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.

*This story contains references to Egoist Act 11 & Egoist Special DVD-Manga Chapter (The recent OVA is based on this).

My first Egoist Fic of 2013! This one is angsty. I have another big one-shot coming up! (can't say when it will be posted) I hope you guys enjoy this one.

I used a couple Japanese terms, so I've italicized them and provided the definitions at the bottom for people who aren't familiar with the words and are curious.

Precious Life, Precious Care

Nowaki curled his fingers to keep his hands from trembling in his coat pockets. He gritted his teeth, and tightened his lips, to stop his mouth from quivering. It was a warm spring night but a heavy coldness drenched him. Each step he took away from the hospital fueled him with guilt. He wanted to return and finish his shift for the night. He wanted to be available in case another emergency came up. But he knew, after the way he'd handled things, he was not fit to continue. His skin chilled and tingled as the stark reality sobered him. Before he'd started his studies in medicine, he knew that human lives were delicate. A physician carried the life of his patients. One mistake, one miscalculation, could turn fatal; whether it was a prescription, or a surgical procedure. He knew of too many events, and heard horrifying stories of a doctor's influence doing more harm than good. One misstep could cost a precious life—the fact was engraved in his brain. Still, simply knowing was different from experiencing.

Until today, the fragile state of life, of existence, had not completely taken residence in him. Now, he was fully consumed by the temporary. The comfortable weather he walked through would swerve into an uncomfortable heat within the next few months. Each gentle breeze that twirled, whisking weak dust and blossom scents past his face was unique, never to be experienced in the same way again. The noise of conversations mingling in the air, spoken by the anonymous, would sound different tomorrow. Even the glorious lights that brightened the roads and sidewalks would dim at some point before revealing the darkness in its absence.

He looked on drearily as he approached the door of his home. His fingers felt around in the side compartment of his bag for the key before checking the time on his watch. It was barely eight in the evening, meaning his partner would likely be home. He unlocked the door, his hand hesitating over the knob before gripping and turning it. He sluggishly pushed the door forward, finding the place unlit. As he entered the genkan he noticed that Hiroki's leather shoes, the ones he wore to work, weren't there. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, back leaned against the door, as his senses absorbed the familiarity of the place; a mixture of disappointment and relief contained in his sigh. He wanted to see Hiroki; the face of the older man always brought him to ease, no matter how rough things were. But right now, he was too conflicted, suffocating on uncertainty, and warped by so many other negative feelings. It was better if Hiroki couldn't see him like this.

Nowaki removed his shoes and properly stepped into the condo, dropping his bag near the entrance and flicking on the light. He walked into the dining area and sat at the small table for two. It wasn't fair to impose his pain onto others. He'd rather come to grips with everything that happened on his own instead of clinging for comfort, even if it was to the person dearest to him. He wanted to believe he was strong enough for that. He propped his elbows on the table and webbed his fingers, arching forward to rest his head against his hands. His sight fell in and out; he knew he was tired and needed to rest, but the sights, sounds, and feelings from earlier that evening festered freshly inside him. It was pure nightmare material; he couldn't rest, much less sleep. He laid a forearm on the table, meeting his forehead and palm. If he had the chance to fade from it all, he would. He groaned and frowned at his temptation. To run away would be irresponsible, and selfish! He didn't want to be that kind of person, but the idea of escape was appealing; the more unsightly part of himself was willing to admit that much.

"Nowaki," a familiar voice resonated, mid-ranged and casual.

He twitched in surprise at the sound of his lover addressing him. He'd been so caught in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the door open. Nowaki was reluctant to face the other man, not wanting Hiroki to witness his somber expressions, but turned slightly in his chair and peaked to the side. "Welcome home," Nowaki greeted, curving his lips. He tried to avoid creating a distant atmosphere but knew that was inevitable if he planned to follow through with his recent resolve.

"Yeah…I'm home," the older man replied, baffled by Nowaki's reaction.

