numbered arashi ficlets
31 Dec 2006 06:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cimoreneunrelated and pointless snippets by cimorene
arashi rps, ohno satoshi/ninomiya kazunari, pg
1. public displays of affection (126 words)
"it's your turn to do the dishes."
"and so?"
"i'm just saying. you knew that, right?"
"yes."
"well, i could do them."
"hm?"
"if you let me kiss you on camera tomorrow."
ohno levels a considering look at nino. nino is heartened to see that this isn't ohno's look which considers how seriously nino is unhinged or how quickly he can argue nino around to his point of view. it is his look which considers how much he is willing to bargain before he gives in. "how long?" says ohno.
"oh," says nino, "how about ten seconds."
"no," says ohno, "that's okay - "
"two seconds," says nino instantly.
"done."
nino goes to fill the sink, but he stops on his way to kiss ohno first.
2. matching shoes (131 words)
the phone rings three times, and ohno's mom sounds distracted when she picks it up, but not unhappy.
it's loud behind her, so ohno says, "ah, mom, are you already in the department store?"
"i thought i'd come early and eat lunch in the cafe!" she says. "i love seeing people shopping for their christmas presents. so many cute little children and - "
ohno thinks his mother is crazy. how can you like shopping in a crowded department store? "say, mom, when you buy my shoes, um - "
"oh! yes?"
"well... there was an accident with nino's shoes, so - could you get another pair?"
in the corner, aiba covers his mouth and elbows nino in the side. "having your mom buy *your* clothes is bad enough," says jun.
3. hands (443 words)
inspired by the "sunken onsen" episode of mago mago arashi:
the grandma holds nino's hand so much that by the end of the day the grandpa catches on and starts to hold ohno's too. his skin is warm and leathery, his grip firm in that odd way that old people have, like the flesh has melted away between skin and bone and the sharpness of bones presses against ohno's hand like wires. but he's nothing to the grandma. she seems like the sentimental type and of course, she's fallen in love with nino like so many people do. she has a deathgrip on him with both of her bent little hands. nino's standing casually with his weight on only one foot, his other hand on his hip. he doesn't pull away, doesn't do anything, just returns the grip, because nino is never gracious; he's grumpy and childish or else happy and childish, so genuine he puts everyone at ease. especially ohno.
as they're walking from the grandparents' house to the van that night, the camera and sound crews drawing ahead of them until they're almost alone, nino switches the umbrella to his right hand so he can flex his left. "ah," he winces, and flexes it again, stretching out all the fingers. tendons stand out on the back of it. "that grandma had a great grip. my hand still feels squished."
"was it that strong?" says ohno.
"it was really something," nino replies, and shakes his hand a little, but he's smiling, so ohno knows it doesn't really hurt. "how's your head?"
"ah, when i was painting the window was open, so i'm okay," ohno says. "it didn't smell that much."
"mm," says nino, "you know, ohchan, somehow i feel really touched. that grandma really wanted to hold my hand." he turns his hand over and looks at the back and the front like he's never seen it before. "i can still feel the where her hand and all her fingers were, i think. my hand feels a little empty."
ohno reaches out right away and forgets the umbrella's in his right hand, so he has to switch it quickly before he can take nino's hand. he folds his hand around it and laces their fingers together and touches the back with his thumb, the familiar ripples of the tendons and shapes of nino's knuckles, until he thinks he must have erased any trace of emptiness.
he looks up and nino smiles at him and moves closer until their shoulders bump, and then their umbrellas knock together. but nino moves his umbrella out of the way instead of stepping back. "leader, thank you," nino says. ohno tilts his umbrella to cover nino's head.
4. grouchy nino (325 words)
inspired by (but not actually related to!) the okinawa episode of mago mago arashi:
"what do you want," nino groaned through his fingers, jerking his elbow out of ohno's grasp again, but not as hard as the first time, in case ohno got the wrong idea and stopped touching him.
ohno blinked at him, expressionless, and then looked down and away. nino recognised this instantly as ohno's attempt to hide a smile. ohno tried not to let nino see his amusement when he felt nino was behaving badly out of a misguided desire not to encourage nino. he didn't realise this strategy was counter-productive because of how cute he was biting his lips and suppressing a smile, his hands propped on his hips like that.
"come on," said nino, "what?" and tilted his head closer.
"um," said ohno, "it's - nothing." as a gesture of conciliation, he let his hand linger on nino's wrist, and then put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight so their arms were touching in several places.
nino sighed, but he leaned back a little into the touch.
"actually," he heard then, very close to his ear, "it's this," and before he could move ohno's arm was around his waist and breath was on his ear.
nino was smiling already, almost against his will, certainly without his conscious decision, as he turned around to face ohno half-laughing, "what - "
and ohno mumbled something that might have been "i like - " just before his mouth skimmed nino's cheek and fluttered for the length of a heartbeat at the corner of his lips as soft as a sigh. he pulled back, and he was just crazy enough that nino could believe he was actually planning to move away.
he never had a chance.
"was that all?" nino asked contentedly a minute later.
ohno stared at him, eyes wide and dazed, mouth flushed and wet, and moved his hand idly against the small of nino's back. he answered distractedly: "was that all what?"
5. shopping for ohno (546 words)
"come on," nino says, "you can't tell me you would buy that for yourself!"
ohno isn't looking at him, but he turns to blink at nino at that. "what? this?"
"would you?" nino repeats.
"ahhhh. i guess not." ohno puts his hands on his hips and blinks, considering. then he comes to his conclusion and says "ah!", with an air of surprise. "nino, you can buy them, if you want to... ?"
that wasn't actually what nino was driving at, but he doesn't hesitate: "okay!" he says. besides - he does kind of want to. it might be ridiculous to be jealous of ohno's mother, but nobody has ever said that nino was reasonable about ohno.
but ohno is surprised by his quick response. "what - now?"
for a few hours nino takes ohno into and out of stores, pushes him gently into the dressing rooms with his arms full of clothes and pulls him out again, smoothing his lapels and straightening his cuffs. a few times he follows ohno into the dressing rooms and manhandles him into and out of the suits, and ohno stands there obediently like a doll, his eyes bright and tracking nino's movements, his face breaking into a smile when nino smiles.
when nino is looking over ohno's shoulder at a mirror in a department store dressing room, ohno makes his first relevant comment. "do you really think a purple suit?" he says.
"ah," nino hums, "i didn't think you noticed what i was putting you in."
"what - i'm wearing it!" says ohno. nino smooths the drape of the trousers over his hips and flanks, around his thighs and lingers on his ass, but ohno makes no comment, just turns to give nino a distracted and affectionate secret smile.
"i wasn't sure you were paying attention," nino explains.
the thing about ohno is that he's so completely transparent that whenever he is interested in something there can be no doubt at all that he is. when a suit takes his fancy he stands in front of the mirror looking at himself, tracing the outline of the lapel with his fingertip.
