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A(r)mour, Chapter 8

Title: A(r)mour

Warnings: Rated M, contains yaoi and occasional swearing, if you don’t like these things please don’t read.

Summary: Hiroki just keeps getting his heart broken, again and again and again, like a fool who doesn’t know when to quit. Standard romantica, egoist, and terrorist couplings, plus Nowaki/Misaki, Akihiko/Hiroki, Miyagi/Hiroki.

Author's Note: Mostly Shinobu stuff this chapter. A little shorter than average.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7


Chapter 8

The inaugural evening with Shinobu in the apartment was spent mostly in a supremely strained glaring contest.

“So, Hiroki, how was your day?” Miyagi tried to cajole a response from his partner, struggling to hold up his smile under the oppressive atmosphere.

“You were there, you already know how it was,” Hiroki muttered, but his gaze didn’t shift from the kid sitting across the kitchen table. Shinobu, in turn, glowered at the associate professor with all his might.

They fell back into simmering silence. The kid had made his move, barging in here like this. Hiroki didn’t want to be here dealing with this, but since he had to be, there was no way he was going to back down.

The kid wanted to play hard ball? He’d stepped straight into Hiroki’s dugout.

“Ah, you’re done with that? Here, here, I’ll do the dishes.” Miyagi started collecting up everyone’s plates.

Shinobu was quick to leap to his feet. “I’ll do it!” He sent a glare of challenge across the table.

Hiroki just scoffed to himself. If the brat thought he was going to fight over doing chores to win Miyagi’s affection, he would be sorely disappointed. Kid probably fell for reverse psychology all the time like that.

“Ah, in that case… I guess I’ll go have a shower,” Miyagi said. He sent a questing glance towards his partner, but Hiroki didn’t move from his seat. With a shrug, he escaped the kitchenette and headed for the bathroom.

The minute Miyagi was out of earshot, Shinobu finally spoke up.

“You’re still with him.”

Hiroki folded his arms. “Looks like it, doesn’t it?”

“I guess you don’t care about your career then. I’ll do it. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You stupid brat.” Hiroki’s smile was like a shark’s, sharp and all teeth. He was prepared for this now, not caught off-guard like last time. “You do know if you try to take me down, I’m taking you with me.”

The kid scoffed. “What can you possibly do?”

“Look at it like this: Fine. You get me fired. But if you do that, I’ll make absolutely sure you never get what you want.”

The brat stilled. “…And how would you do that?” He still didn’t sound convinced, though a note of wariness had entered his voice.

Stupid kid. “You’re after Miyagi, aren’t you? All I have to do is tell the Dean all about it.” Hiroki leaned forward, eyes narrowed. Shinobu held his ground, but shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Do you really think daddy dearest would look on that relationship any more kindly than he would a fictional one with me? It’s controversial enough that it’s another man – no parent would let their kid go out with someone twice their age.”

“He can’t stop it,” Shinobu spat back.

“Can’t he?” Hiroki hissed. “Even if you are legal, he’s still your father. The way I see it, he can send you back to Australia if he really wants. And not just that, either. He can make life difficult for Miyagi too. I’m sure that will endear you to him.”

Miyagi had tenure, so he couldn’t be fired that easily – unlike Hiroki - but he was counting on the kid not knowing that.

He’d give the brat some credit – he wasn’t easily cowed. He narrowed his eyes and replied, “And why should my father believe anything you say, especially after I talk to him? It’ll just make you look like you’re trying to make excuses. And I could get a restraining order.”

Hiroki was about to snap back, when a third voice intruded in the conversation. “What the hell is this?!”

Shinobu froze. Miyagi stood, framed in the doorway by the kitchen lights, looking the coldest and angriest Hiroki had ever seen him.

“Wh-what? Weren’t you going to have a shower?” the kid stuttered.

“I came back to get something, but that’s not the point. Did that sound like what I thought it sounded like?”

“…H-how much did you hear?” Shinobu asked. He’d gone pale.

“Enough.” He glanced at Hiroki. “Hiroki, is this true? Has he been threatening you?”

Hiroki glanced away and muttered, “I have it under control.”

Miyagi’s expression only grew darker. He grasped Shinobu by the wrist and tugged him to his feet. “You’re coming with me. We have to talk.”


Miyagi dragged Shinobu to his bedroom. It was the last place he wanted to have this conversation, but it was the furthest from the kitchen and the most private.

“Let go! That hurts!” Shinobu complained, yanking on his wrist.

Miyagi didn’t reply, just half-dragged, half-threw the kid into the dark room. He didn’t bother to turn on the light – there was enough streaming from the doorway. “This has to stop.”

“You don’t need to be so rough.” Shinobu scowled as he massaged his wrist. Miyagi felt bad for only an instant – he was too annoyed to feel sorry for the kid.

