WARNINGS: Yaoi, Language, Sexual innuendo/actions, Violence, OOC

Disclaimer: I don't own Junjou Romantica nor any of it's characters. I don't even own this story! This belonged to teabags, a very talented writer who unfortunately decided to stop writing but was kind enough to let me adopt her brain baby. The link to her story is attached here (just take out the spaces): www. fanfiction s / 7804169 /1 / Guilt _ Can _ B Killer. Her other stories have been adopted by Don't Preach (The Price of Pleasure) and Update Demon (One Penny Short of a Schilling).

I have two ways in mind that this story can go down, so... I'm going to write both of them! They will be like alternate endings, or parallel universes, to one another. They start out the same but don't end the same. This one is the angstier first chapter is teabags' (I just revised it a bit) and from chapter 2 on, it's mine.

CHAPTER 1: Slumbering

"Don't laugh at me."

He watched the smile stretch across his friend's face, hidden behind a hand that failed to cover it up properly. "You say such ridiculous things, Hiroki."

The brunette's fists clenched while he trembled with fury from this offense. "They are not ridiculous."

He watched the silver haired man stifle his laughter and let out a weary breath. Akihiko leaned away from the door frame of the apartment and shook his head. "Dear, dear. This is not the time to be making such childish conversation, Hiroki," he huffed.

"Wh- what?" Not the time? Childish conversation? "I just told you my feelings," he choked out, "and you are ignoring them?"

Akihiko sighed impatiently, "What do you expect me to do? Fly at you with open arms?" The man snorted and crossed his arms. It was clear that he had rather this be a joke than to be truth, because if it were true, it would just mean Hiroki was wasting his time.

Hiroki dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to bear looking at him for another second. He knew it had been a bad idea to confess. He knew it yet he was foolish enough to ignore his rationality. And finally, when he got the chance, this was his reponse?

Watching Akihiko's feet walk away towards the sofa, he heard the sound of cloth rustling and a coat zipper being pulled up.

"Don't leave," he murmured, but it wasn't loud enough for him to hear. "Don't go."

"Honestly, Hiroki, you mustn't take this to heart," Akihiko began as he slipped the strap of his bag over onto his shoulder. "It isn't you," he said lightly, almost apologectically. "It's just that I love another."

He already knew. Hiroki had already known this. How long had it been since Akihiko fell for that idiot? Six years? And every single day of those six years, Akihiko's love for the simpleton had not ceased, continually twisting the knife in Hiroki's heart that bled with unrequited love. Why?

The words were playing over and over in his head. The emotional torrents

were fuming inside of him. His heart raced and his jaw clenched.

"For that, I cannot return those..." the silver haired man paused, struggling for an appropriate word, "...feelings."

The humor in his tone finally managed to made Hiroki flicker his eyes onto his oldest friend and beloved. Amber brown eyes glared at Akihiko, full of hurt and fury. "You say that as if they don't even matter," he said quietly. His clenched fists tightened, his nails forming bloody crescents into his palms. How dare he? How fucking dare that bastard make a mockery out of his feelings? "I'm not a fucking laughing stock, Akihiko!"

"I never said that you were", he replied while arching an eyebrow at his friend.

The brunette pulled him down by the collar. Akihiko flinched, the anger in those familiar brown eyes something he had never seen directed at him as he did now and yet he'd never seen him in such torment either. Voice trembling, Hiroki searched the lavender eyes for answers. "W-why him? Why does it have to be him?" His voice began to break in between words and he hung his head in shame, for his pride was shattering more than he believed was possible.

Hiroki slowly lifted his head only to find the silverback glaring down at him with unkind eyes. Akihiko didn't respond, apart from clasping his friend's smaller wrists and taking them away from his chest and they dropped back to his side loosely. The taller man turned away from the brunette and started to make his way for the door but he didn't get far when the brunette grabbed his hand in desperation.

"D-" The silver haired man could hear his voice waver. "Don't go, Akihiko."

He couldn't leave. If Akihiko left now, it would break whatever was left of him. Hiroki would never recover. He couldn't leave Hiroki- not now, not when he needed him most.