"oh, ohchan found one he likes, huh?" nino says, satisfied.
ohno replies without really answering, "hey, doesn't it remind you of that photoshoot we did with the fruit bowl that didn't have any bananas?" then he adjusts his cuffs again, and nino smirks fondly at him.
when nino decrees: this one!, ohno asks in surprise, "are you done?"
nino says, "we'll buy this one if ohchan likes it," tipping his head close to ohno's ear and making ohno blush.
ohno still intends to pay then, and he gets out his wallet, but nino takes the suit and the wallet both away from him and tucks the wallet back in ohno's pocket. "you said i could buy it and i said i was going to - didn't i?"
ohno smiles at him, kind of slowly, a little bit like he is embarrassed in case he is caught at it in public. he takes a step closer, till nino can feel warmth along his arm and the side of his body, and reaches out to touch the suit again. and he drops the subject. ohno knows when not to argue with nino.
unrelated and pointless snippets by cimorene
arashi rps, ohno satoshi/ninomiya kazunari, pg; #8 suggests aiba masaki/matsumoto jun, also pg
6. dreaming (384 words)
inspired by and set during the "shy granny" episode of mago mago arashi:
ohno was dreaming that he and his sister were in a boat made out of tinfoil sailing into the open mouth of a giant seashell when he startled awake with something on his forehead. the touch was gentle, so he woke slowly in a long lazy moment, and the first thing he saw was nino, bending over him and silhouetted against the light, smiling soft-eyed down at ohno.
ohno moved his head a little and arched his neck, still sleep-foggy and wondering distractedly why a boat of tinfoil, and would the inside of a conch shell really look like that and could he paint it (maybe with acrylics, no, maybe chalk pastels). he blinked once and nino shifted a little; one of his hands was braced on the floor near ohno's head, and ohno rolled over towards it, his whole body curling automatically in a slow luxurious stretch and his eyes fluttering closed, and he yawned and touched the back of nino's hand. (nino talked about ohno's hands - that is, not a lot, but he'd gotten on the subject once or twice, and since then ohno had noticed the way he went wide-eyed and breathless sometimes, watching ohno's hands on his body - but ohno loved nino's hands; they were neat and capable, faintly brown, relaxed and sometimes graceful and very nino.)
then he could sense nino leaning closer over him even before he opened his eyes, and he could feel nino gently touching the side of his face. he opened them and nino's face was so near, his mouth curved in the little smile that made ohno's heart leap because it was only for ohno. nino's mouth was open like he was going to say something, but no sound came out as he traced ohno's cheekbone and down to ohno's lips with the backs of his fingers.
it was only an instant that nino touched the centre of his mouth, and only with the edge of his pinky; but it was like a kiss, as soft and electric, and ohno felt it as something more lingering because his whole body was trained to respond to nino's touch. his hand even curled involuntarily in response, a tiny shock of pleasure which left him completely awake, unable even to remember what he'd been dreaming.
7. somehow i doubt it (123 words )
nino: i'm bored
ohno: really? i'm sketching.
nino: yea. come over
ohno: me come over? when?
nino: now, dumbass
ohno: i'm almost done with the head part. i could catch the next train after i finish.
nino: you can draw me instead, naked
ohno: draw you naked?
nino: ohhhhhhchaaan? u there?
ohno: oh, sorry, i was thinking. i don't know if that's a good idea. i mean, would it work?
nino: yes
ohno: i mean if i'm trying to draw, but nino's lying there naked in front of me, i might be distracted.
nino: somehow i doubt it
nino: but you can draw after we have sex
nino: or not at all
nino: but whatever, are you coming? if you aren't i am
8. spit or swallow (417 words)
inspired by and set after this episode of arashi no waza-ari in which aiba and jun play golf [link goes to youtube].
aiba and sho are the first ones in the restaurant, and have some time to kill while they're waiting for ohno and nino, who will certainly arrive on time but probably only barely and definitely together, and jun, who will probably arrive exactly on time but whenever he does will definitely make an entrance. aiba, who spent most of the day filming outside with too few outer layers on, is wearing two jackets and a scarf, and has already ordered alcohol. (sho ordered him tea, too, but it's the alcohol aiba is counting on.) "how did it go today?" says sho.
"cold," says aiba.
"it's not cold here," sho points out cautiously.
"i know," says aiba crisply, "i'm still recovering."
"oh. well - what else?" says sho.
"hmmm..." aiba smirks and waggles his eyebrows at sho, "we finally found out for sure about matsujun: he wants to spit, but he swallows in the end."
hands land on his shoulders and aiba jumps, but before he has time to turn around matsujun's voice drawls in his ear, "you should have known that already. i'm surprised you ever doubted it."
sho looks torn between amusement and mild panic. "you guys were filming today, right?"
"mmm," jun agrees, leaning more comfortably on the back of aiba's chair and slinging an arm around his neck. "masaki made that sound a lot more interesting than it was - unfortunately."
aiba leans to the side and cranes his head around to look at jun, who turns out to have a self-satisfied curl of smile on his face, his eyes lit up, a little like he looked as he, well, swallowed.
"it was interesting," aiba says firmly, and jun throws him an amused glance.
"maybe you should stop there," says sho. "i'll just watch the episode."
aiba, ignoring sho entirely, eventually gives under the pressure of jun's amused eyebrow quirk: "okay, not that interesting." at this sign of victory jun starts to lazily unfold himself from the back of aiba's chair. "i'll have to get back to you about the other, sho-chan," aiba adds, with no change from his wide-eyed expression from before.
sho chokes on his sake; nino comes around the corner dragging leader by the hand, takes one glance at them and says, "what did i miss?"
and jun freezes, halfway between his sensual self-confident teasing draped-over-a-chair sprawl and standing up, and blinks before he starts to laugh. aiba settles back in his chair, careful to hide his smile in his scarf.
9. to be expected (561 words)
nino is lounging possessively in ohno's lap, spread out over most of the couch and most of ohno, while he explains to sho just what it is that makes good won-ton soup (he has been trying to insist that the value of pepper is empirical, not a matter of taste, and wants to prove it with popularity. sho is trying to keep the discussion from veering into statistics at any cost; he knows how nino loves to make statistics up. he delights in arguing as nonsensically as possible until sho can't remember what they were talking about any longer). after a while ohno apparently thinks of something else more important to do than providing a body pillow for nino. this is actually a bit remarkable: ohno has been known to skip lunches and bathroom breaks entirely out of a desire not to dislodge nino from his lap, when nino is asleep.
but nino is awake now, and he responds absently to ohno's stroking his shoulder blade by shifting around to let ohno get up.
apparently ohno was thirsty. sho can hear the sounds of his kettle being filled and turned on, and the cabinets and drawers opening and closing for tea ingredients (more doors than you need to make tea, but that's expected with ohno, that he opens the wrong cabinet first.)
"what i'm saying is, obviously people don't just like pepper for no reason," says nino, "they like it because it tastes good."
"not when you use as much of it as you like, it doesn't," sho retorts. he calls into the kitchen, "isn't that right, ohno-kun?"
ohno appears in the kitchen doorway with sho's dishtowel in his hands. "huh?" he says, and then "oh, yeah, right," but it's obvious he has no idea what he's agreeing to. everybody laughs; nino's chuckling has a smug air, and he's getting a little cosier with sho's couch cushions than sho feels he really should with anybody (or anything) except ohno, and even then, not in public.
ohno - who apparently doesn't consider sho's couch cushions to be any worrying kind of competition - drifts back into the kitchen.
jun calls after him, "CHIPS!"
a moment later ohno comes back out with chips for jun - he just hands him the whole bag, but he pauses to rip it open first because they all know from experience that if he didn't, jun would probably hand it back to him with a pointed and demanding look. "ah!" he exclaims then, "i forgot my tea - " and vanishes into the kitchen again.
this time when he emerges he's carrying a steaming teacup, and he sets it on a coaster on the coffee table and starts to lower himself onto the couch in the tiny piece at the end not occupied by nino. but then ohno glances at nino, and their eyes meet and some kind of alarmingly psychic ohmiya sk communiqué passes between them. (it's a good thing nino hasn't twigged, yet, that their supernatural abilities could be useful for playing practical jokes. none of them would be safe ever again.) nino doesn't even make a face or anything, but ohno just - reverses his direction and stands up again. sho doesn't even have any idea what he's doing until he comes back a third time with a second cup of tea for nino.
