My first chaptered Junjou Romantica fic. As you can see, the summary has changed and I also corrected a few typos. This fic is rather Hiroki-centric as you can probably guess.

It takes different turn from the manga so I guess you could call it slightly AUish. Pairings are the normal canon Nowaki/Hiroki, Shinobu/Miyagi, Usami/Misaki with Miyagi/Hiroki added for flavour. I hope you enjoy it.

What the rain says

- Hiroki -

XX

"This must be what a drowned rat looks like. I bet your underwear is soaked," he says, laughing through the corner of his mouth so that his cigarette does not fall.

"It's fine," I tell him limply, but it's a lie. It is not fine. I'm not fine. I'm soaking, drenched to the bone and numb with cold, my clothes and hair reeking of rain water and that familiar, damp smell. It's not fine at all.

Damn, fucking Nowaki, standing me up like that and leaving me alone for hours, just waiting like an idiot! I want to curse him, but I can't. My head is swimming. It must have been the rain. Maybe I'll catch something and die.

The thought makes me want to laugh, though there's nothing really funny about it. Yet I'm feeling so wretched and pathetic right now, I'll laugh at anything.

He reaches for the ashtray to snuff out his cigarette. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Get dumped?"

There. See? Another one of Professor Miyagi's asinine comments and it sets off a smile. I chuckle, soon I'll be rolling in hysterics. What's wrong? I know you had a meeting with someone but you've come crawling back, soaking wet. Could it be? It may be impossible, but did you, perhaps…get dumped?

Brilliant.

"What?" I laugh. "Please don't joke, like that professor!" I hear my own voice shaking. The towel Miyagi has deposited on my head feels unnaturally heavy, but as I look up something warm and wet slides down my cheek. Rain water is not meant to be warm.

I realise that they're tears a little too late. My hand shoots up to hide them, I turn around, but it's too late. Even with my back to him, I can feel Miyagi's shocked stare burning me.

"I'm sorry! I just…It's nothing," I rush to apologise, making some lame excuse. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. All I feel is the intense embarrassment at being caught in tears, and by my superior no less. The shame sharply stings and only adds to my further feeling of wretchedness. I'm twenty-eight years old and a man at that! The only times I'm supposed to cry are when my parents die, my house burns down, or my wife leaves me.

Well, I suppose the last one is pretty much impossible.

How pathetic. How completely and utterly stupid. I'm so pathetic, getting all upset about being abandoned and then crying about it. I don't want to think about Nowaki or what he could possibly be doing right now, or why he did not arrive. Go away! Go away stupid thoughts and stop tormenting me! I'm not a girl. I don't want to think about the last time I saw him, or the last time he kissed me, or the last time he held me.

Upon that last thought, a pair of arms wrap around me. They're not Nowaki's. I feel a little bitter that my first thought was; 'it's not Nowaki' and not 'who the hell is this bastard touching me?' Those arms surround me and pull me against a hard chest. I freeze upon contact. There's a hand against my head and another on my waist; large, warm hands that I imagine are probably a little rough and probably calloused.

"Kamijou," Miyagi's voice is near my ear, his breath smells of cigarette smoke. Oh God, my heart skips a beat and I tense up even more. "You know," he speaks in a low voice, totally bereft of humour. Was his voice this deep before? "You're so occupied with your impenetrable armour that you don't realise it's full of holes."

I'm not comfortable with such a close proximity. His arms are around me, leaving me no room to squirm, his face is too close to mine. I wish he would back away a little, I don't want him to hear my heart pounding or feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. What does he think he's doing anyway? I don't know whether I should try to break free or not. I don't know if I should move. I think I might be trembling.

"Professor, please let go," I tell him.

He refuses. Bluntly. I feel his fingers brush over my skin, a strong grip wrapping around my wrist. Before I can move, I'm whipped around. A hand on my chin, tilting it up, I can see his face clearly as he moves closer, his lips part, mouth widens and so do my eyes.

A momentary thought about Nowaki passes through my head briefly before all thoughts suddenly become occupied with the lips pressed against mine and the man who is kissing me at this very moment.

Those limbs that were frozen suddenly snap into motion. I push him back and stumble against the wall myself, struggling for breath. Now my head is really swimming. What the hell did he do that for? Was it some sort of comfort kiss? Don't pity me, dammit! Don't make me feel worse than I already do!

"Wh - what the hell was that?" I ask him, bewildered, but Miyagi simply steps forward.

"Kamijou," he stops just in front of me. His eyes are dead serious and he's not smiling. Although I don't want to admit it, it's putting me on edge. His hand reaches for my wrist again and I flinch but he catches me anyway.

