I had so much fun writing "The Spatula Test: Another Misplaced Citrus" and the response to it was so great, I couldn't stay away from trying my hand at another one. So here is the next Kami and Kusama serial lemon. A special thanks to Chiharu Moka for the suggestion of the nurse's costume.
So this is a fun romp with lots of general naughtiness and then a lovely slide into sweet sensual sex. Junjou Egoist, with cameos by Romantica and Terrorist.
If you are offended by adultl content or are of an age where you should not be reading such material, I ask that you close out of this story now. I also respectfully ask that if you have issue with the content of my fics or any other aspect of them, that you please PM me and do not report this story to FF. That way the people who enjoy reading such stories may continue to do so.
WARNING: Seme Nowaki and Seme Hiroki... Hooray for versatility!
Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters.
Chapter One: Catalog
It was a miserable Monday morning. At least that was Hiroki's first thought after spending a wonderful weekend with Nowaki and now finding himself faced with another week of teaching the cream of Tokyo's mediocrity.
This realization so depressed him that for a moment, he seriously entertained rolling back over and falling asleep. But then, considering how attentive Nowaki had been that weekend to all of his particular needs, Hiroki decided to give the man a break and get up even though Nowaki had only tried to rouse him ten times so far.
While it was true that there were times when he really was seriously impossible to awaken, there were also times, not as infrequent as one might think, when he was completely conscious of Nowaki's gentle attempts to wake him.
Sometimes, in fact, Hiroki kept track. He even had a little journal going on his laptop where he cataloged the cutest and most creative of his overgrown partner's antics in this particular aspect of their relationship. He had this journal hidden within several layers of folders. He would have been mortified if anyone ever found out he was given to such a sentimental practice, especially Nowaki.
Hiroki yawned, stretched, got up, and quietly opened the bedroom door. Peering out, he could clearly see his lover.
Nowaki was sitting at their dining room table with his back to him. The younger man was wearing only his pajama bottoms and the visible glory of his naked torso stirred Hiroki's heart and threatened to stir some other places too. Hiroki found himself transfixed as he looked upon Nowaki's wonderful physique.
How he loved Nowaki's broad shoulders.
I ought to.
Hiroki blushed thinking about the amount of time he'd spent with his legs draped over them the last two days.
Hiroki looked down, an automatic response to his embarrassment, only to suddenly realize he was wearing the top of Nowaki's pajamas and nothing else.
How in the hell did this happen?
He clearly remembered both of them going to bed in their own gear. Hiroki was suddenly curious if there had ever been a medical study done to determine if too much sex could cause short term memory loss.
Hiroki set his consternation to the side, interested to find out what was holding Nowaki's attention so intensely. As he glided silently up behind Nowaki, he could see that the man was reading something, something that he obviously found very engrossing.
He wondered what it might be. A new medical text or journal perhaps? Hiroki felt a small swell of pride at how hard his partner worked to keep on top of the latest medical trends.
Maybe it was one of those ridiculous shoujo manga that Nowaki liked to read: the ones he kept secreted in a box in the closet, hidden. Nowaki didn't know that sometimes during lonely nights while he was at work, if Hiroki wasn't in the mood to reread the love letters Nowaki had written him while he was in America, he would pull these manga out and read them too as a way of being close to the big dork.
If it was the shoujo, this could provide a wonderful opportunity for him to do some serious teasing.
Hiroki was almost smiling, that was, until he peeked over his lover's inky head and saw what Nowaki really was looking at.
It actually took Hiroki a moment to process what he was seeing. Once he realized what the object of Nowaki's careful contemplation was, however, his eyes widened in horror and then narrowed as a fierce scowl furrowed his brow.
Hiroki took a step back, crossed his arms over his chest, and said in a very casual voice. "Good Morning, Nowaki."
Nowaki shot up as if he'd just been poked with a cattle prod. Hiroki noted that it was a good thing he'd stepped away, as the man knocked his chair completely over in his hurry to stand up. The cosplay catalog that he'd been studying fluttered like a wounded bird to the floor beside his feet.
"Uhh, Hiro-san…" Nowaki rubbed his shaggy black head. "What are you doing up already? I've only tried to wake you up…"
"Ten times so far, yeah I know." Hiroki was looking at Nowaki the same way he did at his students when they were engaged in forbidden activities, like daring to talk or text in class. The Demon was pleased to find that this expression had the same effect on his overgrown lover as it did his pupils: Nowaki was frozen in terror.
"So, what were you reading there, Nowaki?" Hiroki bent down to pick up the perverted periodical.
"Ummm, Hiro-san, you really don't need to look at that. Uhhh, it's nothing really." Nowaki stuttered a bit as he reached forward and tried to snatch the magazine out of Hiroki's hands, but the professor was too quick for him.
Hiroki, flipped through the pages, nonchalantly as he began walking into the kitchen toward the cupboard where they put the trash and recycling. He managed to keep his calm until he noticed that his giant had gone to the trouble of circling certain items.
