*Hiroki's Perspective*

Hiroki stopped dead in his tracks. He'd just arrived back to his apartment complex and was about to bury himself in his bedsheets and fall asleep, when suddenly he was face to face with the Bastard himself; Kusama Nowaki, waiting right outside his door.

This can't be happening...

Nowaki saw him, and stood up. He looked tired and worn out, as though he had been walking for awhile. He looked just about ready to crash.

Don't say anything. Just keep cool. He must be delirious or something coming back here so fast...

Hiroki wordlessly walked towards his front door, avoiding Nowaki's focused, yet neutral gaze. Hiroki actually saw his lips curl into a small smile. If he tries to touch me I'll wipe that damn smile off his face.

"Sorry. I thought I'd wait here for you.."

"Something you want?" Hiroki replied in a totally flat voice, as he fished for his key in his pocket.

"May I stay here tonight?" He asked, rather boldly. "I lost the key to my apartment, and I can't seem to get in touch with my landlord..."

Serves you right, bastard.

Hiroki said nothing, but didn't shut the door behind him. Nowaki, knowing Hiroki as well as he did, took that as a hint that he could stay.

I don't like it...but I guess I can't just leave him.

"Sorry to intrude." Nowaki added modestly, as he took his suitcase and pulled it inside the threshhold.

As soon as Hiroki sat down, he took a slug of water from his water bottle and opened a newspaper, not so much as giving a second glance at Nowaki, who stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Let's see what he tries to say..."

"Hiro-san..." He began. "I want to apologize for not contacting you until now...I sent you a postcard shortly after I arrived in the U.S. You got it, didn't you?"

Hiroki didn't answer, seething. So much for my "lost at the post office" theory. He really never sent a single letter.

"So, what prompted you to go all the way to America anyway?" He asked casually.

"Huh? I told you." Nowaki replied. "Their pedriatic medicine is advanced in a lot of ways, so I went to study..."

First time I'm hearing about it.

Then, Hiroki heard the crinkle of a paper bag being placed beside him. "I got you a souvenir." Nowaki said, in a soft voice. It was obvious how desperate he was for Hiroki to at least look at him, but Hiroki stood his ground.

"Thanks." He said briefly, eyes still on his paper.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Nowaki look towards the doorway. Is the bastard finally going to take a hint?

"Would it be all right if I used your shower? I haven't bathed in three days so..."

"Go right ahead." Hiroki replied, his voice flat. As soon as he saw Nowaki retreat, he picked up the bag.

Nowaki, you idiot. If you had time to buy me some measly trinket, why didn't you give me a single phone call?

Hiroki opened the bag and pulled out a small panda figurine holding a tiny American flag. It was cute, but it only pissed off Hiroki more.

I'm not saying you should never leave me, or go study abroad, I'm just shocked that I was the only one who didn't know..."

"Hiro-san! I'm sorry, but what happened to your hot water?" Nowaki suddenly called from the bathroom.

"Hell should I know!" Hiroki called back angrilly, slamming down the figurine in frustration. Suddenly, a twinge of sadness shot through him like an arrow.

At least show some remorse, you moron!

He heard the water turn off, then a few hollow footsteps, and then a sentence that finally made him turn around.

"I'll leave."

"Huh?" Hiroki spun around to look at him.

"I'm sorry I imposed on you like this?"

He-he's just going to leave! "L-leave? And go where?" Hiroki stuttered.

"Oh its fine. I'll figure out something." Nowaki said, trying to sound reassuring. "You seem to be busy now anyway, so I'll come back another time. Goodbye."

Hiroki watched as his hand landed on the handle, and a sense of pure panic rushed through his veins, fueled his movements, made his legs function as his heart nearly burst.

No! Don't go! Not again!"

SLAM.

Hiroki had launched himself against the door, and now held it closed with his one outstretched hand. His forehead was tilted forward against Nowaki's broad back, and he could'nt reclaim control of his muscles. It was though he was frozen in place. Except for his heart, which was pounding madly.

God...look at me...I must look like a fool...but I just could'nt watch him leave again...

Nowaki said nothing, nor did he move. Hiroki felt the dampness of his back on his forehead. He realized how hot and exhausting the long walk from his apartment to Hiroki's must have been, and he felt the tears threaten to seize him.

Time and again I'd considered moving...but I never did because of this tiny hope...that if I stayed...you would come back...straight back here...to me...

Nowaki's Perspective

Hiro-san?

Hiroki was holding the door closed, not saying a word. It was clear he was embarassed it. Saying this wasn't like him would be the understatement of the century.

But it was happening. Hiroki had stopped him from leaving.

Originally he had simply planned to come back when Hiroki was in a better mood, and he seemed as though he hadn't felt like talking anyway, so why did he do this now?

Is it because...he really didn't want me to go?

Does this mean...he will forgive me for whatever I did?

"Hiro-san..." Nowaki muttered in a voice lower than a whisper. He reached out and rested a hand against Hiroki's, who still didn't say anything. But he didn't pull his hand away either.

His hand...it's cold.

I'll warm him up...

With a burst of courage he pulled Hiroki from behind him and trapped him against the door, kissing him fiercely. Rather than resisting as he might have normally, Hiroki moaned and clutched Nowaki's shirt. Nowaki moved closer to him, suddenly taking the hand that held the black cloth of his shirt and threading his fingers through it. It felt so wonderful to hold Hiroki's hand again. So perfect. So right. The two of them slid to the floor, Nowaki wrapping his arms around his beautiful Hiroki.

"Oh Hiro-san...I missed you!" He whispered while, against his better instincts, sliding a hand underneath Hiroki's shirt. He heard Hiroki gasp, and suddenly push him away.

"Don't you joke with me dammit!" He cried, but Nowaki caught his arm and gazed into his eyes.

"Hiro-san."

He moved closer to him, as Hiroki tried to turn away from his lips, but Nowaki knew Hiroki better. He could practically feel his spirit about to crack with need. He lifted his hand up to Hiroki's face and slowly turned it back towards his. Their lips met softly at first, but soon the kiss became more passionate and unrestrained. Niether of them could hold back anymore. Nowaki was so happy, so relieved. So blissful, holding his beautiful Hiro-san close to him. It looked as though everything would finally go back to the way it should be.