[Oneshot] 5 & 1/2 Minute Hallway - Part 1/3
Title: 5 & 1/2 Minute Hallway (Part 1/3)
Genre: AU
Pairing: Jun/Sho
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18,515 (eeeep XD)
Summary: Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it. ~ Thomas Fuller
Notes: This story is dedicated to catacombkid, because it would not have happened without her. She'll argue the point, but she's totally wrong. >.> Seriously, thank you sooooo much! ♥♥♥♥ Loads of thank to nanyakanya and mitsuchan, too, for letting me bother them with snippets while I was writing it. XD ♥
Title taken from the Poe song of the same name.
This story is a one shot, but due to the length I'm breaking it up into three parts to post. I'm going to back date the second and third parts so I don't spam those of you who have this journal friended, though. There will be a link at the end of each part for the next part, too, to make reading through them easier. :3
Ohno had always thought that when the time finally came for him to move out on his own, that he’d either be doing it alone or, maybe, with a wife. The last thing he’d expected was to move out of his family’s home and in with a roommate, and one that he’d never met before or even known about beforehand. However, he'd learned a long time ago that life is often unexpected, and that if you learned to roll with the punches you ended up taking a lot fewer hits.
It was a Thursday in late October when he moved, sunny and unseasonably warm for that late in the year. He could feel the beginning of sweat around the collar of his jacket as he arrived at his new home, a box under one arm and a duffle bag slung over the opposite shoulder. The building was older but still in good condition, the carpeting in the hallway woven with an intricate pattern that had probably been stylish at one point, but had worn down slowly over the years. The hallways had that lived-in smell that most buildings its age had, of baked fish and bread and lemon scented disinfectant, old enough to have personality without the unpleasant, stale musk that older building tended to have. It was the type of building that families lived in when they were just starting out, or that parents retired to after their children had married and moved on, or that young, single career men and women stayed in while they were working their way up the corporate ladder.
Ohno was none of the above, really, but he’d gotten a deal on the rent that actually put it in his less than impressive price range, so he couldn’t really complain.
The air in the apartment smelled slightly stale, the smell a place got when it had been shut up and unlived in for too long. He wrinkled his nose as he shut the door behind him, his box of belongings balanced precariously on his hip as he fumbled his way inside. A line of shoes occupied the shelf just inside the door, lined up in a neat, evenly spaced rows, as if awaiting their owner’s return. They all looked expensive, like the shoes that he’d seen in the fashion magazines that teenage girls were always flipping through excitedly on trains. They were the type of shoes that belonged on the feet of a top executive or a host in Roppongi, not sitting on an ordinary shoe rack, collecting dust.
Ohno sat his box down in the entry and slipped off his own battered tennis shoes, feeling slightly embarrassed for them as he lined them up along the bottom shelf, as far away from the other shoes as he could manage.
“… who are you?”
Ohno straightened, startled, and turned to see an unfamiliar man staring at him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes full of suspicion. “Ohno Satoshi.”
“Ohno. What are you doing in my apartment?” The man furrowed his brows a little, and Ohno could practically see the need for politeness and the need to establish order warring inside him. The man didn’t say anything more, just stood there giving him an expectant look, and Ohno assumed it meant that politeness had won out.
“I live here?” Ohno blinked, wondering for a brief moment if he hadn’t managed to wander into the wrong apartment. He held up the key that he still had clutched in one hand and motioned to the box in front of him helpfully.
“My mother sent you, didn’t she?” The man frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he shot a cross look over Ohno’s shoulder. “I don’t need someone here to watch me. I’m fine.”
“Your mother…,” Ohno repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes widened in realization. “You’re Jun?”
“Yes,” Jun answered, pursing his lips as he turned his glare on Ohno. “And this is my apartment.”
“Ah, she told me,” Ohno answered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “But I didn’t think you were living here still… she made it sound like it was vacant.”
“It’s not.”
“Oh… sorry,” Ohno mumbled, shuffling from one foot to the other in the entryway as an awkward silence fell between them. He wished now that he’d paid more attention when his mother had talked about Matsumoto-san in the past; at least then he would have had some idea of what was going on. He remembered something about her son having an accident sometime back, but it was something his mother hadn’t talked much about, except to say how sorry she felt for the other woman, and it wasn’t exactly something that he could just ask Matsumoto-san herself about.
The amount of rent he was paying for a fully furnished apartment in a nice neighborhood made more sense now, though.
“I don’t need someone to look after me.”
“… I can go,” Ohno offered, bending over to retrieve his shoes. It would have been nice to live here and not have to commute the extra hour and a half to work every day, but he couldn’t really stay here when it was already someone else’s home. Especially when that someone very obviously hadn’t know about the new living arrangements and didn’t want him here.
“Wait,” Jun mumbled, and Ohno looked up to find the other watching him, his expression shifting from defensive to uncertain. “It’s not your fault. My mother just-I’m sure she meant well.”
Ohno nodded, not quite sure how to comment. Family problems weren’t really something he was used to dealing with; he’d never really seen any point in arguing with his own mother.
“I don’t need someone to look after me,” Jun repeated, his words sounding a bit weaker, less certain as he pursed his lips and gave Ohno a look that was meant to be disinterested, but came across as anything but. “But I hate breaking a promise, even if I’m not the one that made it. You seem quiet enough. Stay out of my room and don’t touch my things, and I guess you can stay.”
Ohno nodded and gave Jun a slight smile which the other, surprisingly, returned. And that was how life in his new apartment began.
--
“I’m going,” Ohno called out as he slipped into his shoes, his sketchbook and an apron that Jun had insisted he buy (apparently being a cook didn’t justify coming home covered in food) tucked inside a bag and slung over one shoulder.
“Come back soon,” he heard Jun’s voice answer as he slipped into the hallway and locked the door behind him. Two weeks living with his new roommate, and he found himself enjoying it a lot more than he’d thought he would. Jun could be a bit pushy sometimes, but he was clean and quiet, and they both liked having the company-even if Jun would never admit it.
Ohno was smiling to himself as he stopped beside the elevator, a man who looked to be around his age waiting beside him, clutching at the handle of a battered briefcase. He turned to nod at Ohno, his expression friendly as the elevator doors opened before them, and they climbed inside together.
“You’re new here?” The man asked as he hit the button for the lobby, and the elevator lurched into motion beneath them.
“Yeah. Ohno Satoshi,” Ohno answered, bowing his head slightly as he smiled at the other man, a smile which the other man returned. It was a nice change to see someone looking so open and friendly, when all the other neighbors that he’d run across so far had been either too busy or too standoffish to offer much more than a quick nod acknowledging his presence or a quickly muttered “hello”.
“Sakurai Sho.” He thrust his hand out between them and Ohno took it, shaking it with a soft laugh. “I live in 405.”
“Really? I live in 404.” Ohno smiled, the surprise clear in his voice. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before now.”
“404,” Sho repeated, his voice sounding slightly strained. “Ah… I have to go out of town on business a lot. I hadn’t even realized they were renting out 404.”
“They aren’t, really. I’m just subletting until I find a place of my own,” Ohno answered with a slight smile. “I moved in two weeks ago.”
“Oh… well, welcome to the building, Ohno-san,” Sho murmured as the elevator jerked to a stop. He gave another slight bow to Ohno before he turned and hurried off the elevator, but not fast enough for Ohno to miss the distinct look of discomfort that he wore.
Ohno let out a soft “hm” as he stepped out into the lobby, making a mental note to ask Jun about their neighbor later.
--
The first time Jun laid eyes on Sho was the day the other was moving into his apartment.
It was the middle of summer, and the air conditioning had gone out in half the building, making its inhabitants crankier than usual, a crankiness which even curiosity over a new neighbor couldn’t shake. The people in the building weren’t exactly that neighborly or pleasant in Jun’s experience, but like any building they had their resident gossip network, taking the form of a handful of older women who had no jobs, no children at home, and no hobbies to speak of. They reminded Jun of the woman who’d watched over him and his sister when they were children and their parents had decided to have the odd evening out-gray headed and full of politeness and smiles even as she pumped you for information that she’d readily spill to her friends over the phone the first chance she got.
The suffocating heat and high tempers filling the building were enough to kill the curiosity for once, though, and there were none of the usual busy bodies loitering around, trying to catch a glimpse of the newest tenant as the boxes started to slowly pile up outside of apartment 405.
