Wow, at last, an update! I'm really sorry for how long it's taken me to finally get round to updating this story. I can't believe I've actually left it for 3 months :/ But I have a pretty clear idea for the next chapter so hopefully it won't be so long to wait for the next update.

An important note: When I first started this story, I wanted to write about all three couples, and the previous chapter was intended as the transition over to Egoist. I'm afraid I've decided to change this. I seem to generally have a bit of a block when it comes to writing Egoist and I mostly enjoy writing Terrorist, so I'm now making this story entirely Terrorist. I'm really sorry if I'm disappointing many people, but that's the way it's going and hopefully will also mean faster updates. The other characters may pop in to the stories though - as Hiroki features heavily in this chapter. As the vast majority of scenario requests were for Terrorist anyway, I'm assuming that's what most people want. I'll still be continuing my Oneshot series for each of the three couples, so you can always find Egoist and Romantica there.

Anyway, I'm going to shut up now and leave you to read the next installment of The What If Machine! A quick word of caution: Hiroki is a bit OOC in this chapter. Chapter rating: T for caution.

Making A Move

Hiroki stared bemused at the What If machine as the screen faded to black. He was utterly gobsmacked. No, he wasn't a scientist, but he was a clever and educated man and if you had asked him twenty minutes earlier whether it was possible for there to be a machine neither powered nor programmed by man that could generate on the spot a seemingly accurate scene in answer to any 'what if' question posed to it by anyone on the planet, well…you would have immediately disintegrated under the force of his withering glance.

And yet, here was the evidence before him. Hiroki recognised immediately the importance of this machine – and Miyagi had given it to him freely (even though technically it wasn't his to give…).

And it seemed like Fate agreed with this last thought, as just as he was reaching out his hands to take up the machine, the door slammed open and the furious true owner of the machine stomped into the room with a deathly glare across his face.

"Get your filthy hands away from my machine!" Shinobu spat at Hiroki, who narrowed his eyes in a fierce retaliatory glare. "Miyagi!" Shinobu screeched at the other man, now cowering in the corner. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Why did I wake up this morning to find a large empty space on the desk in the spare room? And why is my machine now sitting on that man's desk with him pawing all over it?!"

"Er… Shinobu-chin," Miyagi began weakly.

"DON'T 'Shinobu-chin' me!" his young lover shouted, his hands balled into fists at his side. "Explain to me what you were thinking! Why are you trying to give away something that's mine? The machine's not done any harm!"

Miyagi frowned and stood up straighter.

"On the contrary," he began once more. This was something he was better at – calmly and professionally stating his points to win his argument. And so he proceeded to lay out his reasons for removing the machine from Shinobu's reach – it was dangerous, it was upsetting, it filled the boy with too much hope and fear, it devastated him when it showed him something he didn't like or couldn't cope with… And he, Miyagi, cared too much for Shinobu to stand by and watch as his lover's emotions were stretched to the limit until he snapped – he was really doing Shinobu a favour!

However, where usually his reasoned arguments and persuasive tone wore down any opponent into agreeing with him, in this instance he failed. Shinobu wasn't moved one bit. The boy continued to glare at him as in a few short words he denied any truth in Miyagi's arguments, snatched up the machine and marched self-righteously out of the office, sparing only a moment to snarl at Hiroki just as a dog snaps and bares its teeth to warn an intruder away from its territory.

The truth was, Shinobu contemplated as he rode the bus home, the machine perched on his lap, his arms wrapped protectively around it, no thought given to the fact that he was now missing his university classes… The truth was that not only did it hurt that Miyagi had taken something of his behind his back, but it tore at him that Miyagi had taken something so valuable and precious and given it to Kamijou.

Shinobu had held suspicions about the two colleagues for a long time, had walked in on them in compromising positions too often to dismiss his anxious and jealous thoughts. As much as Miyagi denied any romantic involvement with his assistant professor, and as much as Shinobu trusted in Miyagi's love for him, he couldn't rid himself of the little niggle that itched and irritated at the back of his mind whenever he thought of Miyagi in that man's company.

It wasn't that he minded Miyagi having friends. As much as he felt that he could happily spend time with Miyagi only, forsaking all others, he himself did still enjoy the company of his small circle of friends, the people he had grown up with in Japan and the people who had helped him feel at home in Australia. But he had never allowed anyone else to get so physically close – to get on top of him, to wrap their arms around him, to press their face close to his – the way that Miyagi and Kamijou did together whenever he walked in on them.

Miyagi had clung so insistently to his status as 'heterosexual' when they first met – could that mean then that he really had never done anything with Kamijou, that he would have rejected him just as he had initially rejected Shinobu? Did he not act so lovey-dovey with him before he fell for Shinobu? But then, if what Miyagi said was true and he did love Shinobu, why would he start coming on to Kamijou all the time if he had fallen for someone else? Or had he, Shinobu, in forcing Miyagi to accept his bisexuality, unleashed a monster who, having had a taste of what he had subconsciously desired but always denied himself, now couldn't help but paw at any male who came along?!

Shinobu gave a small, sudden sob at this last terrible thought and quickly pressed his lips together, embarrassed at the curious glances sent his way by the other passengers on the bus.

