Title: Somewhere In The Middle

Author: Darkestforever

Couple: Junjou Terrorist/ Junjou Egoist

Disclaimer: All characters featured in this story are the creative property of the managaka who loving drew the Junjou universe. I would like to thank the amazing Musicians of the world who created the inspirational music that spurred me on to write these emotional chapters.

Author's Note: I would like to thank all my readers who are enjoying my stories. For reading 'Somewhere in the Middle', I would like to say thank you to: snowsparklegems, Zurensy, Danhk, Reficular, Maggie Mae, Junjou Vampire, AsumaKun, Annadiel, Kate1234567lol and of course X!

I hope this chapter intrigues you to reader further. I apologise for another filler chapter but the impending chapters need a sturdy foundation for the weigh of the drama to come.

Part Four: Us Against The World (Secret Garden)

Only when we give joyfully, without hesitation or the thought of gain,

Can we truly know what love means.

~ Leo Buscaglia~

"I want you to take responsibility" were the founding words of their relationship.

Tapping along to the radio, as they sat in traffic, Miyagi found himself reflecting on their fledging days.

Eight years ago, he foolishly attempted to dissuade himself of loving the younger man. Quoting endless excuses as a shield to protect his defective heart. He was a high school student, a man, his ex-wife's brother and his employer's only, beloved son; yet all these warnings fell by the wayside, as his heart stirred. While lost in a lingering love for a ghost, he never anticipated that his little terrorist's infatuation would ignite a spark that devoured his own sterile heart. Shinobu's unconditional and passionate love had reinvigorated his world.

He still quibbled with the little terrorist's declarations of Fate.

Destiny was a pretty shitty concept in his eyes.

The thought that a cosmic plan had purposely contrived a design to cause torment and anguish in life angered him. Hunched over the steering wheel, he snorted in disgust dwelling on the idea that Fate had any power in his choices. Their choices could have orchestrated a very different outcome for them both. Destiny had no hand in him choosing to love his Sensei or the fact his ex-wife could not invoke the same emotions that Shinobu could.

Pure chance had conceived the conditions for their relationship to spawn. Under different circumstances, if he had chosen to work at his marriage, ex-wife could have been sitting next to him in this vehicle. He shuddered as a cool tingle shot down his back.

A cursed choice, Miyagi thought stretching his stiffening muscles. Thank goodness for commonsense.

Under dark bangs, he watched his lover's profile as he spoke on the phone. The young lawyer was on his third call. Efficiently, he had conversed with another junior colleague to organise cover for his court session. The court was briefed of the change in representation. Now, the final exchange was to inform the senior legal representative of the case about the urgent change. Fortunately, it was a minor misdemeanor case that was likely to be dismissed due to the age of the accused.

"Moshi-moshi. Is Daiwa-sensei available?"

The monotonous sound of hold music jangled from the handset. The car filled with the corporate cacophony. With a snort of disgust, Shinobu rolled his eyes impatiently at the delay. Holding the mobile device away from his ear, the young lawyer scowled tigerishly at the gadget that dared to emit the dissonant sound.

Miyagi chuckled at unimpressed expression on the lawyer's face.

"What?" Shinobu growled at him. "What's so funny, old man?"

"Kawaii." He smiled pointing back at his stormy eyed lover.

"I'm not!" The young lawyer glowered indignantly.

"You are unbearably cute, Shinobu-chin." Miyagi whispered, leaning over so his breath tickled his lover's ear as he spoke

"Baka." Shinobu muttered to himself, feeling his cheeks burn.

Strong fingers gently gripped the younger man's chin. Grey eyes widened at the dawning of the older man's intention. Shinobu's breath hitched as their lips stood inches apart. A teasing light glinted in Miyagi's onyx orbs.

"Shinobu…"

A voice squawked up from the handset.

Both men sat frozen, staring at each other like children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. Shinobu coughed, clearing his dry throat to collect his composure to greet his employer. With a sigh of defeat, the dark-haired professor slumped back into his seat. His chance to steal a kiss quashed. The moment lost to a deep miter of his lover's employer.

Denied by the boss, Miyagi sighed himself.

