Introduction: The Spatula Test Chapter 21

6/3/12 Hello All,

So, It's been a while since I posted this story, but that doesn't mean that I don't still like getting reviews on it from new readers (hint).

I had this request for a lemon, describing what happened with Hiroki and Nowaki and the Maid's Uniform after chapter twenty-one in "The Spatula Test." So here's what you have: Chapter Twenty-One as a refresher for the scene and then all new stuff after that.

If you know this chapter and just want to get straight into the action, I suggest you jump ahead to the next chapter.

I had planned to make the lemon short, like I did with the other "Spatula" lemon, but I have been having so much fun, instead of just a slice, you are getting a whole lemon pie, with lots of meringue, obviously. So there are actually now several chapters following this.

Just a note, the story wanders into some role play (at a reviewer's request) and also contains some bondage and a little light spanking for my own kicks and giggles.

Like I said before, I hope you will consider reviewing after all, Hiroki shouldn't have to be the only one having to beg here.

Hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading!

Sincerely,

Cerberus

Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of it Characters

Rated: M or NC-17

Contains: Occasional harsh language, sexual content: including roleplay and a little light bondage/spanking.

If such content offends you or you are of an age where such material is inappropriate, please close out of this story now. I humbly ask that if you have an issue with the content of my stories that you please PM me, rather than report the story to FF so that those who enjoy reading such works may continue to do so.

The Spatula Test – Another Misplaced Citrus: Panda Barrettes

(Introduction)

Chapter Twenty from The Spatula Test- What Confessions Are Maid Of

It was Saturday and though it was almost noon, all the blinds in the Kamijou-Kusama household remained uncharacteristically drawn.

Hiroki was standing at the stove cooking eggs for Nowaki.

The professor self-consciously put his hand to his forehead, feeling the black and white panda barrettes Nowaki had clipped into his still-damp hair to hold back his bangs after their bath together. The pandas, Nowaki had assured him repeatedly, were the perfect complement to the skimpy French maid's outfit he was wearing.

Nowaki emerged from the bathroom moments later looking clean and particularly bright. He was clad in only a towel, wrapped loosely around his trim waist. Hiroki, recognizing the look in the younger man's face, could tell that Nowaki did not expect to be wearing even this minimal attire for very long.

Hiroki blushed a lovely shade of pink and diverted his eyes back down to the eggs.

Nowaki was beaming with pleasure. He watched Hiro-san concentrating, as he labored over their breakfast. He was pleased to observe his lover's brow seemed relatively free from furrow this morning. Perhaps it was the panda barrettes. Regardless, Hiro-san looked crazy-adorable.

It had taken Nowaki three weeks since Hiroki's mother's visit and a fair amount of alcohol last night, to get Hiro-san to finally capitulate to his promise. Looking at his boyfriend now, standing barefoot in their kitchen, his hair pulled back from his lovely face, making his dark eyes deliciously visible; his lithe body filling out the crisp black and white satin frills of the maid's costume; Nowaki's heart was filled with happiness.

This was not the only place on Nowaki's tall body that was filled by this vision, however.

Nowaki entered the kitchen and glided up behind Hiro-san. He could see just the slightest curve of his lover's bare bottom peeking out from under the hem of the tied apron. He could feel Hiro-san's whole body flush as he stooped and began sliding his hands over the older man's smooth legs. He had shaved them, along with a few other bits, when they were in the bath together this morning, despite Hiro-san's protests.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki had chided, "a promise is a promise, and you said I could do anything."

"Well then, just get it over with, Dumb ass!" Hiroki had finally barked in concession. "And you better not fucking nick me!"

Nowaki had been very careful, employing a surgeon's precision. He could tell however, that once he got started Hiro-san really didn't mind it that much.

Now, Nowaki moved his skilled hands up Hiroki's thighs and under the short, ruffled, black skirt delighting in feeling nothing but Hiro-san's tight ass underneath as he slid his palms higher. Then one of his hands slipped around to the front. The other he slid from beneath the skirt, lifting it up, and placing it between the frilly top of the apron and his lover's flushed flesh. Nowaki palmed Hiro-san's finely muscled chest with his large hand and pulled his lover back into him.

