Hiroki pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed his bloodshot eyes with balled fists. He stared down at the final essay that he had to grade on his desk. He scowled at the papers when he read the name. Hiroki had never expected much from the Takahashi kid, but there had to be a limit to how stupid one brat could be.
I want you to carry my child.
Hiroki looked up from the essay as Nowaki's words from the night before echoed in his head. Subconsciously, he reached down to knead his firm abdomen through his dress shirt. He pressed into the flesh, trying to imagine an unborn human beneath his skin. His eyes darkened at the thought of giving birth, and he shuddered at the thought of the pain. What kind of marks would it leave? Hiroki already classified himself as unattractive, despite Nowaki's constant cooing over his supposed 'beauty'. He could only imagine the embarrassment stretch marks would bring him.
"Damn it," Hiroki muttered under his breath. "Why am I even thinking about this? What's done is done."
Another wave of humiliation hit him as he, again, realized that he was talking to himself. Folding his arms on his desk, Hiroki lowered his head to rest his aching neck from looking down all day. He thought of Miyagi's words, and the guilt irritated his aching heart even more. He hated fighting with Nowaki. Why couldn't the big idiot just realize that all Hiroki needed was him? He didn't need or even want a brat to be happy. Unnecessary pain, that was all it was. He got enough pain from sex, did Nowaki really think he needed more?
Hiroki's cheeks burned at the thought, and he burrowed his face further into his arms.
Hiroki jerked awake when he heard the office door slam open. Dazed with grogginess, Hiroki swung around in his chair, wiping the drool off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Nowaki stood in the doorway, panting slightly, his trademark grey scarf hanging loosely from his shoulders. In his hand he gripped a bouquet of red roses and a new book that Hiroki had wanted but hadn't found time to purchase.
"Hiro-san," Nowaki breathed between gasps. He sighed shakily, putting his head in his free hand. "Don't… don't scare me like that. I thought you weren't going to come home."
Hiroki glanced tiredly at the wall clock, where it read 7 'o clock, two hours since Miyagi had told him to go home.
"Oh, sorry," he said in a gravelly voice, clearing his throat to get rid of the sleepiness. "I fell asleep."
Without warning, Nowaki rushed forward, casting the flowers and books aside as he fell to his knees before Hiroki. He wrapped his long arms around his lover's waist, squeezing possessively.
"Hiro-san," he whispered. His hold tightened. "Hiro-san, Hiro-san!"
"D-Don't start up with th-that again," Hiroki stammered, trying to make himself sound angry. However, he couldn't help but to put a hand on Nowaki's head and stroke his hair back soothingly.
"Hiro-san, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I snapped, and I'm sorry I even brought that Append-X home. I'm sorry I didn't say hi when I arrived, and I'm sorry that I-"
"Nowaki," Hiroki said firmly, silencing his pleading lover. Nowaki looked up, the agony etched in his face desperate for relief. "Don't you ever, ever do that again."
Nowaki's darkened face finally lightened, and Hiroki's heart fluttered as his lover's face burst into a wide smile. Hiroki had missed it so much.
"Hiro-san, I love you," Nowaki said softly. Then, he raised his voice. "I love you so much that I can hardly see straight!"
Hiroki's face flushed scarlet in horror, and he tried to shove Nowaki away.
"Sh-Sh-Shut the hell up! Get off the floor, you dumbass!" Hiroki yelled irritably as his heart pounded against the base of his throat.
"Yes, Hiro-san!" Nowaki said happily. He launched himself to his feet and before Hiroki could even register what was happening, he was sprawled out on top of Misaki Takahashi's essay, his legs spread and pushed back towards his chest. Hiroki's lips flapped speechlessly as Nowaki gripped his knees and skillfully slipped in between his thighs, grinding his rather hard erection into his smaller lover.