When the bus finally arrived at his stop, he clutched the What If Machine tightly and jumped up, hurrying back to the apartment as quickly as he could while carrying the hefty machine in his thin arms.

When he was inside, he carefully placed the machine back in its accustomed spot in his old room which was now the guest room since he always slept beside Miyagi. He blinked back a few tears as he considered that if Miyagi really was starting to favour Kamijou over him, perhaps this room would revert back to being his bedroom. Though, what would he do if Miyagi then brought Kamijou back to the apartment?! They would be in the very next room, he would have to hear them together, listen to the bed creaking, the two of them moaning… Would Miyagi call out Kamijou's name? Would he cry out "Hiroki!" instead of "Shinobu"?!

No! No, he couldn't bear it!

Shinobu clapped his hands to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to force out of his head the image of Miyagi lying naked on top of Kamijou, all sweaty and sated. Salty tears trickled down his cheeks and his shoulders shook silently as he held his sobs in.

Slowly lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, he rubbed his damp eyes with the palms of his hands and breathed deeply to calm his racing heart.

Okay, he thought. I've got the machine back – why not use it? Even if it merely confirms my fears, at least I can know for sure whether Miyagi and that man really do have something going on…

Steeling himself, Shinobu pondered for a moment how to phrase his question. What he wanted to know was whether Miyagi really had feelings for his subordinate or whether he was telling the truth when he said that he only messed about with him because annoying Kamijou was amusing… So what Shinobu needed to know was what would happen if Kamijou responded to Miyagi's advances instead of purportedly fending him off.

Taking a deep breath, Shinobu faced the What If Machine with still red eyes and asked,

"What if Kamijou made a move on Miyagi?"

He winced as the literature office at Mitsuhashi University came into focus on the screen, revealing an all too familiar scene…

"Ka-mi-jou!" Miyagi sang as he bounced across the office and attempted to wrap his arms around the agitated associate professor, who trashed and floundered in his embrace.

"MIYAGI! Get off me!" Hiroki thundered, struggling in vain against the other man's strong grip.

"No, Kamijou, for once I'm doing this for you, you need this! I saw your face when you came in, that big boyfriend of yours has upset my ickle-wickle Hiroki, hasn't he?! Well, don't worry, I'll always be here to console you." Miyagi breathed in Hiroki's ear, squeezing him tightly against his broad chest.

"I-I don't need your pity or your consolation, professor! Nothing's wrong with me and Nowaki, and – and anyway! What the hell are you talking about, 'boyfriend', hahaha!" Hiroki laughed nervously, fumbling over his words, trying to remain professional and not reveal the truth: that he and Nowaki were yet again in the middle of yet another miscommunication fiasco and, as much as he loved the other man, he was getting sick of these heart-wrenching episodes.

He felt his cheeks flush red under the suddenly intense gaze of the man so close to him. Usually when Miyagi attacked him like this, the idiot had an insane grin plastered across his face and his light-hearted attitude helped maintain the boundary between them. Now, however, his expression had turned serious and Hiroki suddenly sensed that Miyagi meant what he had said – he was trying to comfort his friend, not annoy him.

He felt his heart hammer at the realisation and, somewhat in trepidation, he twisted slightly in Miyagi's embrace to see for himself the expression on the other man's face.

Deep blue eyes were peering down at him, concern for Hiroki's happiness and well-being etched into the rare furrows on Miyagi's forehead. A lock of his ebony hair cascaded over his forehead and suddenly, the last rays of the late afternoon sun burst through the window behind him and splayed across Miyagi's handsome face, highlighting the angles of his strong jaw and cheekbones, contrasting against the hint of dark stubble. The yellow stream of light made his eyes twinkle and lit up a swirl of particles above his head – the practical side of Hiroki knew this was just dust, but to his hidden romantic, thudding heart, all Hiroki saw was a bright, sparkling halo of light above the handsome, strong, masculine angel who had suddenly swooped down to gather him in his warm embrace and soothe his aching soul.

Hiroki stared up at Miyagi in surprise and wonder; he had never looked at the other man in this way before. In fact, it had been a long time since he had felt this way about anyone at all, felt the first powerful stirrings of attraction. The memory of Miyagi leaning down to kiss him that night as he stood bedraggled in a puddle of rain that had dripped down from his sodden clothes suddenly filled his mind, and his eyes widened at the thought. Unbidden, his hands reached out to clutch at Miyagi, needing the support as his knees weakened.

If only, if only Miyagi would just kiss him! That's what he needed right now! Surely the other man could tell that! He had sensed that Hiroki needed a hug, couldn't he tell that that wasn't enough?!

Miyagi suddenly smiled down at Hiroki, a tender, friendly smile, and the younger man felt the arms that were holding him up slip away from his waist. Miyagi was letting go.

He felt an abrupt sense of loss. Moments ago he had been fighting to get free and now, all of a sudden, it was like he was out of his mind. He wanted Miyagi! He wanted to feel the man's arms around him, feel his lips pressed against his!

