So for those of you interested in my Avatar fic… this is entirely different. Sorry! *hides* I know I should be working on Fuseki.

Fandom: crossover with Monster and 20th Century Boys
Pairings: Fukubei/Tenma, eventual Johan/Tenma, semi-OMC/Tenma (... yes Tenma is my fandom bicycle, shush)
Warnings: will be R in parts, references to NCS

A/N: Fukubei is Hattori. Hattori is Fukubei. Just to clear that up for people~. There WILL be spoilers for the all of Monster and quite a bit of 20CB in this (up till New Year's). There will also be incorporation of information from Another Monster, but you don't have to read it to understand the story.

This fic takes place several months after the end of Monster and is Tenma-centric, in a way.

Also... Interested in finding a new rp partner. PM me if you're interested at all!

---

To Johan, it was barely yesterday since the last day of his life.

The seasons had changed, as had the year – but he had no memory of it, of course. No memory of anything except the end of the world and blessed dark, and then Doctor Tenma, once again sitting by his bed, talking to him in that quiet way he had.

His end of the world was over. He knew that, but it left him feeling lost, with no direction. It was then that things started to make sense, strangely enough. And it was then, that he knew what he would do, and that was why he left the hospital.

It wasn't easy to leave – his body was weakened severely by the coma. It was harder to regain his strength, but without it he wouldn't be able to be anything or do anything… and that was unacceptable. It was his turn to act, and he could not do that while weak or imprisoned.

---

Hattori hated sitting in coach normally. It was crowded, it smelled like feet, and people were rude. It made him feel like wiping out humanity would be the most sane, just thing to do – if this was what humanity was, they were a blight.

This time, however was different. The flight wasn't absolutely full for once, and he had an aisle seat – not as cramped as normal. But that wasn't what made the flight interesting… there was someone absolutely fascinating that he couldn't take his eyes off of.

The man he was watching sat tensely on the plane, an unread medical journal in his lap, his too-thin frame pressed to the wall as he stared out the window. Ragged, overlong hair fell around his face. He seemed to be watching the arrival of land with a morbid fascination, completely still, though before he had been distractedly drumming his fingers on the armrest.

Hattori had been watching him the whole flight, but the man seemed too caught up in his own thoughts to notice. He has lost, dark, familiar eyes that had a way of seeing everything one moment and being blind the next, and the dazed, distracted air of a wartime doctor – physically and mentally bruised by what he had done and seen and dreading a worse future.

In a way – Hattori smiled to himself – that was an entirely apt metaphor. He recognized the other man of course, although he wasn't as famous anymore, his picture had been in the papers for over a year at one time. He doubted, however that he himself would be recognized when the doctor finally took notice of him, (which he would) after all, grown men rarely recognize their childhood acquaintances.

The two seats next to the other man were empty, so he ignored the seatbelt sign and rose, settling down next to the doctor who started, looking at him sharply with suspicious, exhausted eyes.

"Tenma-sensei?" He smiled charmingly, something that made the other man tense even more. Hattori simply handed him the newspaper he was reading, a Japanese newspaper with a small article about the doctor's homecoming, then leaned over him to gently pull the windowshade shut.

"If you are a reporter, you're wasting your time." His words were a strange mix of tired, clipped, and hesitant. It made Hattori smile just a little, realizing how very long Tenma had been out of Japan, to make his own language sound so foreign to him.

"Nothing of the sort," he reassured him quickly. "I was simply worried – you look so upset. I know you never liked home, but is it really worth all this?"

The doctor's frown got even deeper, obviously angry and off-guard. Hattori was being deliberately rude, and it didn't surprise him when the other man turned from him, slamming the window open again. It made him chuckle a little, quickly speaking again. "Tenma-san, don't be angry with me… or don't you recognize your old classmate?"

He reached over Tenma again, resting his hand over his briefly, slipping a card into it. Lingering for a moment, testing him, and withdrawing innocently when the first sign of discomfort appeared in the other's frown.

Tenma looked down at the card in his hand, reading it. Repeating Hattori's name slowly, relaxing a touch with each syllable and then finally looking up at him, the suspicion mostly clearing out of his eyes. Hattori caught his breath for a moment, finding to his surprise a gentle, magnetic pull to the other.

