WARNINGS: Yaoi (WHAAAAT? REALLLLLYYY? Nooooooo, that can't be!), Language (cursing- mostly on my part, English and bad Japanese), OOC, Fluff of the cheesy variety
DISCLAIMER: This wasn't based off the movie but I don't own "P.S. I Love You" anyway, nor do I own Junjou Romantica nor any of it's characters. I may own some Post-It notes but I can't even be sure about that.
One by one, books were carefully stored into the luggage with great precision and the thick volumes joined their other friends in the confined space. Hiroki frowned. He was running out of room again. He just took out a trilogy of novels; how did he not have more room? Huffing, he took everything out again and tried to fit them together like pieces of a puzzle.
"Hiro-san, at this rate, you won't have room for clothes. Or anything else," Nowaki gently noted as he came in from behind the brunet. Little did he know that he had pointed out the fact that the professor had been denying for the past hour.
"Shut up," he muttered.
Nowaki smiled and wrapped his arms around Hiroki's slim waist. The tall doctor buried his face in the crook of the professor's neck and breathed in his scent.
A smile flitted across Hiroki's face. He went over his mental checklist. 'Okay, books, research, files, shirts, pants, shoes... shoes?' He cursed. There was no way he could fit anything else in there. Unless he took out some of his books. No, that was ridiculous. 'One pair is all I need anyway.' Now all he needed was to pack his laptop. 'Where was it again? Oh, that's right. Living room.'
"Nowaki?" He tried to head towards the living room but the giant glued to his back had a different plan. "Nowaki. Let go, I can't pack like this." He tried to move again but to no avail. "Nowaki!"
"No," he mumbled into the professor's neck.
"Nowaki," Hiroki warned.
The younger man just whined and hugged him tighter.
Hiroki sighed and let his lover hold him, knowing that this would probably the last time for a while that he could. He knew that Nowaki didn't want him to go. After all, he was spending the whole month away with Miyagi. Heck, if Nowaki told him that he was going away with that blonde asshole coworker of his for even a weekend, he sure as hell would not be happy about it. Which was why he was even more grateful that Nowaki was being so supportive of his decision.
Those muscular arms around his torso were warm and Nowaki's even breathing was a comforting feeling. Hiroki leaned into the strong chest pressed against his back. 'The laptop can wait,' he supposed. Not like he would be using it much anyway. The remote yet renowned university he was guest-lecturing at used to be a monastery and still held many of its traditional values, meaning that while Hiroki was on stay there, he would have to abide by their "no technology" rule. One month without Internet, Wifi, phone calls.
Once upon a time, Hiroki would have shrugged at that and merrily went on his way without a second thought, provided that he was allowed an adequate amount of literature to keep him entertained. ('Which, considering the history behind the university, should hold a vast library of rare religious texts and scriptures.') Now that he had someone waiting for him at home, Hiroki felt uneasy at the thought of losing all contact with his lover for a month.
It would almost be like that dark year that almost tore the two of them apart. The only thing that had made that over-extended leave of absence tolerable even now, was that Nowaki had returned. And with a bag full of cheesy, heartfelt love letters that were so characteristically sappy.
The professor fidgeted in his lover's arms. He didn't have to leave for the airport until tomorrow morning at nine when Miyagi came to pick him up. He supposed packing could wait a while...
Hiroki turned slightly, head bowed and nuzzled comfortably under Nowaki's chin. "Hey, Nowaki?"
"Hm?"
"...I'm cold."
A slow, lascivious grin made its way across Nowaki's face and Hiroki fought hard to keep himself from blushing.
"Really? In that case, allow me to warm you up..."
Despite his wishes, as always, the red flush made itself at home on Hiroki's face. He was fighting a losing battle.
Hiroki traced the outline of Nowaki's jaw gently as the young doctor slept. Usually, he was the one who passed out immediately after sex but tonight he wanted to be awake to cherish every moment of Nowaki as long as possible. Long fingers skimmed the soft skin lovingly and large brown eyes tried to burn this image into his mind forever.
