One can't just write down whatever one's feeling at the time. Oh no, no.
Some of us just do so anyways...
I'm feeling particularly lonely tonight.
Well, no. Lonely is not the word, but I've promised myself not to erase anything I've already typed.
Lonely's not it... rather, isolated. By choice, mind you, I'm completely aware of it. Loneliness hah, how petty-hhhh... and yet inspiring, oh yes, yes.
I've written a story about it, a mighty Junjou fanfic, it's just the beginning but I'm getting there, my first Junjou ever! I'm pretty much in love with the characters so I'm emotionally involved and doing my best! Ganbarimasu!
Kamijou Hiroki, ooohh I dare, a well known associate professor at Mitsuhashi University, completely rejects the idea of being in love with someone 4 years his senior, who is still a student and a rather skilled 'seme' at that. And yet Hiroki, a name I love dearly, can't let go of his pride. Hiroki, Hiroki, I love you madly.
Did I mention the fact that they're both men? Of course I haven't. They haven't told anyone either. Only the best of us know their secret...
And I go 'Dub dub dub duuub dub dub... dub me lord abortion...' and there I go again mixing Yaoi with Symphonic Black Metal and come up with something no one will ever enjoy but myself and Iiiiiiiiiii... at times like this I can't help but sing 'DOOOOOOOM doooom dooom doom.' Doom's upon us.
Gods everywhere: life's good. I've been blessed with YAOI insight...
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"…you."
Kamijou Hiroki looked up from the current paper he was grading, he hadn't caught a thing of what that girl in front of him was saying.
"Sorry, could you repeat that? I was a little distracted." he apologised.
Assistant professor Kamijou 'the Devil' Hiroki did not exactly inspire confidence. Due to his explosive temper and impulsive personality he was feared by his students and avoided by most of his colleagues. However his most characteristic trait had to be his complete lack of awareness whenever he had lines of words in front of him. As long as he was engaged in reading, the world didn't exist, a literature enthusiast as he was. He had barely even noticed one of his female students from first period linger after class and approach his desk.
As professor Kamijou looked up and pushed down his reading glasses to better look at his student he realised the girl was trying her best to not look back at him, her face completely flushed, a killer tomato personified.
"This… is for you." She slowly repeated, barely above a whisper. Hiroki's attention was then drawn to the little package neatly wrapped in bright pink paper sitting on his desk.
'Don't- don't tell me it's that time of the year again!' He thought as cold sweat ran down his spine.
His eyes turned from the little pink present to the girl offering it, unaware of the fact that he was becoming paler and paler by the second.
"Please accept these chocolates," The girl student ventured to speak once again, this time her voice came out a little stronger. "Happy Valentines Day." she said before literally sprinting out of the room, leaving one petrified assistant professor behind.
Kamijou Hiroki was a good looking man and yet not particularly masculine. He had a toned slender body, reminiscent of a professional swimmer on the slimmer side, with broad shoulders and overgrown dark brown hair reaching the nape of his neck on the back yet shortened at the front, barely covering the tip of his nose and combed sideways. His eyebrows seemed to meet at the center creating an eternal frown, well known to his students, however his eyes shone with an unexpected innocence pooling within a light shade of brown, a color too well hidden from the world and yet too apparent to those being regarded by it. He was young, way too young for a university assistant professor, at barely 28 years of age he had already achieved his professional goals with excellency. His social skills outside of work however, were far from developed, being abnormally sensitive and ferociously timid.
'No, I can't believe I didn't notice! No wonder, no way, don't tell me!' Hiroki thought hard, trying to remember his schedule for the day. 'I have three more classes and a conference at six! Agh! If I had known what day it was today I wouldn't have agreed to that damn conference! Maybe if I barricade myself in the office and send the students some random assignment through one of the secretaries… no I can't do that, we haven't even started on Edo prose yet!'
Hiroki then stood up and began pacing back and forth, throwing ugly glances at his first Valentines present of the day every time he walked past his desk.
It had to be the most embarrassing thing in the world, receiving a mountain of Valentines Day chocolates once a year, presents piled all around his desk, ridiculous wrappings, girls giggling madly everywhere he went! Once a year, no exceptions, his strict and hard facade as one of the most intimidating professors at the University was completely destroyed by a pink avalanche of gifts and letters, hearts and chocolates, candy, frigging candy of all things!