10. winter sunlight (277 words)
inspired by and set during the "old-style dance" episode of mago mago arashi:
nino loves to watch ohno dance. he can do it for hours, though he doesn't usually have to do it for very long and keep his hands to himself. of course he doesn't mind just watching ohno sometimes - watching ohno and thinking about touching him, thinking about how ohno is his to touch - watching the sweat bead at his hairline and knowing how it smells, watching his pants stretch at his thighs when he moves his feet. this old-fashioned dance is a lot slower than their usual dancing, though. nino worries he's going to fall off-beat with his drumming if ohno keeps standing like that, so graceful, loose and limber and strong and full of coiled energy. nino isn't even sitting close enough to see the sweat on ohno's face anymore, but that doesn't stop him from thinking about it. he knows it's there, though the room is cold; he can see ohno panting a little, and taking those big stomping steps. squatting like that must be rough on his knees - nino can see how tense his legs are - but ohno doesn't show it, and nino isn't really thinking about that what with the way he can't tear his eyes away from ohno's thighs. nino tries counting the beats, tries looking at the drum, but he can count drum beats in his sleep, and he can't look only down at the drum when ohno's on the other side of it, sweating and stomping and twirling, with cold winter sunlight pouring all over him touching all the places nino wants to be touching...
nino's actually glad to leave before ohno finishes practising the dance.
unrelated and pointless ficlets by cimorene
arashi rps: matsumoto jun /aiba masaki and ohno satoshi/ninomiya kazunari; #12 is sho & aiba bff with the jun/aiba only implied.
11. algebra, 135 words, inspired by a discussion about aiba taking up algebra as a hobby. i can't remember the context that would make that seem less bizarre, but given the fandom, i think any amount of crack is basically excusable, don't you?
"oh no!" aiba is saying breathlessly when ohno wanders back into the living room dazedly an hour after he left, the collar of his shirt askew and a red mark on his neck.
by this point jun and sho have both started ignoring aiba, but ohno takes the bait. "what?"
"i think i've been looking at numbers for too long!" aiba says. "they're not making sense anymore! leader, what's seven times eight?"
ohno frowns. "um. seventy-eight? no, fifty-six."
"oh?" aiba blinks, and the blinking is not cute, jun thinks firmly, and he's not watching aiba, he is reading this book. he looks firmly down at the book. "i was right," aiba mutters, and his pencil scratches some more.
who is jun kidding? aiba is totally cute. he sighs and puts the bookmark in his book.
12. flowchart, 810 words.
"you came!" says aiba happily, and makes a movement that seems divided between clapping his hands and opening the closet to let sho put his coat in it; it's lucky that the motion is aborted in mid-bounce and aiba instead bounds into the kitchen at the sound of the tea kettle coming to a boil, because had he opened the closet it would certainly have hit sho in the face.
"i did," sho agrees, hanging up his coat all by himself, "is that tea? i thought something was wrong from the five hundred text messages i received today confirming i was actually coming." he had not, in fact, thought anything was wrong, because sho knows aiba-chan, but the text messages have had the effect of screwing his curiosity about what aiba can be up to to the point of insatiable hunger. he half expects the kitchen to be covered in plastic sheets and buckets of tie dye, or something to do with animals, or another (sho shudders) failed baking experiment. however, the kitchen is clean, except for a stack of books, a stack of magazines, and a blank pad of lined paper and a pencil. aiba is eagerly pouring the tea.
"oh no!" says aiba. "i'm sorry," but his grin isn't sorry at all, "there's nothing wrong at all - oh wait, the tea has to brew first! do you want some cake?"
sho's eyes go round. "have you been baking today, and the kitchen's still clean?"
aiba laughs like sho has made a joke. "i bought it!"
sho eats a piece and a half of cake and listens to a long story about the little old lady who didn't want to allow aiba to help her across the street and the bicycle aiba borrowed from a paper delivery boy before he finally ventures, "what are we doing tonight?", and all the laughter goes slowly out of aiba-chan's eyes like a light being snuffed behind a window, or curiously like a dark being kindled: the expression of solemnity which replaces it is a little chilling, but not completely alien.
aiba tilts his head and says, "i need some help, i think. you're good at flowcharts."
sho thinks of several responses and settles on, "you think so?"
"i'm going to make a plan - finish making up a plan," aiba corrects himself, "possibly with a flowchart, i think that would be good, which is good for plans, but maybe another kind of chart would work - and anyway i have plenty of paper to make notes, you see?"
"i see," says sho, hoping this will encourage aiba to come to the end of his original sentence.
aiba's smile returns. "you don't only have to eat cake, we can get food if you want, only sho-chan will help me, won't he? i mean, i don't know if - it has to be a good plan, i've always been very careful, and i can't afford to mess it up now,"
at which point sho interrupts, "i see, but what - " but aiba doesn't even slow down:
"- so i'd appreciate it if sho-chan would help with the plan. i don't want you to make it, i just need your opinion. help refining it. and making the flowchart of course," he laughs.
sho laughs along with him and takes a steadying sip of tea, and then decides he needs more steadying and drains the cup. "so, what are we planning?" he says.
aiba beams again at his use of 'we'. "oh!" the smile fades a little and sho sees a flash of that unnerving serious darkness in his eyes, and then it's gone again, like a pale curtain twitching into place. "the perfect plan to make matsujun mine."
sho looks automatically at his teacup, but it's empty. "do you have some alcohol?" he says.
aiba frowns. "maybe. do you think that's a good idea?"
"just a little," sho bargains, and aiba bounces out of his chair and rummages in the cabinet over the refridgerator.
"i have some beer i think," aiba hums, "there's some vodka, no - what about some sake - no, that's cooking sake, why do i have that? here's a beer!"
as aiba hands it to him sho says, "so did you say, 'to make matsujun mine', just now?"
"you see," says aiba solemnly, "so it has to be a good plan."
sho sighs and smiles at aiba. "i think one beer is probably just about right," he says. "but a flowchart? i'm not sure where to start."
aiba settles eagerly into his chair again, and pushes the stack of magazines at sho. the top three are cosmopolitan. "that," says aiba proudly, "is why i got these."
"you got women's magazines to plan how to make matsujun yours?"
aiba looks shocked. "what? no. those are just for making the chart."
13. aiba's diner, 811 words. a glimpse of an au in which aiba owns a diner and nino is one of his buddies from cooking school.
it's nino's distinctive and unmistakeable voice that draws aiba's attention away from trying to turn a crepe without wrinkling it (french cuisine isn't exactly his specialty, but he likes to try things out of his cookbook collection when there aren't many customers in the diner and he's got some free time). when he looks up ninomiya's standing and waving at him from the end of the booth sho and jun, two of the regulars, claimed a few minutes ago when sho talked jun into putting aside his studying and having a drink. "aiba-chan," nino repeats, "come sit with us!" he acts like he knows the two of them, and then when he sits down, he slings a familiar arm around jun's shoulders, which kind of confirms that idea. how does ninomiya know jun, when after all the months he's come here aiba barely does; even sho-chan and jun have never sat down together like this before, and it was sho-chan who brought jun here in the first place.
aiba forces himself to grin back at him and waves. "okay!" he says, "um, just a second," and looks back down at the crepe in the pan. when he glances up under his eyelashes at the scene jun is leaning over the table, laughing, a broader version of his unforgettable smile stretching over his whole entire face, and nino is patting him on the back.
there's a funny feeling like a cold heavy finger touching the middle of aiba's chest on the inside, right between the two halves of his ribs. for a second he thinks, oh no, what if i'm getting sick again, and then the feeling fades and jun glances across the table at sho, smile fading, and his long black eyelashes curl on his cheek, and aiba notices again how pretty they are, and the feeling comes back. nino pats jun's shoulder, avuncular, and wrinkles his nose, and jun rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning away from nino in the booth, and aiba sighs a little to himself, and flips the perfect crepe out of the pan onto a plate and sprinkles it with powdered sugar.
he takes it with him to the table. "hey, everyone," he grins. "nino, sho-chan, jun. anybody want a crepe?"
nino lifts his nose with the superiority of a chef who once spent two hours trying to teach aiba to flip american pancakes before giving up in disgust, but sho waves aiba into the booth beside him and jun perks up and leans over the table: "i do!"