He never really got to appreciate how sweet and serene his lover looked when he slept. Nowaki snored slightly under Hiroki's touch. The younger man reminded Hiroki of a sleeping baby. Completely safe and innocent in his dream world, pure and untaintable. Lovable and adorable. His thumb brushed against Nowaki's lips and, as if he were concious, Nowaki smiled in his sleep.
Hiroki couldn't remember a time when he felt more content and relaxed. He could stay here forever if he could, in his little cocoon of pillows, blankets, and Nowaki. Really, what more could he want from life when everything he loved was within literally within his arm's reach?
But alas, he was a man on a mission and therefore he could not stay nestled into the warmth. Hiroki had to do this now, away from the curiously disarming blue eyes of his lover, and while he still had the nerve. He could already feel the heat pawing at his cheeks at the mere thought of what he was about to do. It would actually kill him, no exaggeration, if Nowaki caught him in the act.
If Hiroki of any age could see himself now, he wouldn't be able to believe his eyes. Hiroki could have never imagined going through this mortification for anyone. Though Nowaki was always the more considerate and patient one of the two, Hiroki knew without a doubt that he was just as whipped as Nowaki. He would do anything for the other man.
Carefully extricating himself from his lover's arms, Hiroki slipped on a pair of boxers that were hastily torn off and left on the ground. No way of knowing whose they belonged to in this light, though they felt loose on his hips so they were probably Nowaki's.
As quietly as he could, the professor made his way for the living room and got to work.
Morning came and Nowaki was faced with his usual morning ritual and waking his lover. He had been trying for the last ten minutes now, and as experience told him, there was still a few more minutes before the man would actually wake up.
"Hiro-san." Poke, poke. "Hiro-san." Nudge, nudge. "Hiro-san, wake up."
Grumbling, Hiroki just rolled over (away from the voice and the unwelcome disturbance) and continued sleeping.
"Hiro-san, you have to leave in two hours if you want to make it in time and you should eat something first. You can sleep on the plane."
No response.
"Hiro-sannnnn." Nudge, nudge. "Wake up, sweetie-pie."
No response.
"Sleeping Beauty. Jiggly-poo. Cuddle muffin. Love bug. Cutie McAdorablekins."
Hiroki grumbled. "Shaddup," he slurred.
Grinning widely, Nowaki took that as an invitation. He leaned over and kissed the cinnamon colored professor deeply on the lips, morning breath and all.
"NOWAKI!"
The doctor caught the flying pillow with a huge smile, "Good morning, Hiro-san!"
Black waves of doom radiated from Hiroki as the professor tried to glare a hole through Nowaki's impenetrable armor of positive energy. Then he remembered that this would be the last time they get to see each other until next month. Frowning, Hiroki crossed his arms. "Morning."
Nowaki's happy glow grew so bright, Hiroki almost closed his eyes at the risk of falling asleep again. "I made you breakfast. You have time to take a quick shower if you hurry."
One would think that after all these years, the brunet would be able to figure out where the hell all that happy energy could possibly come from this early in the morning. They would be wrong. Sighing, Hiroki dragged himself out of the sweet embrace his blankets and bed formed, to face the cold dangers of the world.
One refreshing shower later, the professor was sitting at the dining table, more or less awake. Damn it, he was tired. Hiroki had not known that his secret task would have taken so long to complete. Not to mention that he had to drop everything and crawl back into the bed every time it seemed like Nowaki was waking up, which was surprisingly frequent. It was as if the younger man could feel his missing presence.
The thought of Nowaki missing him, even in his sleep, made Hiroki flush and he disguised his face in his coffee mug. Peeking out from his peripheral vision, the professor could see that his lover had made all his favorites for breakfast. "Nowaki, you don't have to make food I like every time."
The giant lug shrugged. "It makes you happy."
It was comments like these, delivered in that simple, matter-of-fact tone, that made the professor fumble with words. It was stunning, the way Nowaki could use words against a literature professor. Looking away (oh, hey, a convenient piece of lint on his shirt!) he mumbled, "You make me happy. Moron."
