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Up in the Air
Up in the Air
Pairing: Ohmiya
Rating: PG
Word Count: 846
Summary: Ohmiya and a rooftop. Sometimes Nino likes to be alone.
Ninomiya stood on the roof, the grainy concrete ledge chill beneath his hands, staring out across the the sky into infinite darkness. He couldn't see the stars, he couldn't see the moon. The lights of the city glittered like dewdrops through the fog, winking in and out in abstract patterns.
He lit another cigarette, fingers clumsy with cold.
Do you want to come out for a drink with us, Nino? Sho's voice was warmth; Jun and Aiba stood, waiting on his answer.
Nah, not this time, I've got plans.
Okay. Catch you later.
Sure.
The last time he did that, no one had known he was lying. Or at least, he had thought no one could tell, until Ohno had followed him out of the studio door, caught his arm, and given him a look--it cut past the layers that Nino himself didn't quite know how to push out of the way.
"I'll come with you," Ohno said, and Nino could already tell that any protest would have been of no use. Ohno gathered his hat (it was a really lame hat, in Nino's opinion; it had a blue poofball on the top, and his mother had knit it) and his bag and took Nino's hand, and that night he had shared his secret place on the rooftop with Ohno.
They hadn't said anything. Ohno had stood by his side, and Nino could feel the press of their bodies through his clothes as they watched over the city and the people who passed below them unaware.
But Ohno didn't always come. On nights like these, Nino could almost forget who he was--he could stare over the uncaring city and pretend that he was an alien, or a bird, or maybe a lost spirit who couldn't remember how he died, or even how he had lived.
Nino turned away, turned his back on all those busy windows with their busy people, craned his head back and stared up at the empty sky. Where was Ohno? Why hadn't he come this time? Nino imagined he must be holed up in his room, his fingers messy with charcoal, a smudge on his cheek and a vision-turned-drawing pouring onto the page.
He didn't remember hitting the 'call' button, but his phone was to his ear and ringing. His neck hurt.
"Hai. Nino? What's up?"
"Ohchan. ...Will you come over?" The clouds swept by above him, swirling, gray. It was almost dizzying. It was mystifying. Nino didn't recognize his own voice--it sounded like a stranger's.
"Okay. You're on the roof?"
"How did you know?" Nino finally stood up straight again, hand rubbing along his spine; the pressure was both soothing and painful at once.
"You have that abstracted sort of tone. I'll be there soon." He hung up, not giving Nino a chance to respond.
'Soon' was relative--'Soon' in Ohno's language still meant an hour, and Nino was rubbing his hands together and shimmying them up under his hoodie before he heard the heavy metal grating of the rooftop door opening. Ohno looked strange cutting through the fog towards Nino, his figure bulky and shadowed.
When he came near, resolved into distinct pieces--the bulkiness was his winter coat and the scarf around his neck that looked brown in the pale light but Nino knew to really be purple--Nino could see that he didn't, after all, have a smudge on his cheek. "Sorry I took so long. I missed the right train."
"Shut up." Nino's words didn't have any bite. He was reaching for Ohno already, and Ohno met him halfway, their fingers twining together.
"Man your hands are cold." Ohno almost made a move to shake away, his expression scrunched in protest, but he stepped closer instead, unzipping his jacket for Nino to burrow into. Nino pressed his nose into the familiar crook of Ohno's neck, making Ohno yelp--somehow it was almost colder, now that he had warmth. "Bad day?"
His voice was muffled into Ohno's skin: "Sorta."
Ohno's arms came around him, the nylon of his jacket whispering as it slid against Nino's. "I don't suppose we could go inside?"
"Not yet. I'm not done here, yet."
"Oh. ...Why?" Ohno's voice had that confused note that Nino had come to adore.
"Ah, I thought Ohchan had figured me out," Nino smiled, pulling back just enough, just enough to be able to see Ohno's face, to be able to feel Ohno's breath against the cold of his cheek. "I come here when I'm feeling antisocial. It makes me feel lonely... until I want to be with people again. Understand?"
"Not really." But Ohno smiled, and Nino laughed.
Nino kissed Ohno, then. He couldn't see the stars, and he couldn't see the moon, but when he opened his eyes he could see Ohno, and that was what mattered. "Let's go inside."
"Is it okay?" Ohno was so sincere, sometimes.