"okay, don't share," sho laughs, but aiba's already pushed the plate over the table to jun.
"sorry, do you want another? I have the rest of the batter over there -" aiba starts to rise from his seat, but before he can jun leans over the table and catches his wrist. aiba stops and he's afraid his mouth is hanging stupidly open at the quirky half-smile jun has turned on him.
"hold on," he says, cutting a bite deftly with the fork in his other hand. "don't you want to try this one first?" it's good that he doesn't wait for an answer, because aiba is both afraid of stuttering and not at all sure what to say. jun holds the fork up to aiba's mouth, eyes twinkling mischievously at him from the other side of the table. his thumbnail on the handle of the fork is painted metallic pink. aiba's mouth opens automatically, and jun leans forward and leans on the edge of the table to feed him the bite.
it's quite a good crepe, although, aiba notices, it seems a little salty. the butter flavour is very pleasant. jun pulls the fork back and sits down, as gracefully and smoothly as ever, making aiba feel awkward and clumsy in comparison even though he's sitting still. nino, slouching on the bench next to him, snickers quietly, and aiba swallows and says hurriedly, "it's good! what a relief. i haven't made crepes that often." nino is too observant for aiba's good, and he delights in finding things that will make other people uncomfortable and hoarding them to exploit at the worst possible moment.
he meets nino's eyes, but nino's smile is warm. "hey, jun," he says without dropping his eyes from aiba, "if you wanted to switch places with me all you had to do was say."
jun elbows him in the side without missing a beat. "i don't, but if you wanted to switch places with aiba i wouldn't have any argument."
aiba stands up so suddenly that he bumps into the table. "i'm going to make the rest of the crepes," he babbles, but he doesn't get away without catching jun's eye again. his amused smile is even warmer than nino's, and his eyes follow aiba back behind the counter.
14. learning spanish, 333 words.
"hello everybody!" aiba chirps, dropping a plastic bag on the table.
"what's this?" says sho, peeking in the top of the bag.
"just some bebidas i picked up on my way at the tienda!" aiba giggles.
nino says flatly, "what the fuck is he talking about?"
"is he still learning spanish?" says jun, lifting one eyebrow. "that bag had better not be full of tequila."
"no, but i can volver," says aiba, with a perfectly innocent expression.
nino starts to put his head down on the table, and changes his mind and puts it on sho's shoulder instead.
"i want a bebida," says jun, and nino can hear the smirk.
"make it stop, sho-chan," he mumbles, getting a mouthful of oxford collar for his trouble. sho pats nino's hand absently.
there's a little plastic crackling and aiba extricating cans from a sixpack and then a thunk: "para ti, and para sho - leader?"
"huh?" says ohno.
"para ti?"
"huh?" says ohno again, and nino falls slightly more in love with him, and is moved to lift his face from sho's shoulder long enough to take in a glimpse of his blank expression.
"well, here you go, anyway," says aiba, mercifully entirely in japanese. "and nino, voila."
nino says loudly, "isn't that french?" and abandons sho's shoulder to drop his head forehead-first on the table. he feels a touch on the back of his neck, light and long-fingered and thus ohno's.
ohno fingers the collar of nino's shirt absently and lets his palm slide onto the flat of nino's shoulderblade. "is something wrong?" he says, and nino squashes the urge to laugh and and instead arches a little into his palm.
"nino's not happy that i habla español," says aiba, in a stage-whisper.
there's a thinking silence from ohno, but when nino peeks up at him he's just taking a drink of his beer. he doesn't catch nino's eye, but his thumb curls and strokes nino's spine through his shirt, and nino sighs, resigned.
15. secret, 673 words.
"what are you going to do?" ninomiya asks, following ohno into his hotel room.
"draw a little," ohno smiles, and turns to look at ninomiya only to find that he's already right there, behind ohno.
ninomiya says right away, "cool," but ohno nonetheless has the impression that he only says this because he thought about it and decided he was okay with that response. this is still funny, even though ohno has already gotten used to ninomiya's personality in the last few months, so it's not exactly surprising.
"well, you can have the bed," ohno offers, taking the top sketchpad out of his suitcase.
"mmm," says ninomiya thoughtfully, "it's your bed, come on, sit on it, there's not even a chair in here." he pulls ohno down onto the side of the bed by his elbow, and then, instead of moving out of the way, stretches and curls his body into the empty parts of the bed around ohno as if he is a tremendous cat. his eyes are bright and laughing.
ohno gives him a bemused smile and turns back to his sketchpad.
"i can call you ohchan, can't i?" ninomiya murmurs later, when ohno has drawn half the top of the dresser, and gotten a little sidetracked in the folds of fabric he glimpses in the open top drawer.
ohno blinks, but he can't imagine any reason why not, so he tells ninomiya, "yes."
ninomiya makes a pleased humming noise and the bed moves a little as he shifts his weight; then he puts his hand on ohno's leg, just below where the sketchpad rests, and ohno glances down, surprised, into his face. he looks happy and sleepy, his eyes half-closed, but he's smiling softly and widely, like he has some wonderful secret.
ohno has the distracting thought that he wants to know what it is. there's a tiny shadow at the corner of ninomiya's mouth that isn't usually there, provided by the special satisfied shape of his smile and little crease like a dimple. he only realises that he is staring when ninomiya commands quietly, "call me nino then, okay?"
"nino," ohno repeats, and nino smiles up at him so brilliantly that ohno's heart pounds heavily, and he takes his hand off the sketchpad to stroke it through nino's hair. then he goes back to sketching and finishes the whole top of the dresser, even the mirror with his own small face in it, and nino's long body stretched out behind him.
"hey," he says later, when he is moving down to the bottom of the dresser and spreading out to shade the wall behind it.
"yeah," says nino, without so much as twitching. his hand is still on ohno's leg.
"aren't you bored? i mean - why do you follow me?" it's not just this afternoon. aiba was teasing nino about it at breakfast two days ago, and nino laughed along with everyone else and hooked his chin sleepily over ohno's shoulder.
"because i want to," nino says simply, and when ohno looks down he's turned his whole face towards ohno. that smile still lurks in the corner of his mouth and his eyes are almost entirely closed, glimmering with that same secretive happiness under his eyelids. "i like you. but as for being bored, if you'd rather play gameboy i wouldn't mind."
ohno stares at him for a long, long moment, and nino just stares back at him, as calm and relaxed as a cat. when he takes a deep breath, ohno is surprised to realise he has been holding it. he feels a little dizzy, but he's not sure if that's from lack of oxygen or the startling feeling that he and nino are the only stationary objects and the rest of the room has come unmoored around them. "i'm not very good at gameboy," he hears himself say.
"that's okay."
