Glasses

Nowaki really liked Hiro-san's glasses. The way they framed his angelic face whilst he was deep in thought analysing a particular passage or simply reading the newspaper appealed to him so much that he couldn't really explain this rather strange fetish, but whenever his Hiro-san stumbled out of bed in the morning, screaming that Nowaki had forgotten to wake him up ("Eighteen time, Hiro-san," Nowaki had patiently reminded), he would come face to face with teasing silver-tinted glasses. The few minutes Hiro-san spent between waking and entering the bathroom where Hiro-san quickly put his lenses in were oddly provocative in Nowaki's eyes, and he was beginning to worry about this strange habit he had developed, whereby he would half-consciously feel his tongue moisten his top lip to the mere sight of those frames. Nowaki really liked Hiro-san's glasses.

Hiro-san really hated his glasses. They made him feel stereotypically 'geekish' and, added to his plain white shirt, plain blue tie and plain brown briefcase, they made him want to hide under his brown locks. On more than one occasion, he had been forced to remove his lenses whilst teaching due to the sheer strain his eyes underwent throughout the day, leaving him with no choice but to wear his glasses during afternoon lectures. For Hiro-san, anything that marked him out from the crowd rendered him immobile with doubt, believing himself to be the centre of everyone's hushed whispers in class. Hiro-san had realised his thoughts to be irrational when he flung a heavy textbook at a couple who were talking at the back, whilst screaming something along the lines of "Stop staring at me!" Indeed, this had led to the entire class spending the rest of the lecture staring at the back of Hiro-san's head, whilst he tried to hide his red face by holding a book up for the next hour. Hiro-san really hated his glasses.

Akihiko didn't like Hiro-san's glasses. When he was wearing them, he could never tell what the lecturer was thinking. Unless he had a clear read of his facial expression, Akihiko had no idea whether to offer his wide arms for a hug or run and hide from imminent propulsion of whatever Hiro-san had to hand.

Miyagi found Hiro-san's glasses amusing. Each time he returned from lunch with his 'giant boyfriend', Miyagi would remark on the change from contacts to glasses, stating it was due to 'too much lovin' that Hiro-san's eyesight was failing, resulting more often than not in a book, bag and even a stapler on one occasion being thrown his way.

After a particularly strenuous day, Hiro-san returned to his shared apartment, muttering a quiet 'I'm home' under his breath. In response, Nowaki returned his greeting with a far more cheerful 'Welcome back', which was not unappreciated by the brunette but, all the same, he could barely muster a half-hearted wave in the kitchen's direction before unceremoniously tossing his briefcase down in the hallway as he made his way to the sofa. Collapsing on it, he rolled over onto his stomach in the hopes that lying down would alleviate him of his painful eye-strain-induced headache. Shortly after, Nowaki's gentle footfalls could be heard leaving the kitchen and a soft 'thunk' emanated as he placed the cup of coffee down on the side table for his Hiro-san. The brunette brought his head up for a moment, being careful not to squash his glasses between his face and the pillow, and reached over for the cup.

"Ah, Hiro-san!" Nowaki exclaimed. "Here, sit up or you'll spill it!"

Hiro-san did as he was told, but not before grumbling "You're not my Mother" at the younger. Despite the reprisal, Nowaki smiled down at his lover as he handed him the mug.

"How was your day, Hiro-san?" he enquired, whilst beginning to wipe down the table with the cloth in his apron pocket. Hiro-san merely groaned in reply and Nowaki immediately turned to face him. Replacing the cloth, he gently took Hiro-san's face in his hands. Surprised, Hiro-san recoiled from the touch, causing his piping hot coffee to pour all down himself.

"Idiot!" he yelled, jumping up as the liquid began to seep into his trousers.

"Hiro-san! I'm so sorry! Let me help!" Nowaki began to frantically dap at his lover's trousers with the cloth but this only caused Hiro-san to yelp and forcefully push him away. Running to the bathroom to the best of his ability, whilst trying to hold his scorched trousers away from his skin, Hiro-san muttered obscenities under his breath. Once in the bathroom, he began to frantically peel the material off his legs, praying that he wouldn't be left with scars that would mar his already much-flawed body.

