New fandom, hooray! Junjou Romantica is the rightful property of Nakamura Shungiku. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine. Warning for... Volume 7 spoilers, I suppose. Just in case you didn't know they actually did end up in a relationship or something, haha.

Takatsuki Shinobu had never really liked doing things for other people, until he had started to date Miyagi. He'd never really been that close to anyone else before (even his own family), and thus he had some rather amusing ideas on what he thought would please Miyagi.

He did, however, always appreciate when Miyagi showed affection towards him for what he did for them both.

He always had dinner on the table when Miyagi got home. His cooking skills had improved with practice, somewhat; he could now cook meat without it burning to a crisp, and he was learning how to stir-fry bok choy and carrot to what Miyagi described as 'perfect tenderness'. He was still studying literature, despite the strain that his law degree put on his free time; he was now up around the level of a second-year student in proficiency, and whenever Miyagi told him they had plenty of time to go through the material, Shinobu ignored him and continued revising. He learned to do domestic things like washing, ironing and cleaning; things he'd never had to do before in his life, thanks to his wealthy family, but he made his best efforts despite Miyagi insisting that he could clean his own apartment, which led to Shinobu huffing for three days and thinking that Miyagi didn't appreciate his help.

"Shinobu," Miyagi sighed, smiling tiredly and running his hand through his hair, "I appreciate your help, I really do, but you have your own apartment to take care of."

"We both know that it's practically only for show now," Shinobu replied, arms folded across his chest, "I spend more time in your apartment anyway."

"That's not the point," Miyagi said, feeling like he was already fighting a losing battle, "I don't want you to feel like you have to keep winning me over, or like you have to compete with anyone for me."

"Why would I feel that?" Shinobu asked, one eyebrow raised sarcastically, "Is that devil Kamijo making moves on you again? I should go over there and..."

"No, no, nothing like that," Miyagi snorted, reaching over to ruffle Shinobu's hair, "It's more like... there's no need to run when it's a one-horse race."

That caused Shinobu to blush madly, which led to Miyagi thinking about just how damn cute he was, which led to his mind wandering to just how cute he'd looked the night before when Miyagi has touched his-

"I'm sorry if I've made you mad," Shinobu said, cutting through his train of thought, "I'll try to make it up to you."

"Idiot," Miyagi said fondly, "You don't have to do that."

Shinobu opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Miyagi closed his eyes and sighed with relief. Seconds later, his eyes shot open and he leapt to his feet.

"What's wrong, Miyagi?" Shinobu asked.

"Did you leave the stir fry on the stove?"

"Shit!" Shinobu snapped, running into the kitchen to salvage the smouldering remains of their dinner. Miyagi sighed again, and reached for his half-empty pack of smokes.

He was going to die of lung cancer by the time he was forty at this rate.

"Miyagi? Are you asleep?"

"... I was," Miyagi grunted from somewhere under his pillows.

"Sorry," Shinobu apologized, and it was only when Shinobu's fingers tightened on Miyagi's shoulder that he realised that Shinobu was touching him at all.

"No need to be sorry," Miyagi yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "What's wrong? Is something troubling you? Did you have a scary dream?"

"I'm not a kid, Miyagi," Shinobu said, flushing such a bright shade of pink that he practically glowed.

"I know, I know," Miyagi chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling Shinobu onto his chest in one practiced motion. Shinobu placed his head against Miyagi's chest, listening to the soft, drowsy beating of his heart.

"Miyagi?"

"Yes, Shinobu-chin?"

"What do I do for you that pleases you?"

"Wha-?" Miyagi started, pausing to look utterly lost as to what Shinobu was trying to get at.

"I make you happy, right?"

"If you pissed me off more than I could stand, would I have spent the last three years dating you?"

"Be serious, Miyagi."

"I am," Miyagi chuckled, and Shinobu frowned and wrinkled his nose and Miyagi's breath disturbed his hair and made it tickle his face, "You've always made me happy by just being around."

"Not always!" Shinobu snapped, and Miyagi marvelled at the way Shinobu managed to look at everything in such a pessimistic manner.

"Well, no, not always," Miyagi replied, stroking Shinobu's bare back, "But not everyone can say they loved someone with their whole heart from the moment they saw them."

"I can," Shinobu said, sounding strangely smug.

"So you're saying your love for me hasn't grown since we started dating?"

"I'm not saying Ithat/I," Shinobu said, propping himself up on his elbows, "I'm just saying the limits on my love have broadened with time and I can now love you more."

"Now you're making it sound like you're playing a video game, Shinobu-chin" Miyagi grinned, and Shinobu couldn't help but grin back.

"You feeling better now?"

"A little," Shinobu said, lying down against Miyagi's chest again.

"Good," Miyagi nodded, leaning over, intending to place a kiss to the top of his lover's head; Shinobu's lips met him halfway.

"But you still haven't answered my question, Miyagi."

"Err, well, what specific thing did you have in mind?"

"Anything, really."

"Well, umm," Miyagi started, a multitude of options running through his head as Shinobu's eyes narrowed with every second that he hesitated, "I really like it when... you cook dinner for me, I suppose?"

"When I cook for you?" Shinobu questioned, eyebrow quirked in a mirror of his sarcastic expression earlier than night.

"Yeah, I mean, it's really nice to come home to a warm meal, you know?"

"When I cook for you..." Shinobu repeated, frowning.

"Did I say something wrong?" Miyagi asked, feeling stupider by the minute.

"Understood. Starting..." Shinobu paused to look at the bedside clock, "... later today, I will cook all of your meals for you."

"Y-you don't have to do that!" Miyagi said.

"I will," Shinobu said.

"Why?"

"Because I want to," Shinobu said stubbornly, rolling off Miyagi and snuggling down into the blankets, "Prepare to be loved by me."

Miyagi nodded and rolled over, feeling as if it were an ominous threat rather than a display of affection.

The next morning (a Sunday, the one day the two of them got time off), Miyagi rolled over to hug Shinobu awake only to realise he was alone. After the initial moment of panic, he heard noise from the kitchen, and sighed; tossing his pillow back over his eyes so he could doze until Shinobu returned from doing whatever he was doing.

The next thing he knew, Miyagi felt himself being shaken awake.

"Wake up, Miyagi," Shinobu said. Miyagi tossed the pillow off his face to look at Shinobu, who was standing over him in an almost menacing manner. The younger man's expression was serious as he thrust the plate in his hand at Miyagi's face.

"Eat."

Miyagi looked at the charred, round objects on the plate and swallowed.

"What is it?"

"Pancakes, of course," Shinobu said, "I read in a cooking magazine that everyone likes breakfast in bed."

Miyagi looked from Shinobu to the pancakes, and then back from the pancakes to Shinobu.

"Say... how about we go out for breakfast?"

END