"P - Professor Miyagi! What do you think you're doing!" I try sounding cross but it's a piss poor attempt and he probably sees through it anyway.

"Kamijou, you were crying because of that guy, right?" My flinch proves him right. "Honestly, I can't leave you alone. It's okay, don't worry. I'll help you get over it."

I open my mouth to protest but it's swiftly occupied by Miyagi again. I tell myself to stop but my hands are clinging to his shirt and refusing to let go. I can feel his hands through my hair, his lips against mine, I feel his tongue flick against the roof of my mouth and his body pressed against mine, I feel my own hand against the side of his face and Miyagi's warm skin. I feel, and everything becomes a blur of sensations. I don't think I can see. I hear a faint moan and realise it's me but at this point I'm beyond being embarrassed about it.

Enough already. I fling myself over the edge, into the sea where every touch and sound is a bombardment. I don't really want to feel anything anymore but I suppose feeling too much is the next best thing, so I let Miyagi kiss me and touch me and press his body against mine. My fingers slip away and my hands fall to my side as he pulls away, smiling faintly.

Then it occurs to me that we may have had a spectator.

The hazy delirium I was in shuts me out abruptly, leaving a cold and bitter sensation. Nowaki stands there, bewildered, betrayed, unable to move. A chill runs through me.

At last he opens his mouth to speak, but his voice comes out as a croak. "H - Hiro-san?" he barely manages my name. He has to pause and swallow before he can go on. Was it that much of a shock? No more than when I found out he had disappeared to America without telling me. "Hiro-san," he says, "what are you…why are you…what…"

Nowaki is shaking. I realise that both anger and hurt are the reason. I look away guiltily then berate myself for feeling guilty. He was the one who up and left me without a word! He was the one who stayed away for a whole year without contacting me! He was the one who left me to get soaked in the rain!

As if he can read my thoughts, Nowaki snaps out of his reverie. He can speak fluently now. I glance at Miyagi, who is standing there silently, through the corner of my eye, and he catches on to this.

"Hiro-san! What were you doing? Are you going out with that man?" he looks angry, though more at himself than at me. I can't imagine why. I was the one making out with my boss, not him.

He strides forward and grabs my wrist.

Then I snap too. I've had enough of the wrist-grabbing.

I snatch my hand back but since I'm backed against the wall, I can only edge away to the side. Closer to Miyagi.

Nowaki glowers at him. He looks murderous. I've never seen him like this. In fact, I've never seen him really angry before either. "Hiro-san!" he demands.

God, my head is hurting! I just want it to stop. I want all of these people to go away. I want all the noises to end, the sound of the rain, the sound of Nowaki's laboured breath - he must have run here - the sound of my own heart beating against my chest.

"What?" I snap at him. I tell myself that I won't forgive him for standing me up. He was the one who left me, and yet he looks at me as if I've betrayed him. "What the hell do you want? I broke up with you already and yet you call me out just to leave me in the rain for hours and then come charging in here like a brat! You go off to America without a word and then suddenly appear as if nothing's happened!"

He has the decency to look guilty at first but at the mention of America he cries; "I told you about America!"

"Yeah right! As if I wouldn't remember something as important as that! You never said a word to me!" I snap back. Miyagi just stands there, watching with a frown.

This is why I don't have to worry about Miyagi. He's an adult. He knows when not to get involved, when not to cross the line. He knows when it would be best to leave someone alone. Unlike someone. Unlike someone who suddenly came charging into my world, leaving it just as suddenly.

"I did!" Nowaki insists. Perhaps it's the light, maybe it's because I can't think straight but he looks almost desperate.

"I don't remember a thing!" I snort

"You just forgot!"

I bristle. Don't screw with me! Don't try to pin the blame on me! This is your fault, Nowaki. You were the one who left me! Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hurt I was? You don't have a clue, do you? You don't get it at all!

Except I can't say all of those things. It's too embarrassing, it's too close to home, it's too truthful, so instead I scream "Liar!" at him and charge off.

"Hiro-san!" he cries one last, desperate time. I feel his fingers against my hand but he misses my wrist and I manage to escape capture. Throwing myself into the corridor, I burst into a run but Nowaki's cries echo down the deserted hall, haunting me no matter how hard I try to escape them. The sound of his voice, so strong and distressed, edged with hurt, chasing after me even as I leave the university.

Goodbye, Nowaki. I don't ever want to see you again. I can't handle seeing you again.

As the rain continues, I'm pretty sure I'm crying but my skin feels stiff and cold that maybe the rain just seems warm against it.

Thanks for reading. Comments and crit are greatly appreciated. (Which summary was better I wonder?)