The Uke Flu

Chapter Thirty: Homework

Hiroki arrived home from the hospital feeling exhausted. He took off his shoes, hung up his coat, slipped into his slippers, carried his book bag with him into the front room, and set it on the low table in front of the couch. He scowled at the satchel as though that would make the student work inside disappear. He just didn't feel like grading.

Well, it's an intro class, Kamijou; you never really feel like grading those disasters. But the foreboding as he looked at his bag tonight was particularly pronounced.

Hiroki went to the refrigerator and peered inside. He took out a beer and grabbed some leftovers knowing that he shouldn't drink on an empty stomach. He looked at the bottle. The label had changed a bit, Hiroki supposed to make it attractive to the up and coming generation of drinkers, but otherwise it was the same cheap brand he used to buy in college. Of course, he consumed quite a bit less of it now than he did back then: usually limiting it to a beer or two on the weekends and sometimes not even that.

Hiroki considered how much he had really changed with the passage of time. Looking at the revised label, he gave it a half smile.

Change is the only consistent. He set the bottle back down and placed his leftovers in the microwave.

As his dinner was cooking, Hiroki went into the bedroom to get out of his work clothes and put something more comfortable on. He observed on entry that the futon wasn't made. He frowned as he considered his tired giant oversleeping.

Nowaki must have really been in a hurry to get to work.

Nowaki had told him they had required that every child make his/her bed each day upon rising at the orphanage. It was a habit so engrained in Nowaki after all those years living there, that now it was an automatic response. The corner of Hiroki's mouth curled up at a memory: there had been a few times in fact, when they first started sleeping together, that Nowaki had risen before him and, not fully awake yet, had tried to make the bed with him still in it.

Hiroki noticed Nowaki's phone on the floor. He stepped over and bent down to pick it up. Before he had straightened himself he flipped it open and tried to power it on. He sighed when nothing happened. As he was standing, Hiroki just happened to glance at the wall. He noticed the small discolored dent immediately.

So he threw it.

Hiroki frowned, he moved over and his long fingers grazed the dented plaster.

Nowaki usually tries to keep such a tight rein on his temper and shows it so rarely, he must have been really upset.

Out of habit, Hiroki took Nowaki's phone and went and put it on its charger. He reflected again on what he had seen that evening when he'd entered the locker room. He had never seen his partner in that kind of state before and it had rocked him to the core. Nowaki always seemed so impervious, he sometimes forgot that the younger man could still be brought down by a single word, said or unsaid.

Unlike him, Nowaki had always been the kind of man who strove to hold everything in. That Nowaki had been forced to reveal his feelings to an idiot like Tsumori and not to him only heightened Hiroki's sense of shame. He didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for causing his giant so much pain.

Hiroki set Nowaki's phone on the small table on the giant's side of the bed and went about changing his clothes. He slipped into a pair of loose cotton pajama pants and a tee shirt, grabbed a sweater for when he got too cold, as he knew he inevitably would, and headed back out into the other room just in time to hear the microwave go off.

He gathered his bowl and his beer and went and sat cross-legged on the sofa. While he hated being alone in the apartment by himself at night, he did relish the silence.

I wonder what will happen to this silence once the babies come. Hiroki looked around the apartment.

We'll probably need to move again now… especially with twins. Hiroki set his bowl on the low coffee table and rubbed his ever-furrowed forehead.

Too bad really, since we've hardly just moved in and the location is so perfect in terms of distance to our workplaces. Not to mention that while the area was nice, it was still well under the cost of what they could really afford, now that Nowaki was working as a real doctor. Hiroki took a sip of his beer and looked over at his dinner with disinterest. He really wasn't hungry.

He thought of his conversation at the therapist's office with Kobayashi. They'd actually had a good discussion, academic almost, which was a far easier way for him to converse than having to engage in a dialogue about feelings.

Not that feelings didn't come up.

Hiroki had been surprised at how much easier it had been to talk with the man when Nowaki wasn't there. He didn't have to keep his guard up quite as much and was far less nervous about saying the wrong thing. He'd always had such a hard time articulating himself. Outside of papers or lectures, words not on a page were something that after thirty years he still hadn't mastered.