"Dumb ass" Hiroki mumbled, submitting to Nowaki's touch. "Do you want breakfast or not?"

Nowaki leaned his dark head over Hiroki's shoulder and whispered into his ear before taking it gently between his teeth. "Well, I think there might be something else I'm hungrier for at the moment." He underscored his statement with his lower hand, giving Hiroki's cock a light squeeze.

"Horn dog!" Hiroki was trying his hardest to behave and not push away Nowaki's exquisite attentions. In fact, though he would never-ever admit it, it was kind of a relief to be freed from the burden of resistance.

As Nowaki pushed closer against him, Hiroki could feel the younger man's tented towel pressing between the cheeks of his bare backside. If he allowed himself, it felt rather lovely: Nowaki's obvious desire was simultaneously comforting and terribly arousing.

Just then Nowaki's cell phone began ringing. It was sitting out on the dining table where he had left it the previous night after they'd stumbled home.

Hiroki leaned back into Nowaki. "Just ignore it."

Nowaki groaned and pulled away. "I can't, Hiro-san, it might be the hospital. What if there's an emergency?"

Hiroki caught himself almost pouting as the warmth of Nowaki's hands left his enflamed flesh.

Hiroki was shocked by this response. He might sulk occasionally, but he made it a point to never pout. Embarrassed, he sucked in his bottom lip, biting it lightly to keep it from jutting back out. He tentatively put his hand back up to his forehead. He wondered if this disconcerting development was a resulting influence of the panda barrettes.

"Oh," said Nowaki happily, looking at the number and sitting down in one of their dining room chairs. "It's your mother."

"My mother!" Hiroki exclaimed, immediately drawing his hands up in an unconscious posture of modesty. Then his arms fell back down to his sides, his long-fingered hands clenching. "Wait a minute. Why in the hell is she calling you?"

"Oh, she does that sometimes now," Nowaki answered cheerfully.

At this new revelation, Hiroki's brow furrowed for the first time that day. "Well, don't answer it, Moron!" Hiroki started to shout, but it was too late.

"Ah, hello, Kamijou-san," Nowaki greeted, blatantly disregarding his boyfriend's distress.

"Yes, everything is just fine here…The weather is lovely… Things at the hospital are going well... No, I have the whole day off today… I am not even working anywhere else… Ah, yes, thank you… I got that recipe that you e-mailed me yesterday… Ummmhmmm… I'm going to try it out tomorrow."

"Your son?... Yes, he's here…just a minute."

Nowaki motioned for Hiroki to come and take the phone.

Hiroki sighed.

Ever since her visit, his mother had been increasingly attentive, sometimes calling him now two or three times a week. Honestly, she was getting almost as annoying in her persistence as Nowaki.

The auburn-haired maid turned the burner down and came to stand next to Nowaki. As Hiroki reached for the phone, his giant grabbed him and pulled him down onto his lap. Beneath Hiroki, Nowaki began to resume his previous explorations of his lover's body.

Hiroki tried to push the younger man's hands away as he took the phone. He ceased his struggles, however, when Nowaki gave him a reproving look and removed one hand long enough to shake a scolding finger at him.

"You promised," he mouthed.

Hiroki grunted in annoyance but he tried to settle into his boyfriend's lap. However Nowaki's jutting member made this a bit more complicated than normal.

"Mother, I really can't talk very long right now… I'm trying to fix breakfast."

"Such a way to greet your mother, tsk. And starting the day so late, Hiro-chan, It's almost noon," The lady Kamijou's tone was laced with disapproval.

Hiroki pretended not to notice the childhood endearment."Ummm, well, Nowaki and I went out drinking last night after he got done at the hospital and we got home a bit late."

"Oh, the wayward lives of bachelors. Neh, Hiroki?" His mother had become seemingly much more accepting of her son's "single" lifestyle since her visit. "Well, I just hope you don't make a habit of such behavior. You know Mariko-san's son…"

Hiroki knew that he needed to get his mother to the point of her call and off the phone, before she launched into one of her rambling stories.

Nowaki was trailing light kisses across Hiroki's bare shoulders. His hands had found and were now teasing his older lover's very sensitive nipples.

