DISCLAIMER: Junjo Romantica (anime/manga series) story and characters are owned by the creator Nakamura Shungiku and affiliates. This story borrows characters and situations from the Junjo Romantica series and is 100% fan-made and non profit. Also, suing a near broke college student will gain you nothing! So please don't do it!
I promised new Egoist fics for the month of December, but I was so busy with my studies and extra projects that I didn't have as much time as I wanted to focus on writing them. At any rate, I was able to post something before the end of the year! Please enjoy!
From The Heart, Through The Pen
Hiroki was well rested on the mattress, head sunk into the pillow and eyes closed with a vision of little gold spots bursting and fading in the corners. Halfway into the sleeping state with not a single thought swarming, a sudden string of words encircled him. They came in volumes too vast to tame, but despite it he stayed lying.
Yellows, reds, blues, and grays bled into each other. Contrasting events of rain and sunlight appeared in fluidity, crying for expression. He asked himself the reason, letting daytime awareness kick into the night. He had work tomorrow. He was tired. He didn't have time for this! He wanted to repress the urgency of his imagination, but the untouched opportunity of the language in his head insisted otherwise, and filled faster for every second he waited.
He sat up with a start, compelled and overwhelmed by the persistence. He knew if he didn't do something it would irk him for the rest of the night. Wasting no time, he gathered his pen and journal, ready to do whatever necessary to rid himself of the annoying bug. His strokes soaked into the white page in words he found hard to call his own. For a few glorious seconds everything birthed at its own accord, like it had all been crafted for him. Hiroki moved the pen desperately, to keep up with his thoughts, but the burst of momentum quickly shrank before he'd even began releasing the core of his passions. His vocabulary wasn't enough. The words he wanted could not be conceived. He didn't want to stop, but he couldn't ignore the limitation as he drew a third ellipses.
Hiroki paused, moving his pen to a lower part of the page, hoping a blank space uninfluenced by the short cluster of scribbles he'd already written would refresh him, but nothing came to fruition. Hiroki pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his eyes. He still had the frame, but no longer anything to put inside it. He was left with the desire to write, and the woe of empty progress. It all started to feel pointless. Hiroki shut his journal and gazed at the ceiling, wanting the emptiness and the spaciousness above to release him from the creative tension he'd been so abruptly invaded by.
He looked down at his paper again, and in a more relaxed mood, guided the pen. Methodless and undisturbed, he crossed out the last line he'd written and composed another below it. He scanned further down to the empty spot where he drew eleven brief strokes, then four more for the final character. They were larger than anything else on the page—bold but gentle, striking but simple. The fingers that had applied pressure through the pen onto the page, had since loosened. There was a sense of completeness and peace to be had, or so he thought. In the middle of the night it was difficult to recognize the state of things.
Hiroki skimmed over the marks on the page, unable to make sense of it. He glanced to the other side of the bed, witnessing his partner in slumber. The comforter was high above the younger man's shoulders. Hiroki could only see the top of Nowaki's dark hair standing out against the pillow. He wondered if Nowaki's presence was affecting him. The pen slipped from his fingers and rolled from his lap. Hiroki pulled the page from its binding to examine the content again. It was nothing but nonsense.
Hiroki yawned with his arm stretching towards the other side of the bed. Seeing a body, he expected his hand to land there, but it fell instead to the mattress, waking him to the day. Hiroki turned over to his end of the bed, seeking out the red glaring numbers on the nightstand. The morning hour came into view along the sound of movement and humming beyond the door. He glanced back at the unoccupied space and grumbled, whipping the covers away as he rose out of bed, irritated that Nowaki hadn't woke him.
Hiroki lifted the knot of his tie closely to the split of his collar while musing. His body had been suffering from a lack of rest lately. He didn't need to be awake at such an early hour, but something had jumpstarted him. The scent of scallions squeezed into the bedroom, teasing his nose. He considered hunger as the cause as he walked towards the bedroom door.
Quiet steps came nearer from the other side. Before Hiroki could emerge, his lover appeared through the opening door, his presence accentuated by the light coming in. "Ah, Hiro-san you're awake!" Nowaki exclaimed with energy gleaming across his face.
"No thanks to you." Hiroki's sight fell to the floor as he realized the harshness of his greeting. He reached for the knot of his tie and loosened it away from his neck. He needed to calm down.
Nowaki wanted to reach out for Hiroki but stopped midair, letting his arm return to his side, "I made breakfast. It's early so, you have time to eat, right?"