Leaning back in his seat, he pondered, the time necessary for them to clear the road works that lay ahead. Should he take another route? The car had in-built satellite navigation. He rarely had the excuse to use the system. Maybe, it could plan a more effective route home.

A mellifluous caress brushed against his cheek.

Out the corner of his dark eyes, Miyagi witnessed his lover hastily retreat to the passenger seat. The fuchsia flush of embarrassment stained his lover's cheeks. Blushing vermillion red, Shinobu swiftly collected a notepad and pen to scribble down dictated notes.

"Gomennasai, Daiwa-sensei." Shinobu stuttered, fighting down the flame in his cheeks. "I needed to grab a pen from my briefcase, could you repeat that for me?"

Shaking his head, Miyagi focused back on the unmoving traffic. A broad smile adorned his face at his lover's innocent reaction. Amused that eight years on, his bashful lover could glow scarlet in mortification up to his ears.

Blurring horns of the traffic eroded on his thoughts. Inching forward a few extra millimeters, the traffic continued to clamber forward at a snail's pace. Twiddling with the dials, he adjusted the car's air-conditioning as the heat of the early summer afternoon rose. The car was becoming an oven. Perspiration rolled down the back of his neck. Tugging at his tie and opening his shirt collar, Miyagi cursed the traffic. Half listening to his lover's conversation, his thoughts wandered listlessly for the rest of the journey to their apartment in the Minato district.

Five years ago, he had purchased this property. The distance to work was the compromise for the space this older apartment possessed. The love appeal of the property came from the large floor plan and additional rooms just for his books. Miyagi believed his elderly grandfather would have approved of him using his inheritance to invest in the property. Perhaps not living with a man, but definitely utilizing the money to purchase security.

He had bought this apartment as a promise for Shinobu.

A place that was just theirs.

Safe from the condemnation of others.

They had crafted a home here.

The place they greeted every morning locked in each other's embrace.

The fresh start they had needed.

Unloading the last box from the rental van had been the happiest moment of his life. Shinobu slept on the sofa as he entered their new home. Setting down the last box, Miyagi scanned about for the kitchen supplies. He would cook dinner. Soba noodles were the traditional first meal in a new home. It would be nice to share that tradition with Shinobu. Scratching his head, Miyagi wondered where he had stacked the mystery box. Somewhere in the chaos of their moving boxes was hidden a packet of the soba noodles.

The intercom chirped to life in the middle of his hunt.

With a defeated sigh, he surrendered.

Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of his new associate professor. Hanaori Roora was a tall half British, half Japanese woman with long auburn hair and pretty emerald eyes. Half of the single male staff of M University where besotted with this woman. Daily declarations of love had flooded their office for the last month. Until, Hanaori's harpy side egressed. She was a competent replacement for Kamijou; her doctorate work had focused Bashou making here a vital resource for his own research.

Impressively, she had charmed Shinobu in seconds.

The little terrorist had blustered into the office the day of her interview. Squawking on about the dramatics of second year students. His lover was a romantic amongst wolves at college. His terrorist verbalized his frustrations at his friend's taste for one-night stands. Bitter at the offhanded jibs of mindless buffoons whose imprudent scruples were less than honorable. The younger man continued to rage on about the filthy behaviour of his counterparts.

Shinobu stood still in his tracks as he noticed Miyagi's companion.

Surprise flared in his grey eyes.

His potential colleague and lover turned to him with curious and raging looks.

"Who's that old man?" Shinobu thundered.

"Professor, is this boy…" Hanaori had begun.

His head throbbed threateningly as he introduced the pair.

Shinobu's glaring daggers failed to unsettle the sturdy scholar.

She suspiciously watched his lover.

"Hanaori-sensei, please meet the Dean's son, Takatsuki Shinobu." Miyagi said carefully, trying to logically explain Shinobu's present without raising alarm bells. "You will see him in the office from time to time; he is studying literature with me privately."

"I see, Professor Miyagi." The young woman answered flatly. "How old are you, Takatsuki-san?"

"Twenty."

"And how long have you two been sleeping together?"

The silence thronged the roomwith taciturnity.