"but i can play with you if you want, maybe."
nino laughs and turns his face back into the blanket. "that's why i like you, ohchan."
arashi rps, ohno satoshi/ninomiya kazunari, pg
1. public displays of affection (126 words)
aes: the first time it was, like... they played rock paper scissors. and if ohno won, they didn't kiss, and if nino won they would
aes: and nino won! so :D
cimness: ahhaha. nino's always lobbying for PDAs.
aes: he's the molester, for sure XD
"it's your turn to do the dishes."
"and so?"
"i'm just saying. you knew that, right?"
"yes."
"well, i could do them."
"hm?"
"if you let me kiss you on camera tomorrow."
ohno levels a considering look at nino. nino is heartened to see that this isn't ohno's look which considers how seriously nino is unhinged or how quickly he can argue nino around to his point of view. it is his look which considers how much he is willing to bargain before he gives in. "how long?" says ohno.
"oh," says nino, "how about ten seconds."
"no," says ohno, "that's okay - "
"two seconds," says nino instantly.
"done."
nino goes to fill the sink, but he stops on his way to kiss ohno first.
2. matching shoes (131 words)
the phone rings three times, and ohno's mom sounds distracted when she picks it up, but not unhappy.
it's loud behind her, so ohno says, "ah, mom, are you already in the department store?"
"i thought i'd come early and eat lunch in the cafe!" she says. "i love seeing people shopping for their christmas presents. so many cute little children and - "
ohno thinks his mother is crazy. how can you like shopping in a crowded department store? "say, mom, when you buy my shoes, um - "
"oh! yes?"
"well... there was an accident with nino's shoes, so - could you get another pair?"
in the corner, aiba covers his mouth and elbows nino in the side. "having your mom buy *your* clothes is bad enough," says jun.
3. hands (443 words)
inspired by the "sunken onsen" episode of mago mago arashi:
the grandma holds nino's hand so much that by the end of the day the grandpa catches on and starts to hold ohno's too. his skin is warm and leathery, his grip firm in that odd way that old people have, like the flesh has melted away between skin and bone and the sharpness of bones presses against ohno's hand like wires. but he's nothing to the grandma. she seems like the sentimental type and of course, she's fallen in love with nino like so many people do. she has a deathgrip on him with both of her bent little hands. nino's standing casually with his weight on only one foot, his other hand on his hip. he doesn't pull away, doesn't do anything, just returns the grip, because nino is never gracious; he's grumpy and childish or else happy and childish, so genuine he puts everyone at ease. especially ohno.
as they're walking from the grandparents' house to the van that night, the camera and sound crews drawing ahead of them until they're almost alone, nino switches the umbrella to his right hand so he can flex his left. "ah," he winces, and flexes it again, stretching out all the fingers. tendons stand out on the back of it. "that grandma had a great grip. my hand still feels squished."
"was it that strong?" says ohno.
"it was really something," nino replies, and shakes his hand a little, but he's smiling, so ohno knows it doesn't really hurt. "how's your head?"
"ah, when i was painting the window was open, so i'm okay," ohno says. "it didn't smell that much."
"mm," says nino, "you know, ohchan, somehow i feel really touched. that grandma really wanted to hold my hand." he turns his hand over and looks at the back and the front like he's never seen it before. "i can still feel the where her hand and all her fingers were, i think. my hand feels a little empty."
ohno reaches out right away and forgets the umbrella's in his right hand, so he has to switch it quickly before he can take nino's hand. he folds his hand around it and laces their fingers together and touches the back with his thumb, the familiar ripples of the tendons and shapes of nino's knuckles, until he thinks he must have erased any trace of emptiness.
he looks up and nino smiles at him and moves closer until their shoulders bump, and then their umbrellas knock together. but nino moves his umbrella out of the way instead of stepping back. "leader, thank you," nino says. ohno tilts his umbrella to cover nino's head.
4. grouchy nino (325 words)
inspired by (but not actually related to!) the okinawa episode of mago mago arashi:
"what do you want," nino groaned through his fingers, jerking his elbow out of ohno's grasp again, but not as hard as the first time, in case ohno got the wrong idea and stopped touching him.
ohno blinked at him, expressionless, and then looked down and away. nino recognised this instantly as ohno's attempt to hide a smile. ohno tried not to let nino see his amusement when he felt nino was behaving badly out of a misguided desire not to encourage nino. he didn't realise this strategy was counter-productive because of how cute he was biting his lips and suppressing a smile, his hands propped on his hips like that.
"come on," said nino, "what?" and tilted his head closer.
"um," said ohno, "it's - nothing." as a gesture of conciliation, he let his hand linger on nino's wrist, and then put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight so their arms were touching in several places.
nino sighed, but he leaned back a little into the touch.
"actually," he heard then, very close to his ear, "it's this," and before he could move ohno's arm was around his waist and breath was on his ear.
nino was smiling already, almost against his will, certainly without his conscious decision, as he turned around to face ohno half-laughing, "what - "
and ohno mumbled something that might have been "i like - " just before his mouth skimmed nino's cheek and fluttered for the length of a heartbeat at the corner of his lips as soft as a sigh. he pulled back, and he was just crazy enough that nino could believe he was actually planning to move away.
he never had a chance.
"was that all?" nino asked contentedly a minute later.
ohno stared at him, eyes wide and dazed, mouth flushed and wet, and moved his hand idly against the small of nino's back. he answered distractedly: "was that all what?"
5. shopping for ohno (546 words)
"come on," nino says, "you can't tell me you would buy that for yourself!"
ohno isn't looking at him, but he turns to blink at nino at that. "what? this?"
"would you?" nino repeats.
"ahhhh. i guess not." ohno puts his hands on his hips and blinks, considering. then he comes to his conclusion and says "ah!", with an air of surprise. "nino, you can buy them, if you want to... ?"
that wasn't actually what nino was driving at, but he doesn't hesitate: "okay!" he says. besides - he does kind of want to. it might be ridiculous to be jealous of ohno's mother, but nobody has ever said that nino was reasonable about ohno.
but ohno is surprised by his quick response. "what - now?"
for a few hours nino takes ohno into and out of stores, pushes him gently into the dressing rooms with his arms full of clothes and pulls him out again, smoothing his lapels and straightening his cuffs. a few times he follows ohno into the dressing rooms and manhandles him into and out of the suits, and ohno stands there obediently like a doll, his eyes bright and tracking nino's movements, his face breaking into a smile when nino smiles.
when nino is looking over ohno's shoulder at a mirror in a department store dressing room, ohno makes his first relevant comment. "do you really think a purple suit?" he says.
"ah," nino hums, "i didn't think you noticed what i was putting you in."
"what - i'm wearing it!" says ohno. nino smooths the drape of the trousers over his hips and flanks, around his thighs and lingers on his ass, but ohno makes no comment, just turns to give nino a distracted and affectionate secret smile.
"i wasn't sure you were paying attention," nino explains.
the thing about ohno is that he's so completely transparent that whenever he is interested in something there can be no doubt at all that he is. when a suit takes his fancy he stands in front of the mirror looking at himself, tracing the outline of the lapel with his fingertip.
