Kamijo Hiroki never liked doctors. In fact, he despised them with an unbridled fury. It wasn't just the fact that he wasn't all too keen on being poked and prodded, thermometers in his ear and tongue depressors on his tongue. No, it wasn't just that. Going to a doctor was admitting you were sick, and admitting was something the Kamijo's pride just wouldn't allow.

His parents attempted to get him to open up to the idea of one. To show him that this being was one that could help cure and prevent any ailments that befell him. An attempt which ended with a frustrated and flustered father, an emotional and upset mother, and a triumphant Hiroki.

Soon, it was silently decided that he would not go to a general physician unless it was an absolute emergency. And even that was a mission in itself.

Hiroki never liked doctors. And he doubted he ever would.

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Kusama Nowaki absolutely loved doctors. Every medical instrument they used were ones he would give anything to get his hands on. Stethoscopes, Otoscopes, Sphygmomanometers, Syringes (yes, even those), they all seemed to fascinate him and make him wonder: What exactly did they do?

At the orphanage he would always play 'doctor' with the other children, pretending the old knickknacks lying around were the sterile steel contraptions he had seen in the hospital. Anybody could tell you he truly had a gift at pretending to be one.

But it wasn't pretend for Nowaki. No. The boy new that this, this was his destiny.

Nowaki absolutely loved doctors. And he doubted that there was anyone that couldn't.

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Irony. It had to be. There was no other word to explain it. How else could it be possible that Kamijo Hiroki fell in love with the thing that he had loathed throughout his entire lifetime? Coincidence? Chance? He didn't think so. And if it wasn't irony, what was it?

As the college professor pondered this, his long-time boyfriend happened to enter their shared apartment.

"Hiro-san! I'm back!" The other man shouted happily as he shrugged off his coat and threw it on the couch.

"Baka! Hang that up!" Hiroki yelled back, bright scarlet dusting his cheeks. Oh, why did Kusama Nowaki have such an effect on him?

"But I just want to hold you Hiro-san!" The doctor, yes doctor, replied as he wrapped his arms around the struggling Kamijo's waist, pressing the older man's back against his chest and darkening his blush tremendously. After a minute of fruitless struggling, Hiroki gave up with a defeated sigh and a curse. There was just no escaping the taller man's iron grip. He slowly leaned his head against Nowaki's chest. Why was he so content?

Before he could think of an answer, he was forcefully spun around. The blush which had lessened considerably over the past few minutes came back full force.

"B-baka! What-" He was suddenly silenced by a pair of lips crashing onto his own. He wanted to show he was trying to struggle out of his grasp, but the moan that rumbled in his throat and the knowing smirk that he felt against his lips proved that Nowaki saw through it completely. So he reluctantly gave up and let his mind go blank as he felt his boyfriend's tongue pry open his mouth and dance with his own. And only when air was desperately needed did they pull apart.

And as the two panted for much needed oxygen, a word popped into his head.

Fate. That explained it perfectly.

What other word besides fate could explain why only this man's scent of hospital chemicals, sterile alcohol, and something just plain Nowaki aroused him more than he ever thought a man's scent could?

What else besides fate could explain why he stuttered, his cheeks turned deep red, and his heart thumped almost painfully in his chest just at the sight of the pediatrician?

What else could explain why he suddenly felt such deep emotions not even Usami Akihiko himself could stir? It just had to be fate.

Nothing else made sense.

"I love you, Hiro-san." Nowaki panted with a small smile.

"Baka." He whispered. He never had to say it, but his taller seme knew all the same that Hiroki loved him back.

And with that Kusama Nowaki and Kamijo Hiroki, the doctor and professor, the unlikeliest of couples, went to their shared bedroom to finish what they had started moments ago; the coat sprawled out on the couch forgotten.

Fin

I want to say thank you to the person who wrote the first review for this. I new I had one error, but it was 12:00 am when I wrote this so...XD. But I kept wondering, 'what the hell is wrong with the last sentence?' in my head. Then this person pointed out I spelled 'couch' wrong. I felt stupid for misspelling it at first, then ashamed that I let people read this with mistakes on here, then I yelled (thankfully no one heard) 'THAT'S WHAT WAS WRONG! THIS IS SO AWESOME! I THANK YOU MYSTERY PERSON!'

That was true to the letter.

So thank you Cerberus Revised!

(You know at first I was unsure if this was an account name, considering it was written as an anonymous review header. But then I realized that 'Oh! I do that all the time!' but instead I'm always writing 'This is Yuri Light by the way' or something like that)

Sooooo...uuuuhh...oh yeah! REVIEW PLEASE!