Or We Could Blossom (2/3)
Title: Or We Could Blossom
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ohno/Nino, Sho/Jun
Word count: 26,634
Summary: Nino is a talented young surgeon who is at a crossroads in his medical career. Ohno is the fearless Captain of Japan’s elite Special Forces Group. Their paths cross with a blaze in Japan, but things do not work out. Months later, they are surprised to find each other in the same UN outpost at Cyprus, both on missions of their own.
Part 1
It’s Nino’s last interview today, and he’s nervous as hell. After two failed applications-the first one because he’d been too young, and the second one because his research subject overlapped with another published study-he wants to make sure that his third attempt goes as planned. If Higashiyama-sensei is to be believed, this time around, he’s already got it in the bag. All he needs to do is to ace the final panel interview and he can finally be a professor.
Safe to say, it’s an extra stressful time, and when he’s not on duty, his nose is on books and medical journals. The only thing he’s looking forward to is seeing Ohno again, soon, even if he hasn’t been calling him at all. After the sudden sleepover on their first date-if that could even be considered a date-they saw each other again after a couple of days or so. They watched a movie and ate some cheap tsukemen at Shinjuku, where they had to wait in a line. The broth was creamy and rich, yes, but the best part about it was that he found out that he really enjoys Ohno’s company, the way he goes along with everything. He’s a little offbeat, a little out-of-sorts, but attentive in his own way. Nino was delighted that he wasn’t refused when he tentatively reached out for Ohno’s hand under the table. He won’t meet Nino’s eyes, but he didn’t shake him off either. They went their separate ways that night, with only a chaste kiss before they went on different train tracks.
Despite Ohno’s silent bravado and flirty overtures, Nino somehow sensed that it was better to take it slow. The butterflies didn’t lessen. In truth, every time they saw each other after that, Nino had only fallen for him harder, in the easiest way possible. They just fit, somehow.
On their most recent supposed-to-be date, they were planning to go for some drinks after Nino’s shift, with Ohno meeting up with him at the hospital. Nino was already newly showered and dressed up when Ohno called him. His voice was grave and apologetic, saying that he couldn’t make it for drinks. It sounded windy on Ohno’s end of the call. “Where are you?” Nino asked.
Somehow, minutes later, Nino had found himself on the rooftop of the hospital. Standing there was Ohno, in casual clothes but with a somber face. Nino wanted to laugh, but with a start, he realized that Ohno looked a bit too serious. “What are you doing here?”
Ohno took a step towards him. “I need to go. But you have to promise me that we’ll reschedule. There’s something I want to do with you, if you’ll let me.”
Nino heard the noise before it arrived. A black helicopter landed on the roof, meters away from where they stood. Standing there, his tufts of hair billowing in the wind, Nino wondered what kind of secrets someone with such an innocent face could keep. He realized that as much as his attraction to him was a very real thing, it also stood that he really didn’t know much about Ohno yet.
“What kind of cop gets fetched in a helicopter?”
“Nino.” Ohno reached out for his hand. “I’m not a bad person, I promise. But I can’t talk about it.”
“You have to go,” Nino said, the rumble of the engine making their conversation even more strained.
“You haven’t promised me that we’ll reschedule.”
A man in an all-black, military-looking outfit stepped out of the helicopter and stood in attention towards where they were. His hand went up in a salute. Nino stared at him, and then back to Ohno. “You’re not in a position to impose right now, really.”
Ohno squeezed his hand. “I’m not. But I want to see more of you, if you’d let me.”
“Don’t be dramatic. Just call me,” he found himself saying. For a second, Nino thought Ohno would hug him, but he didn’t. Instead, he squeezed his hand one last time, then jogged away. Watching him enter the helicopter and seeing it fly away felt like a dream. Nino had stood there for a long time, desire and confusion thrumming unevenly through him. He watched the black shape disappear into the dark horizon.
It has been two weeks, and Ohno still hasn’t called him. Nino doesn’t want to dwell on it, and instead looks forward to when he’ll call next-soon, probably. Even though he still doesn’t know a lot about him, Nino thinks that he can’t be the kind of person who will just disappear. He lets the the other tangent-the one where Ohno might have been hurt, doing what he does, whatever it is-slip at the back of his mind. He doesn’t need to worry about him, not right now. That, and when he thinks about it, he wouldn’t know where to go to find out how he’s been in the first place. All of it makes Nino feel unhinged, something Nino is unfamiliar with. They haven’t even dated for long, Nino thinks. Why should I feel this way? He shakes it off and focuses on his shift.