"oh, ohchan found one he likes, huh?" nino says, satisfied.
ohno replies without really answering, "hey, doesn't it remind you of that photoshoot we did with the fruit bowl that didn't have any bananas?" then he adjusts his cuffs again, and nino smirks fondly at him.
when nino decrees: this one!, ohno asks in surprise, "are you done?"
nino says, "we'll buy this one if ohchan likes it," tipping his head close to ohno's ear and making ohno blush.
ohno still intends to pay then, and he gets out his wallet, but nino takes the suit and the wallet both away from him and tucks the wallet back in ohno's pocket. "you said i could buy it and i said i was going to - didn't i?"
ohno smiles at him, kind of slowly, a little bit like he is embarrassed in case he is caught at it in public. he takes a step closer, till nino can feel warmth along his arm and the side of his body, and reaches out to touch the suit again. and he drops the subject. ohno knows when not to argue with nino.
unrelated and pointless snippets by cimorene
arashi rps, ohno satoshi/ninomiya kazunari, pg; #8 suggests aiba masaki/matsumoto jun, also pg
6. dreaming (384 words)
inspired by and set during the "shy granny" episode of mago mago arashi:
ohno was dreaming that he and his sister were in a boat made out of tinfoil sailing into the open mouth of a giant seashell when he startled awake with something on his forehead. the touch was gentle, so he woke slowly in a long lazy moment, and the first thing he saw was nino, bending over him and silhouetted against the light, smiling soft-eyed down at ohno.
ohno moved his head a little and arched his neck, still sleep-foggy and wondering distractedly why a boat of tinfoil, and would the inside of a conch shell really look like that and could he paint it (maybe with acrylics, no, maybe chalk pastels). he blinked once and nino shifted a little; one of his hands was braced on the floor near ohno's head, and ohno rolled over towards it, his whole body curling automatically in a slow luxurious stretch and his eyes fluttering closed, and he yawned and touched the back of nino's hand. (nino talked about ohno's hands - that is, not a lot, but he'd gotten on the subject once or twice, and since then ohno had noticed the way he went wide-eyed and breathless sometimes, watching ohno's hands on his body - but ohno loved nino's hands; they were neat and capable, faintly brown, relaxed and sometimes graceful and very nino.)
then he could sense nino leaning closer over him even before he opened his eyes, and he could feel nino gently touching the side of his face. he opened them and nino's face was so near, his mouth curved in the little smile that made ohno's heart leap because it was only for ohno. nino's mouth was open like he was going to say something, but no sound came out as he traced ohno's cheekbone and down to ohno's lips with the backs of his fingers.
it was only an instant that nino touched the centre of his mouth, and only with the edge of his pinky; but it was like a kiss, as soft and electric, and ohno felt it as something more lingering because his whole body was trained to respond to nino's touch. his hand even curled involuntarily in response, a tiny shock of pleasure which left him completely awake, unable even to remember what he'd been dreaming.
7. somehow i doubt it (123 words )
nino: i'm bored
ohno: really? i'm sketching.
nino: yea. come over
ohno: me come over? when?
nino: now, dumbass
ohno: i'm almost done with the head part. i could catch the next train after i finish.
nino: you can draw me instead, naked
ohno: draw you naked?
nino: ohhhhhhchaaan? u there?
ohno: oh, sorry, i was thinking. i don't know if that's a good idea. i mean, would it work?
nino: yes
ohno: i mean if i'm trying to draw, but nino's lying there naked in front of me, i might be distracted.
nino: somehow i doubt it
nino: but you can draw after we have sex
nino: or not at all
nino: but whatever, are you coming? if you aren't i am
8. spit or swallow (417 words)
inspired by and set after this episode of arashi no waza-ari in which aiba and jun play golf [link goes to youtube].
aiba and sho are the first ones in the restaurant, and have some time to kill while they're waiting for ohno and nino, who will certainly arrive on time but probably only barely and definitely together, and jun, who will probably arrive exactly on time but whenever he does will definitely make an entrance. aiba, who spent most of the day filming outside with too few outer layers on, is wearing two jackets and a scarf, and has already ordered alcohol. (sho ordered him tea, too, but it's the alcohol aiba is counting on.) "how did it go today?" says sho.
"cold," says aiba.
"it's not cold here," sho points out cautiously.
"i know," says aiba crisply, "i'm still recovering."
"oh. well - what else?" says sho.
"hmmm..." aiba smirks and waggles his eyebrows at sho, "we finally found out for sure about matsujun: he wants to spit, but he swallows in the end."
hands land on his shoulders and aiba jumps, but before he has time to turn around matsujun's voice drawls in his ear, "you should have known that already. i'm surprised you ever doubted it."
sho looks torn between amusement and mild panic. "you guys were filming today, right?"
"mmm," jun agrees, leaning more comfortably on the back of aiba's chair and slinging an arm around his neck. "masaki made that sound a lot more interesting than it was - unfortunately."
aiba leans to the side and cranes his head around to look at jun, who turns out to have a self-satisfied curl of smile on his face, his eyes lit up, a little like he looked as he, well, swallowed.
"it was interesting," aiba says firmly, and jun throws him an amused glance.
"maybe you should stop there," says sho. "i'll just watch the episode."
aiba, ignoring sho entirely, eventually gives under the pressure of jun's amused eyebrow quirk: "okay, not that interesting." at this sign of victory jun starts to lazily unfold himself from the back of aiba's chair. "i'll have to get back to you about the other, sho-chan," aiba adds, with no change from his wide-eyed expression from before.
sho chokes on his sake; nino comes around the corner dragging leader by the hand, takes one glance at them and says, "what did i miss?"
and jun freezes, halfway between his sensual self-confident teasing draped-over-a-chair sprawl and standing up, and blinks before he starts to laugh. aiba settles back in his chair, careful to hide his smile in his scarf.
9. to be expected (561 words)
nino is lounging possessively in ohno's lap, spread out over most of the couch and most of ohno, while he explains to sho just what it is that makes good won-ton soup (he has been trying to insist that the value of pepper is empirical, not a matter of taste, and wants to prove it with popularity. sho is trying to keep the discussion from veering into statistics at any cost; he knows how nino loves to make statistics up. he delights in arguing as nonsensically as possible until sho can't remember what they were talking about any longer). after a while ohno apparently thinks of something else more important to do than providing a body pillow for nino. this is actually a bit remarkable: ohno has been known to skip lunches and bathroom breaks entirely out of a desire not to dislodge nino from his lap, when nino is asleep.
but nino is awake now, and he responds absently to ohno's stroking his shoulder blade by shifting around to let ohno get up.
apparently ohno was thirsty. sho can hear the sounds of his kettle being filled and turned on, and the cabinets and drawers opening and closing for tea ingredients (more doors than you need to make tea, but that's expected with ohno, that he opens the wrong cabinet first.)
"what i'm saying is, obviously people don't just like pepper for no reason," says nino, "they like it because it tastes good."
"not when you use as much of it as you like, it doesn't," sho retorts. he calls into the kitchen, "isn't that right, ohno-kun?"
ohno appears in the kitchen doorway with sho's dishtowel in his hands. "huh?" he says, and then "oh, yeah, right," but it's obvious he has no idea what he's agreeing to. everybody laughs; nino's chuckling has a smug air, and he's getting a little cosier with sho's couch cushions than sho feels he really should with anybody (or anything) except ohno, and even then, not in public.
ohno - who apparently doesn't consider sho's couch cushions to be any worrying kind of competition - drifts back into the kitchen.
jun calls after him, "CHIPS!"
a moment later ohno comes back out with chips for jun - he just hands him the whole bag, but he pauses to rip it open first because they all know from experience that if he didn't, jun would probably hand it back to him with a pointed and demanding look. "ah!" he exclaims then, "i forgot my tea - " and vanishes into the kitchen again.
this time when he emerges he's carrying a steaming teacup, and he sets it on a coaster on the coffee table and starts to lower himself onto the couch in the tiny piece at the end not occupied by nino. but then ohno glances at nino, and their eyes meet and some kind of alarmingly psychic ohmiya sk communiqué passes between them. (it's a good thing nino hasn't twigged, yet, that their supernatural abilities could be useful for playing practical jokes. none of them would be safe ever again.) nino doesn't even make a face or anything, but ohno just - reverses his direction and stands up again. sho doesn't even have any idea what he's doing until he comes back a third time with a second cup of tea for nino.