Hiroki thrashed about in response, throwing anything and everything he could get his hands on at his attacker. Nimbly dodging the pencils, pens, and staplers, Nowaki groaned as he grabbed Hiroki's hips and pressed the bulge in his pants against Hiroki's stirring manhood. Even with his pants on, Hiroki could feel Nowaki's heat, and his own traitorous organ twitched in approval as it began to harden. Nowaki bent over Hiroki, his rubbing and thrusting quickening. Hiroki couldn't suppress a tiny moan as Nowaki's clothed hips crashed into his at the perfect angle.
"Hiro-san… right here, I want t- uhn!" Nowaki's voice cut out as he let out an animalistic growl of pleasure. Hiroki blushed furiously.
"I-Idiot! Not here! I still have my d-dress clothes on!" Hiroki bellowed. Despite his angry words, he threw his head back to silently scream at the ceiling as a particularly sensitive spot was hit once again.
"Hiro-san, I want to fill you up right now," Nowaki snarled, tipping his head back slightly as he ground into his smaller lover a little harder.
"N-Nowaki, the essa- ahn!" Hiroki moaned as Nowaki reached down to tweak his nipples through his dress shirt.
"I can't wait, it's been so long. It's been three whole weeks since I've felt your sweet little ass. I want to taste yo-"
"Nowaki!" Hiroki cried out, half in pleasure and half in exasperation. Nowaki didn't usually talk dirty to him, and Hiroki's blush spread quickly to his ears and deepened a few shades. "We n-need to… oh my God… mmm, Nowaki… we need to go -ah!- home first! P-Please!"
Hiroki was quickly losing his will to fight back as he felt his abdomen begin to tighten. He writhed helplessly on top of the essay on his desk, subconsciously bucking his hips.
"Ohhh… oh, Nowaki! Nowaki!"
Nowaki feverishly fiddled with his pants as Hiroki watched on with lust-filled eyes. His fingers fumbled the offending button. The second his zipper went down, however, Hiroki came to his senses and reached behind his head. He grabbed the closest book he could get his hands on and hurled it at Nowaki. It slammed into his forehead and flopped to the floor. Nowaki finally froze, looking up from his pants guiltily.
"Hiro-san… sorry, I'm just…" Nowaki trailed off sheepishly, removing his bulge from Hiroki's front. He straightened and took a step back, allowing Hiroki to sit up. His cheeks burning with humiliation, Hiroki smoothed down his disheveled dress shirt and averted his eyes. Despite himself, all of the blood from his head had drained into his throbbing groin, and without really thinking, Hiroki slid off of the desk and wrapped his arms around Nowaki's neck.
"I-I'm on edge, too," Hiroki murmured. He flicked his gaze nervously up to Nowaki, who stared back down at him with glazed-over, cobalt eyes. Thumbing at Nowaki's neck, Hiroki swayed slightly with the weight of his lust. "Um… I'd rather do it at home, where w-we don't have to uh… worry about s-s-someone hearing us. R-Right, Nowaki?"
Believing he had failed to seduce Nowaki when he didn't answer, Hiroki shyly brushed his hips against his lover's thigh to convey his intentions. Nowaki's breath hitched and Hiroki felt a tiny bit of confidence, grinding a little harder.
"Hiro-san, unless we do it here, I don't think I'm going to be able to be gentle when we get home," Nowaki hissed through gritted teeth, pinching his lips together and suppressing a growl. Hiroki immediately pushed away, squeezing his eyes shut in mortification.
"You're an idiot," he replied simply, unable to find the strength to hit Nowaki. Instead of getting a response, Hiroki suddenly found himself thrown over his lover's shoulders. He flailed about as Nowaki speed-walked out of the office, his iron grip on Hiroki's thighs unbreakable.
"Remember, you're the one who wanted this," Nowaki said lowly as he marched straight out of the building and into the darkened streets, heading in the direction of their apartment.
"What are you doing, you big idiot?" Hiroki shouted, clawing at Nowaki's back in an attempt to get down. "Put me down, Nowaki! Put me down!"
Back in the office, a rose petal broke off one of the flowers in the forgotten bouquet.