Chapter 7

Aftermath

After the long and emotional day of their return back to Japan, the peace of the condo was almost unreal. No reporters awaited them outside the building and no microphones prepared to be shoved in their faces. Misaki stepped through the door of what he'd learned to call his home and breathed in a sigh of relief. It was good to be back.

Usami came in behind him, carrying the lesser amount of luggage the two had taken with them to America. He too could hardly mask the lift to his mood that the sight of his home brought him. Dropping what was in his hands he laid across on of the couches and nuzzle the human-sized teddy-bear that sat atop its cushions. "Ah, Suzuki I should have brought you with me."

Misaki smiled at his display before carrying the bags he carried in his hands upstairs. He was absolutely exhausted from the events of the day, but it wasn't over yet. On the way back down, Misaki called out.

"Usagi-san, what do you want for dinner?"

There was a moment of silence before his lover mumbled out: "I want Misaki's omelets."

"Eh? But it's dinnertime…"

"Don't care."

Usami was still laid across the couch, his face buried in the bear's soft brown fur. Misaki stopped beside him on his way to the kitchen. "…Usagi-san?"

The man grunted in response.

"Is… is your face alright?" Misaki grimaced as he recalled the harsh slap his lover had suffered along with that morning's events. He hadn't been able to get a good look at his face the whole way home and he was still worried.

"It's fine."

"Are you sure? I know it's been all day, and Nii-san didn't exactly punch you, but you should still let me see. With your luck it's probably bad."

There was a silence, then Usami reached out for him and pulled him onto the couch with him. "It makes me so happy when you worry about me, Misaki."

Misaki flushed and floundered into a sitting position on top of the author's body before gasping in shock.

"Usagi-san! Your face!" Misaki's hands flew around his lover's complexion worriedly.

Usami's entire left cheek was a dark purple color, and though there was no swelling, the discoloration was enough to send Misaki whirlwinding into the kitchen to fetch a bag of ice for him.

When he returned, he promptly held the cold pack up against Usami's face, trying not to press to hard. "Does it still hurt? I didn't know Nii-san could hit that hard!"

"I didn't either." Usami grimaced. Though he thoroughly enjoyed the attention, the cold made his cheek throb painfully. "But it'll be alright. It was worth it."

Misaki felt his face heat again at the rabbit's words and he shifted his gaze down to the carpet. "Th-that's not true…"

"Misaki, I would let Takahiro hit me a thousand times if I knew in the end I would earn you."

"You're just saying that."

"Masaki…" Usami's hand covered the boy's smaller one that held the ice to his cheek. "You know I mean it." He said, his warm breath sliding between them before he pressed a gentle kiss to Misaki's lips. It took the younger by surprise, not because it was a kiss, but because it was the softest he'd ever received from Usami. This tenderness, this raw emotion, this vulnerability that Usami had opened up to him was too much.

Misaki slowly pulled away from the kiss and shook his head in embarrassment. "Hold that ice on your cheek while I make dinner.

~FF~

"You're missing the point, Akihiko." A gruff, annoyed voice passed through the receiver. "His face is all over Japan!"

"And that's a problem because?" Usami lit a cigarette as he sat on the side of the mattress talking into his cell phone. Behind him lay Misaki, his sweet face like an angels in sleep.

"It's too much! At the very least he'll be a distraction to his classmates, at worst there's always the possibility of bullying." Hiroki Kumajiro muttered through on his end of the call.

"Hiroki, the boy's in college, I doubt there's much bullying left."

Hiroki made an agitated noise.

"Fine, believe what you will, but don't come crying to me when your boytoy comes home beaten and bloody."

Usami bristled. "Misaki is not my toy, and nothing is going to happen to him."

"Well I don't mean to burst your goddamn bubble, Akihiko, but you haven't been on a college campus in ten years, so you are in no position to argue. I'm trying to warn you!"

The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the hand that held his cigarette. Though he hated to admit it, Hiroki was right.

"You're his teacher, aren't you?"

"What of it?"

"Would you look out for him?"

"For God's sake, Akihiko, I'm not a babysitter!"

"I know that. Just for the first few weeks he's back. Until everything calms down." He didn't know what he'd do if anything happened to his Misaki.

Hiroki grumbled. "Fine. But if something happens, the most I'll be able to do is tell you about it."

"That's more than he would do himself."

There was a moment of awkward silence at this comment before the muffled sound of a door opening and a cheerful voice broke the quiet in the background of Hiroki's side of the line. "Oh, Hiro-san, you're up late! Who're you talking to?"

"I should go, Akihiko. Like I said, I'm not his babysitter, and I won't get involved if I don't have to."

Usami released a breath of smoke in relief. "You're a good friend, Hiroki."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered bedore hanging up with a click.

Akihiko looked at the screen of his phone for several seconds as he finished off his smoke, then set it on the bedside table and snuffed out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray. He hadn't truly thought about Misaki's school until tonight and now… Well now he was a little worried. He pulled the blankets back up over his shoulders and wrapped his long arms around Misaki's smaller frame, for the first time, hoping that everything would be alright.