10. winter sunlight (277 words)
inspired by and set during the "old-style dance" episode of mago mago arashi:
nino loves to watch ohno dance. he can do it for hours, though he doesn't usually have to do it for very long and keep his hands to himself. of course he doesn't mind just watching ohno sometimes - watching ohno and thinking about touching him, thinking about how ohno is his to touch - watching the sweat bead at his hairline and knowing how it smells, watching his pants stretch at his thighs when he moves his feet. this old-fashioned dance is a lot slower than their usual dancing, though. nino worries he's going to fall off-beat with his drumming if ohno keeps standing like that, so graceful, loose and limber and strong and full of coiled energy. nino isn't even sitting close enough to see the sweat on ohno's face anymore, but that doesn't stop him from thinking about it. he knows it's there, though the room is cold; he can see ohno panting a little, and taking those big stomping steps. squatting like that must be rough on his knees - nino can see how tense his legs are - but ohno doesn't show it, and nino isn't really thinking about that what with the way he can't tear his eyes away from ohno's thighs. nino tries counting the beats, tries looking at the drum, but he can count drum beats in his sleep, and he can't look only down at the drum when ohno's on the other side of it, sweating and stomping and twirling, with cold winter sunlight pouring all over him touching all the places nino wants to be touching...
nino's actually glad to leave before ohno finishes practising the dance.
unrelated and pointless ficlets by cimorene
arashi rps: matsumoto jun /aiba masaki and ohno satoshi/ninomiya kazunari; #12 is sho & aiba bff with the jun/aiba only implied.
11. algebra, 135 words, inspired by a discussion about aiba taking up algebra as a hobby. i can't remember the context that would make that seem less bizarre, but given the fandom, i think any amount of crack is basically excusable, don't you?
"oh no!" aiba is saying breathlessly when ohno wanders back into the living room dazedly an hour after he left, the collar of his shirt askew and a red mark on his neck.
by this point jun and sho have both started ignoring aiba, but ohno takes the bait. "what?"
"i think i've been looking at numbers for too long!" aiba says. "they're not making sense anymore! leader, what's seven times eight?"
ohno frowns. "um. seventy-eight? no, fifty-six."
"oh?" aiba blinks, and the blinking is not cute, jun thinks firmly, and he's not watching aiba, he is reading this book. he looks firmly down at the book. "i was right," aiba mutters, and his pencil scratches some more.
who is jun kidding? aiba is totally cute. he sighs and puts the bookmark in his book.
12. flowchart, 810 words.
"you came!" says aiba happily, and makes a movement that seems divided between clapping his hands and opening the closet to let sho put his coat in it; it's lucky that the motion is aborted in mid-bounce and aiba instead bounds into the kitchen at the sound of the tea kettle coming to a boil, because had he opened the closet it would certainly have hit sho in the face.
"i did," sho agrees, hanging up his coat all by himself, "is that tea? i thought something was wrong from the five hundred text messages i received today confirming i was actually coming." he had not, in fact, thought anything was wrong, because sho knows aiba-chan, but the text messages have had the effect of screwing his curiosity about what aiba can be up to to the point of insatiable hunger. he half expects the kitchen to be covered in plastic sheets and buckets of tie dye, or something to do with animals, or another (sho shudders) failed baking experiment. however, the kitchen is clean, except for a stack of books, a stack of magazines, and a blank pad of lined paper and a pencil. aiba is eagerly pouring the tea.
"oh no!" says aiba. "i'm sorry," but his grin isn't sorry at all, "there's nothing wrong at all - oh wait, the tea has to brew first! do you want some cake?"
sho's eyes go round. "have you been baking today, and the kitchen's still clean?"
aiba laughs like sho has made a joke. "i bought it!"
sho eats a piece and a half of cake and listens to a long story about the little old lady who didn't want to allow aiba to help her across the street and the bicycle aiba borrowed from a paper delivery boy before he finally ventures, "what are we doing tonight?", and all the laughter goes slowly out of aiba-chan's eyes like a light being snuffed behind a window, or curiously like a dark being kindled: the expression of solemnity which replaces it is a little chilling, but not completely alien.
aiba tilts his head and says, "i need some help, i think. you're good at flowcharts."
sho thinks of several responses and settles on, "you think so?"
"i'm going to make a plan - finish making up a plan," aiba corrects himself, "possibly with a flowchart, i think that would be good, which is good for plans, but maybe another kind of chart would work - and anyway i have plenty of paper to make notes, you see?"
"i see," says sho, hoping this will encourage aiba to come to the end of his original sentence.
aiba's smile returns. "you don't only have to eat cake, we can get food if you want, only sho-chan will help me, won't he? i mean, i don't know if - it has to be a good plan, i've always been very careful, and i can't afford to mess it up now,"
at which point sho interrupts, "i see, but what - " but aiba doesn't even slow down:
"- so i'd appreciate it if sho-chan would help with the plan. i don't want you to make it, i just need your opinion. help refining it. and making the flowchart of course," he laughs.
sho laughs along with him and takes a steadying sip of tea, and then decides he needs more steadying and drains the cup. "so, what are we planning?" he says.
aiba beams again at his use of 'we'. "oh!" the smile fades a little and sho sees a flash of that unnerving serious darkness in his eyes, and then it's gone again, like a pale curtain twitching into place. "the perfect plan to make matsujun mine."
sho looks automatically at his teacup, but it's empty. "do you have some alcohol?" he says.
aiba frowns. "maybe. do you think that's a good idea?"
"just a little," sho bargains, and aiba bounces out of his chair and rummages in the cabinet over the refridgerator.
"i have some beer i think," aiba hums, "there's some vodka, no - what about some sake - no, that's cooking sake, why do i have that? here's a beer!"
as aiba hands it to him sho says, "so did you say, 'to make matsujun mine', just now?"
"you see," says aiba solemnly, "so it has to be a good plan."
sho sighs and smiles at aiba. "i think one beer is probably just about right," he says. "but a flowchart? i'm not sure where to start."
aiba settles eagerly into his chair again, and pushes the stack of magazines at sho. the top three are cosmopolitan. "that," says aiba proudly, "is why i got these."
"you got women's magazines to plan how to make matsujun yours?"
aiba looks shocked. "what? no. those are just for making the chart."
13. aiba's diner, 811 words. a glimpse of an au in which aiba owns a diner and nino is one of his buddies from cooking school.
it's nino's distinctive and unmistakeable voice that draws aiba's attention away from trying to turn a crepe without wrinkling it (french cuisine isn't exactly his specialty, but he likes to try things out of his cookbook collection when there aren't many customers in the diner and he's got some free time). when he looks up ninomiya's standing and waving at him from the end of the booth sho and jun, two of the regulars, claimed a few minutes ago when sho talked jun into putting aside his studying and having a drink. "aiba-chan," nino repeats, "come sit with us!" he acts like he knows the two of them, and then when he sits down, he slings a familiar arm around jun's shoulders, which kind of confirms that idea. how does ninomiya know jun, when after all the months he's come here aiba barely does; even sho-chan and jun have never sat down together like this before, and it was sho-chan who brought jun here in the first place.
aiba forces himself to grin back at him and waves. "okay!" he says, "um, just a second," and looks back down at the crepe in the pan. when he glances up under his eyelashes at the scene jun is leaning over the table, laughing, a broader version of his unforgettable smile stretching over his whole entire face, and nino is patting him on the back.
there's a funny feeling like a cold heavy finger touching the middle of aiba's chest on the inside, right between the two halves of his ribs. for a second he thinks, oh no, what if i'm getting sick again, and then the feeling fades and jun glances across the table at sho, smile fading, and his long black eyelashes curl on his cheek, and aiba notices again how pretty they are, and the feeling comes back. nino pats jun's shoulder, avuncular, and wrinkles his nose, and jun rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning away from nino in the booth, and aiba sighs a little to himself, and flips the perfect crepe out of the pan onto a plate and sprinkles it with powdered sugar.
he takes it with him to the table. "hey, everyone," he grins. "nino, sho-chan, jun. anybody want a crepe?"
nino lifts his nose with the superiority of a chef who once spent two hours trying to teach aiba to flip american pancakes before giving up in disgust, but sho waves aiba into the booth beside him and jun perks up and leans over the table: "i do!"