Hiroki looked up at the taller man, relieved to see his smile unfazed, "Yes."
Nowaki stepped in and wrapped the older man in his arms. "Let go," Hiroki said out of habit, but did nothing in support.
For the past month, Nowaki's nightshifts at the hospital spilled into early morning. Hiroki had gotten all too used to Nowaki being away at this hour. Hiroki sighed softly into his lover's shoulder. It would be shameful not to savor the moment. Nowaki's lips rested against Hiroki's ear as their chests met fully.
"I'm really happy," Nowaki's words traveled as he let out a breath of relief and satisfaction.
Happy, Nowaki said it often when they were together. Hiroki settled in the sound and feel of it. Through a simple and sweet word, a plethora of meaning subsisted. Nowaki's fingers rubbed circles into Hiroki's shoulders before sliding them slowly along his arms.
"Nowaki..." Hiroki managed to say before the air was enveloped between them.
If touching and intimacy could be completely contained in words. What would it look like? What would it sound like? Hiroki was fixated by the possibility. A kiss both discrete and quenching like the one they shared, would surely be beautiful.
Nowaki chuckled after their lips separated, his smile blooming five sizes. "What's gotten into you?" Hiroki asked, small ruby streaks showing across his face.
Nowaki's eyes widen in a slight surprise. His lips fell into a softer expression, as if to correct himself. Hiroki noticed his partner's tethered emotion. Nowaki's cheerfulness was not showing in its full nature.
"Nothing important. Let's eat!" Nowaki chuckled again and took Hiroki's hand as they made towards the kitchen. The response only made Hiroki curious.
Different aromas flowed together: miso, tamakoyaki, salmon, and vegetables filled the senses immediately. The table was set with small dishes holding different components of the meal. Nowaki had cooked a traditional spread, everything was laid out nicely. There was even a tea kettle in the middle of it all, with steam coming up the spout. Hiroki claimed his seat, a small smile forming on his lips as he considered the preparation Nowaki had invested, the utilization of time to its precious extent.
With Nowaki across the table from him, and the flavorful tastes on his tongue, a sweet nostalgia ensued. He recalled the first breakfast they shared in his tiny one-room apartment years ago, the first real conversation they had, the safeness, and the warmness. Every sentiment of that memory collided with the present. Their domestic life wasn't everything that it could be, so it was comforting to know, that these affections remained and evolved, even through the rough changes of the seasons. It was a workday but they were together, peacefully, though for a short while. The smallest things came into appreciation.
The chopsticks touched Nowaki's lips as a soft chunk of rice grains slipped into his mouth. His blooming smile appeared again as his shoulders and chest moved modestly with another chuckle. As delightfully as their time passed, Hiroki had a feeling something had happened beyond his notice. Nowaki's manner held a new lining, like he knew the orangey-yellow hue peaking below the starless early morning darkness had a surprise waiting.
"N-"
"Hiro-san, what are you thinking about?" Nowaki asked before his lover could let out the first syllable.
"Huh?" Hiroki interjected, quickly responding before he was cornered with the question, "I should be asking you that." He carefully placed his miso bowl down before his anxious hand caused a spill. "You've been chuckling every minute like you're trying to contain something. What aren't you telling me?"
Nowaki chuckled again. This time, he viewed his lover through hooded eyes, lips curving wider as he gazed into Hiroki. The older man, though tempted by his shy disposition, found himself unable to look anywhere else but at Nowaki.
"I've already told you. I'm really happy," Nowaki commented, setting his chopsticks across the bowl in front of him.
"I know, but..."
Nowaki observed the, now, empty dishes as he reminisced the past twenty minutes they'd spent. "You've been watching me a lot this morning. Knowing I have your full attention makes me incredibly happy."
"T-That's not the issue, and it doesn't explain your actions from before..." Hiroki stated, finally drawing his eyes away.
His heart was pounding harder than it had in months. It must have been Nowaki's words, or the uniqueness of his manner that brought Hiroki to this delicate state. Nevertheless, it was a reminder of how much of a brightening effect the younger man had on him. Hiroki tried his hardest, not to look at his lover, now that he was conscious of his body language. Their conversation had fallen into softness, causing Hiroki unease.
"Thanks for breakfast!" Hiroki put his hands together, head tilted forward with a slight nod, both to honor the meal Nowaki had made, and to break the silence. "I'll wash the dishes!" He offered, standing in hast, eager to gain some action into the household and hopefully distract himself from the nostalgia that had warmly visited him.
