arashi, ohmiya. comfort.
i'm about to pass out, so any typos are to be expected. idk wth this is. i was like. yeah idk. weird. sleep time.
comfort
ohmiya, g, 678 wds.
Ohno spends a good portion of his winter wrapped up in way too many scarves, hidden under Nino’s bedcovers. His neck still gets really cold (for reasons he can’t seem to determine), but Nino’s sheets are soft and warm and welcoming.
Though Nino doesn’t get the chance to realise that Ohno’s occupying the space because he’s away on some important trip where they wear business suits. “That’s not really boy band-like,” Ohno had pouted childishly when Nino had told him the news. He knows that he can’t change it though, so he just deals with things in his own way. Like essentially invading private property. (But Ohno is tricky; he knows where Nino keeps the spare key, you see. There’s none of that breaking and entering jazz.)
His phone rings late one night, and Ohno reluctantly rolls out from under Nino’s blanket and grabs it.
A frustrated Jun reprimands him for being so hard to get in contact with and “where the hell are you Nino keeps giving me worried mother hen calls because your mobile was off or something and your mum kept answering at home with the standard ‘sorry he’s not here and I’m not really sure where he’s gone’ answer I am really sick of hearing about the same things over and over.”
Ohno mentally applauds Jun for getting it all in without a breath. Not that he really caught a word. He tells Jun sorry (it seems fitting) and also that if Nino calls again, Ohno’s phone is back in business - chargers are convenient items.
Somewhere along the way, Ohno gets caught up in it all and answers Nino’s home phone when it rings. Nino squeaks, not so subtly, “Why are you in my house!”
“...” is all Ohno manages.
“I had this idea you see, and well- no, that’s not completely true.” Nino starts again. “I had an inkling that you would be somewhere stupid, I just accidentally called my home number instead of Matsujun, and did not expect you of all people to answer. Whatever, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Ohno puts the phone down slowly, and blinks once, twice. Tired, he lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep though, really. Damn comfy sheets will be his undoing.
The next morning greets him with a playful fist to the stomach and a lazily dressed Nino straddling his legs, dress shirt untucked and tie loose around his neck.
“I don’t know why you’re in my house, but it’s kind of perverted if you think about it.” He pauses for effect. “Think about it.”
Ohno doesn’t get it. It’s too early in the morning, and it doesn’t help being fundamentally punched awake. It’s not helping him think at all. In fact, if anything, Ohno just feels hungry. “I’m hungry,” he tells Nino. Success will come of this, or so he hopes.
“I hate you,” Nino whimpers and flops himself down on top of Ohno. The scarves, he discovers, are extremely uncomfortable to lie on. “Ack, I’ll make breakfast if you just get rid of these things.”
A wide grin spreads itself across Ohno’s cheeks.
‘Making breakfast’ in Nino’s vocabulary apparently means ‘buying various breads from the convenience store down the road’. Devious, Ohno thinks. Devious.
“Devious,” Ohno says, out loud this time, and Nino just stares blankly.
As they’re munching away, Ohno grabs hold of Nino’s tie and tightens it around his neck. “Much smarter, Smart Nino,” he coos, and stuffs the last piece of bread in his mouth.
The tie makes it incredibly hard to eat anything. He slips his fingers through the loop and pulls at it, struggle level: max. He even has to use two hands at one point. He finally frees himself and takes the moment to actually think. “So why are you here?” he questions one more time.
“Because I can be?” Ohno shrugs. It makes sense to him at least.
Nino sighs and wraps the tie around Ohno’s head, covering his eyes. “Idiot,” he says, and then kisses him.
comfort
ohmiya, g, 678 wds.
Ohno spends a good portion of his winter wrapped up in way too many scarves, hidden under Nino’s bedcovers. His neck still gets really cold (for reasons he can’t seem to determine), but Nino’s sheets are soft and warm and welcoming.
Though Nino doesn’t get the chance to realise that Ohno’s occupying the space because he’s away on some important trip where they wear business suits. “That’s not really boy band-like,” Ohno had pouted childishly when Nino had told him the news. He knows that he can’t change it though, so he just deals with things in his own way. Like essentially invading private property. (But Ohno is tricky; he knows where Nino keeps the spare key, you see. There’s none of that breaking and entering jazz.)
His phone rings late one night, and Ohno reluctantly rolls out from under Nino’s blanket and grabs it.
A frustrated Jun reprimands him for being so hard to get in contact with and “where the hell are you Nino keeps giving me worried mother hen calls because your mobile was off or something and your mum kept answering at home with the standard ‘sorry he’s not here and I’m not really sure where he’s gone’ answer I am really sick of hearing about the same things over and over.”
Ohno mentally applauds Jun for getting it all in without a breath. Not that he really caught a word. He tells Jun sorry (it seems fitting) and also that if Nino calls again, Ohno’s phone is back in business - chargers are convenient items.
Somewhere along the way, Ohno gets caught up in it all and answers Nino’s home phone when it rings. Nino squeaks, not so subtly, “Why are you in my house!”
“...” is all Ohno manages.
“I had this idea you see, and well- no, that’s not completely true.” Nino starts again. “I had an inkling that you would be somewhere stupid, I just accidentally called my home number instead of Matsujun, and did not expect you of all people to answer. Whatever, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Ohno puts the phone down slowly, and blinks once, twice. Tired, he lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep though, really. Damn comfy sheets will be his undoing.
The next morning greets him with a playful fist to the stomach and a lazily dressed Nino straddling his legs, dress shirt untucked and tie loose around his neck.
“I don’t know why you’re in my house, but it’s kind of perverted if you think about it.” He pauses for effect. “Think about it.”
Ohno doesn’t get it. It’s too early in the morning, and it doesn’t help being fundamentally punched awake. It’s not helping him think at all. In fact, if anything, Ohno just feels hungry. “I’m hungry,” he tells Nino. Success will come of this, or so he hopes.
“I hate you,” Nino whimpers and flops himself down on top of Ohno. The scarves, he discovers, are extremely uncomfortable to lie on. “Ack, I’ll make breakfast if you just get rid of these things.”
A wide grin spreads itself across Ohno’s cheeks.
‘Making breakfast’ in Nino’s vocabulary apparently means ‘buying various breads from the convenience store down the road’. Devious, Ohno thinks. Devious.
“Devious,” Ohno says, out loud this time, and Nino just stares blankly.
As they’re munching away, Ohno grabs hold of Nino’s tie and tightens it around his neck. “Much smarter, Smart Nino,” he coos, and stuffs the last piece of bread in his mouth.
The tie makes it incredibly hard to eat anything. He slips his fingers through the loop and pulls at it, struggle level: max. He even has to use two hands at one point. He finally frees himself and takes the moment to actually think. “So why are you here?” he questions one more time.
“Because I can be?” Ohno shrugs. It makes sense to him at least.
Nino sighs and wraps the tie around Ohno’s head, covering his eyes. “Idiot,” he says, and then kisses him.