"okay, don't share," sho laughs, but aiba's already pushed the plate over the table to jun.
"sorry, do you want another? I have the rest of the batter over there -" aiba starts to rise from his seat, but before he can jun leans over the table and catches his wrist. aiba stops and he's afraid his mouth is hanging stupidly open at the quirky half-smile jun has turned on him.
"hold on," he says, cutting a bite deftly with the fork in his other hand. "don't you want to try this one first?" it's good that he doesn't wait for an answer, because aiba is both afraid of stuttering and not at all sure what to say. jun holds the fork up to aiba's mouth, eyes twinkling mischievously at him from the other side of the table. his thumbnail on the handle of the fork is painted metallic pink. aiba's mouth opens automatically, and jun leans forward and leans on the edge of the table to feed him the bite.
it's quite a good crepe, although, aiba notices, it seems a little salty. the butter flavour is very pleasant. jun pulls the fork back and sits down, as gracefully and smoothly as ever, making aiba feel awkward and clumsy in comparison even though he's sitting still. nino, slouching on the bench next to him, snickers quietly, and aiba swallows and says hurriedly, "it's good! what a relief. i haven't made crepes that often." nino is too observant for aiba's good, and he delights in finding things that will make other people uncomfortable and hoarding them to exploit at the worst possible moment.
he meets nino's eyes, but nino's smile is warm. "hey, jun," he says without dropping his eyes from aiba, "if you wanted to switch places with me all you had to do was say."
jun elbows him in the side without missing a beat. "i don't, but if you wanted to switch places with aiba i wouldn't have any argument."
aiba stands up so suddenly that he bumps into the table. "i'm going to make the rest of the crepes," he babbles, but he doesn't get away without catching jun's eye again. his amused smile is even warmer than nino's, and his eyes follow aiba back behind the counter.
14. learning spanish, 333 words.
"hello everybody!" aiba chirps, dropping a plastic bag on the table.
"what's this?" says sho, peeking in the top of the bag.
"just some bebidas i picked up on my way at the tienda!" aiba giggles.
nino says flatly, "what the fuck is he talking about?"
"is he still learning spanish?" says jun, lifting one eyebrow. "that bag had better not be full of tequila."
"no, but i can volver," says aiba, with a perfectly innocent expression.
nino starts to put his head down on the table, and changes his mind and puts it on sho's shoulder instead.
"i want a bebida," says jun, and nino can hear the smirk.
"make it stop, sho-chan," he mumbles, getting a mouthful of oxford collar for his trouble. sho pats nino's hand absently.
there's a little plastic crackling and aiba extricating cans from a sixpack and then a thunk: "para ti, and para sho - leader?"
"huh?" says ohno.
"para ti?"
"huh?" says ohno again, and nino falls slightly more in love with him, and is moved to lift his face from sho's shoulder long enough to take in a glimpse of his blank expression.
"well, here you go, anyway," says aiba, mercifully entirely in japanese. "and nino, voila."
nino says loudly, "isn't that french?" and abandons sho's shoulder to drop his head forehead-first on the table. he feels a touch on the back of his neck, light and long-fingered and thus ohno's.
ohno fingers the collar of nino's shirt absently and lets his palm slide onto the flat of nino's shoulderblade. "is something wrong?" he says, and nino squashes the urge to laugh and and instead arches a little into his palm.
"nino's not happy that i habla español," says aiba, in a stage-whisper.
there's a thinking silence from ohno, but when nino peeks up at him he's just taking a drink of his beer. he doesn't catch nino's eye, but his thumb curls and strokes nino's spine through his shirt, and nino sighs, resigned.
15. secret, 673 words.
"what are you going to do?" ninomiya asks, following ohno into his hotel room.
"draw a little," ohno smiles, and turns to look at ninomiya only to find that he's already right there, behind ohno.
ninomiya says right away, "cool," but ohno nonetheless has the impression that he only says this because he thought about it and decided he was okay with that response. this is still funny, even though ohno has already gotten used to ninomiya's personality in the last few months, so it's not exactly surprising.
"well, you can have the bed," ohno offers, taking the top sketchpad out of his suitcase.
"mmm," says ninomiya thoughtfully, "it's your bed, come on, sit on it, there's not even a chair in here." he pulls ohno down onto the side of the bed by his elbow, and then, instead of moving out of the way, stretches and curls his body into the empty parts of the bed around ohno as if he is a tremendous cat. his eyes are bright and laughing.
ohno gives him a bemused smile and turns back to his sketchpad.
"i can call you ohchan, can't i?" ninomiya murmurs later, when ohno has drawn half the top of the dresser, and gotten a little sidetracked in the folds of fabric he glimpses in the open top drawer.
ohno blinks, but he can't imagine any reason why not, so he tells ninomiya, "yes."
ninomiya makes a pleased humming noise and the bed moves a little as he shifts his weight; then he puts his hand on ohno's leg, just below where the sketchpad rests, and ohno glances down, surprised, into his face. he looks happy and sleepy, his eyes half-closed, but he's smiling softly and widely, like he has some wonderful secret.
ohno has the distracting thought that he wants to know what it is. there's a tiny shadow at the corner of ninomiya's mouth that isn't usually there, provided by the special satisfied shape of his smile and little crease like a dimple. he only realises that he is staring when ninomiya commands quietly, "call me nino then, okay?"
"nino," ohno repeats, and nino smiles up at him so brilliantly that ohno's heart pounds heavily, and he takes his hand off the sketchpad to stroke it through nino's hair. then he goes back to sketching and finishes the whole top of the dresser, even the mirror with his own small face in it, and nino's long body stretched out behind him.
"hey," he says later, when he is moving down to the bottom of the dresser and spreading out to shade the wall behind it.
"yeah," says nino, without so much as twitching. his hand is still on ohno's leg.
"aren't you bored? i mean - why do you follow me?" it's not just this afternoon. aiba was teasing nino about it at breakfast two days ago, and nino laughed along with everyone else and hooked his chin sleepily over ohno's shoulder.
"because i want to," nino says simply, and when ohno looks down he's turned his whole face towards ohno. that smile still lurks in the corner of his mouth and his eyes are almost entirely closed, glimmering with that same secretive happiness under his eyelids. "i like you. but as for being bored, if you'd rather play gameboy i wouldn't mind."
ohno stares at him for a long, long moment, and nino just stares back at him, as calm and relaxed as a cat. when he takes a deep breath, ohno is surprised to realise he has been holding it. he feels a little dizzy, but he's not sure if that's from lack of oxygen or the startling feeling that he and nino are the only stationary objects and the rest of the room has come unmoored around them. "i'm not very good at gameboy," he hears himself say.
"that's okay."
"but i can play with you if you want, maybe."
nino laughs and turns his face back into the blanket. "that's why i like you, ohchan."