"You're already dressed for work. Let me do it," Nowaki suggested.
Hiroki unbuttoned the ends of his sleeves and folded each one over, "Don't worry about it." He looked towards the table and started collecting the various dishes.
"Hiro-san," Hiroki heard the voice of his partner and all the joy accompanied.
Their fingers interacted briefly upon the side of a tea cup, rimmed with lime green. Hiroki's hand twitched faintly at the contact before he pulled away, letting Nowaki pick it up.
"Here," The younger man offered.
Hiroki peaked up as he took the cup from his lover's hands and was immediately flustered by Nowaki's persistent glow. Uncertainty nagged at him as he made his way towards the sink. He still didn't know the real cause behind Nowaki's peculiar behavior, but if the man didn't want to answer, he wouldn't probe the subject longer than necessary.
"Wait! Hiro-san!" Nowaki called in a cause for caution, catching up to his partner.
"What." Hiroki stopped and turned, looking at Nowaki with an eyebrow raised, caught between irritation and interest.
"Oh...please don't mind. Keep moving forward." Nowaki insisted, placing a hand over Hiroki's shoulder, pushing slightly.
Hiroki squinted his eyes, "And if I don't?"
Nowaki leaned in, placing his lips over Hiroki's cheek. His hand carefully left Hiroki's shoulder and reached to the side, on the counter. Hiroki heard a faint rustling noise. He hazily peaked to the corner of his eye and noticed a flat white object pass behind Nowaki. His eyes opened fully, with Nowaki's blue orbs in proximity.
"What was that?" Hiroki questioned, pulling away and looking over Nowaki's side.
The younger man smirked, "A kiss."
"Idiot!" Hiroki set down the dishes he'd gathered. "What did you take from the counter? It sounded like paper!" he said, reaching behind Nowaki.
"It's information for work." Nowaki responded, turning and shuffling back to keep the object away from Hiroki.
"My ass! If that were the case you wouldn't be trying to hide it!" Hiroki came forward and tried to grab behind Nowaki.
Nowaki stepped back again, transferring the object from one hand to the other behind him. Though Nowaki was reluctant to share, he did what he could without raising his arms. He knew using height to his advantage would only enrage his lover. Hiroki slipped his fingers inside the neck of Nowaki's shirt and tugged down, bringing the taller man to his level.
"H-Hiro-san." Nowaki stuttered in anticipation as Hiroki's lips came closer to his face.
In a moment of pause, the paper was snatched from Nowaki's grasp, leaving him speechless and disappointed without a kiss. With a snicker Hiroki anxiously examined it, but his moment of victory soon sunk as the familiarity struck him. The dark marks and the abrupt lines on the page were a product of his restlessness from the previous night. Hiroki's hands quivered, his thumbs pressed down on his indexes, forming wrinkles to the side of the paper.
"This!" Hiroki said acutely as he twitched and reddened at the realization that Nowaki, had most certainly, read his lineation of words.
Nowaki covered his face with his hand, half in shame for falling for the same trick he'd played on his lover and half amused by the older man's reaction.
"THIS!" Hiroki growled eyeing his partner through squinted eyes which would have been menacing if it weren't for his signature blush. "W-W-Where did you find it!"
"It was lying beside you, on the bed. I saw my name written on it, but figured it was something you hadn't intended for me to see," the younger man replied, looking straight at Hiroki. "I wanted to take care of it before you found out, but when I came back to the room you were already awake, and I was so excited that I forgot all about it..." Nowaki explained in slight embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck briefly and gazed on the paper now in his lover's hands.
Hiroki stared into it. The written language he held was only a reminder of his frustration, of the emotions that could not be done justice even through the prettiest formulation of words, and how anything he passed through the pen could only thinly convey his feelings.
"This is going through the shredder," Hiroki declared and started for the study.
"Hiro-san! If you don't want it, may I keep it?"
"Why should I give it to you?"
"It can be a memento."
"We live together. That kind of stuff isn't necessary." The flustered man looked at his lover over the shoulder before continuing on his way. He took a glance at the paper again. His eyes were lured in by the characters for typhoon. Stopped in his motion, all intent to discard it was swept away.
