He's Taken

Summary:

Hiroki makes it clear that his Nowaki is off market.

"Doing the scoring, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked. He put down his bags on a table near Hiroki, but not in the same table with his older lover since it's already occupied with books and papers.

"Yeah," Hiroki briefly answered. He lifted his eyes. "Have you taken your dinner? There's still left over. I'll take it for you."

Nowaki took a seat at the end of the couch. "I'm not hungry. Guess I'll go to sleep. Tomorrow I have a morning shift."

Hiroki could clearly see the fatigue on the younger man. The idea of fondling his black hair lovingly and uttering some words to lighten up his low spirit seemed appealing, yet Hiroki knew better than to indulge his very wish. He still freshly remembered when he had done that, Nowaki instantly jumped on him (1). And he still had his students' paper to score. Definitely he won't play with fire tonight. So, he averted his gaze to Nowaki's bag.

"What's that?"

The taller man followed the eyes. "Oh, that...I just brought it from the hospital." He reached out to retrieve the bag and gave it to Hiroki.

Curiously Hiroki took out its contents. There were a folder, crayons, pencil colors and oil pastels. He flipped open the folder. Inside were drawings and handwritings.

"Some time ago I gave my patients papers, just to kill the time during the torrent rain. I asked them to draw or write every thing in their minds."

"I see."

Nowaki yawned widely. His eyes were drowsy. "I'll go to bed. Are you coming?"

"Later, Nowaki. Have a tight sleep."

"Don't exert yourself too much, Hiro-san. You'll get sick easily in unfriendly season like today."

"I'm capable of taking care of myself, Brat. I don't need you to remind me that. I can tell when my need calls."

"Okay," Nowaki got up and sauntered towards their room.

Once he disappeared, Hiroki shook his head. Really, it should be the doctor who minded his health.

His eyes darted back to the folder in his hands. The drawings varied: under the names there were pictures of houses, gardens, flowers, even funny twigs which had buds with dots inside. The assistant-professor highly suspected that they were the portraits of the kids' families.

The writings were clumsy, but even he could sense the spirits those little creatures had put in the writing. On one page, it's a boy wrote:

/I'm happy when my parents give me money. I'm sad when I lost my money/

Hiroki nearly chuckled. How innocent.

/I'm happy when I meet my friends. I'm sad when my parents are mad at me./

/My father hasn't much money. That's why he has a few possessions./

/When I get bigger, I want to be a doctor like you./

/Watchan, will I be as tall as you?/

Some of the writings were adorned with pictures and frames. They were neat and beautiful, so Hiroki guessed it's Nowaki who had drawn them. Unfortunately it's only halfway. The rest wasn't done yet.

The man couldn't help but feel proud of the doctor. He had seen how his young patients cling to him fondly, and even tested the idea of creating a human tree with him.

Hiroki kept reading. His paper was soon forgotten. Children's thoughts were really fascinating, he inwardly mused. On the last page, there was a girl wrote in Latin. Judging by the writing and the name, it seemed that she was a foreigner. That's not what made him frown though.

/Dr. Nowaki, my dream is becoming your bride. You're veeery handsome, hihi/

It's incredulous that he felt jealous. Hmph, Hiroki snorted. He's already mine, kid. He took a marker and scribed on the paper.

He was about to put down the folder when Nowaki's face crossed his minds. After let out a big sigh, he took a ruler and pencil colors. He kept working until it was past midnight.

Xxx

Nowaki walked groggily to the coffee table. His black hair was tousled and messy. In fact, even his vision was still hazy. As expected, his lover had already gone to work. Thankfully, last night-right after his black head hit the pillow- his senpai had sent him a message, saying his shift was canceled. So, today he was off.

He strolled back to the living room. The table was clean from any paper that had scattered the night before. Instead, his bag was on it. Absentmindedly he took out his folder. Since he had nothing to do, he wanted to finish his project.

It had rained in torrent the day before. Some of the patients were crying, either were afraid of thunder or simply wanted their parents at that precise moment. To get their attention, Nowaki gave paper to them, to draw or write everything they wanted to say. It had succeeded, they stopped crying and even their friends joined.

While waiting for the next shift, he decorated some of the writings. Although, it was a shame he hadn't read them all.

And now, surprise was the most appropriate word to describe his state of hazy minds. There were already frames and pictures in all paper. The lines were firm and artistic, and he knew only one person was capable of doing it.

Nowaki examined them until he reached the last page. His patient from England wrote on it. He smiled a little reading the girl's wish. But his smile grew brighter and wider -practically he grinned ear to ear- when he read Hiroki's writing. It was only three words, yet the words alone could make him thrill to bit.

'Sorry, he's taken.'

I forgot in what episode it occurs. It's the part where Nowaki is pissed off because some people address Hiroki by his name but he himself, as a lover, addresses him 'Hiro-san'. Hiroki ruffles his hair, asking what bothers him. Instead of answering the question, Nowaki jumps on him.