'What the hell are they expecting from me?! Damn moronic girls, I'm their professor! Do they really think I'm going to get involved with one of them simply because their batch of fancy chocolates was better than the next one!?' Once a year, no exceptions, assistant professor Kamijou 'the Devil' Hiroki mumbled the same old monologue to himself after receiving the first present of the day. Not once had he remembered to not schedule extra activities on Valentines Day.
"This has got to be the most embarrassing thing in the world." And barely were those words out of his mouth when an even more embarrassing image of his current male lover appeared before his mind's eye, 1.86m tall and holding out a pink box of white chocolates wishing him a 'Happy Valentines Day, Hiro-san'. Hiroki shivered trying to shake away the memory of the man he loved, doing the unspeakable.
"That idiot is the worst." he whispered, covering his face with one hand.
'Once a year, yes, I can cope with the embarrassment. In the end, it's just giiirls. Girls and their idiotic perverse versions of romanticism. Thousands of years of literature have taught us men the means of escaping from unavoidable situations such as... unrequited love.'
'When it's a reciprocated love between two men, when you wonder wether there's a limit to how much one can love someone of the same sex, then you have a problem. And the heartthrob that is Valentine's Day hurts times a thousandfold.'
'That horribly sweet thadump thadump that pulsates inside my chest whenever I'm with him, whenever my thoughts are drawn towards him, should it hurt as much as it does?'
'It shouldn't, and it doesn't. It's just today, just this one day, whenever these female minions of evil escape their encasement... I'm terribly aware of how hard it is to love another man. And then again, I'm reminded that MY Valentines Day is forcefully held indoors.'
'And this offending object, this present, is now stuck down my throat and I can't breathe. How can something so affectionate cause so much damage? How can it throw me off balance by just sitting there?'
'Nowaki... he's the same.'
Without really noticing, Hiroki pulled out his mobile and dialled a familiar number. He held up the phone to his ear, still pacing back and forth, growing more and more impatient.
After a couple of rings, someone picked up on the other side.
"Hiro-san." It wasn't a question. There was only one person in the world who would answer the phone calling out his name so innocently. Simply because there was only one person in the whole world who was allowed to use that version of his name. Hiroki's heart throbbed painfully each time he heard it, finding not enough space in his chest to beat at its content.
"I... hey, it's me."
"..."
"..."
"I've just realised as well." Kusama Nowaki whispered from the other end of the line.
'Who does he think he is, being all high and mighty?' Hiroki thought, trying hard to appear more annoyed than he actually was.
"You forgot to take out the garbage this morning, it was your turn so I was annoyed by the stench as I left for work." was the first thing he had come up with, unable to speak his thoughts as he unintentionally wanted to. 'Why does it have to be this hard?' he thought as he closed his eyes and bit his lip.
"I apologise, I overslept and left in a hurry." Nowaki was always polite, always careful with his choice of words. Something that pleased Hiroki, a literature professor, to no end.
"Whatever, just make sure you take it out when you come back." A comfortable silence followed, the kind they were both accustomed to.
"Hiro-san?" Nowaki suddenly spoke.
"What?"
'I love you. I love you. I want to see you. I want to see you so much.'
"Dinner tonight?"
It was completely innocent, every once in a while they would meet up after work at that same old family restaurant, have dinner and walk back home together.
And yet the thought of being able to do so tonight... the possibility of them being together in this one forbidden day meant for couples of blue and pink...
'I feel like I've been granted another ten years of life.'
Was a true present.
"Whatever. Just don't be late, see you at seven then."
Without waiting for a response, Hiroki ended the call and pocketed his phone. That was all the boost he needed to get him through the day and cancel that conference at six.
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And aren't they lovely?
Back in the days when I was young and full of life I used to write the dirtiest, most graphic, most disgustingly vivid yaoi stories ever.
Ack, my lovely self and I haven't actually experienced male gay sex...
Hell, does that mean I can't write about it?
Raise your hand if you've a twisted, twisted mind! Just let me get my cool back and I'll be posting the diiiiiiirtiest stories evah!
Tonight I'm full of fluff though, shhiiiiiiiit. Junjou Egoist FOREVER.
Just finished a portrait in pastels. I copied it from a very old picture where all the colors had faded, so it was kind of hard. All I knew for sure was that the girl in the dress (my aunt) is wearing a traditional black dress from Chiapas, with ridonculous colors all over. My aunt suffers from hydrocephalus, and right now it's too advanced, she cannot get up from her bed anymore, so I wanted to give this drawing to my dad, you know. Cause he lives in fucking Qatar and can't see her as often as he'd like. So this is what happened. 