He kept his eyes fixed upon his breakfast, chomping down on his food furiously. Hiroki knew that if he looked up, he would inevitably see that blindingly bright beaming smile on Nowaki's face, which meant he would blush and get all defensive, which meant Nowaki would find it adorable (the idiot didn't know the meaning of the word), which meant they would end up having hot passionate sex, which meant Hiroki would be late for the plane.
"Hiro-san, I-"
A car honked outside of their apartment. Miyagi called out to them, "Oy! Kamijou, my sweetie pie! Time to go!"
Hiroki didn't know whether he was relieved or irritated by Miyagi's timing but judging by the expression on his face, Nowaki was definitely the latter.
Standing quickly, Hiroki gathered his luggage. "Okay, I'm going to go now. I left a list of emergency contacts by the drawer in case anything happens. Bakahiko should know better than to call the landline but if he does, just tell him why I'm not here and then direct him to my cell or email. I'll call you when the plane lands."
"Hiro-san." Nowaki stood in between the professor and the door. "I... I'll miss you."
Hiroki felt his heart break just a little at the sincere sadness behind those words. He traced his fingers along the taller man's jaw and bowed his head against Nowaki's warm torso. "I know. I'll miss you too."
A pair of arms wrapped around Hiroki's narrow waist and pulled him flush against Nowaki's chest. Hiroki dropped his bags, tilted his head back and pressed his lips against his lover's. He bit Nowaki's bottom lip gently and the dark haired male opened his mouth invitingly, taking pleasure in giving Hiroki control. It was passionate and loving, but not in a sexual way. It was merely two lovers saying good-bye and trying to keep this memory intact to tide them over for the month.
Nowaki's fingers danced up and down Hiroki's spine soothingly and the brunet sighed into the kiss. He would miss this, he really would.
At one point of his life, Hiroki would have been ashamed of his dependency. He would have claimed that he needed no one, that with or without Nowaki, the world would go on turning. Now, he knew that yes, the world would keep on turning- except, he would be stuck in place and unable to move along with it. That one year in America had proven that.
The kiss ended and Nowaki dusted a kiss against his lover's cheekbone. "I love you, Hiro-san."
Hiroki looked deeply into those blue-black eyes. "Nowaki, I lo-"
"KAMIJOU!"
The car honked impatiently. "Come on, didn't you two 'say goodbye' enough last night?! We're going to be late!"
Hiroki and Nowaki both felt their tempers rising at the ill-timed Miyagi Yoh. "Alright, alright! I'm coming already, calm down!" Hiroki pecked Nowaki on the lips quickly and hurried to the car, hissing at the older professor. "Oh, like you aren't at fault for us running late? I bet you were 'saying goodbye' to your little blonde brat all night long, you old pervert! Don't deny it, I see the hickeys on your neck."
The two professors bickered in the only way they could communicate as Hiroki got into the car and the car started.
They drove away, still quarreling, and Nowaki watched with longing eyes as his Hiro-san left him.
Heavy footsteps sounded against the floor as Nowaki dragged his half-dead body into the apartment. He locked the door and then unceremoniously fell to the floor. He groaned when he realized he had to get back up to turn the lights on. He didn't think he could handle all that effort... Maybe, if he stretched his leg up far enough, he could flick the light switch on with his foot.
Nowaki tried this and felt a small triumph at his success. What was supposed to be a regular night shift, turned into three whole days stuck at the hospital. Three whole days without sleep, because someone accidentally tripped the fire alarm and the sprinklers had ruined a lot of files and computers, in addition to flooding some rooms. He had literally been drowned in work right after Hiroki departed.
He hadn't seen the apartment since his lover had left but Nowaki had to admit, he hadn't been looking forward to coming home very much. The apartment was simply an apartment when Hiro-san wasn't here; Hiro-san made it home.
Nowaki sighed. Speaking of Hiro-san, Nowaki had been relying on work to keep himself from thinking about his adorable brunet lover. Now that he was alone, there was nothing to distract him from the obvious lacking presence of his loved one.