Hiroki immediately detected something was amiss. They hadn't seen each other in nearly over a week, and yet, there was no excitement exuding from his partner: no "Hiro-san," no joyful expression, not even a single casual question of how his day had been. Hiroki walked to the kitchen counter to set down the shopping bag he'd carried from the convenience store, keeping his eyes on the younger man. Nowaki gazed upon the surface of the table with, his head downcast. Hiroki took notice of Nowaki's winter-like attire: a semi-heavy coat and a long scarf covering his neck and falling over his shoulders. Hiroki had to wonder why Nowaki was so bundled. It was out of place.

"What's wrong?" Hiroki asked directly, breaking the silence that had developed.

"It's nothing," the words slipped from Nowaki's mouth unthinkingly, as if he'd had the response scripted and ready in his mind. It came as a shock to himself, and he knew Hiroki wouldn't be happy about it either. Even if Nowaki didn't want to reveal his troubles to Hiroki at the moment, there was no reason to lie to him. "I'm sorry Hiro-san," Nowaki stood from his seat, "I'm going to step out for a few minutes. I think I'll be okay, I just need some fresh air." He started walking towards the door, never once looking at Hiroki, as he tried to make his shameful exit.

Hiroki paced forward, almost stumbling as he grabbed Nowaki by the arm before he'd gotten anywhere near the door. "Wait! You think you'll be okay?" If Nowaki didn't want to tell him what was wrong that was fine but he couldn't take the lie, even if it was just a small one.

Nowaki nearly jumped, startled to find his partner beside him with an irritated face, squinted eyes and furrowed brows. A bead of sweat slid down the side of Nowaki's face.

"You walked home, didn't you? Haven't you had enough fresh air?" Hiroki questioned rather scoldingly.

He was concerned over his lover's blue mood, but he was equally annoyed at Nowaki's attempt to veil his emotions. For all the years they'd been together, Nowaki still tried to hide things from him. Sure, there were things Hiroki kept from Nowaki, not every little thing needed to be discussed, but when it was something so blatantly heavy and important, he wished Nowaki would let him in more without restraint.

A wave of muteness lingered over them. Nowaki observed Hiroki; the man stood with his arms crossed, eyes peaking at him, almost timidly from the side. For a split second, Nowaki couldn't help the slight curve of his lips. The display of Hiroki's concern dampened the pain he was experiencing; it was faint, but the effect was amazing.

Hiroki grumbled and reached up towards the younger man's face, "Don't give me that fake smile!" he declared, pinching and pulling at Nowaki's cheek, disabling his protest.

"Ow! Hiwo-saaa-" Nowaki reacted, trying to tug Hiroki's digits away. Though the smile he showed wasn't fake, he should have known he had the assault coming after he feigned it the first time. His moping from earlier had, for the moment, completely vanished as his partner's brutal touch served as an awakening.

Hiroki released, sighing and turning to walk towards the living room. He took a breath to calm himself. He was averse to prying, and all the more, that he felt he was prying; but he wanted to come off gentle enough for Nowaki to feel comfortable to confide in him. Seeing his bright and good-natured partner reduced to a downcast mien and not knowing the cause was really frustrating.

"Nowaki, you don't have to tell me right now. But...I'd like to know about it sometime." Hiroki said softly as he unbuttoned his jacket and threw it over the back of the couch before loosening his tie.

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki started but couldn't bring forth any more words. Keeping his troubles from Hiroki would only cause the older man to worry further, but Nowaki wasn't sure if he could handle talking about the situation without breaking down. With the mere prospect of discussing it, Nowaki could feel his anxiety rebuilding brick by brick.

"I know it was my turn to cook, but I didn't expect you'd be back, so..." Hiroki stated in hope that everyday concerns and conversation would make Nowaki feel comfortable.

