Guardian Angel fic part 10
Title: Angel Mine
Pairing: Ohmiya, of course. Was there ever any doubt? And a bit more unrequited Sho/Nino, though Sho rather seems resigned to the fact
Summary: Ohno's beginning to feel a certain job dissatisfaction...
Rating: Pg-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Ohno or Nino. Obviously, they own each other. I don't own anyone else in this fic either - I think Johnny owns most of them.
Word count: 1,296
AN: Mmm, dedicated to ajin , who kept poking at me to just sit down and write more of this, and who's not feeling very good right now. I hope this makes you feel better! <3
Ohno wakes up curled contentedly around Nino, arms around his waist, legs tangled beneath the blankets and face tucked neatly in the younger boy’s neck. Nino’s breathing softly, soft little puffs of air across his nose and chin, mouth slightly parted and face slack from sleep. Ohno stares down at him in silent wonder and strokes his thumb once across those little boy cheeks. Nino huffs a bit in his sleep and huddles closer to Ohno, nuzzling against his chest like a cat and lips turned up faintly in a smile.
It’s nice. And warm. But mostly nice, in a way that Ohno doesn’t quite understand, because he’s never felt this way before. He thinks seriously on it for a moment before deciding that he never wants to stop feeling this way, now that he knows what it’s like.
He softly touches Nino’s nose, his chin, the soft skin of his eyelids and the curve of his lips, just because he can.
There’s a loud clatter from the area that Ohno remembers is meant to be the kitchen. And while he is honestly loathe to pull himself away from Nino quite yet, he figures he’d better make sure it’s not a crazed murderer or door to door salesman. Or, you know, the boy’s mom. Because that would certainly be an interesting conversation.
Ohno sits up and blinks a few times to settle his vision. He wonders whether Sho-kun is actually worse than a mother.
Nino mutters something half-formed and disgruntled in his sleep, scoots forward and buries his head firmly in Ohno’s lap. Ohno’s hands settle on the top of the boy’s head reflexively, fingers threading easily through his hair. Sho is staring right at him, eyes wide and lips thin. He’s stirring something on the stove.
Aiba and Jun are whispering in the corner, Jun’s shoulders high and tense from the back and Aiba keeps darting looks back at them and giggling in delight. “Idiot.” Jun huffs, and smacks Aiba over the head with one perfectly manicured hand. “Why don’t you just wear a sign with great big neon letters and get it over with?”
Aiba pouts and shies away from him. “I can’t help it Jun-chan, he’s just so cute! Who would have ever thought our little Oh-chan would grow up?”
“You were here the whole night weren’t you? Nothing happened.”
“Er?” Aiba says, scratching the top of his head. “Well I may have stepped out for a bit to-“ He yelps and ducks another blow. “Cut it out Jun-chan.” He whines petulantly. “Those rings seriously hurt! And you know as well as I do, it’s not in what he does but in what he wants to do. Even if he doesn’t know yet that it’s what he wants!”
“Well you’re not allowed to tell him!” Jun makes another swipe for him and Aiba shrieks.
“You’re going to wake him up.” Ohno says sternly, petting Nino’s hair, and Aiba slaps one hand over his mouth while Jun just sort of sighs and gives Ohno this look like Ohno’s just said something without thinking again, but he quiets down too anyway.
Sho stops stirring whatever is in the pot, watching Nino shift in his sleep. “Sorry.” He says. “I didn’t realize I was being loud.”
Ohno frowns. “You weren’t.”
Sho stares at him for a moment in contemplative silence before turning back to the stove.
Aiba and Jun whisper fiercely at each other, Aiba making all sorts of large and grandiose gestures that keep clipping Jun on the side of the head and Ohno watches the fashionable angel get more and more angry with a sort of morbid fascination. It’s a bit, he reckons, like watching a trainwreck. Only instead of calculating how many more MIRACLES you’ve got in your monthly quota, trying to figure out which ones you can save, and helping the ones you can’t along to the afterlife, he’s mostly curious how much redder the youngest angel can get before he explodes.
Jun snarls something unintelligible at Aiba when one particularly explosive gesture knocks into his chin, clicking his teeth together in a way that sounded rather painful, and grabs him by the back of his shirt collar, dragging him forcefully through the front door. The pot in front of Sho bubbles over.
Sho hisses and recoils from the stove, cradling one hand protectively to his chest.
“Are you going to cry?” Ohno asks, trying to decide whether Nino’s stove really is evil, or just misunderstood. Nino seems fine with it, so maybe it’s just particular about who touches it. Or something. He can’t remember if stoves were on the list of things that appear non-sentient but really are. He knows socks are.
“NO I AM NOT GOING TO CRY.” Sho forces out, eyes scrunched up tight against the pain. He looks like he’s going to cry.
“You look like you’re going to cry.”
Sho shoots him a dark, watery look and carefully turns off the stove burner. “Nino’s right.” He says after a moment. “You really do speak without thinking.”
Ohno looks down at Nino and then looks back up at Sho. “Eh? But how can you speak before first having the thought? And you should suck on it.”
Sho almost drops the pot. “What.” He says incredulously.
“Your fingers. You should suck on them. That’s what Nino did when I burned my fingers, and then they didn’t really hurt anymore. See?” And he holds up his hand for Sho to see, smiling proudly. Sho gapes at him, so Ohno figures he’s reasonably impressed. He pushes on. “It really really hurt at first. I thought I was going to cry too. But Nino was so sweet and calm… and he looked real pretty after, his lips were all red and shiny, they looked like candy!”
“Now I really am going to cry.” Sho whimpers.
“Does it hurt that bad?”
Sho’s shoulders stiffen, and he whirls around to face Ohno suddenly, eyes wild. “Look.” He says sharply, pointing at Ohno with a soup ladle. “What do you want with Nino?”
“Want?” Ohno says easily. “I want Nino.”
“Why?” Sho says, voice pained, and Ohno understands at least enough about the world to know that it’s not his fingers that are making him feel that way, though not quite enough to figure out the real cause.
Ohno says. “Because I like him.”
Sho falls a step back as if he’s been smacked, eyes wide and mouth gaping open. Ohno wonders if it really is all that shocking for someone to actually like Nino; to him, it feels only natural. Sho looks like he’s arguing with himself over something. “Did he eat anything yesterday?” He says finally, sadly. “I mean besides the ice cream. Anything with any sort of nutritional value in it?”
“I don’t think so.” Ohno says honestly.
Sho frowns a tiny little frown, like he’d been expecting that answer. Considering how long he’s known Nino, he probably had. “I have to get to class.” He says heavily, glancing at his watch. “I’m not so good in the kitchen, but even I can manage miso soup and onigiri. When he wakes up, could you… get him to eat this? If it’s you I think he would.” His smile is bitter and somewhat gnarled, but Ohno knows he means it anyway when he says, “He likes you too, you know. Even if he’s too stupid to admit it to himself right now.”
Ohno nods eagerly and Sho’s smile get a bit lighter, softer. And then he’s gone, and Ohno’s left alone in the apartment with Nino, warm and needy and fitting perfectly around him in bed. Ohno smiles and kisses Nino’s brow. It feels just as nice as he thought it would.