His words had worn thin beneath the weight of the intensity he wanted to bring forth, but when he casted the strokes of Nowaki that passion somehow came through. In the sliver of time it took him to draw it, the characters allowed him to express in writing, what he couldn't in sentences. Hiroki traced a finger over the name as he noticed resemblance to an old event. He remembered finding the letters Nowaki had written to him from New York, how Nowaki had tried unsuccessfully to pry them away from him, and the reason Nowaki gave for keeping the letters instead of tossing them. "I couldn't. They had your name on them." The voice came in clear. Hiroki wondered if Nowaki had felt what he was feeling now. The name of his beloved written by his own hand was not something to throw away.
Nowaki caped around Hiroki, the smaller man's back pressed to the build of his body, "Whatever you decide to do with it, I'm just happy to have learned more about your feelings."
Hiroki started to wonder what meaning Nowaki had breathed into the words. As flushed as Hiroki was over the event, and as much as he wanted to hide the note from Nowaki, keeping it in his hands would only make him more uneasy. Hiroki remembered the joy he felt, just having Nowaki's letters in his possession. If he could give Nowaki even a fraction of that experience then he'd happily relinquish it.
"Here," he offered the entry to Nowaki over his shoulder, "but I better not see it again."
Nowaki gasped in slight surprise, his chest tensioning briefly. The end of the paper landed over their shoulders as it waited to be claimed. "Thank you so much." Nowaki's hot breath whispered against Hiroki's neck, as he retrieved the paper.
There was a relief at the sound of the words leaving Hiroki's hand and into their proper destination. Nowaki wrapped around his lover tighter, the paper rustling softly, like dry leaves gently blown by the wind.
A heart pulsating
In time and mode with mine.
Roots extending
Like the growing of green vines,
Across everything it contacts.
Sakura pedals rain down
With the leaves of fall.
Multicolored-ness:
A charming diversity
That keeps me on edge.
Different components
Melting together, glaze
Over into a uniform shade.
Altogether, I rediscover:
The breeze, the beauty
Only to be found, for me…
Nowaki
野分
They sat on the couch, fingers entwined. The words came to life, whisking around Hiroki as he let his dark-haired lover take the lead. Catching his partners lips, Nowaki pressed in for a fuller engagement, leaning forward in a suggestion for Hiroki to lay down. In resistance he stayed firm, arms extended behind him for support, though he was likely to give at any second. It was far too early for him to absorb in such stimulating activity, or so he told himself.
Hiroki felt a tug at the front of his belt, "You're going too far..." he murmured, grabbing Nowaki's hand to tame the advance.
"I'll be careful to make sure you aren't late," Nowaki brought a hand to graze the back of the older man's neck as their lips smacked and quickly merged again.
Hiroki's grip tightened over Nowaki's hand before relaxing and letting go. Nowaki's fingers entertained his partner's waist, releasing his buckle and zipper, before sweeping along the spine of his back. Hiroki reached under Nowaki's arms and gripped his shoulders, bracing for the rise and fall of his imminent moan. They descended to the lap of the couch, their breaths roving each others skin.
As the tip of his tongue touched Nowaki's bottom lip, Hiroki lightly considered biting it as payback for distracting him so severely before work, but the pleasure of Nowaki's every motion had already taken him. It was as if they were beneath the fleeting cherry blossoms and maple leaves, witnessing every color of their design. The hectic days seemed far away. He could only feel Nowaki's body, see his face, and treasure the two symbols that represented his existence—a relentless storm rushing through his heart, and washing the weight of the ink from the page.
End
*For those of you who don't know and are wondering, tamagoyaki is basically a Japanese omelet. The term literally means "grilled omelet." It is typically served as part of a traditional Japanese breakfast, but not always.
This past Fall semester, I took an American Poetry class and I was undoubtably influenced by the material I read. This fic is different from my other fics for the sole fact that I involved poetry. I am not a master poet, and never will be, but I hope my poem sounds pretty at the least. I have more stories and ideas for this couple and I will continue writing for them. Expect one-shots, I don't think I can commit to a chapter story right now. I also don't feel an urgency to post anything for Perspective anytime soon since it is a collection of one-shots, all with a sense of closure, and I doubt that people are wondering what's going to happen next. It will be a while before I post another chapter, but there will be more! I will continue with Perspective once I get my other ideas taken care of.
THANKS FOR READING! Please Review! Whether you liked it, or disliked it, I would like to know. If you feel you have nothing to say then leave a smile or a frown!
'Till Next Time! ^_^