"I'm sorry if I upset you earlier." His words were soft, almost curious. He rarely ever apologized and even more rarely meant it. Strange that his old acquaintance could get an honest apology out of him without even trying.

Tenma shook his head, just a little flushed with embarrassment. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired. It's been a long flight."

Hattori nodded, leaning over to gently close the window again, this time to focus the other's attention on him, almost to distract him, rather than to annoy him. "Not only the flight, I'm sure. But really, you are making me worry. You seem to be so upset to be going home. I would have guessed you would be eager to be out of the spotlight."

Tenma shrugged stiffly, slipping the journal into his small bag, pushing it back under the seat. "Home was never a comfortable place for me, as you pointed out earlier. And it has been quite some time."

Hattori nodded a little, slowly, a plan slowly taking shape in his mind.

Tenma Kenzo was a brilliant doctor, after all. And he had use for brilliant doctors.

The rest of the flight passed quickly, Hattori doing his best to put Tenma at ease. Insisting on hailing a cab for the two of them, since they lived relatively close together, after all, he helped the other with his luggage -- surprisingly little for someone moving home from over a decade living on an entirely different continent.

Tenma got more distracted as they got closer to his family's mansion, until the cab paused there, waiting. Hattori smiled to himself a bit, glad he had decided to go there first. Tenma just staring up at the house, sitting still so long that the cabbie cleared his throat just a little, politely. He reached over, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "If you'd rather not face them tonight, I have a very comfortable couch..."

The doctor looked back at him, frowning a little, looking wary again in the half-light of the moon and streetlamps. "Are you sure I wouldn't be a burden?"

"Of course you wouldn't. It's the least I can do for an old friend." He leaned forward, giving the taxi driver a new destination, and settled back into his seat.

And so it was that Tenma Kenzo, the brilliant neurosurgen, ended up on his couch splitting a bottle of sake with him that night. His face had relaxed finally, eyes still a little haunted, but no longer suspicious or fearful. Hattori, faced with the same unusual draw to the doctor found himself enjoying their time. He originally had planned to simply seduce Tenma, then send him home and maintain the relationship from a distance. Now, however, he found himself contemplating something a bit more. Perhaps even like his relationship with Kiriko, without all the mess of wedding plans and pregnancy.

Doctors made good companions -- too busy to resent his own busy schedule, too focused to look very hard at his alibis.

----

When he had regained himself enough, Tenma had already gone. Johan was thrown by the decision to go back to Japan, instead of the MSF. Tenma, as far as he could determine, had not told anyone why.

It was a decision that didn't sit right with him, for some reason. He always had these gut instincts that served him well when it came to self-preservation. Never before had Johan had a feeling like that before in regards to anyone but himself and Anna, though.

To reassure himself, he researched what he could about Tenma in Germany, but it seemed that he had been very tight-lipped about his family and his life in Japan. All that he found out was were the doctor was from and that Tenma had come from a family of doctors – his father a small medical practitioner, his older brother another doctor. .

Even Tenma's life in Germany was a frustratingly closed book. Other than the fiancée, there were no ex-girlfriends to exploit, no close friends. Certainly no one who wouldn't recognize him and try to hand him over to the police and he really did not want to hassle with that right now.

So he began studying Japanese – trusting his own ability to learn languages to get him through – and bought a plane ticket.

----

Nearly two weeks after he had arrived in Japan, Tenma was still sleeping on his couch, a fact which pleased Hattori to no end. The doctor had called his father out of some sense of guilt, and had started working almost immediately at the family hospital. He seemed resigned to the almost backwards career move, even though Hattori had tried to convince him to apply at other hospitals in the area. It wasn't so bad, he supposed; Tenma would eventually inherit the hospital. It could be a position of power.

Tenma was cooking when Hattori came in from his own business. The doctor had obviously just woken up, hair mussed, shirt a bit wrinkled. He had been working hard -- at work for nearly thirty-six hours straight, and he had only gotten home late last night, so this was unsurprising. Hattori smiled, helping him a little by getting out plates, amused at his own domesticity.