The grey-eyed terrorist stared speechless at the disapproving woman, sitting opposite him. Miyagi fumbled for a cigarette as the stress clinched his stomach with a sickly grip. Hanaori sat reservedly in unabashed reticence, as both men composed themselves.

Shinobu found his words first.

"Tha-t's no-ne of your bus-ine-ss." He answered shakily.

Glancing to him, Hanaori sternly repeated her question.

"Three years," he answered honestly, releasing three years of tension in a puff of smoke. "Shinobu has been my lover for three years since May."

"I'm assuming by your reaction you're both still in the closet?" She asked with flat-pan seriousness.

"Why is that important?" Shinobu asked.

"It's not. But, I'm going to be working closely with Miyagi-sensei." She retorted. "Because of that, I need to know boundaries."

"How did you know?"

"Psychic," she whispered with a wink.

Miyagi was astonished by the surreal conversation, taking place in his office. In the six months after Kamijou's death, Hanaori was pleasant blast of fresh air. The healing of the literature department began in earnest with her presence. She was considerate and insightful; beneath her serious facade she harbored a playful streak that poured laughter out from all corners the literature office. Miyagi found himself pranked a few times by his new associate in their first semester. The students adored their gorgeous professor; by the fall term their admission rates for second year studies rose by nearly seventy-five percent.

Hanaori kept her word like Cerberus guarded Hades.

She had sworn never to disclose their secret relationship.

Fear dogged their footsteps for the first few years of their relationship; trusting others had been difficult. Kamijou's loyalty was bestowed with friendship and in return that Miyagi knew his darkest secrets. The threat of discovery always loomed. It held the power to destroy everything he had worked for in his career. University took the disapproving eyes of the law away as Shinobu was legally of age. However, the ominous peril continued to lay in wait from Shinobu's family.

Miyagi made tea for his guest.

Shinobu continued to sleep through the visit of their first guest.

Hanaori had draped a blanket over his young lover. Mothering over sleeping the third year student. She tucked stroked his soft sandy hair a few times. Before sitting back in the chair opposite his young terrorist.

"Your mothering instinct is showing," he teased his co-worker.

"Slips out from time to time," she whispered taking the mug of tea from him. "He looks exhausted."

"The last few weeks have been… difficult."

"The Dean hasn't been back to work yet," Hanaori murmured softly. "They say the attack was quite serious. Have his family contacted you at all?"

"Hanaori, I'm telling you this as I trust you." His voice a little strained with emotion. "They haven't even tried to contact him. From the sick letter he received two weeks ago, I think they plan to disinherit him."

Green eyes swelled with tears. "He's lucky he has you, Miyagi."

"I caused this."

"Don't say that!" She hissed. "Don't cheapen the sacrifice that he's made to love you."

A blow to the back of his head dragged him from his thoughts.

Annoyed blurring horns tooted out their irritation at being held up.

The traffic ahead was moving steadily.

Another ten minutes saw them pulling into the street level parking space assigned to their apartment. He turned off the ignition with a sense of peace. He glanced to his lover. Misty grey eyes smiled back at him. Miyagi knew he would never trade the last four years of loving his terrorist.

How wonderfully his lover had matured as an adult.

The adult mode of his terrorist outwardly appeared disciplined and mature. In university, he had perfected the smart, cool and calm facade of an adult, necessary for the practice of law. Sophisticated, charming and tantalizingly handsome in a suit, it was hard to fathom appearances were indeed deceptive. Underneath the polished suit, lurked the blunt, unreasonable and selfish brat whose head was filled of soft thoughts of Miyagi. Despite the sacrifices, his stubborn lover clung through the turbulent storm with him. For that, Miyagi was grateful.

He had inherently worried if this choice had been the right decision. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulder occasionally. He witnessed his lover sacrifice so much to be with him.

"Shinobu," he said grasping the lawyer's hand. "I love you."

Grey eyes softened. "Baka. I knew that. I love you too."

His hand strayed to the blond locks of his lover. Pulling Shinobu over the gearbox, he kissed the young lawyer deeply. Pouring affirmation into their kisses.

"Whatever the future brings for us, I won't let go." Miyagi vowed, brushing his lips over his lover's in promise. "It's us against the world."

To be continued…