At the end of their appointment, Kobayashi had given him an assignment and asked him to come in for another individual session later. Considering what he was supposed to do, Hiroki wondered uneasily if Nowaki would even have the energy for conversation when he finally got home from the hospital.

Not that we can't talk in the morning. The thought of prolonging things, however, brought a new crease to Hiroki's forehead.

The professor took another swig of his beer and then set the bottle down. He opened his book bag and took out some blank sheets of paper and a pen. Hiroki stared at the white space with trepidation. He wanted to do this even less than he wanted to grade his students' work, but he had always been a highly conscientious student himself, so with a nervous hand he began to try and fill the empty page with words.

Nowaki quietly opened the door into their silent apartment. He slipped off his shoes and hung up his things. They had sent him home from the hospital halfway through his shift but not because of the morning sickness. Actually, though exhausted, he was feeling much better than he had been. His sense of sickness had begun to fade soon into his rounds, and the relief he felt at knowing that there would be peace between he and Hiro-san had been immense. No, instead he had been sent him home because some reporters had shown up wanting the scoop about Yuki and Shindou and were causing disturbances, trying to sneak into the wards to find him.

At least there wasn't anyone lying in wait outside our apartment when I got home. Nowaki's mind flashed back to the early days of Misaki's pregnancy. He hoped he was never in the spotlight like that again. Not just for his sake, but the invasion into their privacy had initially devastated Hiro-san, revealing their partnership to the University. A frown crossed Nowaki's face and he set this memory and his worry about the press to the side. He had more pressing things to worry about at the moment.

Even on a half shift work had been hard tonight, though not just the way it usually was. Apparently a number of the staff had seen the pictures on the news or the Internet besides Tsumori. Quite a few people, nurses mostly, had stopped to surreptitiously inquire or to congratulate him on his assumed impending new family member. Of course, they all thought that it was Hiro-san who was having it. After all his chiding of Hiroki that morning about honesty, Nowaki felt badly that he hadn't corrected them.

One reason for this came early on in his shift, after overhearing a small cluster of ladies talking animatedly at the nurses' station about how "this explained Kusama-sensei's taxed appearance recently." And… "how hard it must be for young Dr. Kusama to have a hormonal partner at home, especially, as Kamijou-san was a man and all women knew that men just weren't built to put up with that kind of discomfort."

Nowaki was surprised at their gossip. He thought he'd been hiding his state rather well. He'd turned around and headed the other direction rather than embarrass them by appearing. As he walked away he could still hear the women who had begun exchanging war stories about "impossible husbands with head-colds."

Their conversation had chafed at Nowaki in a way he hadn't expected.

Perhaps it was his chemically induced sensitivity or maybe it was a place of pride he hadn't previously been aware of. Normally, he didn't care much what other people thought about him (except Hiro-san). But after breaking down that evening, the last thing that he wanted at the moment was to be perceived of as weak, by anyone.

Nowaki was more than a bit ashamed of himself that he'd rather have the people around him believe he was putting up with an irascible Hiro-san, which he did everyday regardless, than that he wasn't able to navigate his current state with the usual high performance that he had established for most everything else in his life.

Then there was the issue of Tsumori.

All night after what happened in the locker room he and Tsumori had worked to avoid each other. Nowaki rubbed the back of his shaggy head. He wondered if Tsumori would keep his secret. He had no idea how the other man was feeling now or what he might be inclined to do.

Nowaki had been honestly shocked by Tsumori's confession despite the fact Hiro-san had been warning him about his senpai's antics for years. Nowaki was even more shocked however, when Hiro-san had encountered him and Tsumori together: it would have been the perfect opportunity for Hiro-san to say 'I told you so,' and yet he had refrained.

Though that doesn't mean he might not still.

Even with this thought some of Nowaki's fatigue was replaced almost immediately by a glowing sense of warmth when he stepped into the main room of their apartment and saw Hiroki asleep on the couch. Hiro-san had obviously been waiting for him.