He closed his eyes. He could just imagine what Hiro-san would say if he could see him now:
He would cross his arms and frown, most disapprovingly, but his large cinnamon brown eyes would reveal his concern. He would gruffly chide him, "Get up off the floor, Nowaki. You'll catch a cold." And then Nowaki would drape his arms around the smaller man instead, which would result in Hiro-san bonking a book on his head, before reluctantly dragging him into bed.
He really missed Hiro-san. And it was only day three. There was still over three more weeks to go.
Three whole weeks without his sweet, wonderful Hiro-san...
Nowaki didn't think he could make it. He would die. He might very well die. And when the EMT rolled him into the hospital, they would declare his cause of death to be lack of Hiro-san. And then Hiro-san would come home only to find that he had been abandoned by him again. Hiro-san would understandably be upset, and then never forgive him for it, then he would elope with that rat-bastard Usami, and never think about Nowaki again. Not that Nowaki could do anything about that. He would be dead.
'Now you're just being ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself. I thought doctors were supposed to be smart.'
...
Nowaki supposed he might be a little too dependent of his other half's existence if the sound of his conscience had been replaced by Hiro-san's voice. But on the bright side, he had a lot less trouble doing the right thing now. He could never not listen to Hiro-san.
Nowaki blinked his eyes open, then noticed something odd. Was that...? He squinted. His vision was so blurry and strained right now that he couldn't tell if there really was a Post-it note on the door, or if he was just imagining it.
Nope, nope. It was definitely there.
Groaning, he picked himself up off the floor and plucked the note off of the door. Nowaki blinked through the fuzziness to make out the words on the tiny yellow square:
Get up and sleep on the BED, moron. Why keep a bed around when you're just going to sleep on the floor? You better not have a cold when I come back because I really will kick you out.
-KH.
Nowaki smiled. He rubbed his thumb against the neat print, feeling the deep indentures of the pen against the paper. He could imagine the brunet professor scrawling this down with a fierce scowl and a delicious blush adorned on his face.
Lighter ink blots revealed there was more writing on the back. Nowaki flipped it over and read:
One last thing... Guess what? I love you.
A warm feeling of joy spread within him and Nowaki smiled. He kissed the note and put it in his pocket.
Morning came and Nowaki was running a bit late, rushing to make it to the hospital in time. No time for a shower (thank Kami, he forced himself to take a quick one last night). He gargled mouthwash (no time for brushing) while pulling on a random pair of pants he pulled out of the closet. He grabbed his jacket and bag and ran towards the door when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye that made him pause and backtrack.
Stuck on the refrigerator door.
Yellow.
Square.
Post-it.
Nowaki grabbed it and his eyes quickly devoured the text.
You're probably running late and I just know you're going to skip breakfast. Hypocrite. You can't tell me to not skip meals when you do it all the time. I'm telling you right now: if you dare skip breakfast, I will kick your giant butt when I get back, understand? And don't think I won't know because I will!
I love you.
-KH.
Nowaki grinned and opened up the fridge. He supposed he could grab something to eat on the train.
It was getting pretty late.
Nowaki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. His shift was over and he knew he should probably go home, but he had so much paperwork to do! Besides, what would he have to look forward to at home? Empty silence and lonely darkness, that's what.
And he just knew that the moment he got home, he would tear the place apart looking for more notes from his lovely Hiro-san. Nowaki had to restrain himself, because the hope of finding more by serendipitous chance would be the only thing keeping him going for the next few days. He wanted to find them the way Hiro-san meant for him to find them, so as not to let his lover's efforts go to waste.
Ah, Hiro-san.
Nowaki reflexively smiled at the thought. Nowaki wondered when the brown eyed professor had had the chance to accomplish such a feat without alerting him. Most likely when he was at the hospital or asleep, because there was no way the shy and easily embarrassed Hiro-san would ever try something like this with any potential witnesses around.
Just the thought of Hiro-san sleuthing around like a ninja made Nowaki want to giggle. And if the older man got caught in the act, his cheeks would flush a most enticing red and he would yell something to make Nowaki go away, which of course wouldn't work, because who could possibly turn away from that oppurtunity? No, Nowaki would take his chances and pounce on his lover, which could hopefully lead to wall sex. And then floor sex. And then couch sex. And then bedroom sex. And then shower sex.