"Yes, Ohchan." Nino could feel himself smile, could see his smile mirrored on Ohno's face. "It's okay now."
original commentary here
originally written November 01 2006
Pairing: Ohmiya
Rating: PG
Word Count: 846
Summary: Ohmiya and a rooftop. Sometimes Nino likes to be alone.
Ninomiya stood on the roof, the grainy concrete ledge chill beneath his hands, staring out across the the sky into infinite darkness. He couldn't see the stars, he couldn't see the moon. The lights of the city glittered like dewdrops through the fog, winking in and out in abstract patterns.
He lit another cigarette, fingers clumsy with cold.
Do you want to come out for a drink with us, Nino? Sho's voice was warmth; Jun and Aiba stood, waiting on his answer.
Nah, not this time, I've got plans.
Okay. Catch you later.
Sure.
The last time he did that, no one had known he was lying. Or at least, he had thought no one could tell, until Ohno had followed him out of the studio door, caught his arm, and given him a look--it cut past the layers that Nino himself didn't quite know how to push out of the way.
"I'll come with you," Ohno said, and Nino could already tell that any protest would have been of no use. Ohno gathered his hat (it was a really lame hat, in Nino's opinion; it had a blue poofball on the top, and his mother had knit it) and his bag and took Nino's hand, and that night he had shared his secret place on the rooftop with Ohno.
They hadn't said anything. Ohno had stood by his side, and Nino could feel the press of their bodies through his clothes as they watched over the city and the people who passed below them unaware.
But Ohno didn't always come. On nights like these, Nino could almost forget who he was--he could stare over the uncaring city and pretend that he was an alien, or a bird, or maybe a lost spirit who couldn't remember how he died, or even how he had lived.
Nino turned away, turned his back on all those busy windows with their busy people, craned his head back and stared up at the empty sky. Where was Ohno? Why hadn't he come this time? Nino imagined he must be holed up in his room, his fingers messy with charcoal, a smudge on his cheek and a vision-turned-drawing pouring onto the page.
He didn't remember hitting the 'call' button, but his phone was to his ear and ringing. His neck hurt.
"Hai. Nino? What's up?"
"Ohchan. ...Will you come over?" The clouds swept by above him, swirling, gray. It was almost dizzying. It was mystifying. Nino didn't recognize his own voice--it sounded like a stranger's.
"Okay. You're on the roof?"
"How did you know?" Nino finally stood up straight again, hand rubbing along his spine; the pressure was both soothing and painful at once.
"You have that abstracted sort of tone. I'll be there soon." He hung up, not giving Nino a chance to respond.
'Soon' was relative--'Soon' in Ohno's language still meant an hour, and Nino was rubbing his hands together and shimmying them up under his hoodie before he heard the heavy metal grating of the rooftop door opening. Ohno looked strange cutting through the fog towards Nino, his figure bulky and shadowed.
When he came near, resolved into distinct pieces--the bulkiness was his winter coat and the scarf around his neck that looked brown in the pale light but Nino knew to really be purple--Nino could see that he didn't, after all, have a smudge on his cheek. "Sorry I took so long. I missed the right train."
"Shut up." Nino's words didn't have any bite. He was reaching for Ohno already, and Ohno met him halfway, their fingers twining together.
"Man your hands are cold." Ohno almost made a move to shake away, his expression scrunched in protest, but he stepped closer instead, unzipping his jacket for Nino to burrow into. Nino pressed his nose into the familiar crook of Ohno's neck, making Ohno yelp--somehow it was almost colder, now that he had warmth. "Bad day?"
His voice was muffled into Ohno's skin: "Sorta."
Ohno's arms came around him, the nylon of his jacket whispering as it slid against Nino's. "I don't suppose we could go inside?"
"Not yet. I'm not done here, yet."
"Oh. ...Why?" Ohno's voice had that confused note that Nino had come to adore.
"Ah, I thought Ohchan had figured me out," Nino smiled, pulling back just enough, just enough to be able to see Ohno's face, to be able to feel Ohno's breath against the cold of his cheek. "I come here when I'm feeling antisocial. It makes me feel lonely... until I want to be with people again. Understand?"
"Not really." But Ohno smiled, and Nino laughed.
Nino kissed Ohno, then. He couldn't see the stars, and he couldn't see the moon, but when he opened his eyes he could see Ohno, and that was what mattered. "Let's go inside."
"Is it okay?" Ohno was so sincere, sometimes.
"Yes, Ohchan." Nino could feel himself smile, could see his smile mirrored on Ohno's face. "It's okay now."
original commentary here
originally written November 01 2006