaki didn't understand. Hiroki tried too hard to stifle the sounds he made while they did this as if it was a bad thing. He continued his stroking while he increased the depth and speed of his thrusts and he felt as Hiroki's abdominal muscles tensed with each push of his hips. He watched captivated as Hiroki's body tensed before shuddering and letting a moan out of his lips. With the way Hiroki tightened around him, it only took a couple of thrusts before he climaxed as well.

He lay on top of his lover as they tried to catch their breath and after a moment, he brushed his lips along his lover's cheek, once, twice before Hiroki pushed him away.

"Ugh stop it," the professor said and Nowaki couldn't help but smile.

"But you're so cute right now Hiro-san," he whispered as he lowered his lips for another kiss but Hiroki pushed him away again. Nowaki chuckled and tried again, enjoying how cute his lover looked when annoyed. He finally withdrew from Hiroki's body and the professor quickly sat and reached for his discarded pants.

"Brat. I still have tomorrow's class to plan and you already made me waste my time," Hiroki grumbled.

Nowaki sat behind him, "But it was fun Hiro-san. You liked it," he teased with a soft smile and aimed for another kiss but Hiroki moved away.

There was a small struggle until Hiroki pushed his elbow back and stood up, leaving quickly and with angry words escaping his lips. He didn't look back so he didn't notice Nowaki reaching up to touch his lips to find a spot of blood. He had split his lower lip and it stung as he cleaned the blood away.

As he licked his lips again he could still feel the slight sting of the small cut.

I wanted his lips against mine.

Nowaki stared at Akihiko's books again. Hiroki pushed him away every time he wanted to touch him; he fought him every time he got close and yet…

I wanted his lips against mine.

Akihiko's lips. Not his.

But he couldn't voice his concerns to Hiroki. His lover was always reminding him of their age difference and of the many different things that were separating them. Hiroki would call him a child and that four year difference would again wedge itself between them. He had once thought their age could cause them trouble, that's why he had gone to study abroad. Not because he thought he was too young for Hiroki, but because he wanted to be someone his lover could be proud of.

He had returned one year later and after the misunderstanding about him leaving had been cleared, he had thought they would be fine. One afternoon, returning from work he found Akihiko on the doorstep talking to Hiroki. He watched from down the hallway as Akihiko spoke before reaching out to ruffle his lover's hair. Hiroki looked like he didn't want the touch but made no attempt to move away and Akihiko smiled before turning to leave.

Hiroki always pushed him away when he wanted to hug him or give him a kiss while they were out grocery shopping. In the mornings whenever he reached to kiss him, Hiroki would get annoyed and accuse him of making him late for work.

I wanted his hands on me.

Akihiko's hands. Not his. Never his.

Standing up he walked to the bookshelf again, taking out the book of literary theory to reach for the diary again. It was wrong, this was Hiroki's personal writing and he had no right to be reading it. But he wanted, needed to know if he was at least included in this. He searched for the dates around the time he had met Hiroki, during the time he had left to study but there was nothing. Hiroki talked of his classes, of Akihiko's novels, even of his boss but not of him.

Later, sometime after he had started making dinner, Hiroki came home. He usually greeted his lover with a kiss and a hug that was promptly rejected but today he turned and forced a smile on his lips.

"Welcome home, Hiro-san. How was your day?" he asked before turning back to cutting the vegetables.

There was a moment of silence before Hiroki began talking about his students and the way they wasted their time on their phones and how nobody paid attention to him. Nowaki smiled. He liked hearing Hiroki speak, it didn't matter that most of his words were always filled with annoyance either at his students or at him. He couldn't help being quiet during dinner, he couldn't get what he had read out of his mind. For a moment he thought about telling Hiroki, to question him about their relationship but when he turned to look at his lover, the professor was eating with a frown on his face. He was still in a bad mood and he knew that when Hiroki was in a bad mood all he could expect were shouts and arguments.

As he washed the dishes his mind kept replaying him the words he had read in the diary. He felt sad, lost…cheated. What did Akihiko have that he didn't? Couldn't Hiroki see how much he loved him? But Hiroki probably didn't see him like a lover. He was a pest, someone that had followed him around like a puppy since the start, bothering him and taking up his time. Now he was just a fuck buddy and nothing more. Maybe he wasn't even that. Maybe Hiroki felt sorry for him and was just pretending. Perhaps that's why he was so reluctant to be touched.