Jun, for one, was not really curious about the new neighbor (or neighbors) at all, aside from hoping that he, she, or they didn’t track mud all over the hall carpeting like the last one had. He’d never even learned the last neighbor’s name, not even after two years of sharing an apartment wall and smelling each other’s cooking smells through said wall. He’d just been The Neighbor, someone that Jun had nodded at in the elevator or exchanged the occasional, awkward greeting with while getting his mail.
He hadn’t, therefore, expected to be curious, of all things, about The Neighbor’s replacement. Nevertheless, that is exactly what he found himself being, and all it took was one small, innocent smile.
It happened while Jun was heading out for a mid-morning meeting with his publisher, the pages of his current project tucked neatly inside his Italian leather briefcase as he tried to slide around the movers and stacks of boxes and furniture currently blocking the hallway. He’d already been feeling a bit sweaty and cross from lack of sleep when he’d stepped outside, and having to maneuver his way around boxes and tall, sweaty men without mussing his perfectly pressed slacks wasn’t helping the situation.
He could feel himself frowning by the time he made it to the end of the obstacle course that was currently his hallway, already looking forward to the air conditioning awaiting him in his car. He was so focused on said air conditioning that he very nearly missed his first glance at his new neighbor, but his eyes happened to slide over to the other man's face at the last second.
The new neighbor was a young man, probably around Jun’s age, whose hair had gone just a bit too long between cuts and whose face was in need of a good shave. He was wearing an old tshirt, the lettering on the front of it long faded, the material hugging his chest and stomach as it trailed down into his tattered jeans. He was standing outside the door to his new apartment with his keys clutched in one hand, brows furrowed in frustration as he very obviously searched for the one that would open the door in front of him.
It was the weariness in his expression and the fact that he looked exactly how Jun felt that made him hesitate for just a second, a second long enough for the man to look up and meet his eyes and smile, a smile that was as genuine as the soft “good morning” that accompanied it. It wasn’t forced or polite like Jun had grown used to, despite the heat and the almost claustrophobic press of boxes around them in the hallway and the other’s obvious frustration over not being able to find the right key.
Jun nodded and offered his own smile back as he passed, the first spark of curiosity about the other taking hold of him. It wasn’t that there was anything that striking about his new neighbor, really. He looked like your typical 20 something professional, handsome in that average sort of way, the type of person that might earn a second glance on the train but not a third; the type of person you saw everywhere but didn’t really stop to think about. If it hadn’t been for the smile, Jun probably wouldn’t have thought twice about him, but something in the smile was so friendly and genuine that he couldn’t help but steal a backwards glance at the other as he pressed the button for the elevator.
He had time later that day to reflect on just how stupid it all was, and how lonely he must be for something like a smile to get to him like that, but by that time it was already too late.
--
One of the first things that Ohno learned about Jun was that he knew food. It happened quite by accident, when Ohno was slicing vegetables to go with the quick dinner of chahan he was making for himself, and Jun commented on the way he was holding his knife.
“If you change the angle on your knife you’ll be able to make a cleaner cut using less force.”
“Like this?” Ohno shifted the knife between his fingers then looked to Jun for approval.
“No, more like this…,” Jun reached out to adjust the knife, but jerked away just before touching Ohno, pulling his hand back to himself. “…a little more to the left.”
Ohno changed the angle and Jun eyed it before nodding slowly, without reaching out to try to correct him again.
One of the second things Ohno learned about Jun was that he didn’t like to be touched. Anytime he came close to touching Ohno, or to Ohno touching him, he’d shy away, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable and slightly apprehensive all at once. It didn’t take Ohno long to learn how to move around the apartment without getting into Jun’s space and, even if the other didn’t comment on it, he started to look more relaxed whenever they were in the same room together.
For his part, Jun didn’t mind if Ohno stayed up to all hours of the morning painting as long as he didn’t get anything on the carpet, and didn’t leave paint brushes in the sink, or use the good towels to wipe up his spills. He even commented on Ohno’s work when he saw it, the kind of honest comments that held praise or criticism or both, depending-- the kind of comments that Ohno respected.
All-in-all they were well suited for each other.
Jun was currently standing next to the island in their kitchen, watching Ohno chop vegetables and offering the occasional suggestion as to how he might do a better job. Ohno just nodded and followed them, not one to take easy offense.
They had a system worked out when it came to meals. Since Jun was working from home he ate at odd hours, but he always kept Ohno company in the kitchen (and Ohno always made extra for him, even if it wasn’t really needed) while he cooked and gave advice on a dish when needed. Ohno never bothered to point out that he cooked everyday for a living-he was just an apprentice at a run of the mill family restaurant, afterall, and not the chef at somewhere high class. Jun, on the other hand, had been working at a rather well-known food magazine since he’d graduated high school and knew food like the back of his hand. He also seemed to be incredibly picky, if the way he talked was any indication. Ohno wasn’t, a fact which had seemed to annoy Jun at first, until he realized that Ohno was willing to follow any suggestions he gave him while cooking, a fact which appeased him enough to ignore the other’s seeming lack of taste buds.
Ohno liked the company when he cooked and, even if he wouldn’t admit it, he knew that Jun liked being able to talk to someone after an entire day spent cooped up in the apartment alone. Ohno was really Jun’s only company; he never had friends over as far as Ohno knew, or even his family. He never seemed to get phone calls, either, and the way he talked gave Ohno the impression that things weren't much different when Jun was home alone. It wasn’t something that Jun ever seemed to want to talk about openly, though, aside from the occasional off handed comment here or there, so Ohno made a point not to ask. They had enough to talk about, anyway, so it didn’t seem worth the hassle.
“I met one of the neighbors today,” Ohno commented, his voice soft as he slid a plate of pasta across the counter in front of Jun before grabbing one of his own and taking a seat.
“Hm, I’m surprised they talked to you,” Jun mumbled as he ran a finger along the edge of the plate. "They're not very friendly."
“It was a young guy-Sho. He said he lived next door,” Ohno mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. “Seems friendly.”
“Yeah.” Jun stiffened almost imperceptibly at the other’s words, his shoulder’s pulling back as he made a point not to look at Ohno.
Ohno chewed his pasta slowly, his face thoughtful. “He said he didn’t know they were renting the apartment.”
Jun snorted, the sound soft and humorless. “I guess he wouldn’t. I didn’t even know.”
“Hm, true,” Ohno mused, not missing the way Jun’s mouth curled downwards into the beginnings of a frown. “Do you think we should invite him over for dinner sometime? He seems like a nice guy.”
“No.” Jun’s head snapped upwards, his expression a strange mixture of hurt and apprehension as he met Ohno’s eyes. “We shouldn’t.”
Ohno blinked, his fork poised in midair as he studied Jun’s face. The expression he wore now was eerily similar to the one that Sho had worn that morning on the elevator, after he’d found out which apartment Ohno was living in. “Okay.”
“You can be friends with him if you want,” Jun mumbled as he slid out of the chair, shaking his head as he walked away. “But don't invite him here. I don't want a bunch of people traipsing through the apartment.”
--
Sho and Jun's first official meeting was over a cup of sugar.
It was a typical Monday evening. Sho was trying to pretend he was enjoying his slightly over-cooked TV dinner and lukewarm beer as he went over the financial section in the newspaper, when he was interrupted by an unexpected knock on his door.
He set the dinner aside, secretly grateful for the interruption and incredibly curious as to who it could be. He hadn’t buzzed anyone into the building and, really, no one besides his mother and younger brother and sister ever visited him at home. He still had some friends from University and High School, but most of them were married or working full time like himself and, well, once you grew up you really didn’t have the free time to spend dropping by unexpectedly at friends’ apartments.
“Hello?” Sho opened the door and peeked out into the hall, blinking owlishly at the unfamiliar young man standing in front of him. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of those fashion magazines Sho’s sister was always carrying around with her.
“Hi. Matsumoto Jun.” The stranger bowed slightly, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. He had a strong face, for lack of a better description, all cheekbones and full lips and big, dark eyes. It was pretty in an odd way, not entirely masculine, but not really feminine, either, and Sho found himself wanting a closer look, a chance to see all those planes and angles in a different light.
“Sakurai Sho,” Sho found himself answering with an automatic bow, the forced politeness of the business world already so deeply ingrained that it was more reflex than planned action. He flushed a little as he straightened, hoping he didn’t come off as too formal.
The man-Jun-nodded, his smile widening a little as he lifted an empty measuring cup and held it out with a slightly embarrassed look. “I live in 404-the next door down.” He motioned towards his door, the action almost nervous. It seemed somehow out of place to Sho, but he was too polite to comment. He barely knew this man. 5 seconds of acquaintance didn’t really give him the right to pass judgment on whether nervousness fit him or not. “I saw you moving in a few days ago and I wanted to introduce myself, but I haven’t had a chance until now.”