"It's all right, I don't have much of an appetite…" Nowaki said, sitting back down at the table. "I wasn't scheduled to return tonight, but I was let off early," the last words clenched with his teeth. Normally news like this would be something to rejoice, but tonight all it did was tear him apart. He'd barely spoken of the details, and he was already faltering. He stared back at the table top and brought a hand to his face, ashamed that he couldn't even look Hiroki in the eye, and that he'd allowed his weakness to the forefront, again.

"Would you like something warm to drink? Tea? Coffee?" Hiroki offered rather nervously as he walked back towards the kitchen and rummaged through the bag of goods he'd bought from the store.

"I'm not thirsty. Thank you," Nowaki responded, closing his eyes for a bit before opening them again.

Hiroki pushed the other chair near Nowaki before sitting there beside him. He brought a hand to Nowaki's shoulder and placed a cold bottle of water, that he'd taken from the bag, on the table. "Drink some water, at least. You look terrible."

The small touch coaxed Nowaki to gradually unfold from his hiding place. The younger man's yearning for Hiroki burned even more, scorching him until he was too feeble to wrestle it. Nowaki focused on the cold bottle in front of him and captured his partner's fingers before they left the cap. Hiroki's flesh had chilled from holding the bottle; the mist rising from the plastic object brushed beneath Nowaki's palm. He lifted Hiroki's hand and held on tighter to the slender digits encased in his palm, tamed by the strong desire to warm them. His inner pangs were about to overflow.

"Hiro-san..." Nowaki uttered, set on replying to Hiroki's important statement from earlier. "It isn't that I don't want to tell you, but it's work related," He squeezed Hiroki's hand tighter, "and I don't want to bother you with it if it's not necessary."

Nowaki could smile genuinely and fight calmly through the toughest of circumstances. So moments like this, where Nowaki was rattled and dispirited, scared Hiroki the most. "Work related or not, it's affected you and you've brought it into our home. So, it is necessary."

"It's...difficult to talk about, but I'll say this," Nowaki started carefully; a hard discomfort swirling in his chest, "I've discovered that I still have a long way to go. Longer than I thought." Nowaki's jaw quivered; he gritted in brace of his aggravation. It was starting, every word that escaped him brought the scene into reality. Nowaki hit his palm to the table, disgusted by his own fragility.

"Don't force yourself." Hiroki suggested as their joined hands released. Nowaki's face was near desolate; Hiroki saw the spirit he loved so much struggling to break through.

Nowaki reached across and gripped the older man's arm. Hiroki's warmth and his presence strung the ache from within him, "I'm sorry," Nowaki whispered, turning fully to his lover and holding the smaller man by the shoulders. "I-" he whispered again, quieter, shakily and distraught. Nowaki gazed into Hiroki's cinnamon brown orbs, for the first time in days, before the heat of his own eyes weighed them to a close. Nowaki left the chair as his knees met the floor; his head resting against his partner's chest.

"Nowaki!" Hiroki exclaimed, alarmed by the sudden motion. He initially thought Nowaki had fainted before he felt the younger man's arms secure around his back, causing Hiroki to lean slightly forward, away from the wall of the chair. Nowaki's hands shivered, tugging tenderly at Hiroki's shirt. Hiroki swept a hand over Nowaki's shoulder and across his back, whatever he could do to calm his partner.

Nowaki's short puffs passed through Hiroki's blouse. He enclosed his arms tighter around Hiroki's body with each passing second as the franticness of the day seeped through his heart again. With Hiroki, he was surrounded by life; the rise and fall of a chest, hosting a beating heart. Nowaki sank into every bit of it as images from the emergency room permeated powerfully in his mind. A young child on the bed; a small face Nowaki recalled from previous check ups, hazel eyes and black hair. A face that usually sparkled with eagerness, like so many other kids he'd seen.