“What’s it going to take with you? I’ve spoken as plainly as possible. I’ve told you time and time again to give up. Why won’t you just get the hint and leave us alone?”

“Because you won’t take me seriously!” he burst out. “I’m telling you I’m in love with you and just treat me like a kid!”

"You are just a kid,” Miyagi growled. “Only an immature brat would think it's okay to threaten someone's job and reputation just to get what he wants."

The kid looked away, but that stubborn set to his jaw was still there. Why did he always get landed with problems like these? “Listen. That’s not just you getting your way. That’s taking food out of someone’s mouth, their roof from over their head, and their dreams away from their futures. If you had a career of your own you’d understand what an immature, selfish thing that is to do.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Luckily, you made the mistake of giving Hiroki time to dwell on it. He’s not so easily manipulated, you know.”

“Hiroki this, Hiroki that,” Shinobu snapped suddenly. “I’m sick of it! Pay attention to me!”

“You brat!” Miyagi thundered. “I’m in a relationship with him! Are you so stupid you can’t understand that?”

“I’m in love with you! Why can’t you understand that?!” Shinobu shot back.

That did it. The kid was never going to understand.

“Fine then. You want me to take you seriously? I will.” He grasped Shinobu by the shoulders and threw him down onto the bed. The kid’s eyes went wide in surprise as he bounced on the mattress.

“What are you-”

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he snapped, shoving his leg between his knees, and forcefully claiming his mouth in a bruising kiss.

Shinobu froze under him, mouth slack and body rigid. Miyagi didn’t let up, though – pushing his hand under his shirt, groping his chest, fingers harsh and firm and unyielding, sliding down to tug on his pants.

He broke the kiss and started undoing his belt buckle. Shinobu just stared at him, eyes wide and lips moist with saliva. “What’s the matter? This is what men do. You can’t talk so freely about love if you’re so scared of this.” He leant down and captured his mouth in another deep kiss, and pushed their groins together. Shinobu jumped like a plucked string.

There was nothing soft, or romantic, or kind and gentle about it. It was hard, unforgiving, demanding contact – the detached, impersonal sort of intimacy of a drunken one-night stand or a possessive boyfriend trying to assert his position.

When he felt he’d made his point, Miyagi finally withdrew, giving the kid space enough to escape. That should do for a good scare, to shock some sense into the brat. Now Shinobu could call him all sorts of foul names, punch him maybe, and finally get the hell back out of his life. This was the easiest way.

Then Miyagi looked – truly looked – at the teenager he had pinned to his bed.

Shit. The kid really was serious. He was terrified – he was shaking – but he was still going to go through with it. Even with the sheen of tears in his eyes, he was trying to reach out to Miyagi, trying to convince him, despite it being so completely obvious that he was scared out of his wits and had no idea what he was doing.

His stomach dropped. Was the kid completely a virgin?

“Get out of here,” Miyagi said abruptly, tired of it all. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“B-but… I mean, I can…” he blustered.

“Get lost!” Miyagi barked.

Cowed, Shinobu scrambled from the bed and scurried from the room.


It had worked. Shinobu had gone back to his father’s house that night and stopped bothering him. Miyagi had no idea what he’d told his father, but the Dean came by his office afterwards to apologise for the trouble.

“You should have told me what he was doing in the first place,” Miyagi told Hiroki later.

The associate professor just hunched his shoulders and replied, “I’m not so pathetic that I need you to ride to my rescue over every little thing.”

Burnt pride, obviously. Miyagi could deal with that. Hiroki would get over it soon enough, and things could settle back down into the comfortable routine they’d been reaching before. The one where he could walk into his kitchen first thing in the morning to the sight of Hiroki’s bare chest, and stay up late into the nights talking literature followed more often than not by extremely satisfying sex.

Except for some reason, it didn’t work like that. Now, when he went to the cafeteria he would remember Shinobu’s awful homemade bento. Walking into the kitchen reminded him of that one awkward night with their house guest. Kissing Hiroki made his mind flash to quivering hands and dark grey watery eyes. Not having that head of sandy hair pop up multiple times a day in the most unexpected places felt weird.

It felt… lonely.

That was when Miyagi realised what exactly had happened.

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

Miyagi hadn’t signed up for any of this.

His gut churned. His cigarette turned tasteless.

He had to break it off with Hiroki. Now. He shouldn’t have started anything with him in the first place.

“It’s really not fair,” he muttered, stubbing the butt into the ashtray. Smoke licked his knuckles, thin, pale trails curling in the air.

His colleague didn’t deserve this. But he already had one failed marriage. Miyagi knew intimately the price that came trying to hold a relationship while harbouring feelings for someone else.

Next chapter


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 2nd, 2013 09:20 am (UTC)
D: D: D: D: D:

Oh poor, poor Hiroki.
Nov. 4th, 2013 12:28 pm (UTC)
I should have put that as the summary, really. :)
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )