Yes Junjou Network. This fic is exactly what it sounds like.
I'm not sure if I'll be stoned or if you all will love me more.
Oh well. I liked it XD
Funny notes at the end! Have fun weirdos.
"Thank you! Have a nice day!" The female cashier bubbled, still smiling at the face of the adorable young man who'd just picked up two bottles of wine. It clearly had been the kid's first time buying alcohol, but his license did say he was twenty-one so the clerk was more than happy to recommend some suitable draughts. The young man had explained that he was having dinner with his landlord and some of the man's friends and they needed something extra special.
The clerk glanced over to the elegant display placed prominently in the front of the store. She'd set it up few days ago and was rather proud of her work. Plus the new display shelves were perfect for the wine they'd just imported from a new company in France. They were branched off one of the biggest businesses in the country, and expected this new product to sell exceedingly well. The clerk hadn't tried it herself yet, but it had received rave reviews by the French (and hey, those people knew their wine), so it would surely be a winner here in Japan as well.
"Hanaka-kun," A voice called from the back. The clerk looked up as the owner from the store came in from the other room, looking a little disturbed.
"Have you sold any of the Beau le Elle today?" He asked. Hanaka was taken aback by the urgency in the normally amiable man's tone.
"Why yes sir, someone just bought two of them."
The older man's eyes went wide.
"What's the matter sir?" Hanaka asked, suddenly concerned.
"It may be nothing but… I just got a call from a man who bought that wine yesterday. Last night when he drank it he had something… unexpected happen. We don't know if it's the wine itself yet but… I don't know. Did he pay with a credit card? Maybe we can track them down and call before they open it."
Hanaka's face fell.
"He paid with cash." She said in horror. Oh no. Had she just sold that adorable like customer something awful?
The owner ran a couple fingers through his salt and pepper hair.
"It may have been just that one bottle but… well, let's just hope that nothing strange happens."
Ding Dong…Ding Dong…DING DONG…DING DONG…DING DING DING DING DING—
"Usagi-san! Please get off the bloody couch and let your friends in!" The twenty-one year old Misaki yelled from the kitchen, up to his eyebrows in steaming dishes and serving plates.
Akihiko rolled his eyes and begrudgingly got off the couch, wincing as the doorbell continued to ring nonstop.
"Cut that the crap out Hiroki!" The author barked as he threw the door open, glancing at his childhood friend and the tall dark-haired boyfriend whom he was forever velcroed to.
"Well if a certain moron would open his damn door when somebody RANG THE BELL maybe I wouldn't have to make my presence so apparent!" The fiery brunette roared back, growling as he tugged off his shoes with some difficulty.
"Good evening Usami-san," A much quieter (and more pleasant) voice called from behind the screamer.
"Good evening Kusama." Akihiko replied, exchanging curt nods with Nowaki. The tall man also took off his shoes (after steadying a certain brunette who was nearly tripping over his own feet) and followed the author into the living room.
"Misaki's almost done with dinner," Akihiko dryly commented, flopping back down next to a ribbon tied teddy bear. Hiroki and Nowaki sat down on the couch opposite.
"How's your new book coming old boy?" The author asked, lighting up a new cigarette.
"Well if a certain 'popular' author doesn't stop smoking around me, I'll die of lung cancer before I finish." Hiroki retorted, wrinkling his nose as the smell of the secondhand smoke.
"If you hate smokers so much Hiroki, then I suggest you move to a different country. Half of Japanese men smoke."
"I hate idiots even more, and half of Japanese men are that too. In fact, I think it's the same half."
Even though he knew he should chide his lover for speaking so rudely in another's house (when they hadn't even been there two minutes), Nowaki couldn't help but smile at Hiroki's comment.
"And my book is fine." The brunette snorted, crossing his arms and legs bad-temperedly.
The author, not amused, merely turned and asked Nowaki,
"So Kusama, Hiroki told me the other day that he's thought about introducing you to his parents. Have you met them yet—"
The silver-haired man ducked slyly as an outraged Hiroki chucked the nearest teddy bear at his childhood friend's head. The raven-haired man, meanwhile, looked at his lover in surprise and overflowing joy.
"Oh Hiro-san! I would LOVE to meet your parents! When are we going?"
"You'll pay for this Asshole-hiko!" Hiroki roared, trying to yell louder to cover up the rampant blush that was prancing over his cheeks.
The author chuckled in reply, and called into the kitchen.
"Are you ready yet Mi-kun?"
"Al-Almost!" The younger man called back. "Just getting wine glasses!"
A few more minutes of Hiroki glaring, Nowaki beaming, and Usagi smirking, the chocolate-haired twenty-one year old came out into the living room and bowed politely to the guests.
"Dinner is ready, if everyone wants to come into the other room."
"Thank you Misaki-kun," Nowaki smiled warmly. Misaki returned the smile, fidgeting with the edges of his apron. He led the way into the dinning room, casting more than a few glances at Akihiko's old friend and that friend's partner of over ten years.
Akihiko had officially introduced Misaki as his boyfriend to Hiroki six weeks ago. While the author had mentioned that he had gotten himself a roommate briefly, Hiroki had no idea that said roommate was Akihiko's lover and that said lover was also a (failing) student in Hiroki's fourth-year literature class.
Both parties had been stunned to say the least. Misaki also had no idea that his satanic lit teacher (who'd thrown more than a share of books at the student) was actually Usagi's oldest and probably closest friend. But that hadn't even been the end of the surprise.
The kicker was actually that said satanic professor was also gay and dating the towering person at the flower shop who'd sold Misaki the baby romantica roses he'd bought Akihiko for his award ceremony.
The world (or at least his portion of it) was considerably smaller than he'd thought.
But as unnerved/scared/utterly terrified as he was of Professor Kamijou, Misaki had made a considerable effort to be on friendly terms with the man, at least when they were with Akihiko. He found this effort made much easier when Kusama-san was around. Misaki (much to the distaste of a certain rabbit) was actually quite taken with Nowaki's sunshiny demeanor, and the two had become fast friends.
The author sat down at one corner of the table, and the guests sat together across from him. Misaki (all the while turning down Nowaki's offers for help) hurriedly made several trips to the kitchen and arranged the skillfully made dishes picturesquely on the table. Hiroki (who admitted that he truly, never should set foot in a kitchen) found himself slightly amazed that the lackluster college student had put restaurant quality dishes together for them.
If only he put as much effort in his schoolwork.
"This looks wonderful Misaki-san," Nowaki praised, making Misaki smile bashfully again.
"Oh, it's nothing Kusama-san. Just something I threw together."
"Please Misaki-san," The doctor smiled. "Call me Nowaki."
"Well, if you insist Nowaki-san." The younger man grinned back.
"Mi-kun, sit down and join us." Akihiko cut in, snaking an arm around his lover's thin waist.
"Usagi-san," Misaki whispered in protest, lightly shoving the author's hand away as he took his seat next to him.
"Oh yes," The green-eyed college student said. "Would everyone like wine now or with dessert?"
"Save it for dessert, Misaki," The author replied, running his fingers lightly through his lover's wispy chocolate locks (making sure to throw several dark glances at Nowaki). Misaki subtly brushed the man's arm away again and began to serve his landlord and guests rice followed by the entrees.