He was mad, there was no other explanation. Certainly the normal, rational, desperately shy Hiroki would never do this. But even as the blood flooded his cheeks, even as the remaining sane part of his brain screamed Nowaki's name at him, Hiroki's hand had a will of its own and he reached out and grasped at Miyagi. His tight grip startled the older man and he looked round with surprise at the sight, never seen before, of a crimson, determined looking Kamijou Hiroki hurtling towards him, actually looking amorous.

It was such a shocking sight, in fact, that Miyagi initially leapt backwards in panic. Usually when Hiroki came at him like that, he was guaranteed to be about to feel a tremendous amount of pain, not pleasure. The expression on Hiroki's face on this occasion wasn't much different than when he was coming after Miyagi in anger, except that there was a strange light in his eyes and, all of a sudden, his face was thrust far too close to Miyagi's.

Hiroki's lips landed on his before Miyagi could even quite comprehend what was happening. Before he knew it, he was pressed back against his desk, his shirt screwed up in Kamijou's fists, a hot tongue probing against his mouth.

He was too stunned to move for a good ten seconds, but finally it hit him what was happening and, with a firm grip on Hiroki's wrists to push him away, Miyagi turned his head and broke the kiss. Hiroki released a low hiss at the loss of contact, but took a short step back to allow Miyagi to straighten up somewhat.

Miyagi took a deep breath. He swallowed. Raising his eyes hesitantly, he met Hiroki's still fiery gaze.

"Hiroki," he began in a quiet, low voice, maintaining his grip on the younger man's wrists. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Hiroki growled in response. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Yes, it's obvious, but what I mean is, why are you doing it?!"

"I wanted to. Why not? You want it too!"

"What?" Miyagi asked, confused.

"Come on, Miyagi, you can't deny it," Hiroki answered impatiently. His eyes flicked back down to Miyagi's parted lips and he lunged forward for another kiss.

"Hiroki!" Miyagi barked, slightly annoyed now, as he pushed his subordinate back once more. "Would you stop it!"

"Why?! What's the matter?" Hiroki huffed, his glittering eyes darting hungrily all over Miyagi's face.

Miyagi stared at him in disbelief. "What's the matter?! It's totally inappropriate, that's what!"

"Says the man who let his boss' teenage son seduce him…" Hiroki mocked. "That ridiculous excuse won't work on me, Miyagi."

Miyagi ground his teeth as once again he was forced to push the younger man back. "Look, Hiroki… It's not that I don't care about you. But believe me – I do not want you in that way. Do you understand?"

"Bullshit," Hiroki rolled his eyes. "You're always coming after me, always touching me, always moaning my name –"

"To tease you! For fun, because we're friends! Nothing more! Believe me, Hiroki. Because the one I do want to be with is Shinobu, my boss' teenage son, yes, as ridiculous as that may sound."

Miyagi observed Hiroki closely as he said this. He could still hardly believe what had just occurred. His proud, shy, traditional and intensely faithful subordinate had just betrayed his long-term lover to cross a boundary with his boss at work. How the hell had that happened?!

It took a moment or two, but slowly the flush of madness swimming in Hiroki's eyes ebbed away and Miyagi was able to actually see sanity, commingled with an enormous dose of horror and embarrassment, return to his colleague. Hiroki's eyes grew larger than a deer's in full beam headlights as he realised what he had just done to his boss. He still had Miyagi half pinned to the desk and, as he started to push himself away, the door suddenly burst open.

A wave of dread washed over Miyagi; there could only be one person at the door at a time like this… But he was surprised when he turned to confirm who was standing in the doorway radiating a powerful aura of anger and hurt – instead of the petite, dark blonde kid he had expected, there stood a familiar, incredibly tall, dark man.

"Nowaki!" Hiroki burst in panic when he saw who had just entered the room.

Nowaki didn't reply; turning on his heel, he swiftly disappeared out of the office and down the corridor. Hiroki, at last back to normal, gave a quick glance at Miyagi, a mixed expression of guilt and anger on his face, and promptly ran off after his lover.

Miyagi sank down into his chair, sighing deeply. Passing a hand over his troubled face, he rubbed at his lips for a moment. Even though it had only lasted a few seconds, he could still feel the pressure from Kamijou's lips pushing against his, and he didn't like it. On an urge, he slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. He pressed the first number on speed dial and waited for his call to be picked up.

Hearing the familiar voice on the other end of the phone, he gave a deep sigh of pleasure and relief.

"Ah, Shinobu-chin," he rumbled, feeling the name slip comfortably off the tip of his tongue, familiar and easy and pleasurable, as it should be. "I just thought I'd give you a quick call. How's your day going? Want me to pick you up when you finish? Eh, what's that? Miss you? Well… I suppose, perhaps just a little…"

Shinobu's eyes remained fixed on the screen as Miyagi's voice slowly faded out. The tears staining his cheeks had initially flowed even faster as he watched another man try to kiss his Miyagi, but now they had dried completely. He hugged his knees, feeling his heart thump with relief rather than anxiety; here was proof at last – Miyagi really did love him. And even if that man were willing, Miyagi wouldn't touch him with a barge pole.

A.N. Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review :) Next up: more Terrorist!