The boy's discarded sky-blue shirt was soaked red; eyes narrowed as his chest and stomach moved up and down in the most minimal of motion with his shallow breath. He'd lost a significant amount of blood due to a car accident, and was already fading. Nowaki applied pressure over an open wound across the boy's chest, paying special care to find the right balance of pressure. Another assistant sat by, observing the boy during his blood transfusion. The child winced from the pain in his chest, gasping occasionally throughout the process. Nowaki tried to comfort the child, anything to keep the little light glowing. The boy raised a hand and gripped Nowaki's glove, giving the bravest smile he'd ever seen, shining widely under the clear mask of the ventilator.

Minutes passed, the boy's temperature started rising and his breathing became worse. The little hand clutched tighter to Nowaki's glove—heavy thumps burdening the child's delicate chest—as the hills of his heart rate rose on the monitor. The child was going into cardiac arrest. Nowaki's fellow assistant, from the other side of the bed, quickly prepared the defibrillator. Nowaki's hands trembled as he lifted the pressure from the child's chest; blood had completely drenched the thick cloth. Nowaki lifted the boy's fingers from his glove when the tiny hand wrapped around the ends of his fingers. The first "clear" echoed; the boy was pressed with electrodes to regulate his pulse, and for a moment it seemed to have worked. There was hope that the procedure would be successful despite the scarcity of the boy's movement; but no sooner, everything came to a sore end.

The mini-bout of energy the child had for a moment depleted with the fall of his features. The boy's fingers slipped; his hand crashed onto the bed. The lifeline collapsed and the stinging noise from the sensor shot through the room. Every effort was given to revive him, but nothing availed. To think something so vast and precious could be ripped away so quickly without cause, without meaning. It didn't make sense. The treasured innocence called joyfully in Nowaki's ear. He thought of all the children he'd treated, and remembered his younger brothers and sisters from the orphanage; young souls harboring hopes and dreams, and excitement for the simplest things in the world. Those voices of enthusiasm were fading steadily in an aching fashion.

Nowaki felt the boy's wrist and neck for a pulse but there was no sign of life. Livid, slow-burning; the colors of every person and every object, blurred into one another. The place became indistinctive and surreal. A density hovered over Nowaki as he stared upon the cold body. He'd worked in the ER plenty during his internship. Every second counted. Even an assistant's position held an enormous amount of gravity. He wasn't ignorant, but in his experience, when a patient's condition took a turn for the worse, the sufficient treatment was always available, the appropriate procedure was always performed, and the patient always survived. He often thought about the inevitable possibility that one of his patients would die. He knew he'd have to face it at some point in his career, but nothing could have prepared him for the sorrow. Nowaki had never witnessed the death of a child. It may have been reality for a few minutes. The child was alive now, but he was dead for a period in time. It was still real.

Nowaki clutched the back of Hiroki's blouse as the shock of the event flooded treacherously inside his conscious, and from his mouth. "I-I couldn't do anything. I stood there, unmoving."

Though there was a magnitude of relief after the child's heartbeat resurfaced and the blood transfusion proved successful, Nowaki was left with a realization of himself that he was more than frustrated with. He remembered how everyone was able to continue their duty immediately after the death. The assistant and senpai were nearby to comfort the grieving mother who had lost her only son. Nowaki remembered the disappointment and sadness on their faces—expressions that coincided with his own—and how they were able to work through it. They had words and actions, while Nowaki was speechless and empty.

Nowaki's voice slid thinly over his strained breath. "I should have done my part. I wasn't even the one who had to tell the mother the news, but just the scene of it tore me up inside..." Nowaki grunted, shutting his eyes tightly, smothering himself against Hiroki's clothing to suppress his cry.

Hiroki felt his partner trembling in effort to barricade his emotions. "Don't hold it in," he suggested.