...
Great. Now he was horny.
Nowaki willed the thoughts of his lover to go away and checked the clock on his desk. 11:13 PM.
He supposed he could just spend the night here. There was plenty to be done at the hospital, anyway. He opened up an old file of his and, with pleasant surprise, picked up the Post-it.
Considering how old this file is, if you got this note, you must have nothing better to do. Productivity is good but don't make that an excuse to put off sleep. And don't pull any of that "I can't sleep without you there" nonsense. You are a doctor- you should know better.
Love you.
- KH.
Grinning, Nowaki put his files away and packed up his work for the day, heading out the door.
Nowaki's stomach grumbled in protest to its emptiness and neglect. It had been hours since he last ate but it was too late for any convenience stores nearby to be open and there just didn't seem to be much of a point to cooking a full meal when it was just dinner for one. He headed over to the cupboard in search of some instant ramen.
The tall doctor smiled a bit nostalgically. Instant ramen reminded him of his college days, back when he was alone in America and even more poor and miserable than an average college student. Come to think of it, he had had to resort to instant ramen often when he was living alone and juggling six jobs too. It was only after he moved in with Hiro-san that the packaged, flavored noodles had disappeared from his life. Hiro-san frowned upon all things instant.
For a man with not much patience, the professor had a deep appreciation for things prepared with great time and effort: food, coffee, writing, particularly thought and speech.
Nowaki couldn't say he cared much for the taste of MSG but a guy had to do what a guy had to do. He felt a little guilty, actually, as he reached to open the cupboard. As a doctor, he should be more conscious about his diet. As the man dating Kamijou Hiroki, he should not disappoint him.
As his fingers brushed around the cupboard, Nowaki could not say that he was surprised to find a Post-it in there instead of his simple three-minute dinner in a pack.
Instant ramen? Don't even think about it. If you really are that busy or tired, make some toast or cereal.
I love you.
- KH.
His lover was always thorough. With a sigh, Nowaki wondered where he last saw the toaster because he was just not in the mood for Corn Flakes right now.
Nowaki stepped back and appraised the wall, nodding with a satisfied expression.
His bedroom wall was now speckled with Post-it notes. Twenty-seven notes for twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven heartfelt (well, heartfelt considering it was Hiro-san who wrote this) messages from his favorite person in the whole wide world. Twenty-seven "I love you"'s at the end of each message.
The pure Hiroki-ness of each note made it feel as though he had never left. The tough-love, no-nonsense tone in the messages were intertwined with begrudging concern. In some ways, the notes were better to have around, because Nowaki could never see Hiro-san giving him so many "I love you"s in such a span of time. While Nowaki knew that the professor loved him, it was some times easy to forget that when Hiro-san was being particularly cross. Now, not only did he had proof of his Hiro-san's love, but he had a physical manifestation of it that he could keep forever and ever.
And he would. Keep them, that is. This was the best gift he could have ever received from anyone and he would treasure these notes until the day he died.
Nowaki supposed that meant he had to hide them from Hiro-san. There was not a doubt in his mind that if the older man saw this wall of Post-its, he would tear it apart, burn the remains, then kill Nowaki, then kill himself out of pure embarrassment. No, no, Nowaki would not risk that. He was going to make sure Hiro-san never got the opportunity to destroy these notes.
A hand traced over the inked words tenderly.
Nowaki couldn't stop the grin that was taking over his face, but even if he could, he wouldn't. He had no doubt he looked the part of a lovestruck, sappy idiot right now (probably even more than Hiro-san usually said so), but who cared? Certainly not him. Let the world know that he was a happy, well-loved man. A man lucky enough to be loved by the amazing Kamijou Hiroki.
In just three days, the pair of lovers would be reunited. Nowaki marveled at both the length and the shortness of those three days. These notes had managed to tide him over for the past few weeks, Nowaki supposed he could last another three days.
He couldn't wait until Hiro-san finally came home.