Late in the day, Aiba tells him that Higashiyama-sensei has called him. The moment he enters his senior’s room, he knows something is wrong. Higashiyama-sensei’s jaw are tensed, the usual playful glint in his eyes are absent. Nino feels like he’s hearing everything through a gauze as Higashiyama-sensei explains that even though he’s a very excellent contender and that his research work was very thorough, he felt that Nino was still “unripe for the position”.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing so much that the only thing he could ask to Higashiyama-sensei was “Who got it instead?”
The answer doesn’t please him, and he storms out of there, not caring that he might have been out of line to someone he respected otherwise. His breathing becomes rapid. He reaches the on-call room which is mercifully empty-the sound that the metal bedpost makes when he kicks it is shrill. He runs through all the things he could have done better, parts of the research paper that he could have fine-tuned. While taking a shower, he thinks about it over and over again, even if he knows deep inside that after all those months, his efforts really had no bearing with the results.
He had thought that Higashiyama-sensei would be partial and fair. How could he have chosen Tegoshi over him? Tegoshi, who still botched simple procedures? Whose hands are unskilled and steady?
Simple, Nino thinks. Tegoshi was born into the right family, a family that donated a new surgical wing for the hospital last year. Even if Nino had second-second!-highest marks from his Todai batch, even if he had been the best resident, even if many of his other seniors acknowledge his innate talent for surgery, his “magical hands”-he would never be good enough. True, he has become an elite, a doctor at The University of Tokyo Hospital, he is also making more money than he could ever have imagined in his childhood. But he had gotten there through hard work, through scholarships, through his single mother working multiple part-time jobs. Nino, through those years, dreamt of pursuing higher research, of improving lives, of doing more. Maybe that’s why he loves video games too-he loves having control over a situation, of having the ability to save the day.
Has he really been so naïve? Until that moment, Nino believed that everything can be won over by skill and merit.
The taxi ride home is an unusual expense for him, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to have a cold can of beer and boot up one console after another. He has been working so hard all these years, for nothing, seemingly, and right now, he just wants to be numb.
Is it relief? Or desperation? Nino tries to name the feeling as the elevator doors ping open and he sees Ohno getting to his feet, a couple of plastic bags strewn around him. It looks like he had been waiting in front of his door for quite some time. He smiles as he shoves his hands shyly in his jeans, short bangs flopping to his face. Against the dim, warm lighting of the corridor, Nino finds him irreverently handsome. He walks slowly toward him, stopping only when his foot is in between Ohno’s feet, hands on his slim hips.
“Oh-chan. I had a horrible day.”
“Did you,” Ohno murmurs, eyes kind and observing, his breath warm.
“Yup, the worst.” Nino closes his eyes and kisses him, keys forgotten for the moment.
*
It’s 3 in the morning, and Ohno is in a military plane headed for Kabul, again. It hasn’t been a month since their last mission in Afghanistan, but this one is more crucial, if their terse briefing from the normally chummy Colonel Matsuoka is any indication. Two high-level UN officials active in the Gandamak region have been kidnapped by the Taliban, and it’s their mission to retrieve them safely. Team Alpha Sakura, the top-secret elite unit of Japan Self-Defense Forces, have always been the one tapped for sensitive and usually dangerous missions that the Japan military can’t put their name behind.
He tamps down a huge desire to yawn-he doesn’t want his team to think he’s not focused, even though he’s pretty sure that they know him well enough. Five years of being together and relying on each otheir to save lives and save each other’s lives tend to make that easier. They’re all strapped in securely now, all geared up in their nameless black Kevlar combat uniforms, waiting for the right time.
The pilot talks over the radio. “Five minutes until drop-off point.”
Ohno closes his eyes and takes a huge breath. Adrenaline surges through his veins, giving him a charged kind of stillness. After hundreds of missions, it never gets old. When he opens his eyes, his team are all sitting up straight, awaiting his orders as Captain of Team Alpha Sakura.
“Dacchi. Rockstar. You will enter from the southeast. Wait for my signal before you advance into the hostage area.”
“Yes, sir!” The two across from him reply in unison.