"I knew I'd eventually face something like this, but I didn't think it would hurt this much," Nowaki responded subtly, pressing an ear against the fabric to feel Hiroki's pulse; a reminder of life and how quickly it could be taken away. Desperate for contact, Nowaki unbuttoned Hiroki's shirt, revealing the man's lean chest. He slowly swept his hand across the skin. The heart he felt was hot and rhythmic; Hiroki's flesh and entire body were tangible. There was no coldness. There was no silence. "If I can't even deal with this, how can I ever become a competent doctor?"

"Nowaki-"

"Having empathy is one thing," Nowaki continued, gasping for air in transition; his shoulders growing stiffer. "But patients rely on their doctors," the words wavered from him as his eyes grew misty. "I shouldn't be breaking down this much for a boy I hardly knew, or for his mother, not to the point where it impedes my ability to fulfill my duty to them. I really am weak." Had the child not survived, had that heart remained inactive, Nowaki didn't know what he'd do or how much longer he'd be able to go on.

Hiroki laid his chin upon Nowaki's head as the younger man's tears finally emerged, dripping and streaming down his bare chest. Hiroki could hardly imagine the pain his partner was going through. As a doctor, Nowaki would have to experience and deal with things Hiroki would never have to, and probably would never have the capacity to. He pressed Nowaki closer to him, wanting desperately to assuage his partner's hardship. Everyday, their careers brought them into two different worlds. There was little, Hiroki felt, that a professor's wisdom could provide in a situation like this. Hiroki could only comment on what he saw. Hiroki knew Nowaki in all of his beautiful, heartwarming, and caring nature, a person who constantly went out of his way for the benefit of others.

"Nowaki, you understand more than anyone I know, that being a doctor isn't just about bringing people to health, physically. You also have to make them feel healthy, emotionally."

Nowaki's lips parted, he wanted to respond but knew anything he could muster would release through inaudible hiccups. Now that he'd revealed everything, he had nothing more to say. He sunk lower to the floor to relieve his knees of the pressure, and placed his head upon Hiroki's lap. The simple sound of his mid-toned voice cradled Nowaki. He was weary of thought and allowed himself to be an open vessel for his partner's words. The feel of Hiroki's fingers massaging the side of his forehead beneath his bangs and the complete warmth of Hiroki's hold were finally melting through Nowaki's numbness.

"I know how much you care about your patients. You're always finding ways to cheer them up, and giving them reasons to look forward to the next day." Hiroki rubbed Nowaki's shoulders as he remembered one rainy evening, he returned home from work and found Nowaki making teru teru bozu dolls for the kids at the children's ward of the hospital. The children had a field trip coming up, and even though Nowaki wasn't part of the event he'd devoted his free time, tying those strings snugly over the tissues to keep the cotton balls in place. He'd created those tiny symbols, giving the kids hope and anticipation for sunny weather. The trip they took to Osaka on the night train was the first time they'd traveled together, and it was a result of Nowaki doing a favor for his sick patient. Hiroki even recalled the annoying clicks and flashes of the camera Nowaki had used to take pictures with. Nowaki's care branched far beyond the workplace, and far beyond the home which they had built together. For everything Nowaki criticized himself for, Hiroki figured that even though Nowaki was hurt, he'd never once thought about becoming less involved with his patients.

"I've witnessed the joy you bring to others and I'm confident that the efforts you've put in have all led to smiles. You invest so much thought and care to your patients. It's only natural that you'd be hurt after loosing them. But if that child was smiling before he passed—I'm willing to bet, more than anything—it was because of you."

Nowaki's head shot up at Hiroki's encouragement, a fluttering hopefulness spread through him. He trusted Hiroki more than anyone, but he wondered if it was okay to take privilege in Hiroki's words. The haze thinned, giving him a clear view of Hiroki's face. He lingered on the tenderness of the cinnamon brown eyes that examined him. The touch of Hiroki's comforting caresses were gently hypnotizing, nearly lulling. Nowaki's lips curved as a sitting tear fell from the corner of his eye, shedding the last of his strong anxiety.