"Yes, yes, of course, Mother, but what did you call for?" a squirming Hiroki asked, trying not to sound peevish. Despite his discomfort, he could not help but add, "And why are you calling on Nowaki's phone?"

"Oh, well, I tried calling yours but it was turned off."

Hiroki suddenly remembered that he had turned his phone off last night, after receiving his third drunken call from Miyagi, who was lost in lamenting his most recent spat with his brat.

"Besides, I enjoy talking with Nowak… Kusama-san, from time to time. He certainly provides me with a much fuller account of what's going on in my only son's life than I can ever pry out of you. Anyway, I'm calling because I came across this book while I was out the other day, and I thought I remembered you, mentioning to Akihiko, that you were looking for it while I was there visiting."

Hiroki inhaled deeply, trying to keep his breathing even. For the first time in his life perhaps he did not have the least bit of interest in a book.

One of Nowaki's hands slipped down and took hold of the stiffness under Hiroki's increasingly disheveled skirt. "I think I found your feather duster, Miss," Nowaki purred into Hiro-san's ear, not occupied by the phone.

"What was that?" Hiroki's mother asked "Do you have someone there cleaning for you?"

"Ummm..." Focus was increasingly hard for Hiroki at the moment (and that was not the only thing). "Nowaki has been interviewing housekeepers, and one left something behind, I think."

"Oh, well I am pleased to hear that. With both your and Kusama-san's schedules, that seems very reasonable. It will give you more time for other things. Make sure the girl is honest though…"

As Hiroki took his next deep breath, he smelled something burning. He suddenly remembered their breakfast. "The eggs!" he groaned, cutting off his mother's description of the difficulty of finding trustworthy help.

"I'll get them," Nowaki offered, and both cruelly and blessedly for Hiroki, the man slid out from under him and headed toward the stove. Hiroki was shocked to find, however, that he was still sitting on Nowaki's towel: the giant was now standing completely naked in their kitchen with only an idiotic smile on.

"Be careful you don't burn anything important," Hiroki warned.

Nowaki just flashed his lover a literally cheeky grin.

"Now about this book…" the lady Kamijou forged on undeterred by the seeming chaos of her son's household.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki interrupted as he went to scrape the scorched eggs into the trash. "Are you sure that you still haven't seen my favorite spatula around? I can't seem to find it anywhere. I have no idea where it could have gotten to and it's been missing for ages now."

Mrs. Kamijou had never mentioned her revelations about her son's orientation to Hiroki's father. And since Hiroki had yet to admit to his truth, the lady was determined to draw her son out, regardless of the Senior Kamijou's sentiments. She had spoken with Hiroki numerous times since her visit. Each time, the weight of what remained unspoken between them had burdened her, and yet despite every opening she gave him, her son still declined to reveal himself.

Fearing just such a scenario, before she had left Hiroki, his mother had instigated, what had seemed at the time, a clever plan. But as the weeks had unfurled, she had begun to despair that her scheme had failed her.

However, now overhearing Nowaki's inquiry in the background, the lady Kamijou silently blessed the gods for this opening. She immediately jumped in. "Oh, Hiro-chan," she said slyly, "I think I might know what happened to Kusama-san's spatula."

"Really?"

"Ah yes, it seems I put it away while I was visiting you. But I am very surprised that Kusama-san has not found it."

"That's great," Hiroki breathed. He got up a little stiffly and headed in towards the kitchen. "If you just tell me where you put it, Mother, I'll be sure to look there right now."

"I put it…" the lady hesitated.

"I put it in Kusama-san's bed… I can't believe that after three weeks he didn't find it…unless of course he's sleeping somewhere else…"

Given Hiroki's luck, the lady Kamijou's timing could not have been more perfect. Her son heard these words uttered by his mother as he stood in his front room in his maid's costume, his skirt still tenting awkwardly up in the front while he stared at the questioning expression on the sly puppy face of his naked lover in the kitchen.

Hiroki felt the world stop and his face discover a new and remarkable shade of red.

"Hiro-san," The lady Kamijou said to Hiroki, using Nowaki's name for him for the first and only time reveling in the ironic beauty of her own endearment for her son. She asked kindly, "are you sure there isn't something that you might like to tell me?"

Thank you for reading!