He turns towards the two on his left. “Pi-chan. Bambi. You’re going with me. Bambi, make sure we don’t lose track of their heat stamps. We don’t want to walk into a trap.”
“Affirmative, Leader,” Sho says. Ohno nods at all of them.
“One minute.”
They all remove their cross-body seatbelts and crawl into position by the door. It’s just another day at work for them. When the hatch opens, they all take turns jumping and pulling on their harnesses, activating their parachutes that only appear as blobs against the cloudy night sky. The air rushes around Ohno’s ears. He preps himself for a safe landing.
After making sure that everyone is good to go, Ohno silently gives everyone the go signal. From there, everything progresses quickly. Their instincts and training take over as they enter the compound, immediately encountering resistance and gunshots. The enemy knew that there will eventually be a rescue effort for the two UN officials, and they’ve outfitted the perimeter with correspondingly tight security. Ohno signals for the other half of Team Alpha Sakura to give them cover. With a rioutous volley of close-range gunfire, they advance carefully to where Sho leads them, the heat stamps on his detector leading their way.
“Leader, second door to the left.” Ohno nods.
“Rockstar and Dacchi, cover Bambi,” he says over the radio. A bullet whizzes by his waist. He plants himself flatter against the wall. “Bambi, make sure we can make a dash for it. Pi-chan and I will secure the targets.”
“Yes sir!” Ohno signals to Yamashita. Sho stands to the side as Ohno and Yamashita use their shoulders to barge through the locked door. They enter the room back to back, quickly knocking out the four people with guns via quickly executed shots. A well-built henchman lurches for Ohno from behind. Ohno crouches down and uses his attacker’s weight to topple him forward. He punches him across the jaw, his knuckles gnashing through flesh. Twice, thrice.
Ohno hears Yamashita grunt loudly. For the millisecond it takes to glance at his teammate in a choke hold, Ohno’s own attacker knocks out his shin and lurches up, grazing his leg with a knife. He quickly regains his composure and uses his position to knee his attacker in the groin, wresting the knife away from him, slashing him enough to injure.
“Pi-chan, you okay?” Yamashita nods as he claps the dust away from his hands. Relieved, Ohno turns his sight to the two UN officials tied at the end of the room, looking terrified but unharmed. They untie them and show their badges, assuring them that they are not the enemy. The escape is harrowing, their exit accompanied by a hail of bullets, but they safely reach the rendezvous point behind the small hill thanks to Sho’s deft tactics.
Ohno takes a deep breath only when they are in mid-air, the hostages and his team safe and strapped in. Across him, Sho shoots him a look, his eyes trailing down to Ohno’s leg. The pain isn’t registering with him yet, but he can feel the wetness seeping through his pants. He shakes his head at Sho, giving him a small smile. Sho knows not press the issue-at least, not until they land. Ohno closes his eyes, the adrenaline slowing down, the absurdity of it all making him a bit incredulous, as always. Just weeks ago, he said goodbye on a roof to Nino. And now, he’s on his way back to Japan, with a fresh, shallow knife wound on his leg, and lots of laundry and cleaning up to do at home. It’s an unusual life, but Ohno doesn't hate it. There is payback in it that it isn't immediately apparent, but feels true to him. He watches the relief on the hostages faces in silence.
After Sho manhandles him to the clinic right after they land and gets his wound treated, Ohno heads home. It's always when he's in his own space that he feels all his injuries. Thank god for the pills; the pills always help. He crashes to his bed, blacking out for the better part of the day. When he wakes up, it’s already night time. He is single-minded about what he wants to do, and more importantly, who he wants to see. Just thinking about it already makes him feel better.
The one-hour wait at Nino’s door is nothing, not when Nino vaguely tells him he has had a bad day and proceeds to give him a knee-melting kiss. Ohno feels all his stress float away from his skin, leaving only Nino-the smell of him, the shape of his back against Ohno’s exploring hands, all that Ohno’s been craving since he’s been away.
“Shouldn’t we take this inside?” Ohno whispers. Nino breaks away from him as a response, digging through his pocket for his key. After they enter and get their shoes off, Ohno kisses him again, walking him backwards to the sofa.
“Bad day too?” Nino murmurs.
“Forgot about all that once you kissed me.”
Nino laughs, curling his arms around him, trusting and pliant, and allows himself to be gently nudged down. They are shuffling themselves into a comfortable position when Nino’s leg hits his injury. Ohno cries out before he can stop himself.