Hiroki looked on in relief as Nowaki's glistening blue eyes widened and a hint of gladness swept his lips; the spirit Hiroki loved so much had risen. "I think you're doing a miraculous job, just keep at it full force. And when things become too rough, if you ever feel like you're going to break again, remember you have me."

"Hiro-san"

"You got that?" Hiroki held the sides of Nowaki's face, eliciting a surprised expression. The older man looked away, suddenly growing bashful at their direct eye contact. "I want you to rely on me more for emotional support."

"I-" Nowaki started.

Hiroki cut in, giving his lover a knock on the head. He immediately realized that he'd jumped the gun with his action, but had to let out his coiling thoughts from earlier. "Get it into your head! I don't like prying! It'd be better for you and for me if you'd just..." Hiroki leaned back in the chair, propping an elbow on the table and covering his mouth. He vaguely remembered having a similar conversation with Nowaki about this issue months before. Nonetheless, he'd sidetracked the current situation and made it about their relationship instead of Nowaki's experience. Though the two subjects were connected in someway, it felt like a petty thing to exaggerate at a time like this but it had to be addressed at some point.

Nowaki rubbed the top of his head at the tingling sensation left by Hiroki's hit, and smiled at the older man's persistence. All the things he'd fretted about earlier, of causing Hiroki more stress and of weighing him down, had dissipated for the time being.

"I'm sorry Hiro-san. I understand. I promise I'll be better about it." Nowaki brought Hiroki forward into an embrace.

Nowaki's lips pressed upon Hiroki's chest, a kiss over the heart he fervidly cherished. He felt foolish for thinking he could withhold his grief and manage it on his own, without his partner. "Thank you for being with me." Nowaki's breath patted Hiroki's flesh.

Hiroki was in front of Nowaki, pulling him out of the murky water. If the most important person in his life could accept him the way he currently was, then why couldn't he be happy with his current self and the progress he was bound to make? Nowaki couldn't possibly be a good partner for Hiroki if he kept shutting the man out from his problems. Nowaki let Hiroki's powerful pulse massage his ear and immersed in the mesmerizing drum song.

"Really...Thank you," Nowaki uttered as their fingers brushed between each other. They were in the perfect state to drift off together in their own world.

Nowaki felt a faint movement against his hips, his cellphone was vibrating. Hoping it was a text message, he continued to nestle his head to Hiroki's chest. The phone vibrated again and repeated thereafter.

"Are you going to do something about that?" Hiroki asked, slightly put-off by the noise.

Nowaki shuffled as the phone continued to ring. He sat onto the floor and dug into his pocket to retrieve the device. There was only one place he would get a call from at this time at night. He fidgeted when he read Tsumori's name on the caller ID and answered promptly. "Senpai," Nowaki made an effort to keep his voice firm.

"Hey, I thought you'd want to know how the kid is doing," Tsumori's voice came in from the other side.

"H-How is he?" Nowaki nearly slipped on his words. The last he saw, the boy's pulse had regulated but he was rendered unconscious.

"He's fine and sound asleep. It took a while for his body to adapt to the blood. He should be up and walking in a few days, a week at most. The wound on his chest will take longer to heal of course."

Nowaki sighed in relief after hearing the news. After a pause and no response Tsumori continued. "So, how are you feeling?"

" Senpai, about earlier...I messed up didn't I?"

"It's not that you messed up. I didn't want you to continue work because I knew you wouldn't be able to focus properly, and it would be a lot harder for you to cope with your grief if you stayed here. Dealing with the death of a patient, especially for the first time, is very difficult, so I understand why you reacted the way you did. I've been there..."

The room was quiet enough, Hiroki could hear every word of their conversation. Everything that happened was still fresh in Nowaki's mind, it made sense for Nowaki to remain uncertain, even if Hiroki comforted him. But Hiroki wished he'd had a bigger impact on Nowaki, even in the short amount of time they'd just had.

"I understand. Thank you. I'll be fine, especially since..." Nowaki's usual gentleness rang through as he smiled like all of his problems had been eradicated.

Hiroki was glad to see Nowaki at a deeper sense of ease, but it was too much to watch, because it clearly wasn't from his doing alone. Nowaki was feeling better, that's what mattered. Hiroki buttoned up his shirt, save for the one near the collar, and prepared to stand from his seat, figuring he'd leave the two to their conversation. His action was interrupted as his hand was grabbed. Hiroki looked down, and immediately grew flustered as Nowaki's rejuvenated smile and brightened eyes stared into him.

Nowaki closed his cell phone as he kneeled and reached to set it on the table. The younger man hugged his partner around the torso and leaned his weight forward, causing Hiroki to settle back into the chair. Nowaki's shoulders and chest hurt, and his head was aching, but he harbored the strain, focusing on the man in front of him. He extended an arm, reaching towards Hiroki's face as he inched closer, completely ignoring the irritation.

"Hey! What're you doing?" Hiroki pushed down on Nowaki's shoulders in a suggestion for him to stop.

"I want to kiss you." The edge of Nowaki's fingers traced Hiroki's earlobe causing the older man's face to light up entirely, fever-level heat racing to his head.

"I won't let you!" Hiroki insisted, bringing his hands to the back of Nowaki's head, forcing the younger man to his lap. Nowaki resisted, much to Hiroki's annoyance. "Rest dammit!"

Nowaki couldn't help but chuckle at the return of their, all too familiar, lightweight bickering. "Hiro-san, stop. I want to kiss you first." For the first time in days, Nowaki was enjoying himself.

Hiroki's slender fingers combed through Nowaki's dark locks, he guided his partner's head up to a tilt. The younger man exuded a youthful, stubborn, and tender charm—the one that had drawn Hiroki to him to begin with. Nowaki's eyes were closed, a playful glow displayed on his features as his soft laughter continued. Hiroki eased in and shut his own eyes, knowing the sight of even the smallest reaction from Nowaki would bring his bashful side to a peak. Nowaki opened his eyes in time to find brown strands closing in, followed quickly by the feel of warm-soft lips over his; a soothing and cozy fit. Nowaki was in a short moment of disbelief, but more than happily accepted his lover's gesture of affection. He ran his fingers past the side of Hiroki's face and engaged in the kiss. Hiroki tried to hide his face beneath his bangs as their lips parted. "Go to bed," he scooted back and lifted from his seat.

"I will, Hiro-san..." Nowaki let the name live on his tongue as he grinned, carefully leaving the floor and gaining balance on his feet. He noticed the bottled water Hiroki had given him earlier and claimed it, twisting the cap and taking a drink. He didn't realize how dry his mouth and throat had become until the cold liquid passed through, giving him relief and a brisk awakening. He took a few gulps before capping the plastic.

Hiroki tapped Nowaki's shoulder and began pushing him forward towards the bedroom. "Tomorrow's Saturday. Do you have work?" Hiroki asked both out of curiosity and to fill in the air.

Nowaki peaked over at Hiroki before cooperating with his motions. "No, but I want to visit the hospital for a while." The living room lights were switched off before they stepped into the dark bedroom. The moon and the distant city lights quietly glowed past the curtain, providing a source of visibility.

"Ah..." Hiroki replied. He figured they could spend the day together, but he knew Nowaki would need extra time to recover. Nowaki probably wanted to visit the boy and talk more with Tsumori about what happened today. Tsumori had, and could undoubtably offer Nowaki more on the issue than he'd ever be able to. It was something Hiroki couldn't help.

"Afterwards I'd..." Nowaki started and paused as he noticed Hiroki's lowered shoulders and crestfallen eyes. Hiroki's disappointment was showing through his body.