Knocking was heard and an anxious "Hiro-san!" came from the other side of the closed door.

"Idiot!" was all the tired professor could manage. The knocking immediately ceased and Nowaki's laboured breaths brought on from his apparent distress could be heard through the door. Hiro-san glanced around, frantically trying to find some toilet roll to wipe himself down with. Locating the roll holder across from him, he gave out a rather large sigh and muttered "Just my luck." He immediately began the search for something – anything- to use. Looking in the cupboards proved fruitless and, with a dejected realisation, he bent down to gingerly sift through the bin. Moving aside countless empty lube bottles and cringing as he saw the strawberry-scented one ("But you love strawberries, Hiro-san!" Nowaki had remarked, to which Hiro-san had unthinkingly replied "It's not for my benefit, Idiot!" with a red blush quickly ensuing), he came across an unopened envelope. Intrigued, he lifted from the rubbish and slowly moved over the sit on the edge of the bathtub, whilst turning the letter over in his hand to see it was indeed addressed to a 'Mr. Hiroki Kamijou'.

Hiro-san silently opened the envelope and pulled the single sheet out. As he began to read, his temper began to flare and he found himself ripping the door open to find a surprised Nowaki staring back in concern.

"IDIOT!" he exclaimed, waving the paper in front of the younger's face. "What the hell are you doing, hiding my post?"

Recovering quickly from the shock and already use to this kind of mood swing from his lover ("Are you sure you can't get pregnant, Hiro-san?" he had asked after a particularly grouchy brunette returned home, to which the professor threw a plant pot in reply), Nowaki calmly said, "What's wrong, Hiro-san?"

Hiro-san found it difficult to gather the words in response. "Why the hell are you hiding my lenses from me? The letter says I was supposed to pick them up over a week ago!"

Nowaki frowned. "But Hiro-san, I like you in glasses."

Silence ensued, stretched on for so long that, to onlookers, the two would appear to be in an ill-advised staring contest.

"W-What?" the brunette eventually managed to stutter out.

"I like you in glasses, Hiro-san," he replied with the lop-sided smile his lover had come to know so well.

"You do?" he whispered uncertainly.

Instead of speaking, Nowaki gently wrapped his arm around the smaller man in front of him, pressing his face against his strong chest.

"Watch it, you'll break my glasses!" Hiro-san shouted, trying to prise himself away by placing a hand in between their chests.

Undeterred, Nowaki leaned his head down to rest on his shoulder and whispers so softly that it made Hiro-san melt, "I love the way they feel against my chest when I cradle your head. I love the way they bump against my nose every time we kiss." Getting even closer to the point where his tongue gently caressed Hiro-san's ear, he added "I love the way they make your eyes ten times more beautiful when you close them after I do this," before roughly grasping the brunette's ass, causing a barely-concealed moan from the elder.

Pulling his head back to gaze up into cerulean eyes, Hiro-san muttered "I guess glasses aren't so bad after all."

When his subordinate had come into the University with his glasses on at 8am sharp the next day, Miyagi could only guess at what had caused the sudden change in his appearance. When Miyagi went out for lunch with Shinobu later that week, he returned to find the 'giant boyfriend' hastily hauling a scarf around himself as he walked by and entered his office to see 'Kamijou the Devil' sprawled across his desk, abashed with his silver-tinted spectacles sitting askew on the bridge of his nose.

Miyagi found Hiro-san's glasses amusing.

A.N.

I can see over 150 people reading this and only 1 leaving a review! It's so disheartening so see – I want to talk to you, lovely readers. You can help me build up my writing skills by leaving comments on the good, the bad and the ugly. Please don't click off without leaving any feedback – it makes Misaki cry. Then, you'll have a very mad Usagi-san to contend with!