“Sorry!” Nino pries himself up on his elbows, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
Ohno sits up with a wince. “No, it’s okay.”
“What happened to your leg?”
“It’s just a small scratch. Don’t worry about it. ”
Ohno could tell through Nino’s frown that he wants to ask more, if not take a look at it. After a tense moment, Nino gets up and instead walks to the kitchen. Ohno feels bad as he watches Nino’s digging through his refrigerator. There’s really nothing to say. When Nino returns with a couple of beer cans, he frowns at him.
“Don’t think you can get away with everything just by smiling.”
Ohno thumbs his beer can open. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
Nino sighs and takes a long swig from his Kirin. “If only you weren’t cute.”
They spend the night drinking beer and watching a documentary about sharks with the volume down. Nino mentions failing his interview, which he brushes aside when Ohno asks about it further. Ohno discovers that there are walls around Nino that will take some time to get around. His instinct is to bulldoze through them, like he does everything in his life, but something about Nino's eyes tell him that no, not this time. With Nino, he feels like he could be patient, in any way Nino needs him to be. He settles for grabbing Nino’s hand. Nino reciprocates by curling into him. They’re terribly comfortable and a little tipsy when Ohno remembers what he wanted to do.
“Wait.”
Nino grumbles when he has to untangle himself from Ohno, who rummages through his bag.
“I want to draw you,” Ohno says, waving his small sketchpad and box of charcoal. “You promised me.”
Nino stares at him. “I made no such promise.”
Ohno settles on the floor and lays out his stuff on the coffee table. “I said it on the helipad, that I wanted to do it, and you told me not to be dramatic and just call you.”
“You didn't say anything of that sort, Oh-chan. I’m not going to be sitting here naked while you draw me.”
Ohno looks up at him. “I never said I wanted to draw you naked.”
Nino’s cheeks grow red, to Ohno’s sudden delight. “Whatever. No sketching or drawing of any of my body parts!” He nimbly reaches for Ohno’s sketch pad and shuffles through his work.
“Is this your hobby?” Nino asks, voice softer than he intends. Ohno nods.
“You’re kind of good.”
“Does that mean-”
“Nope, you can’t sketch me. I mean, I wouldn’t even be able to sit still for you.” He stands up and gets another round of beer for them.
Nino returns to Ohno doodling idly anyway. He peers at his scribbles of monkeys with guns, sighing at him. “You’re so weird.”
Soon, Nino is dozing off on the couch. Ohno drapes a blanket over him, kneeling beside him. It’s strange yet satisfying to find out that you have a type, Ohno thinks. His just happens to be a cute, if sometimes sullen surgeon who lives like a critter at home. He both wants to make out with him all the time, and just look at him in silence, like this. A little pocket of peace. Ohno touches his mole, his favorite detail about Nino.
The next time they meet, Nino chides him for leaving without saying a word. The family restaurant is buzzing with people brunching together, but Ohno can only hear Nino, now nibbling on a slice of hotcake. The way he had said it was a joke, but the way Nino darts his eyes to him then back to his plate is furtive, like he had just said something out of line and doesn’t want any attention called to it.
“I can stay all day today,” he says, making sure to sound as soothing as possible. He had planned as much after picking a tired Nino up from his graveyard shift. They eat their brunch in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. Nino’s features are almost muted by the sunlight streaming from the window.
On the way back to Nino’s apartment, Nino stops in his tracks.
“Oh-chan, if you draw me, what would that mean?”
Ohno furrows his brows. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“What was the point, then? Why did you ask me? For fun?”
He wonders if it’s a trick question, but Nino’s expression doesn’t yield any clues. He decides to go for honesty. “I just really like your face.”
“What?”
“I like your face. I want to draw all the details,” he says, running a hand through his hair, suddenly shy. “I like it.”
Nino frowns. “You like it that much?”
He reaches out for Nino’s mole with his thumb, hearing how his breath hitches. “Yes.”
“You’re pretty shallow,” Nino says, slipping his hand in his.
“Well, I like the rest of you too, if that’s what you want to hear.” Nino doesn’t acknowledge him and instead walks on, dragging him in a leisurely pace. When they reach the apartment, Nino doesn’t say anything and heads straight for his room. Ohno settles on the couch and turns on the tv, switching on to another documentary. For some reason, watching nature documentaries make him switch to a lazy calm that he likes. He waits for Nino so they can snuggle in the couch together, just like they did the other night. That had felt nice.
Nothing could have prepared him from Nino stepping out of his room in just his sweatpants. He puts Ohno’s art materials on the table, his face completely casual, ignoring Ohno as he passes by him. Nino’s torso is pale and lean, and Ohno immediately wants to touch him, all of him. Instead, he watches him putting on some coffee, watches him going around the his unit to open all the curtains. The band of his underwear is blue and orange, making way to slim, tapered hips. Ohno could watch the way the afternoon sun bounces off his angles, his feet light against the dark grain of the wood for hours.
The smell of arabica fills Ohno’s nose. Nino sets a steaming cup on the table, and sits on the one-seater across Ohno, curling his legs underneath him. He sips his coffee a few times before he meets Ohno’s eyes.
“I’m thin, I don’t have time to work out,” he says. “Any break I get is for gaming.”
The coffee is surprisingly strong. “I figured as much.”
“Oh-chan, I need you to understand something about me.”
He’s never really met someone like Nino, so he takes it as a positive, that Nino is branching out for him. The air is still in between them. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t reject people a lot,” he says, thick fingers wrapping around his cup. “But not everyone gets that close. You’re practically still a stranger to me, you know?”
Ohno winces at that. “Nino, if this is about what I do-”
“It is, but I understand you. I just want you to know that I don’t chase after something that leaves.” He sets down his cup. “It’s like I’m an automatic door.”
“Automatic door?”
Nino laughs softly. “Well, it’s a weak analogy. But before anything happens with us, I just need that to be on the table.”
He can see that Nino is serious-open, even. This is a Nino that he doesn’t know well yet, a Nino that is intriguing far beyond the small, physical details that Ohno had latched on to at first. This Nino, sitting across him is offering him something that Ohno’s only beginning to consider now as a possibility. He finds that there is nothing to think about, that he wants whatever it is that Nino offers. A terms of surrender. Ohno nods, unable to form words in the intensity of Nino’s gaze. He follows the flow of the moment and grabs the sketchpad and a pencil.
“My face first?”
Ohno swallows. “Sure.”
Nino shifts into a more comfortable position. “You can have the rest of me too. Just let me have my coffee first,” he says, as if it wasn’t an earth-shattering thing and instead something simple and given.
His hands moves on their own, furious and without much effort. Nino isn’t skin and bones, but there is delicacy there, in the way each breath makes his belly rise and fall. His coffee goes untouched. Nino looks out the window, content to be sitting there, with only the sound of lead scratching against paper peppering the silence. Every once in a while, he’ll meet Ohno’s eyes, and Ohno gets the odd feeling that it’s actually him being watched, being seen, being sketched. He wonders what lines Nino uses in his head. Blunt, rough strokes? Thin whisps that almost don’t register? He wonders if it’s a nice view.
When he finishes, he realizes that his own lines are light, that Nino’s face done in his hand is a ghost. His hand is still trembling slightly. He wants Nino.
“It’s not my best work.”
Nino doesn’t say anything when Ohno shows him the rough sketch. Instead, he stands up and walks over to Ohno. He leans over and kisses Ohno on the lips softly, grabbing the sketchpad and setting it aside on the couch. They could kiss forever, he would be fine with it, Ohno thinks. At least, until Nino reaches down and squeezes over his pants. He moans into Nino’s mouth, wanting many things at once, and all of them involving having Nino closer.
When Nino kneels, it takes awhile for Ohno’s brain to catch up. The visual is too much. Nino makes quick work of his belt and zipper, tugging his jeans down impatiently. Ohno raises his hips and removes his pants, with Nino taking over as soon as he’s only in his boxer briefs. His hands stream up and down his thighs, avoiding his injury, a tickly sensation sparking on his skin. Nino’s kisses and mouths his half-hard cock through the cotton fabric in teasing bursts of warmth, and Ohno is about to lose it.
“Get me there,” he says without thinking. Ohno is already in the next moment, is in a furious, whited-out fog where only Nino's mouth exists. He finds his hand grabbing a fistful of Nino’s hair.
Nino’s eyes shoot up at him, his expression not exactly surprised-but there is wonder there, a hint of intent. Ohno realizes that he’s grabbing on to Nino’s hair too tightly. He lets go as if scalded, heart racing fast, mind scrambling to get back to the present.
“Sorry,” he finds himself saying.
“Hey.” Nino kisses him on his thigh. “Don't be. Okay?”
Ohno nods. Nino pulls down on his underwear, enough to set him free. "You could have me any way you want.”
“Ah,” Ohno mutters, shocked as Nino licks a strip along the underside of his hardening cock, his hands digging into the couch.
“Go for it,” Nino says, eyes still on Ohno. “And say it again. I’ll do it.” It’s not a threat, it’s a gift. A gift that no one’s been able to give him, because he’s never really asked anyone. Ohno, through the haze of Nino jerking him off with his hand, pace erratic but unhurried, recognizes the expression in his eyes. Nino takes him in his mouth, the slick heat almost too much for Ohno already. How could Nino have known? How could Nino just say it like that?
He is unprepared, he doesn't have an action plan in mind. The terrain is foreign, there are no maps. It's a brutal ambush. Nino changes his angle, sucks softly on his head.
“Get me there,” he says, fingers grabbing on to disheveled tufts of black hair. Nino takes him deeper. “Fit all of my cock in your mouth,” he says, the words a thrill on his tongue. He almost comes from Nino moaning around him. He takes all of Ohno in, pausing to get used to his size. Ohno feels a rush at seeing Nino like this, on the floor, at his mercy-he feels his body tensing up, knowing that he won’t last for much longer. He shoves his cock a little deeper, testing Nino.
Nino coughs lightly around him but doesn’t budge. He looks up at him like he’s the one issuing a challenge-and that’s all Ohno needs. His fingers tighten around Nino’s hair as he thrusts into Nino, faster and shallower, with Nino taking all of it. Ohno comes with a silent, labored gasp. Nino has gotten him there and swallows all of evidence of it.
He feels amazing, but he’s also burdened by a wash of affection so intense that he grabs Nino up to him, framing his face and kissing the tip of his nose.
“You did it.”
Nino laughs. “It’s just a blowjob, Oh-chan.”
Ohno thinks it’s the biggest understatement of the year. Nino straightens up, and Ohno sees his sweatpants tenting. Ohno sits up, removing his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Nino asks.
“Returning the favor. Also it’s hot.”
He drags Nino to stand in between his legs, hands tearing his sweatpants down. No need for ceremony, he thinks. He noses at Nino’s hard-on, liking what he smells. There is already pre-come on the tip of his cock, and he licks it, lapping the tip of his tongue along the slit.
“Oh-chan, don't drag this on,” Nino says. Ohno doesn’t say more and takes Nino’s cock in his mouth without preamble, bobbing his face relentlessly. He sets a fast pace, partly because he knows that Nino’s close, but mostly because he’s always wanted to suck Nino’s cock since he saw him-at least, that’s what he thinks now, because he could do this all day. He learns that he likes being on the giving end too. Nino’s little whimpers spur him on, and right when he knows Nino is about to come, he comes up for air.
“What do you think you're doing?”
“How long have you wanted this?”
“Not as…long you have,” Nino stammers, as Ohno mouths his crown lightly, hand reaching out for his balls. Nino keens into his palm.
“Wrong answer, Ninomiya-sensei”
“Fuck you,” Nino says, his hand about to grab his own cock, and Ohno slaps it away, intent as he takes Nino back in and finishing him off. Unlike Ohno, Nino screams out as Ohno hollows his cheeks over and over. He’s so beautiful like this, Ohno thinks. He sets a faster pace, his hand helping things along. Nino pushes him away in warning, but he stays for it, finishing every last drop.
Spent, Nino crashes beside Ohno on the couch. Ohno reaches out or his hands, and they stay there, quiet and linked. They take a shower together later, the spray refreshing on Ohno’s back as he takes a moment to hold Nino against him, his chin tucked on his shoulder. Nino laughs and swats him away. “You’ll fall asleep here if I gave you the chance.”
Ohno doesn’t protest when Nino drags him to bed after that. It’s barely nighttime, but Nino closes all the curtains and slips underneath the sheets with him. They lie there, sleepy and facing each other. Ohno doesn’t remember being this comfortable with anyone, ever. It feels like something has been wrenched open inside of him, and everything is flowing out in a rivulet. They don't have to say anything. Ohno feels like he can be himself, like he doesn't have to defend this intensity, this joy of being skin on skin and not feeling like he could lose it immediately. Nino smiles at him, eyes soft for once.
“You’re like my favorite pair of socks” is what he comes up with. Nino laughs-Ohno is slowly becoming addicted to its surprisingly innocent lilt-and kisses him squarely on the lips.
Nino pokes him on the side. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Ohno grins. “Sleep. I know you’re tired.”
For once, Nino doesn’t resist and falls asleep easily. It takes awhile for Ohno, but he follows suit. When his phone rings a couple of hours later, he jolts awake with a sick feeling. After several straight high-risk missions, the Major General had decided to assign them to “relaxed duties” abroad a couple of months down the road. Until then, they were supposed to have no scheduled or emergency deployments, only additional tactical training for their next long stint.
“Colonel Matsuoka,” he answers, his own voice sounding bleary to him. He sits up in bed, careful not to disturb Nino as he listens to his superior.
It’s one of those emergency, top-secret missions where he’s not to talk to anyone or be seen even before he reaches headquarters for a more detailed brief. Nino looks so peaceful all curled up and snug under the duvet. Ohno knows that he needs to leave as soon as possible, but agonizes over the fact that even if he does wake up Nino to tell him that he’s leaving, he won’t be able to tell him why.
Maybe there’s no need to. He will be gone for a week, worst case scenario. Nino would understand, right? Ohno kisses him on his forehead, leaving with his heart torn and already missing Nino.
*
It’s been a couple of months, and even though Nino still brings his best efforts to work, he still can’t shake off the feeling that he’s not living up to his potential, that everything feels pointless. He was hurt by the whole Ohno episode-he has an ugly track record with people not sticking around, after all-but it wasn’t new to him. People leave, don’t they? For Nino, it’s not a singular gloomy thought, it’s simply reality.
Ohno had tried to call him three-three!-weeks after he had left him without a word. Nino didn’t want any of it, didn’t want any of his excuses. His distance had felt like a rebuke, and Nino found it hard to understand something that he couldn't even ask about. He had methodically closed off all Ohno-related thoughts and called it a day. Aiba accuses him of being emotionally stunted, but Nino doesn’t want to suffer unneccessarily. In his head, Ohno was just a nice guy who may have wanted him, but not as much as he wanted Ohno. Sparks or not, there might as well be a gulf in between them.
What kind of person disappears after a day like that? Was it all momentary convenience? Nino wills himself to forget all the details that had made him believe in more, even for just a bit.
But his day-to-day life is a different thing. Nino’s always been someone who likes work, surprisingly, and he couldn’t bring himself to resign and just play games all day, like he had threatened Higashiyama-san in a childish tirade. He’s in a professional slump, and he knows it. He’s been trying to hide his dissastisfaction, but Aiba, perceptive as he is, keeps on asking him about it after giving up on the Ohno angle. Nino doesn’t budge about it either and says nothing. Eventually, Aiba seems to have understood that it was something Nino had to process by himself. At least, he thought so, until he spots a flyer wedged in his locker and Aiba goes, “it wasn’t me!”
Nino reads through the hospital memo. It’s a call from the management for anyone who would like to participate in a medical service project for a few months in Cyprus. They’re looking for a team leader and several volunteers to set up and test a new kind of mobile facility that some graduate students from Todai have designed. Nino could feel Aiba hovering as he reads through it.
“Cyprus sounds like a sandy place,” he says, eyes still flicking over the details, easily reading Aiba’s mind.
“Asami-chan and I already signed up. We passed our requirements and all!”
“What! Isn’t that too hasty? Why do you want to be away from Japan anyway?”
Aiba grabs the flyer from him. “Experience, kid, experience. It would alse be nice to get away from the bureaucracy here, don’t you think?”
Nino slumps down on one of the chairs. “What would you know about that? Everyone likes you.”
“Everyone except Asami-chan,” Aiba grins. Nino looks up at him, realization settling in. He rubs his face with a hand.
“You are the only person I know who would volunteer for a mission far away from home just to get a date,” Nino says, laughing through his exasperation.
Aiba crosses his arms, a challenging smile on his face. "Well, yeah."
“Aiba-shi, you've outdone yourself on this one.”
“See, this is where you think you know better than me, you always think so, right,” Aiba says, putting on a fresh shirt. “But you don’t!”
Nino snorts. “Okay.”