Hiroki climbed onto the bed, scooting to the side closest to the wall, and laid down with his back facing Nowaki. The younger man gazed at his partner, who's white shirt reflected the slick calm-blueness of the room, wondering if Hiroki was upset because of the call he received from senpai, or maybe because he had acted too childish earlier when he asked for a kiss. As Nowaki dropped his scarf over the nightstand, unzipped and discarded his coat he thought, surely, there had to be a stronger reason for Hiroki's mood. Nowaki knelt onto the bed, reaching for Hiroki's shoulder.

"Afterwards you'd, what..." Hiroki murmured, his face still burning as he felt Nowaki's weight from the other side of mattress.

"...I'd like to spend the entire rest of the day with you tomorrow." Nowaki said huskily, giving a pull to Hiroki's shoulder, laying the smaller man on his back. Hiroki averted his gaze to the side, embarrassed and joyed at Nowaki's statement. Nowaki brushed his fingers over Hiroki's bangs, folding his lover into his arms as he planted a kiss onto the man's forehead.

Nowaki thought of how irritated Hiroki had become at his reluctance to confide in him, and how much his partner had done—through his words, actions, and presence—to make him feel comfortable and warm again. The embrace they shared, laying on his bed was the result of an unspoken offer Hiroki had made to keep him company throughout the night.

"Hiro-san, being with you is my best chance at full recovery," Nowaki whispered, hugging Hiroki closer, his lips touching the arch of his lover's ear.

Hiroki grew entirely flushed as Nowaki's voice danced along his ears. It was as if Nowaki had gotten inside of his mind and vocalized everything he wanted to hear, wiping away the doubts that pinched at him. Hiroki sunk the side of his head into the pillow, snuggling under Nowaki's chin.

"If you don't mind, I'll rely on you more from now on. I hope you don't get too annoyed with me," Nowaki said streaming his fingers through Hiroki's hair.

He had to stop marking his problems, whether it was in work or in their relationship, as burdensome to Hiroki. He had to become more accepting of the vulnerable part of himself. It wasn't weakness. He was just a person. Nowaki smiled and buried his nose into Hiroki's bangs. Tonight, he'd take comfort in Hiroki's words of encouragement, and as the earth's light source graced the city, he'd move forward and turn those words into confidence. Nowaki was stronger and would continue to grow because of Hiroki; it had been that way ever since they met. Hiroki was his courage.

"Nowaki," Hiroki uttered.

"Hmm?"

"Shut up and rest."

Pure-joy filled Nowaki, he kissed Hiroki's forehead one last time before complying with his partner's suggestion. Nowaki let his eyelids fall as the calmness magnified. His heart that had been dragged across the pavement by the days' experience had been nurtured and revitalized. Every bit of chaos in his troubled mind had been alleviated. He strolled slowly into the cradling darkness where he could feel and hear the waves of Hiroki's heart. Nowaki couldn't sleep; he wanted to linger on the details of every touch, scent, and sound. He wanted to revel in the magnificence that transcended the visual and catered to the mind and soul. There was too much to appreciate and adore. The fact that it was all temporary, made it lovely. The boy was recovering and would be well, and so would Nowaki. The beauty of life consumed him. For now, the act of existing—the peaceful rise and fall—was all that needed to be fulfilled. The love in Nowaki's arms was invaluable; a precious life who'd given him precious care to receive and return, wholeheartedly, as long as they breathed.

End

Japanese terminology, Wikipedia rip!

Genkan are traditional Japanese entryway areas for a house, apartment, or building—something of a combination of a porch and a doormat. The primary function of genkan is for the removal of shoes before entering the main part of the house or building

Teru teru bozu is a little traditional handmade doll made of white paper or cloth. Today, children make teru-teru-bōzu out of tissue paper or cotton and string and hang them from a window when they wish for sunny weather, often before a school picnic day. They are a very common sight in Japan.

Special Thanks to darkmoondagger for looking over this story and really helping me out! :D

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