“Oh… thanks,” Sho mumbled, smiling a little at the sentiment. “You’re the first, actually-the first neighbor to introduce yourself. Everyone seems to keep to themselves here.”
“They do,” Jun laughed lowly, the sound soft, but sincere enough to make Sho’s smile widen. “That’s why I thought I’d welcome you to the building.”
“Thanks,” Sho repeated, pushing the door open wider and taking a step to the side. “Do you want to come in? I was just having dinner, but I have an extra beer in the fridge if you’d like one.”
“No,” Jun answered almost instantly, and Sho couldn’t help but wince. “I mean-no, that sounded awful. I’d love to have a beer sometime, but I’m in the middle of baking cookies at the moment.”
“Cookies?” Sho asked, more than a little intrigued. He wouldn’t have imagined Jun the type to bake cookies. He looked more like the type to buy expensive cakes at high-end department store bakeries or, judging by his size, to avoid sweets entirely.
“They’re you’re welcome gift,” Jun admitted with a laugh, the sound a bit louder and even more embarrassed this time. He cleared his throat and held up the empty measuring cup he had clutched in his right hand. “I seem to be out of sugar, though… you wouldn’t happen to have a cup I could borrow, would you?”
Sho blinked, looking down at the cup and then up at Jun’s face before he broke into soft laughter. He nodded and motioned the other inside. “I think I could spare a cup. That’s what neighbors do, right?”
“I guess so.” Jun echoed Sho’s laughter as he toed off his shoes and stepped up into the other’s apartment, letting the door swing closed behind him.
--
“Ohno… can you get the door?”
Ohno nodded and pulled himself off the couch, remembering halfway to the door that Jun couldn't see a nod from his room. “Sure.”
He pulled open the door to find an unfamiliar face staring back at him. “Matsumoto Jun?”
“He’s in his room,” Ohno answered, frowning just slightly at the stranger. The man was the same height as Ohno but his frame was smaller, his features almost delicate. Looks-wise, he was one of the most non-threatening people Ohno had ever met, but something about him made Ohno’s skin itch, made him shift from foot to foot like a three year old being forced to wait in line with his mother in the grocery store with the candy display just out of reach.
“Oh.” The stranger blinked, something that almost looked like confusion and surprise flashing in his eyes before he expression shifted into a more neutral smile. “I’m here to see him. Is it alright if I come in?”
Ohno nodded and stepped aside, shivering a little as the other brushed past him.
The man slipped off his shoes and stepped into their apartment, moving around it with an ease that most people didn’t have in the home of a complete stranger. By the time Ohno had shut the door behind them and followed him inside, the other man had was already sitting on their couch, slumped against the cushions and leaning casually against the arm rest like an old friend. “Can you go tell Jun I’m here?”
Ohno blinked, smiling a little in spite of himself. Whoever this was, he liked him. “Sure.”
“My name’s Nino,” the other man called after him, laughing a little. It was only then that Ohno realized he hadn’t known his name.
--
The first time that Sho came over for dinner it was a completely insignificant Thursday evening. He’d spent the day sitting at his desk or in meetings, doing his usual work. The only thing that made it different from a normal Thursday evening was the stop he’d made at the liquor store on the way home and the fact that he was now standing in front of Jun’s door and not his own.
Sho glanced down at the slightly faded gold numbering on the door in front of him as he lifted his hand to knock once, twice, the sound abrupt in the otherwise silent hallway. He swallowed and dropped his hand, glancing around the hall, half-afraid that someone was going to stick their head out of their door and tell him to stop being so loud. He’d already had the old woman who lived on the other side of him corner him in the elevator and give him a thinly veiled scolding over the volume of his TV and, consequently, his choice of TV programs, and he wasn’t looking forward to another one.
Sho jumped as he heard a door open, his face sheepish as he realized that it was the door in front of him.
“Oh, Sho. You’re early.” Jun smiled out at him, a dish towel slung over one shoulder and his hair pinned to the side rather inartistically. He opened the door wide and stepped to the side, motioning the other inside.
“I am?” Sho glanced down at his watch as he stepped past the other and into the entranceway, frowning as he reached down to untie his shoes. “I’m sorry… I left work early to pick up some wine and I didn’t think I’d get here this fast. The train is almost always late or I end up missing it… should I go home and come back later?”
“No, you’re fine,” Jun insisted, laughing softly as he shut the door behind him, his face amused as he watched Sho struggling to unlace his shoes one handed, the other currently busy clinging to a bottle of wine. “Do you want me to take that?”
“Oh… yes. Thanks.” Sho handed him the wine, flashing him a nervous grin that showed too many teeth. “I got wine to go with dinner. I wasn’t sure what to get, but the woman at the store said that that would go well with pasta. You like wine, right? I should have asked if you drank….”
“I like wine,” Jun butted in, his lips moving silently as he turned the bottle over in his hand and read the label. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Sho grinned, his posture relaxing a little at the other’s reassurance. Jun was smiling at him, his lips curling upward just enough to show off the mole below his bottom lip, a mole that Sho hadn’t noticed the first time they’d met or any of the times they’d talked while waiting for the elevator or crossing paths in the hallway. He flushed slightly as he realized he was staring and looked away quickly, busying himself with straightening his shoes against the wall, his hands wandering idly over to do the same for several pairs of Jun’s.
Jun laughed silently to himself and reached down, touching Sho’s arm gently as he inclined his head toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll put the wine on to chill, and you can help me chop mushrooms for the sauce. You can use a knife, right?”
“Well enough to chop mushrooms.” Sho nodded, a small, unconscious smile on his lips as Jun lead him toward the kitchen, his hand still resting lightly against Sho’s upper arm.
--
There was currently a staring contest going on in Jun’s living room involving himself and the stranger-- Nino, according to Ohno-- sitting on their couch.
Jun crossed his arms over his chest, unwilling to be the first to relent as he stared at the other-much smaller, he was quick to note-man, his lips drawn into a thin line. He wasn’t sure why his mother had suddenly decided after so many months that he needed someone to talk to about what had happened. He would have thought the fact that she’d found him a roommate without so much as consulting him would have been enough. If anything, Ohno was the better spy-he was living here.
Then again, Ohno didn’t exactly strike him as the type to make a very good spy. He was observant enough, but it was hard to imagine him actually having the energy to report anything he found out. Maybe there was a reason this strange little man was sitting on the couch across from him, smiling an infuriating, knowing smile at him, afterall.
The man shifted and broke Jun’s gaze, the corners of his lips still curled into a smirk as he reached into his pocket to produce a pack of playing cards, stealing glances at Jun beneath his bangs as he started to shuffle them.
Jun huffed, finally fed up enough to break the silence. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a professional, but I’m not exactly a novice, either,” the man answered, his smirk widening as he leaned forward and reached behind Jun’s ear, pulling his hand back to reveal the two of hearts clutched between his fingers. “Besides, what I lack in technique I make up for with my winning personality.”
“I didn’t mean your card tricks,” Jun mumbled, frowning as he looked away. “If my mother sent you here to spy on me you’re not very good at it.”
“She didn’t,” the man answered with a slight shrug, slipping the card back into the deck before he started shuffling again. “You just assumed that.”
“If my mother didn’t send you, then what the hell are you doing here?” Jun asked, in no mood to put up with word games. It had been hard enough adjusting to having Ohno in his apartment after spending so many months alone, and he liked Ohno. Having some stranger come barging in, insisting that he was here on business-the business of prying into Jun’s business and taking up time that Jun could spend actually working, no doubt--was nearly unbearable.
“I told you already, I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need help,” Jun mumbled, voice and posture defensive. “So, you’re what, supposed to by my therapist? I don’t need one.”
The soft sound of the cards sliding against each other was enough to set Jun’s nerves on edge. “I prefer to think of myself as an assistant more than a therapist. I help you help yourself.”
Jun rolled his eyes and shifted, glaring openly at the other, the way he was slumped against the back of their couch, seemingly oblivious to Jun’s displeasure, only serving to irritate him more. “An assistant? I don’t need one of those, either.”
“You haven’t left your apartment since last spring.” The man’s response was enough to make Jun flinch, his soft, matter-of-fact tone and the fact that he already knew more about Jun than Jun knew about him just off-putting enough to override Jun’s anger over the whole situation. He kept shuffling the cards, the soft sound of them moving from hand to hand the only sound to fill the silence between them. Eventually, he chose to break it, lifting his eyes to met Jun’s. “I think you need something. You’re just afraid to ask for help.”
“I’m not afraid,” Jun answered automatically, breaking the other’s gaze to stare down at his lap, thoughts of friends and family members flitting across his mind before he effectively quashed them. “And I don’t need help.”
Jun heard the shrug more than saw it, his eyes still fixed on his lap, refusing to look up at the stranger across from him. He was too afraid of actually letting his doubt show on his face if he did. “Don’t you think it’s about time to put an end to this?”
“I’m fine. Besides, it’s not like having you around is going to make any difference,” Jun mumbled, forcing a heat into his voice that was a little less than convincing.
Nino shrugged, unaffected by the hostility in Jun’s voice. “Then I guess it won’t make a difference if I stick around. My boss is a real stickler about me putting in a certain number of hours with each of my cases.”
“Fine, but I’m not talking to you.”
“Fine with me,” the man answered, sounding entirely too proud of himself.
Jun decided that he didn’t like this man, even more than he disliked the knot of worry that he could feel forming in the pit of his stomach at this whole conversation.
--
The first time Sho and Jun went out together was a complete disaster. Sho had taken his time and planned out the perfect evening, going so far as to coordinate his outfit down to his socks and make a rough list of possible conversation topics, which he read over as he rode the train home from work that evening.
Not that he told Jun any of this, of course, since this was a friendly get together and most certainly not a date, and those were not the types of thing that you did for a simple friendly get together.
They didn’t much matter, though, as all of Sho’s carefully laid plans fell through once they arrived at the bar he’d chosen and found it full of loud, drunken salarymen.
“Sorry about that,” Sho mumbled once they’d fled said bar after an embarrassingly short period of time. His face was sheepish as he kept pace with Jun, their footsteps echoing quietly against the pavement as they did their best to avoid the crowds of drunken salarymen stumbling out of bars after a night spent celebrating another day of work over and done with.
“About what?” Jun looked up, his eyes curious and posture relaxed as he ignored a group of revelers stumbling past them and let himself enjoy the balmy springtime air.
“The bar,” Sho answered, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s usually a lot quieter in there. I didn’t realize there was a game tonight or we could have gone somewhere else.”
Jun laughed, the sound light and happy as he gave Sho a disbelieving look. “It was the 7th game of the championship series, Sho.”
Sho blinked, his face confused. “Wait… seriously?”
“You don’t follow a lot of baseball, do you?” Jun chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“No,” Sho admitted, although he was sure it was probably pretty obvious at this point. “I’m more of a soccer fan.”
“Are you sure you’re Japanese?” Jun teased him.
“Yes,” Sho insisted, laughing softly through his embarrassment. “There’s nothing wrong with liking soccer. It’s the most popular sport in the world!”
Jun snorted and shook his head as he shot Sho a look that said otherwise. “I bet you like Beckham, too.”
“I’m a real soccer fan,” Sho answered, his voice slightly offended. “I’d rather follow Ronaldo.”
“Who?” Jun asked, his voice curious as he moved a little closer to the other to avoid a group of young men stumbling out of a bar and right into his path, just drunk enough to be oblivious to everything and everyone around them.
“Cristiano Ronaldo,” Sho repeated, his mouth hanging open a little as Jun gave him a blank look. “He plays for Machester United. He scored the second highest number of goals last year in the world cup qualifications.”
“… you’re definitely not Japanese,” Jun mumbled, shaking his head and laughing softly at the look that Sho was giving him. He sighed dramatically as he took advantage of their closeness and reached out to take Sho’s hand loosely in his own. “I can’t believe we’re friends.”
“I--,” Sho opened his mouth to start to protest and stopped, his cheeks flushing an embarrassing shade of pink as Jun wove their fingers together as they walked. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“No. Why?”
“I’m making you watch soccer with me,” Sho mumbled, grinning to himself as he gave Jun’s hand a light squeeze.
--
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jun groaned as he walked into the living room to find Nino already seated on his couch, wearing a knowing smile, his trademark deck of cards clutched in one hand.
“Good morning, Jun,” Nino called back, his voice entirely too chipper for so early in the morning. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”
Jun rolled his eyes and flopped into an armchair, purposefully seating himself as far from Nino as possible. “Is that supposed to be inspiring?”
“Like it?” Nino met Jun’s eyes across the coffee table with another infuriating grin. “I read it on a poster once.”
"Brilliant," Jun answered dryly. "I guess quoting posters at me is supposed to fix me? Why didn't I think of that?"
"I told you-I can't fix you. I'm just here to assist. The hard work you have to do yourself," Nino answered, leaning forward to set the deck of cards on the table between them.
"Then you must like wasting your time, because I don't need your help," Jun answered, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the other a defiant look. It had been a week since Nino had wandered in here-- an entire week of Nino sitting on his couch every morning when Jun got up, and an entire week of Jun pointedly refusing to talk about anything. Jun didn't know what kind of boss Nino had, but whoever it was was obviously an idiot. There was no way having an employee spend an entire week sitting around watching variety TV while being blatantly ignored was productive; especially when it clearly wasn't getting him anywhere.
Nino just smiled at Jun and tapped the top of the deck of cards, one eyebrow carefully arched. "So you say. I thought we could change things up today."
"Getting tired already?"
"No, just bored. I thought we might make things more interesting," Nino drawled, an unspoken challenge in his eyes as they met Jun's. "We each draw a card from the deck. If you lose, you have to talk to me about the subject of my choice."
"And if you lose?" Jun asked, voice haughty to hide his uneasiness. The chances that he or Nino would win had to be about dead even, but the thought of losing... well, from what he'd seen of Nino, he doubted the other had a sympathetic bone in his body.
"I won't," Nino answered with a smirk. "But if I do, I'll leave."
"Leave?" Jun repeated, arching one eyebrow. "For the day?"
"For good."
Jun swallowed, his gaze flickering down to the deck of cards and back up to meet Nino's eyes. "For good? Won't your boss have something to say about that?"
Nino shrugged, looking entirely too smug. It was enough to set Jun's teeth on edge and have his long dormant competitive streak suddenly trying to claw its way out.
"I told you, I won't lose."
"We'll see," Jun murmured, his voice low, a tone that anyone who knew him well would know to fear. For his part, Nino looked unfazed. "The card values are the same as in poker?"
Nino nodded, his smirk widening at Jun's submission. "Ace high, Joker is trump, suits doesn't matter."
"And if we tie?"
"We keep drawing until someone wins."
Jun nodded and glanced back at the cards. "Who goes first?"
"Be my guest," Nino murmured, waving his hand over the cards with flourish. It reminded Jun vaguely of the magician his mother had hired for his 9th birthday party. Jun put on his best poker face as he leaned forward and cut the deck, flipping it over to reveal the Ace of Hearts. He met Nino's eyes, his mouth curving into a smirk of its own.
"An ace. Not bad." Nino whistled, the sound somehow mocking as he leaned forward and cut the deck on his own. Jun was already celebrating inside of his own head when Nino turned his cards over to reveal a Joker sitting on top, smiling mockingly up at him. "... but not good enough. It looks like I win."
"What? You cheated," Jun sputtered, the reaction automatic as he continued to stare down at the card. There was no way that Nino's luck was that good. No one's luck was that good. "You did some sort of card trick...."
"No need to be a sore loser," Nino answered, his tone hurt, even as he leaned forward to gather up the cards with that same annoying, knowing smile on his face. "You shouldn't accuse someone of cheating unless you can prove it."
"Just because I can't prove it doesn't mean it's not true," Jun muttered, scowling at the smaller man.
Nino slipped the deck of cards back into his pocket and gave Jun a look. "But you can't, so I win. Now, let's see-- oh, yes, I get to pick what we talk about, don't I? Well, how about we talk about Sho."
Jun paled at the name, his face falling as he struggled to find some way out of this. Out of all the topics Nino could have picked, that was the one that he least wanted to talk about, and damned if Nino didn't know it. "Pick something else."
Nino shook his head. "Nope. I won, so I get to pick the topic, and I want you to talk about Sho."
Jun swallowed, sitting quietly for a long moment as he weighed his options. He'd learned over the past week that Nino was nothing if not persistent, and even if he found some way to get out of talking about this now, the other would bring it up again and again and again. Maybe if he got it over with now Nino would be satisfied and never ask about it again. Maybe he'd even call it quits and leave Jun alone forever.
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
Nino leaned against the arm of the couch and gave Jun a triumphant look. "Let's start with the beginning."
Continue to Part 2
Genre: AU
Pairing: Jun/Sho
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18,515 (eeeep XD)
Summary: Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it. ~ Thomas Fuller
Notes: This story is dedicated to catacombkid, because it would not have happened without her. She'll argue the point, but she's totally wrong. >.> Seriously, thank you sooooo much! ♥♥♥♥ Loads of thank to nanyakanya and mitsuchan, too, for letting me bother them with snippets while I was writing it. XD ♥
Title taken from the Poe song of the same name.
This story is a one shot, but due to the length I'm breaking it up into three parts to post. I'm going to back date the second and third parts so I don't spam those of you who have this journal friended, though. There will be a link at the end of each part for the next part, too, to make reading through them easier. :3
Ohno had always thought that when the time finally came for him to move out on his own, that he’d either be doing it alone or, maybe, with a wife. The last thing he’d expected was to move out of his family’s home and in with a roommate, and one that he’d never met before or even known about beforehand. However, he'd learned a long time ago that life is often unexpected, and that if you learned to roll with the punches you ended up taking a lot fewer hits.
It was a Thursday in late October when he moved, sunny and unseasonably warm for that late in the year. He could feel the beginning of sweat around the collar of his jacket as he arrived at his new home, a box under one arm and a duffle bag slung over the opposite shoulder. The building was older but still in good condition, the carpeting in the hallway woven with an intricate pattern that had probably been stylish at one point, but had worn down slowly over the years. The hallways had that lived-in smell that most buildings its age had, of baked fish and bread and lemon scented disinfectant, old enough to have personality without the unpleasant, stale musk that older building tended to have. It was the type of building that families lived in when they were just starting out, or that parents retired to after their children had married and moved on, or that young, single career men and women stayed in while they were working their way up the corporate ladder.
Ohno was none of the above, really, but he’d gotten a deal on the rent that actually put it in his less than impressive price range, so he couldn’t really complain.
The air in the apartment smelled slightly stale, the smell a place got when it had been shut up and unlived in for too long. He wrinkled his nose as he shut the door behind him, his box of belongings balanced precariously on his hip as he fumbled his way inside. A line of shoes occupied the shelf just inside the door, lined up in a neat, evenly spaced rows, as if awaiting their owner’s return. They all looked expensive, like the shoes that he’d seen in the fashion magazines that teenage girls were always flipping through excitedly on trains. They were the type of shoes that belonged on the feet of a top executive or a host in Roppongi, not sitting on an ordinary shoe rack, collecting dust.
Ohno sat his box down in the entry and slipped off his own battered tennis shoes, feeling slightly embarrassed for them as he lined them up along the bottom shelf, as far away from the other shoes as he could manage.
“… who are you?”
Ohno straightened, startled, and turned to see an unfamiliar man staring at him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes full of suspicion. “Ohno Satoshi.”
“Ohno. What are you doing in my apartment?” The man furrowed his brows a little, and Ohno could practically see the need for politeness and the need to establish order warring inside him. The man didn’t say anything more, just stood there giving him an expectant look, and Ohno assumed it meant that politeness had won out.
“I live here?” Ohno blinked, wondering for a brief moment if he hadn’t managed to wander into the wrong apartment. He held up the key that he still had clutched in one hand and motioned to the box in front of him helpfully.
“My mother sent you, didn’t she?” The man frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he shot a cross look over Ohno’s shoulder. “I don’t need someone here to watch me. I’m fine.”
“Your mother…,” Ohno repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes widened in realization. “You’re Jun?”
“Yes,” Jun answered, pursing his lips as he turned his glare on Ohno. “And this is my apartment.”
“Ah, she told me,” Ohno answered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “But I didn’t think you were living here still… she made it sound like it was vacant.”
“It’s not.”
“Oh… sorry,” Ohno mumbled, shuffling from one foot to the other in the entryway as an awkward silence fell between them. He wished now that he’d paid more attention when his mother had talked about Matsumoto-san in the past; at least then he would have had some idea of what was going on. He remembered something about her son having an accident sometime back, but it was something his mother hadn’t talked much about, except to say how sorry she felt for the other woman, and it wasn’t exactly something that he could just ask Matsumoto-san herself about.
The amount of rent he was paying for a fully furnished apartment in a nice neighborhood made more sense now, though.
“I don’t need someone to look after me.”
“… I can go,” Ohno offered, bending over to retrieve his shoes. It would have been nice to live here and not have to commute the extra hour and a half to work every day, but he couldn’t really stay here when it was already someone else’s home. Especially when that someone very obviously hadn’t know about the new living arrangements and didn’t want him here.
“Wait,” Jun mumbled, and Ohno looked up to find the other watching him, his expression shifting from defensive to uncertain. “It’s not your fault. My mother just-I’m sure she meant well.”
Ohno nodded, not quite sure how to comment. Family problems weren’t really something he was used to dealing with; he’d never really seen any point in arguing with his own mother.
“I don’t need someone to look after me,” Jun repeated, his words sounding a bit weaker, less certain as he pursed his lips and gave Ohno a look that was meant to be disinterested, but came across as anything but. “But I hate breaking a promise, even if I’m not the one that made it. You seem quiet enough. Stay out of my room and don’t touch my things, and I guess you can stay.”
Ohno nodded and gave Jun a slight smile which the other, surprisingly, returned. And that was how life in his new apartment began.
--
“I’m going,” Ohno called out as he slipped into his shoes, his sketchbook and an apron that Jun had insisted he buy (apparently being a cook didn’t justify coming home covered in food) tucked inside a bag and slung over one shoulder.
“Come back soon,” he heard Jun’s voice answer as he slipped into the hallway and locked the door behind him. Two weeks living with his new roommate, and he found himself enjoying it a lot more than he’d thought he would. Jun could be a bit pushy sometimes, but he was clean and quiet, and they both liked having the company-even if Jun would never admit it.
Ohno was smiling to himself as he stopped beside the elevator, a man who looked to be around his age waiting beside him, clutching at the handle of a battered briefcase. He turned to nod at Ohno, his expression friendly as the elevator doors opened before them, and they climbed inside together.
“You’re new here?” The man asked as he hit the button for the lobby, and the elevator lurched into motion beneath them.
“Yeah. Ohno Satoshi,” Ohno answered, bowing his head slightly as he smiled at the other man, a smile which the other man returned. It was a nice change to see someone looking so open and friendly, when all the other neighbors that he’d run across so far had been either too busy or too standoffish to offer much more than a quick nod acknowledging his presence or a quickly muttered “hello”.
“Sakurai Sho.” He thrust his hand out between them and Ohno took it, shaking it with a soft laugh. “I live in 405.”
“Really? I live in 404.” Ohno smiled, the surprise clear in his voice. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before now.”
“404,” Sho repeated, his voice sounding slightly strained. “Ah… I have to go out of town on business a lot. I hadn’t even realized they were renting out 404.”
“They aren’t, really. I’m just subletting until I find a place of my own,” Ohno answered with a slight smile. “I moved in two weeks ago.”
“Oh… well, welcome to the building, Ohno-san,” Sho murmured as the elevator jerked to a stop. He gave another slight bow to Ohno before he turned and hurried off the elevator, but not fast enough for Ohno to miss the distinct look of discomfort that he wore.
Ohno let out a soft “hm” as he stepped out into the lobby, making a mental note to ask Jun about their neighbor later.
--
The first time Jun laid eyes on Sho was the day the other was moving into his apartment.
It was the middle of summer, and the air conditioning had gone out in half the building, making its inhabitants crankier than usual, a crankiness which even curiosity over a new neighbor couldn’t shake. The people in the building weren’t exactly that neighborly or pleasant in Jun’s experience, but like any building they had their resident gossip network, taking the form of a handful of older women who had no jobs, no children at home, and no hobbies to speak of. They reminded Jun of the woman who’d watched over him and his sister when they were children and their parents had decided to have the odd evening out-gray headed and full of politeness and smiles even as she pumped you for information that she’d readily spill to her friends over the phone the first chance she got.
The suffocating heat and high tempers filling the building were enough to kill the curiosity for once, though, and there were none of the usual busy bodies loitering around, trying to catch a glimpse of the newest tenant as the boxes started to slowly pile up outside of apartment 405.
Jun, for one, was not really curious about the new neighbor (or neighbors) at all, aside from hoping that he, she, or they didn’t track mud all over the hall carpeting like the last one had. He’d never even learned the last neighbor’s name, not even after two years of sharing an apartment wall and smelling each other’s cooking smells through said wall. He’d just been The Neighbor, someone that Jun had nodded at in the elevator or exchanged the occasional, awkward greeting with while getting his mail.
He hadn’t, therefore, expected to be curious, of all things, about The Neighbor’s replacement. Nevertheless, that is exactly what he found himself being, and all it took was one small, innocent smile.
It happened while Jun was heading out for a mid-morning meeting with his publisher, the pages of his current project tucked neatly inside his Italian leather briefcase as he tried to slide around the movers and stacks of boxes and furniture currently blocking the hallway. He’d already been feeling a bit sweaty and cross from lack of sleep when he’d stepped outside, and having to maneuver his way around boxes and tall, sweaty men without mussing his perfectly pressed slacks wasn’t helping the situation.
He could feel himself frowning by the time he made it to the end of the obstacle course that was currently his hallway, already looking forward to the air conditioning awaiting him in his car. He was so focused on said air conditioning that he very nearly missed his first glance at his new neighbor, but his eyes happened to slide over to the other man's face at the last second.
The new neighbor was a young man, probably around Jun’s age, whose hair had gone just a bit too long between cuts and whose face was in need of a good shave. He was wearing an old tshirt, the lettering on the front of it long faded, the material hugging his chest and stomach as it trailed down into his tattered jeans. He was standing outside the door to his new apartment with his keys clutched in one hand, brows furrowed in frustration as he very obviously searched for the one that would open the door in front of him.
It was the weariness in his expression and the fact that he looked exactly how Jun felt that made him hesitate for just a second, a second long enough for the man to look up and meet his eyes and smile, a smile that was as genuine as the soft “good morning” that accompanied it. It wasn’t forced or polite like Jun had grown used to, despite the heat and the almost claustrophobic press of boxes around them in the hallway and the other’s obvious frustration over not being able to find the right key.
Jun nodded and offered his own smile back as he passed, the first spark of curiosity about the other taking hold of him. It wasn’t that there was anything that striking about his new neighbor, really. He looked like your typical 20 something professional, handsome in that average sort of way, the type of person that might earn a second glance on the train but not a third; the type of person you saw everywhere but didn’t really stop to think about. If it hadn’t been for the smile, Jun probably wouldn’t have thought twice about him, but something in the smile was so friendly and genuine that he couldn’t help but steal a backwards glance at the other as he pressed the button for the elevator.
He had time later that day to reflect on just how stupid it all was, and how lonely he must be for something like a smile to get to him like that, but by that time it was already too late.
--
One of the first things that Ohno learned about Jun was that he knew food. It happened quite by accident, when Ohno was slicing vegetables to go with the quick dinner of chahan he was making for himself, and Jun commented on the way he was holding his knife.
“If you change the angle on your knife you’ll be able to make a cleaner cut using less force.”
“Like this?” Ohno shifted the knife between his fingers then looked to Jun for approval.
“No, more like this…,” Jun reached out to adjust the knife, but jerked away just before touching Ohno, pulling his hand back to himself. “…a little more to the left.”
Ohno changed the angle and Jun eyed it before nodding slowly, without reaching out to try to correct him again.
One of the second things Ohno learned about Jun was that he didn’t like to be touched. Anytime he came close to touching Ohno, or to Ohno touching him, he’d shy away, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable and slightly apprehensive all at once. It didn’t take Ohno long to learn how to move around the apartment without getting into Jun’s space and, even if the other didn’t comment on it, he started to look more relaxed whenever they were in the same room together.
For his part, Jun didn’t mind if Ohno stayed up to all hours of the morning painting as long as he didn’t get anything on the carpet, and didn’t leave paint brushes in the sink, or use the good towels to wipe up his spills. He even commented on Ohno’s work when he saw it, the kind of honest comments that held praise or criticism or both, depending-- the kind of comments that Ohno respected.
All-in-all they were well suited for each other.
Jun was currently standing next to the island in their kitchen, watching Ohno chop vegetables and offering the occasional suggestion as to how he might do a better job. Ohno just nodded and followed them, not one to take easy offense.
They had a system worked out when it came to meals. Since Jun was working from home he ate at odd hours, but he always kept Ohno company in the kitchen (and Ohno always made extra for him, even if it wasn’t really needed) while he cooked and gave advice on a dish when needed. Ohno never bothered to point out that he cooked everyday for a living-he was just an apprentice at a run of the mill family restaurant, afterall, and not the chef at somewhere high class. Jun, on the other hand, had been working at a rather well-known food magazine since he’d graduated high school and knew food like the back of his hand. He also seemed to be incredibly picky, if the way he talked was any indication. Ohno wasn’t, a fact which had seemed to annoy Jun at first, until he realized that Ohno was willing to follow any suggestions he gave him while cooking, a fact which appeased him enough to ignore the other’s seeming lack of taste buds.
Ohno liked the company when he cooked and, even if he wouldn’t admit it, he knew that Jun liked being able to talk to someone after an entire day spent cooped up in the apartment alone. Ohno was really Jun’s only company; he never had friends over as far as Ohno knew, or even his family. He never seemed to get phone calls, either, and the way he talked gave Ohno the impression that things weren't much different when Jun was home alone. It wasn’t something that Jun ever seemed to want to talk about openly, though, aside from the occasional off handed comment here or there, so Ohno made a point not to ask. They had enough to talk about, anyway, so it didn’t seem worth the hassle.
“I met one of the neighbors today,” Ohno commented, his voice soft as he slid a plate of pasta across the counter in front of Jun before grabbing one of his own and taking a seat.
“Hm, I’m surprised they talked to you,” Jun mumbled as he ran a finger along the edge of the plate. "They're not very friendly."
“It was a young guy-Sho. He said he lived next door,” Ohno mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. “Seems friendly.”
“Yeah.” Jun stiffened almost imperceptibly at the other’s words, his shoulder’s pulling back as he made a point not to look at Ohno.
Ohno chewed his pasta slowly, his face thoughtful. “He said he didn’t know they were renting the apartment.”
Jun snorted, the sound soft and humorless. “I guess he wouldn’t. I didn’t even know.”
“Hm, true,” Ohno mused, not missing the way Jun’s mouth curled downwards into the beginnings of a frown. “Do you think we should invite him over for dinner sometime? He seems like a nice guy.”
“No.” Jun’s head snapped upwards, his expression a strange mixture of hurt and apprehension as he met Ohno’s eyes. “We shouldn’t.”
Ohno blinked, his fork poised in midair as he studied Jun’s face. The expression he wore now was eerily similar to the one that Sho had worn that morning on the elevator, after he’d found out which apartment Ohno was living in. “Okay.”
“You can be friends with him if you want,” Jun mumbled as he slid out of the chair, shaking his head as he walked away. “But don't invite him here. I don't want a bunch of people traipsing through the apartment.”
--
Sho and Jun's first official meeting was over a cup of sugar.
It was a typical Monday evening. Sho was trying to pretend he was enjoying his slightly over-cooked TV dinner and lukewarm beer as he went over the financial section in the newspaper, when he was interrupted by an unexpected knock on his door.
He set the dinner aside, secretly grateful for the interruption and incredibly curious as to who it could be. He hadn’t buzzed anyone into the building and, really, no one besides his mother and younger brother and sister ever visited him at home. He still had some friends from University and High School, but most of them were married or working full time like himself and, well, once you grew up you really didn’t have the free time to spend dropping by unexpectedly at friends’ apartments.
“Hello?” Sho opened the door and peeked out into the hall, blinking owlishly at the unfamiliar young man standing in front of him. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of those fashion magazines Sho’s sister was always carrying around with her.
“Hi. Matsumoto Jun.” The stranger bowed slightly, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. He had a strong face, for lack of a better description, all cheekbones and full lips and big, dark eyes. It was pretty in an odd way, not entirely masculine, but not really feminine, either, and Sho found himself wanting a closer look, a chance to see all those planes and angles in a different light.
“Sakurai Sho,” Sho found himself answering with an automatic bow, the forced politeness of the business world already so deeply ingrained that it was more reflex than planned action. He flushed a little as he straightened, hoping he didn’t come off as too formal.
The man-Jun-nodded, his smile widening a little as he lifted an empty measuring cup and held it out with a slightly embarrassed look. “I live in 404-the next door down.” He motioned towards his door, the action almost nervous. It seemed somehow out of place to Sho, but he was too polite to comment. He barely knew this man. 5 seconds of acquaintance didn’t really give him the right to pass judgment on whether nervousness fit him or not. “I saw you moving in a few days ago and I wanted to introduce myself, but I haven’t had a chance until now.”
“Oh… thanks,” Sho mumbled, smiling a little at the sentiment. “You’re the first, actually-the first neighbor to introduce yourself. Everyone seems to keep to themselves here.”
“They do,” Jun laughed lowly, the sound soft, but sincere enough to make Sho’s smile widen. “That’s why I thought I’d welcome you to the building.”
“Thanks,” Sho repeated, pushing the door open wider and taking a step to the side. “Do you want to come in? I was just having dinner, but I have an extra beer in the fridge if you’d like one.”
“No,” Jun answered almost instantly, and Sho couldn’t help but wince. “I mean-no, that sounded awful. I’d love to have a beer sometime, but I’m in the middle of baking cookies at the moment.”
“Cookies?” Sho asked, more than a little intrigued. He wouldn’t have imagined Jun the type to bake cookies. He looked more like the type to buy expensive cakes at high-end department store bakeries or, judging by his size, to avoid sweets entirely.
“They’re you’re welcome gift,” Jun admitted with a laugh, the sound a bit louder and even more embarrassed this time. He cleared his throat and held up the empty measuring cup he had clutched in his right hand. “I seem to be out of sugar, though… you wouldn’t happen to have a cup I could borrow, would you?”
Sho blinked, looking down at the cup and then up at Jun’s face before he broke into soft laughter. He nodded and motioned the other inside. “I think I could spare a cup. That’s what neighbors do, right?”
“I guess so.” Jun echoed Sho’s laughter as he toed off his shoes and stepped up into the other’s apartment, letting the door swing closed behind him.
--
“Ohno… can you get the door?”
Ohno nodded and pulled himself off the couch, remembering halfway to the door that Jun couldn't see a nod from his room. “Sure.”
He pulled open the door to find an unfamiliar face staring back at him. “Matsumoto Jun?”
“He’s in his room,” Ohno answered, frowning just slightly at the stranger. The man was the same height as Ohno but his frame was smaller, his features almost delicate. Looks-wise, he was one of the most non-threatening people Ohno had ever met, but something about him made Ohno’s skin itch, made him shift from foot to foot like a three year old being forced to wait in line with his mother in the grocery store with the candy display just out of reach.
“Oh.” The stranger blinked, something that almost looked like confusion and surprise flashing in his eyes before he expression shifted into a more neutral smile. “I’m here to see him. Is it alright if I come in?”
Ohno nodded and stepped aside, shivering a little as the other brushed past him.
The man slipped off his shoes and stepped into their apartment, moving around it with an ease that most people didn’t have in the home of a complete stranger. By the time Ohno had shut the door behind them and followed him inside, the other man had was already sitting on their couch, slumped against the cushions and leaning casually against the arm rest like an old friend. “Can you go tell Jun I’m here?”
Ohno blinked, smiling a little in spite of himself. Whoever this was, he liked him. “Sure.”
“My name’s Nino,” the other man called after him, laughing a little. It was only then that Ohno realized he hadn’t known his name.
--
The first time that Sho came over for dinner it was a completely insignificant Thursday evening. He’d spent the day sitting at his desk or in meetings, doing his usual work. The only thing that made it different from a normal Thursday evening was the stop he’d made at the liquor store on the way home and the fact that he was now standing in front of Jun’s door and not his own.
Sho glanced down at the slightly faded gold numbering on the door in front of him as he lifted his hand to knock once, twice, the sound abrupt in the otherwise silent hallway. He swallowed and dropped his hand, glancing around the hall, half-afraid that someone was going to stick their head out of their door and tell him to stop being so loud. He’d already had the old woman who lived on the other side of him corner him in the elevator and give him a thinly veiled scolding over the volume of his TV and, consequently, his choice of TV programs, and he wasn’t looking forward to another one.
Sho jumped as he heard a door open, his face sheepish as he realized that it was the door in front of him.
“Oh, Sho. You’re early.” Jun smiled out at him, a dish towel slung over one shoulder and his hair pinned to the side rather inartistically. He opened the door wide and stepped to the side, motioning the other inside.
“I am?” Sho glanced down at his watch as he stepped past the other and into the entranceway, frowning as he reached down to untie his shoes. “I’m sorry… I left work early to pick up some wine and I didn’t think I’d get here this fast. The train is almost always late or I end up missing it… should I go home and come back later?”
“No, you’re fine,” Jun insisted, laughing softly as he shut the door behind him, his face amused as he watched Sho struggling to unlace his shoes one handed, the other currently busy clinging to a bottle of wine. “Do you want me to take that?”
“Oh… yes. Thanks.” Sho handed him the wine, flashing him a nervous grin that showed too many teeth. “I got wine to go with dinner. I wasn’t sure what to get, but the woman at the store said that that would go well with pasta. You like wine, right? I should have asked if you drank….”
“I like wine,” Jun butted in, his lips moving silently as he turned the bottle over in his hand and read the label. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Sho grinned, his posture relaxing a little at the other’s reassurance. Jun was smiling at him, his lips curling upward just enough to show off the mole below his bottom lip, a mole that Sho hadn’t noticed the first time they’d met or any of the times they’d talked while waiting for the elevator or crossing paths in the hallway. He flushed slightly as he realized he was staring and looked away quickly, busying himself with straightening his shoes against the wall, his hands wandering idly over to do the same for several pairs of Jun’s.
Jun laughed silently to himself and reached down, touching Sho’s arm gently as he inclined his head toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll put the wine on to chill, and you can help me chop mushrooms for the sauce. You can use a knife, right?”
“Well enough to chop mushrooms.” Sho nodded, a small, unconscious smile on his lips as Jun lead him toward the kitchen, his hand still resting lightly against Sho’s upper arm.
--
There was currently a staring contest going on in Jun’s living room involving himself and the stranger-- Nino, according to Ohno-- sitting on their couch.
Jun crossed his arms over his chest, unwilling to be the first to relent as he stared at the other-much smaller, he was quick to note-man, his lips drawn into a thin line. He wasn’t sure why his mother had suddenly decided after so many months that he needed someone to talk to about what had happened. He would have thought the fact that she’d found him a roommate without so much as consulting him would have been enough. If anything, Ohno was the better spy-he was living here.
Then again, Ohno didn’t exactly strike him as the type to make a very good spy. He was observant enough, but it was hard to imagine him actually having the energy to report anything he found out. Maybe there was a reason this strange little man was sitting on the couch across from him, smiling an infuriating, knowing smile at him, afterall.
The man shifted and broke Jun’s gaze, the corners of his lips still curled into a smirk as he reached into his pocket to produce a pack of playing cards, stealing glances at Jun beneath his bangs as he started to shuffle them.
Jun huffed, finally fed up enough to break the silence. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a professional, but I’m not exactly a novice, either,” the man answered, his smirk widening as he leaned forward and reached behind Jun’s ear, pulling his hand back to reveal the two of hearts clutched between his fingers. “Besides, what I lack in technique I make up for with my winning personality.”
“I didn’t mean your card tricks,” Jun mumbled, frowning as he looked away. “If my mother sent you here to spy on me you’re not very good at it.”
“She didn’t,” the man answered with a slight shrug, slipping the card back into the deck before he started shuffling again. “You just assumed that.”
“If my mother didn’t send you, then what the hell are you doing here?” Jun asked, in no mood to put up with word games. It had been hard enough adjusting to having Ohno in his apartment after spending so many months alone, and he liked Ohno. Having some stranger come barging in, insisting that he was here on business-the business of prying into Jun’s business and taking up time that Jun could spend actually working, no doubt--was nearly unbearable.
“I told you already, I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need help,” Jun mumbled, voice and posture defensive. “So, you’re what, supposed to by my therapist? I don’t need one.”
The soft sound of the cards sliding against each other was enough to set Jun’s nerves on edge. “I prefer to think of myself as an assistant more than a therapist. I help you help yourself.”
Jun rolled his eyes and shifted, glaring openly at the other, the way he was slumped against the back of their couch, seemingly oblivious to Jun’s displeasure, only serving to irritate him more. “An assistant? I don’t need one of those, either.”
“You haven’t left your apartment since last spring.” The man’s response was enough to make Jun flinch, his soft, matter-of-fact tone and the fact that he already knew more about Jun than Jun knew about him just off-putting enough to override Jun’s anger over the whole situation. He kept shuffling the cards, the soft sound of them moving from hand to hand the only sound to fill the silence between them. Eventually, he chose to break it, lifting his eyes to met Jun’s. “I think you need something. You’re just afraid to ask for help.”
“I’m not afraid,” Jun answered automatically, breaking the other’s gaze to stare down at his lap, thoughts of friends and family members flitting across his mind before he effectively quashed them. “And I don’t need help.”
Jun heard the shrug more than saw it, his eyes still fixed on his lap, refusing to look up at the stranger across from him. He was too afraid of actually letting his doubt show on his face if he did. “Don’t you think it’s about time to put an end to this?”
“I’m fine. Besides, it’s not like having you around is going to make any difference,” Jun mumbled, forcing a heat into his voice that was a little less than convincing.
Nino shrugged, unaffected by the hostility in Jun’s voice. “Then I guess it won’t make a difference if I stick around. My boss is a real stickler about me putting in a certain number of hours with each of my cases.”
“Fine, but I’m not talking to you.”
“Fine with me,” the man answered, sounding entirely too proud of himself.
Jun decided that he didn’t like this man, even more than he disliked the knot of worry that he could feel forming in the pit of his stomach at this whole conversation.
--
The first time Sho and Jun went out together was a complete disaster. Sho had taken his time and planned out the perfect evening, going so far as to coordinate his outfit down to his socks and make a rough list of possible conversation topics, which he read over as he rode the train home from work that evening.
Not that he told Jun any of this, of course, since this was a friendly get together and most certainly not a date, and those were not the types of thing that you did for a simple friendly get together.
They didn’t much matter, though, as all of Sho’s carefully laid plans fell through once they arrived at the bar he’d chosen and found it full of loud, drunken salarymen.
“Sorry about that,” Sho mumbled once they’d fled said bar after an embarrassingly short period of time. His face was sheepish as he kept pace with Jun, their footsteps echoing quietly against the pavement as they did their best to avoid the crowds of drunken salarymen stumbling out of bars after a night spent celebrating another day of work over and done with.
“About what?” Jun looked up, his eyes curious and posture relaxed as he ignored a group of revelers stumbling past them and let himself enjoy the balmy springtime air.
“The bar,” Sho answered, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s usually a lot quieter in there. I didn’t realize there was a game tonight or we could have gone somewhere else.”
Jun laughed, the sound light and happy as he gave Sho a disbelieving look. “It was the 7th game of the championship series, Sho.”
Sho blinked, his face confused. “Wait… seriously?”
“You don’t follow a lot of baseball, do you?” Jun chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“No,” Sho admitted, although he was sure it was probably pretty obvious at this point. “I’m more of a soccer fan.”
“Are you sure you’re Japanese?” Jun teased him.
“Yes,” Sho insisted, laughing softly through his embarrassment. “There’s nothing wrong with liking soccer. It’s the most popular sport in the world!”
Jun snorted and shook his head as he shot Sho a look that said otherwise. “I bet you like Beckham, too.”
“I’m a real soccer fan,” Sho answered, his voice slightly offended. “I’d rather follow Ronaldo.”
“Who?” Jun asked, his voice curious as he moved a little closer to the other to avoid a group of young men stumbling out of a bar and right into his path, just drunk enough to be oblivious to everything and everyone around them.
“Cristiano Ronaldo,” Sho repeated, his mouth hanging open a little as Jun gave him a blank look. “He plays for Machester United. He scored the second highest number of goals last year in the world cup qualifications.”
“… you’re definitely not Japanese,” Jun mumbled, shaking his head and laughing softly at the look that Sho was giving him. He sighed dramatically as he took advantage of their closeness and reached out to take Sho’s hand loosely in his own. “I can’t believe we’re friends.”
“I--,” Sho opened his mouth to start to protest and stopped, his cheeks flushing an embarrassing shade of pink as Jun wove their fingers together as they walked. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“No. Why?”
“I’m making you watch soccer with me,” Sho mumbled, grinning to himself as he gave Jun’s hand a light squeeze.
--
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jun groaned as he walked into the living room to find Nino already seated on his couch, wearing a knowing smile, his trademark deck of cards clutched in one hand.
“Good morning, Jun,” Nino called back, his voice entirely too chipper for so early in the morning. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”
Jun rolled his eyes and flopped into an armchair, purposefully seating himself as far from Nino as possible. “Is that supposed to be inspiring?”
“Like it?” Nino met Jun’s eyes across the coffee table with another infuriating grin. “I read it on a poster once.”
"Brilliant," Jun answered dryly. "I guess quoting posters at me is supposed to fix me? Why didn't I think of that?"
"I told you-I can't fix you. I'm just here to assist. The hard work you have to do yourself," Nino answered, leaning forward to set the deck of cards on the table between them.
"Then you must like wasting your time, because I don't need your help," Jun answered, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the other a defiant look. It had been a week since Nino had wandered in here-- an entire week of Nino sitting on his couch every morning when Jun got up, and an entire week of Jun pointedly refusing to talk about anything. Jun didn't know what kind of boss Nino had, but whoever it was was obviously an idiot. There was no way having an employee spend an entire week sitting around watching variety TV while being blatantly ignored was productive; especially when it clearly wasn't getting him anywhere.
Nino just smiled at Jun and tapped the top of the deck of cards, one eyebrow carefully arched. "So you say. I thought we could change things up today."
"Getting tired already?"
"No, just bored. I thought we might make things more interesting," Nino drawled, an unspoken challenge in his eyes as they met Jun's. "We each draw a card from the deck. If you lose, you have to talk to me about the subject of my choice."
"And if you lose?" Jun asked, voice haughty to hide his uneasiness. The chances that he or Nino would win had to be about dead even, but the thought of losing... well, from what he'd seen of Nino, he doubted the other had a sympathetic bone in his body.
"I won't," Nino answered with a smirk. "But if I do, I'll leave."
"Leave?" Jun repeated, arching one eyebrow. "For the day?"
"For good."
Jun swallowed, his gaze flickering down to the deck of cards and back up to meet Nino's eyes. "For good? Won't your boss have something to say about that?"
Nino shrugged, looking entirely too smug. It was enough to set Jun's teeth on edge and have his long dormant competitive streak suddenly trying to claw its way out.
"I told you, I won't lose."
"We'll see," Jun murmured, his voice low, a tone that anyone who knew him well would know to fear. For his part, Nino looked unfazed. "The card values are the same as in poker?"
Nino nodded, his smirk widening at Jun's submission. "Ace high, Joker is trump, suits doesn't matter."
"And if we tie?"
"We keep drawing until someone wins."
Jun nodded and glanced back at the cards. "Who goes first?"
"Be my guest," Nino murmured, waving his hand over the cards with flourish. It reminded Jun vaguely of the magician his mother had hired for his 9th birthday party. Jun put on his best poker face as he leaned forward and cut the deck, flipping it over to reveal the Ace of Hearts. He met Nino's eyes, his mouth curving into a smirk of its own.
"An ace. Not bad." Nino whistled, the sound somehow mocking as he leaned forward and cut the deck on his own. Jun was already celebrating inside of his own head when Nino turned his cards over to reveal a Joker sitting on top, smiling mockingly up at him. "... but not good enough. It looks like I win."
"What? You cheated," Jun sputtered, the reaction automatic as he continued to stare down at the card. There was no way that Nino's luck was that good. No one's luck was that good. "You did some sort of card trick...."
"No need to be a sore loser," Nino answered, his tone hurt, even as he leaned forward to gather up the cards with that same annoying, knowing smile on his face. "You shouldn't accuse someone of cheating unless you can prove it."
"Just because I can't prove it doesn't mean it's not true," Jun muttered, scowling at the smaller man.
Nino slipped the deck of cards back into his pocket and gave Jun a look. "But you can't, so I win. Now, let's see-- oh, yes, I get to pick what we talk about, don't I? Well, how about we talk about Sho."
Jun paled at the name, his face falling as he struggled to find some way out of this. Out of all the topics Nino could have picked, that was the one that he least wanted to talk about, and damned if Nino didn't know it. "Pick something else."
Nino shook his head. "Nope. I won, so I get to pick the topic, and I want you to talk about Sho."
Jun swallowed, sitting quietly for a long moment as he weighed his options. He'd learned over the past week that Nino was nothing if not persistent, and even if he found some way to get out of talking about this now, the other would bring it up again and again and again. Maybe if he got it over with now Nino would be satisfied and never ask about it again. Maybe he'd even call it quits and leave Jun alone forever.
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
Nino leaned against the arm of the couch and gave Jun a triumphant look. "Let's start with the beginning."
Continue to Part 2