Yet, despite knowing all that, he wanted to be with Hiroki that night. He had already decided what he was going to do and he knew this would be their last night together. He would leave the next day. He would free Hiroki of his burden even if it meant he would be unhappy for the rest of his life.

Hiroki fought him, pushing his hands away and calling him a pervert when he tried to move his hand down his pants. But he pushed until Hiroki was accepting his kisses between protests and pushing his hips against his hand. He unbuttoned his shirt, bringing his other hand up to pinch and roll his lover's nipples between his fingers. Hiroki still fought him but his movements were weak now and his words were ending in gasps and soft moans. Nowaki finally slid his pants off, pushing him onto the bed and kissing him before lowering his lips to his chest.

"Stop Nowaki!"

He didn't listen, his lips busy with his lover's skin, caressing with lips and tongue and teeth. Kissing. Tasting. Memorizing. By the time he got to his lover's erection, Hiroki was holding on to the sheets beside his head, his eyes closed even as he still told him to stop. But his protests were weak, accompanied by small sounds of pleasure before they were stifled. When he reached for the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand, Hiroki turned around on his stomach. Nowaki rolled his lover's shirt upward to kiss his back while he prepared him.

There was always a small sound of pain when he pushed inside him but he always made sure to stay still until his lover had adjusted. He lifted Hiroki's hips, his ass in the air and his face pressed against the bed. He began a slow pace, enjoying the heat around him and the sensation of being with the one he loved. He wished he could see his lover's face, but Hiroki seemed to prefer this position. He thought of the diary again. Was Hiroki imagining Akihiko? Was that the reason he preferred to be taken this way, so he wouldn't see his face? Was that the reason he was rarely allowed to talk during these moments?

"Hiroki-san," he whispered, leaning forward. "Hiroki-san."

"S-shut up," he heard Hiroki groan.

Was he ruining the fantasy by talking? He felt the sting of tears in his eyes and he bowed his head, resting his forehead between his lover's shoulder blades as he kept thrusting, his hand already moving between Hiroki's legs. He was doing what Hiroki had done for Akihiko, wasn't he? When he felt it was safe to talk again without giving away his sadness he moved until he was able to kiss Hiroki's cheek. He wanted to see his face in pleasure even if it was just for a moment.

"Hiro-san," he couldn't help but whisper, just to say his name.

"Shut up you idiot! Shut-"

…if only he had said my name, at least once, it would have been perfect.

"I love you, Hiro-san." He felt his lover stiffen and grunt, arching his back and pushing his hips back one last time before he collapsed on the bed with a relieved moan on his lips. Nowaki came a moment later even as he wanted to cry at the same time.

Hiroki fumbled with the covers as they finally settled on the bed. Nowaki watched as Hiroki lay on his side facing him but there was distance between them. One of his lover's hands was resting on the pillow and he reached to touch it. It was immediately pulled away beneath the covers with an angry growl. Nowaki smiled, endeared by the professor even as his chest hurt and his eyes watered.

The next morning he cooked breakfast and when Hiroki came out of the room complaining about not being woken up in time, he walked toward him and kissed him. His lover stepped back, moving away and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"What's the matter with you? I need to go to the university," Hiroki exclaimed, walking toward the sofa to get his briefcase.

"Hiro-san…" his voice trailed off. He knew he was stalling, waiting for him to say something, anything to make him stay. But there was only silence and a scowl.

"I love you Hiro-san," he whispered again but Hiroki was already walking and leaving without looking back.

Packing was easy, he didn't have a lot of belongings and most of them were in boxes. The only thing he wasn't able to leave behind was the picture that he had placed on the refrigerator's door. It was a picture of him and Hiroki on the living room. He had used the timer on the camera and had promptly hugged the professor only to be yelled at. The final result had been a picture of him reaching for a kiss and a Hiroki with a scowl on his face.

"You really are cute, Hiro-san," he whispered to the tiny apartment.

It was raining as he made his way down the street. A moment later his vision blurred and he felt hot trails down his cheeks. He kept on walking. It was the rain. He wasn't crying. That would only prove he was the child Hiroki thought he was. It was the rain, it had to be.

"Goodbye Hiro-san"

TBC

My first time writing for this fandom but it has been fun so far. The next chapter will be out soon!