The professor had tucked himself into one corner of the sofa. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his head resting in the cradle of his crossed arms and set on top of his bent knees: even in sleep Hiroki adopted a protective posture. Nowaki smiled knowing that so much of Hiro-san's bluster was because he saw so much and felt so deeply. Hiro-san had to act the way that he did, otherwise the fragile carapace he wore would be pierced and the man quickly bleed out.

Nowaki felt a sudden rush of pride for how Hiro-san had responded to the situation that evening. Thinking back even a few years ago and how Hiroki would have probably reacted, one couldn't say that there hadn't been growth. The kind of restraint that his partner had demonstrated this evening was exactly the kind of behavior that gave Nowaki confidence that Hiro-san would no doubt be a really good father.

Easing himself onto the couch next to Hiroki, Nowaki saw the beer bottle with only about a quarter remaining and the untouched dinner bowl. Nowaki smiled. Hiro-san never had been a very good drinker: with his lean frame the man felt its effects quickly and deeply. Nowaki imagined the modest bit Hiro-san had consumed was probably what had put him to sleep.

Nowaki leaned over and ran his long fingers through wild auburn locks.

"Hiro-san."

Nowaki stroked Hiroki's head. He smiled when his partner sighed and unconsciously pushed into his touch.

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki whispered again. Hiroki raised his head and blinked sleepily. Nowaki always loved watching Hiro-san wake up, as there was that brief moment of peace in his partner's eyes before his brain fully kicked in and the older man was once again conscious of the weight of his mind.

"Ahhh, Nowaki…" Hiroki averted his eyes quickly, feeling unworthy of the sweet gaze that met him. "What time is it?" His voice was still thick with sleep. Nowaki removed his hand and sat back slightly. He didn't want to stop touching Hiro-san, but it was easier to break this tenuous point of contact voluntarily than have the other man pull away.

"It's about half past one."

"You're home early." Hiroki yawned as he straightened and began fiddling with the papers that had slipped down into his lap. Then suddenly he looked at Nowaki with concern.

"Are you okay?"

Nowaki leaned his head on the back of the couch, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. "Reporters came to the hospital looking for me. It was disruptive, so they sent me home." Nowaki turned his head sideways and looked at his lover. "Hiro-san, people assume we're having a baby."

Hiroki looked at his giant and shrugged. "And?"

Nowaki closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Everyone thinks you're having the baby and I didn't tell them you're not."

"Oh."

Nowaki opened his eyes and looked searchingly into Hiroki's face. "Are you mad, Hiro-san? I mean, after everything I said about being honest."

"Nowaki, I said in the car today I would pretend if it would help you." Hiroki set the papers he was holding on the coffee table

"I know but…"

"Are you tired?" Hiroki cut Nowaki's comments short as he stretched his stiff limbs.

"What?" Nowaki was thrown by the sudden question.

"Are you tired?" Hiroki repeated. He ventured a tentative touch to sweep Nowaki's shaggy bangs out of his eyes. "If you are, we could talk about this in the morning?"

Nowaki suddenly realized Hiroki was in the process of executing a classic Kamijou diversion. He took Hiroki's hand in his own and brought it gently to his lips; he kissed Hiroki's hand and then lowered it.

"Yes, Hiro-san I'm tired, but I'd rather talk now. I am afraid in the morning things might just go on as they have."

Nowaki watched as Hiroki gently pulled his hand out of his and reached for a throw pillow, pulling it tight to his body and wrapping his arms around it. This was another classic Kamijou move. Hiroki looked down at the pillow in his arms.

"Nowaki, I saw Dr. Kobayashi by myself this afternoon and you're right, he's not such an ass," Hiroki glanced up.

Nowaki said nothing, but smiled encouragingly.

"Anyway," Hiroki ran his fingers through his tangled mane. "We talked a lot about the… um… 'truth' and how I often don't say what I really mean."

"Like when you said today that the babies were messing up our lives though they weren't even here yet and that was why you didn't want children, Hiro-san?" Nowaki's voice didn't contain any anger or condemnation, only a distinct note of sadness.

Hiroki blanched. After all these years Nowaki's directness could still completely unnerve him.

"You heard that, Nowaki?" Hiroki's voice was barely a whisper.

"I was coming after you, Hiro-san, and I heard you through the door," Nowaki whispered back.