"Do you mind?" Tenma asked, a little out of the blue.

"Mind what?" Hattori looked over from the bottle of wine he was opening.

"That I've practically moved in here." Tenma looked a bit sheepish, turning off the stove. "Really, I feel like I've abused your hospitality terribly."

Hattori smiled, pouring Tenma a glass of wine and handing it to him. "I wondered how long it would take you to ask." Tenma obviously embarrassed at that. "Of course I don't mind. Honestly.. it's been nice to have someone else around. Ever since my wife left me..." He trailed off, pouring his own glass and turning his face away some. Knowing, vaguely, that Tenma's fiancée had left him several years ago and hoping this would strike a chord with him. The other hadn't, to his knowledge, dated since after all.

"Oh. I'm so sorry.." Tenma replied softly. Sipping his wine, awkwardly.

He shook his head a little, smiling weakly. "It's just the way things go. We married too young." Gently, he nudged Tenma aside, taking it upon himself to serve them both a plate of food. "Anyway, I mean to say that… if you are happy here, I don't mind at all." Smiling slyly, deciding that it was high time they moved on from this in-between relationship. "Though I'm sure the couch must be getting a little uncomfortable."

Tenma shook his head a little, not getting the subtle meaning in that. "It's fine. Thank you." Taking his plate from Hattori, he went to sit at the table, waiting to be joined before starting to eat.

Hattori let it go for the duration of the meal, waiting until Tenma had a few glasses of wine. He had a very low tolerance for alcohol now -- Hattori suspected that he hadn't drank at all during his time on the run (a period of time that he was having difficulty curbing his curiosity about, since Tenma wouldn't talk about it at all, but patience, first things first..).

After the meal, they moved to the couch to watch the news – a sort of nighttime ritual they had fallen into. Hattori found himself staring at Tenma's hair, amused. It was longer than he had ever seen it, and it reminded him of the brief period of time that Tenma had been friends with Endou Kenji.

Kenji. Hattori smirked a little, though it was almost a grimace. After they had both left middle school, Kenji had thrown himself into music, contemplating a career in rock. Tenma had gone to the same very selective high school as Hattori, but had also been obsessed with music. It seemed ironic to him that Tenma looked more like a rockstar now than ever. "Your hair's gotten so long," he said quietly, leaning in a little.

Tenma flushed, sighing. "I know... I should cut it again soon. I just keep forgetting."

"I like it." He smiled. "Not forever, of course, but it makes you look more... wild, I suppose."

Tenma laughed dryly, setting the glass aside. "Unkempt is more like it."

"Dashing." He smiled softly, recognizing his moment and leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth slowly, prepared for the moment that Tenma inhaled sharply and pulled back, eyes wide and confused... but not angry or scared, he realized with satisfaction, letting himself babble a little. "I'm sorry, I just... that.. I must've drank too much."

Tenma took a moment to respond. Frowning a little, but shaking his head. "It's.. it's okay. I'm not angry."

"Still, I apologize. I.." he sighed for effect here, making sure he looked quite upset. "I don't mean to force my attraction onto you."

Tenma looked taken aback. "Your attraction?"

Hattori shrugged a little, pouring himself more wine... not at all drunk, but letting himself act it, knowing that Tenma would buy it, considering how drunk the latter was. "Honestly, I've been attracted to you since we met in school. But I never thought you'd be interested in me of all people." Hoping that he'd strike the right note with Tenma, acting self-depreciating and hesitant.

Sucking in a breath a little, Tenma obviously was just thinking. Letting it out after a moment. "You never mentioned it before...."

"I never thought you'd be interested in another man." Quietly, watching him, waiting for the right moment.

"It's not that, it's.. just..." Obviously searching for the right words. Hattori sighed softly and leaned in again, kissing him properly this time, catching Tenma's chin and tilting his head a little into it. Kissing him through the tension and uncertainty, until the other melted slowly and started kissing him back slowly. Hiding a victorious smile, he pulled back slowly, stroking Tenma's cheek.

"There doesn't have to be anything to it, if you want it. No expectations.."

Tenma nodded slowly – and Hattori allowed the slow, triumphant smile as the other leaned up to kiss him again.