A/N- My first posted Romantica fic! It's not the first one I've written, but the others...need some work. Heh. Anyway, I wrote this because I dissatisfied with the ending of the anime- please God, let there be a third season- and always thought upon watching the last episode that Misaki should have some kind of reaction to Akihiko almost getting RUNOVER BY A FRICKIN' BUS, so...yeah. That's where this came from. XD Hope you like it! -OA
Aftereffects
By ObssessedAuthoress
Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica: manga, anime, characters... -sob- I can only dream the eternal dream of a fangirl...
Usami Fuyuhiko waved and bid them farewell, climbing into his signature black car and disappearing down the street. The couple watched him go with curiously blank faces, each thinking hidden thoughts. It was safe to say that both were feeling some level of relief, however.
After a long moment of silence, Akihiko turned and started back toward their penthouse, giving a casual reason for the return: "I want your stew." Misaki did not have a good retort for this and therefore followed the older man silently up the sidewalk.
Akihiko was still musing over the possibility that his father was finally going to leave them alone when he noticed the change. His ears, always trained toward his lover, picked up on the sound of the teen's breathing, harsh and uneven, as they approached the main entrance. A spike of concern drilled into him, but he remained silent for the moment, waiting to see if there was a definable cause for Misaki's breathless state.
They entered the apartment building and Akihiko stopped in front of the elevator, turning toward his lover. "What's wrong?" he demanded, leaning in close to the younger man. Misaki blushed and paled alternately, one hand clutched absently at the front of his shirt. Akihiko did not like that particular gesture; it worried him.
"N-nothing," the university student stammered, stepping ahead of the novelist into the empty elevator. Akihiko scowled and followed him inside, leaning against the back wall as the doors closed behind them and the elevator started to rise beneath their feet. Misaki was panting softly now, holding his chest tightly. Akihiko muttered a curse and took the teenager's face in his hands, drawing him close.
"Misaki, tell me what's wrong," he urged the small brunet. "I don't like it when you're hurting and you won't tell me why. Can't you see that it hurts me as well?"
Misaki's breath puffed warm in his face, shallow gasps. "I- I'm not- I can't-" He exhaled sharply and dropped forward into the writer's arms. Akihiko lowered them both to the floor of the elevator, a litany of profanities running through his mind.
Something is wrong with Misaki, something is wrong with Misaki, something is-
"Misaki, just relax and take a deep breath," the older man instructed. Misaki's head rested against his chest; Akihiko wrapped his long arms around the teen's shuddering form. "Breathe, alright?"
"Y-you almost- you almost died," the nineteen-year-old managed, sagging against his lover's strong frame. "Th-that bus almost crushed you…"
"I'm alright," Akihiko said gently, rubbing soothing circles against the boy's back. "You saved me, remember?"
"B-but- but what if I hadn't been quick enough?" the brunet queried, raising a tearful gaze. Akihiko was slightly taken aback; it wasn't like Misaki to cry in front of him like this, especially when they weren't about to have-
Well…never mind.
"There's no point in worrying about what might have happened," the older man said firmly, brushing traitorous saline from the teenager's cheeks. He didn't like seeing Misaki cry like this, not when sadness or fear was the underlying emotion, instead of…pleasure…or something else equally satisfying. "The point is that we're both alright, and finally…" He let it trail off until Misaki glanced up, curious in spite of himself.
"And finally what?" the younger man asked, at last catching his breath.
"And finally we won't have anymore interruptions," Akihiko finished smugly, standing up and swinging Misaki into his arms bridal-style. The brunet yelped and started struggling predictably, thrashing all available limbs to free himself from his lover's tight grasp.
"Wait- Usagi-san- stop! Put me down! What about the stew?" the teenager demanded as Akihiko carried him out of the elevator, down the hall, and into their penthouse. The famous author didn't stop there, though. He flung his coat on the sofa with one arm and carried Misaki right on up the stairs toward their bedroom.
"Oh, I'm sure it can stand to simmer for a little while longer," he said with a meaningful gleam in his eye. Misaki swallowed hard.
"Um…no- wait, let me down! I have to take it off the stove if we're going to-" The student choked, blushing vividly. "-It'll burn!" he managed through his embarrassment. Akihiko put him down on his feet outside the bedroom door and pressed the teenager against the wall, one knee drawn up between the boy's legs. Misaki moaned softly, twisting his head away. The adorable blush deepened to scarlet.
"Then I guess we'll have to see how fast we can finish our…business," Akihiko breathed in the teen's ear. Not waiting for his innuendo to fully register, he picked Misaki up again and carried him into the bedroom to be ravished thoroughly.
After all, he was grateful to have had his life saved that day.
And he was confident that the stew could wait.
"I love you, Misaki."
"…Baka Usagi-san…"