Hiroki emerged from his plane with a scowl on his face so deep and scathing, it would put all his previous scowls in shame.
His month away, while being a valuable and enlightening learning experience, was awful. He roomed with Miyagi in one of the university dorms for the entirety of the trip. Miyagi, for all his easy-going nature, was a surprisingly difficult man to live with. He smoked, he snored, his feet smelled like rotting garbage. And being in a dorm surrounded by other students just reminded Hiroki of his own college days when he was surrounded by morons with too much hormones and too little brain cells. For an institution that used to be a monastery, they were surprisingly lax with their students.
Also, it was embarrassingly difficult to go on without Nowaki for a whole month. Hiroki would catch himself thinking about the big goof at all times of the day, sighing wistfully like some lovesick sap. Then he would be embarrassed and angry with himself for acting like such. He would huff and tell himself that it was ridiculous how he was acting, that it was just one month and how hard could it be, and to stop being so maudlin. Then he would angrily storm off to his room once he was sure that Miyagi wasn't in there, dig through his luggage for those letters, and quickly inhale the words as if they were oxygen to a drowning man.
Hiroki didn't know how he could have possibly made it through the month without those letters. It was pathetic, really, and knowing that just made it all the worse.
His plane ride home? Also awful. He was trapped between a snoring Miyagi and a sweaty fat man who almost looked pregnant for the whole ride. The flight attendants ignored his every request for a drink of water or tea or vodka. (Hiroki wasn't one to drown his sorrows in liquor, but really, in his situation, could he be blamed?) The thought that he was only hours away from landing and being back home with Nowaki should have soothed him but, if anything, it only made him all the more impatient to be back in Tokyo.
Ah, yes. And of course, there was a crying baby. Murphy's Law dictated that there was always a crying baby on a plane. How Miyagi was able to sleep through that racket (and use his shoulder as a pillow, no less) was a complete mystery and something Hiroki was very enviable of.
Hiroki exhaled through grit teeth and hurriedly pulled his carry-on duffel bag over his shoulder, desperate to be home already. He had high-tailed it out of there the moment the plane had touched the pavement and was the first one out of the plane. Hiroki hadn't even bothered to wake Miyagi and say goodbye. He just stuck a note to his head that said "See you at work tomorrow" and that was enough.
The professor took brisk steps out of the terminal and wondered if he should call for a cab, when he stopped in his tracks. Standing just a few yards away from him, was a familiar, tall, dark haired man holding a bouquet of white roses and wearing the happiest grin.
"Welcome home, Hiro-san."
Hiroki frowned. One side of him wanted to rip Nowaki a new one for the roses, because he was no woman and he refused to be treated like one. But the other side just missed Nowaki so much that it took over, and sent Hiroki jumping into Nowaki's arms.
He hid his embarrassed blush in Nowaki's chest, still shocked that he - Kamijou Hiroki - had just basically glomped the man, but he hugged the man tightly nonetheless. "I'm home."
Nowaki smiled. He hadn't expected such an enthusiastic greeting from the normally composed man, but hey, he was not complaining. He was just grateful that Hiro-san was back in his arms, where he belonged. His voice, his touch, his smell - it was all the same. Nowaki tightened his hold on the man.
"Hey, Hiro-san?" He spoke quietly in the man's ear, as the brunet's face was still buried in his chest.
He received a grunt in response.
Nowaki leaned in and whispered, "Guess what? I love you too."
The other man didn't respond, but Nowaki could see the tips of his ears turn red.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hur hur, the cheesiness, oh my. Sorry if you feel cheated by the total omission of a sex scene. I don't write sex scenes well... I get shy. *blushes* But I bet some of you thought Hiroki was going to do something naughty while Nowaki was sleeping. Haha. Pervs. And I honestly was not aware of the movie "P.S. I Love You" before I came up with this idea, but I watched it later. Though I see a lot of similarities between the two, I did try to make this story different, especially by writing from Nowaki's POV. I enjoy scenes from Nowaki's point of view, because I can make him so much more goofy and horny than he really is.