"Ah… Nowaki…" Hiroki faltered. "I was angry… I didn't mean it." He fidgeted a bit. "Kobayashi told me I needed to write down what I really mean and then read it to you." Nowaki looked at Hiroki with interest.

"And you did that, Hiro-san?"

"Well, kind of…" Hiroki looked at the papers on the coffee table; he reached over and picked the top sheet up. "Can I tell what I have been thinking about since this morning and after what happened tonight?"

"Hiro-san," Nowaki said earnestly, "I can honestly say there is nothing in the world I would like more to know."

Hiroki located his glasses and put them on. He drew in a deep breath. Nowaki watched the blush that he knew so well and loved so much creep up into his beloved professor's cheeks.

"Okay, first point," Hiroki started, looking down at the paper.

"Nowaki, I know how much you have wanted a family and while I have always said no, I guess I have known, in a certain part of myself, that eventually we would have one somehow… Because this would make you happy and you being happy, while I do a poor job of showing it, is vital to me.

"And maybe if I wasn't so worried about being such an ass like my father… Maybe I would admit there's a part of me that has maybe at times wanted this too.

"I just don't want to see either of us have to give up everything that we've worked so hard for, but I know that we can figure this out if we do it together." Hiroki wanted to look up and see how Nowaki was responding, but he didn't because he was afraid he would lose his nerve and back out.

Nowaki looked at Hiro-san. He could see the paper that the man was holding tremor slightly. The young doctor knew just how hard this was for his partner, to speak about something so personal so openly.

"The second point…" Hiroki drew a deep breath and continued.

"While there is honestly nothing that is less appealing to me than the thought of carrying a baby, the reason I didn't get the shot uh… and didn't tell you… Well…" Hiroki grimaced, his professorial delivery was evading him and he had the feeling what he was going to say next would just sound like a frantic babble.

"I went to get the vaccine and when I got there I just kept thinking. Even though the whole 'Flu' thing appalls me… I uh… I couldn't bring myself to cut that option off for you… I mean, since you wanted it so much…

"But then I didn't want to tell you that I hadn't done it... because at the same time I also kept thinking I really just couldn't do it and then I'd plan to go take the vaccine again.

"I guess after a bit, though I know it isn't responsible of me... I thought if we just went on and it happened... I caught the flu... that would mean it was supposed to be."

Hiroki clutched the pillow tighter to his chest as he struggled to say out loud the thoughts that went unspoken in his head, that ever running monologue that so easily overwhelmed him.

"Nowaki, even after you told me I thought to stay un-vaccinated in case, Kami-sama forbid, something happened... But at the clinic, when Suzuki-sensei started talking about everything thing that you'll go through and what could go wrong... I... I'm just not that strong… I can't do it: I'm not like you that way, Nowaki." Hiroki's pride was taxed to his limit admitting all this and he was terrified that Nowaki would think less of him for revealing his weakness.

"Oh, Hiro-san," Nowaki started…

"Nowaki, please… This one time… I want to say it first." Hiroki looked up into his lover's dark blue eyes. "My third point: I love you, Nowaki, and regardless of what shape our life takes from this point on it doesn't matter to me as long as you are in it.

"I promise I will do my best for you and for our family."

Nowaki leaned forward; he pulled the pillow out of Hiroki's hands. Then he leaned in and kissed him.

It was the kind of kiss that renewed vows.

"Hiro-san, I can't believe you wrote all that down and said it to me." Nowaki pulled the paper out of Hiroki's hands. He wanted to read all those amazing things again.

"Ummm, Nowaki…" Hiroki started to blush as Nowaki looked at the paper.

"The truth is also that I am not as good a student as I used to be."

Nowaki saw upon reading that all the paper contained was the words "I love you, Nowaki." written over and over again in Hiro-san's careful script, filling the entire page.

"On the contrary, Hiro-san," Nowaki replied before he leaned in to claim Hiroki's mouth again, "I think this is one homework assignment you definitely aced."

NEW AN:

Hey All,

Sorry for lack of ANs but you know I love you!

Next chapter is citrus spiced. You want you lemon and I want to hear from you. Fair trade, I think.

Holler at me!

Cerberus