The hand was yanked away from his own and Hiroki watched him stop by the door with his back still turned. It crushed him to know that he couldn't look in Akihiko's eyes anymore either, for fear of disgust or disappointment.

"The one I love is Takahiro," he stated clearly. "Not you."

"Akihiko, I-"

"Hiroki." There was a sigh and the silver haired man shook his head. "Just stop. Why are you doing this?"

"'Why?'" he echoed. The word reverberated within him, only serving to point out his hollowness. "Do you really have to ask that? I just told you that I love you. Is that all you have to say?"

"What can I say? Look at you," Akihiko scoffed and Hiroki felt his face burn at the disdain. He knew he wasn't acting like himself. He knew that he was embarrassing himself. But he was doing it for him! Why couldn't Akihiko see that? All of this was for him!

"Have you no pride?"

The brunette bit down on his lip when he felt it tremble. He could taste the blood on his tongue. That was the final blow. It was as if his body and mind were disconnected. He couldn't stop his hands from shakily reaching the envelope knife that lay on his coffee table and grabbing it.

It happened so quickly.

The blood came pouring out everywhere. Even while the silver haired man lay on the floor trying to catch his last breaths, the brunette was still on a rampage, digging the tool into pale flesh again and again, deaf to the choked cries and stunned terror reflecting in his eyes until Akihiko's sides stopped moving.

Hiroki lowered his hand slowly, grasp loosening. "A-Akihiko?"

When he had realised what he'd done, his wide brown eyes teared up and he dropped the device, dripping red with the evidence of his crime. It fell with a dull clang on the wooden floor into the growing puddle of liquid life.

"No. Akihiko. No, Akihiko!" The silver haired man lay motionless beside him, covered in crimson, fair hair and skin staining red. "No... NO!"

He grasped his cheeks while grinding his nails along them through the tears. He could taste the salt of his tears and the metallic taste that he knew to be his best friend's blood.

"W-what have I done?" he sobbed.

"Aki-" He couldn't even finish his friend's name, the one he had loved so dearly. He had taken him away.

Tortured screams turned to uncontrollable sobs to shaking wails to muffled whimpers.

"Why?"

For the rest of the evening he lay clutching the lifeless man by his side with his face buried into his bloodstained jacket, wishing he could turn back time, but it was too late.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

"A-Akihiko!"

Hiroki almost jumped out of his skin as he jerked upright on his side of the futon. His sides were quivering and he had already woken up the dark haired man beside him who lay fluttering his eyes at his lover.

"Hiro-san?" He yawned, "Are you okay?" His concern grew when he saw tears begin well up in those brown eyes he loved so dearly. "Hiro-san..." He soothed while reaching out for him, locking his broad frame around the shaking professor. He rubbed his large hands in circles over Hiroki's trembling torso. "Why are you crying?"

"J-just a bad dream," Hiroki mumbled, trying his best to wipe away the tears but they still fell down his face. "Go back to sleep, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure Hiro-san? You don't look fine," he asked his lover, rocking him gently.

Nowaki was warm, the characteristic heat of the man comforting. His hands were warm. Large, just like-

Hiroki pushed him away. "I'm fine! Just leave it. It was a nightmare," the brunette muttered, now getting worked up by the fuss he was creating. He turned away to ignore concern in his lover's eyes. "I'm fine."

Retrieving his hand, the doctor tried not to feel rejection in Hiroki's push. Nowaki tilted his head to the side, brushing another tear away from his face and snuggled back down into his pillow. "I'm right here if you need me Hiro-san, you know that, right?"

The professor sighed. "Yes."

Just as Hiroki thought Nowaki was asleep, the dark haired man laid uncomfortably with his eyes shut. The softening sobs and muffled sniffles of his lover did not escape his notice and slowly weighed upon his heart.

But it was just a bad dream... wasn't it ?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm so excited! This is my first Egoist fanfic, and my first angsty fic! (Although, technically, it's not mine.) If you liked it, please drop off a review. If you really, REALLY liked it, please let teabags know by dropping her a supportive PM or review. That being said, since this is my first attempt at an angsty, non-happy, non-cheesy flufficus story, I would love to know what you thought of it. All opinions, suggestions, or commentary are appreciated.