"What in the hell is this, Nowaki?"
Nowaki was still standing; his head hung down in what Hiroki hoped was an attitude of shame. Then Hiroki noticed to his dismay, that now Nowaki was upright, there was one part of the man that did not seem ashamed at all and was in fact, raised up at the moment quite proudly, tenting his pajama bottoms.
"Nothing," Nowaki said softly.
"Well, it sure as hell doesn't look like nothing to me!" Hiroki waved his hand between the offending magazine and Nowaki's offending member. "What is it with you and costumes?"
Nowaki looked at Hiroki sheepishly.
"I don't know, Hiro-san. I just like thinking about you in different ways I guess. Imagining you in a costume just makes you seem so sexy." Then seeing Hiroki's eyes narrow even further, he added, "Not that you aren't sexy all the time exactly the way you are, Hiro-san."
"Can it, pervert!" Hiroki barked. This morning he was impervious to Nowaki's flattery.
Well, almost. Hiroki blushed and dropped the catalog in the trash. "No more costumes."
Nowaki looked his partner like Hiroki had just told him he had decided to go out and murder a hundred kittens.
"But I thought you had fun the last time we played, Hiro-san." Nowaki looked incredibly sad.
Hiroki had thought he had reached the extent of his ability to blush, but apparently not. He felt a new wave of heat roll over him as he recalled their last "play date." They had romped so hard that the costume had been destroyed and he couldn't sit properly for days afterwards.
"I did," Hiroki admitted cautiously. Then realizing he was being swayed, he snapped out of it. "Nowaki, are you unhappy with our sex life?"
Nowaki looked shocked. "No, Hiro-san, of course not, except…" He hesitated.
"Sometimes I wish we could do it more often."
"What are you talking about, dumb-ass!" Hiroki sputtered, "We have sex almost every night, or day, that we have any real time together."
"Yes, Hiro-san but usually only once."
"Well, don't we make up for that on the weekends? Look at the last two days. How much do you expect me to take and still be mobile?" Hiroki asked indignantly.
Now it was Nowaki who was blushing. "Well, Hiro-san, you could always…"
Hiroki was shocked when he realized what Nowaki was alluding to. "Nowaki, are you asking me to...?"
"You're always so shy, Hiro-san. You should be more confident sometimes, you really have no need to feel…"
The earnestness in Nowaki's voice was almost painful to Hiroki. His brow took on a new furrow; he did not like where this conversation was heading.
Nowaki stopped himself from saying anything further. He sensed Hiro-san's discomfort and wondered if he hadn't already said too much. Nowaki inwardly sighed; he knew he needed to redirect the conversation before his partner got too upset.
He decided to go with an old standard.
"Hiro-san, can we get a puppy?"
"What?" Hiroki was flummoxed by Nowaki's sudden question. "No, you cannot get a puppy, you giant goof! We've been over this a million times!
Nowaki hung his head as though defeated, but internally he allowed himself a sly smile.
"Go take your shower, Nowaki, and I'll fix breakfast. It's my turn anyway." Hiroki waved Nowaki and all his crazy requests away.
"Or we could skip breakfast and you could join me, Hiro-san." Nowaki's sly smile had crept from the inside out. His blue eyes beckoned enticingly from beneath shaggy bangs.
"No, horndog! I have to meet Miyagi early to go over some thesis proposals. So you better take care of yourself or make sure that shower is freezing. I want to see that dragon sleeping by the time you come back out for breakfast."
Hiroki stopped cold, shocked to hear his alter ego, Kami's, nickname for Nowaki's cock come out of his mouth.
Nowaki caught it too and his whole body suddenly seemed to glow.
"What are you waiting for?" Hiroki growled. "Go!"
Nowaki sighed, slumped, and dimmed, but he obediently headed off in the direction of the bathroom.
Hiroki shook his wild auburn head. He knew Nowaki had thrown out the puppy question as a diversion, and to be honest, he had been glad for it.
He frowned thinking about Nowaki's first request.
It wasn't as if Nowaki really ever asked him for anything, outside of that stupid puppy. The man always just seemed grateful to accept whatever he was offered. And while Nowaki could be annoying at times, he really was always so good about making sure that his Hiro-san was satisfied.
Hiroki felt a slight flush of shame knowing this generosity was not always equally returned.
Opening the cupboard under the sink, Hiroki and glanced down at the glossy pages winking at him from inside the bin. He started, when he heard Nowaki move from their bedroom where he had picked up his clothes into the bath.
Once he heard the bathroom door close and the water begin running, Hiroki sighed with relief and set about making breakfast, but not before Kami rose up, grabbed the catalog out of the trash, and stuck it in Hiroki's school bag.
"After sex, you always wear the pajama pants. Your uke will wear the shirt, lest he wishes to tempt you again with his perky, pink nipples." From The Seme Handbook from Dangerous Pleasure Scanlations. If you haven't read it, you definitely should.
Thank you for reading and please review.