“No, seriously, hear me out. When you are faced with challenges, it also means that you’re faced with…what is it…more potential to grow. You can’t give up just because you got one door closed on your face. Or thrice, in your opinion. Thrice is just the beginning, Ninomi!”
“Two things. One, you definitely planted that flyer in my locker. Two, I don’t know if that’s your idea of inspiring me and rousing me to action, but you definitely failed.”
“You know I’m right.”
“You’re never right.”
Aiba shrugs and tucks the memo in Nino’s patient folder, slapping him on the shoulder as he leaves the room.
But after close to a decade of knowing and working with each other, it turns out that Aiba still knows Nino best. A month later, he finds himself waiting at the Nicosia International Airport, along with a team of twenty colleagues. Nino has never been much for travel, and even if he was, he wouldn’t have been partial to a Mediterranean island. Months ago, it would have been unthinkable that he himself would sign up to months of hot weather and the highly physical work of establishing a coastal medical unit. Even now as he’s standing on the most foreign soil he’s ever been, he wonders if it’s a smart decision.
Emotionally, he had known that staying in the same environment would have driven him to a depression that he’s not unfamiliar with. Nino has always been a motivated person at the core, but when it’s his values that are being compromised, it’s a different convesation. It’s the first time in his life that he feels like he can’t do his best, and that puts a gray pallor over everything he does. He needed a change, and Aiba knew it. That, and the compensation package definitely couldn't hurt.
The sun is high and bright, the air, dry, making Nino chug more water than he normally would. “Matsujun!” Aiba screams, his arm-no, body-waving to the specks of brown walking in the distance. For awhile, Nino experiences a dissonance, with Aiba’s elbow digging in his chest, frantic and overjoyed. “Nino it’s J, I’m telling you. It’s J!” Nino feels like he might be getting dizzy as the specks become a troop of Japanese officers in dark blue berets-and leading them, just as Aiba said, is Matsujun.
“Ninomiya-sensei, I’m glad to see you,” the stern-looking soldier says as he takes off his aviators a little too hammily. His eyes shift to Aiba, nodding to him. “And you too, Aiba…chan.”
“What are you doing here, of all places? And why does Nino get the formalities and I…get patronized?”
At this, the soldier gives up all manner of formality and cracks up, and Nino does too, still half in disbelief and half-relieved, because if there is a person in the world who can be relied on in an arid, subtropical town-or anywhere, really-it would be Matsumoto Jun. Even if he hasn’t seen him in almost a decade, and definitely not in a well filled-out brown camouflage uniform and short hair.
Aiba and Jun easily do their shake-hands-bump-into-chest half hug, which throws Nino right back to a decade ago. Even now, when Jun starts towards him and they hug breifly but warmly, Nino’s heart still does a skip. It’s a meaningless gesture, really, but when it comes from Jun, it comes with a wealth of unspoken sincerity. “You look really good, J,” Nino says to him, meaning it.
“You look like you need to be fed more,” Jun says, hand on his hip. Nino doesn’t miss the slight blush on his face.
“Well, you’re free to feed me some Turkish delights while I’m here then.”
Jun grins. “If you want. Anyway, I’m the one to help your team get settled at the camp.”
“Haven’t you become impressive, Matsujun,” Aiba jibes with obvious fondness.
“It’s First Lieutenant Matsumoto of the JSDF International Peace Cooperation Activities Training Unit here in Cyprus. But ‘sir’ will do for you, Aiba-chan.” Nino snorts. He really has missed that trademark Matsumoto Jun smirk, he really has.
“Over my dead body,” Aiba exclaims. “Have you forgetten that I beat you and Ninomi here in every single arm wrestling match back in the dorms? I'm obviously the physically superior human being among us three”
Jun crosses his arms. “Try me later.”
“Are you sure? But you hate losing, right?” Nino can’t believe his ears-it’s like college all over again. Nino has to pry them from their passionate exchange as the rest of the team gather around the rather handsome newcomer. The women are already shamelessly sizing him up.
Hasty introductions are done, and they all file into a humongous helicopter. It’s too noisy for decent conversation, so Nino makes do with exchanging rather tight-lipped smiles with Jun and trying not to be overpowered by an impending headache. It’s been such a long time since he has seen Jun. After a few years of pre-med, Jun decided to leave Todai and continue his studies abroad in a prestigious military school. He can look back at it fondly now, but at the time, it had been devastating for Nino. He remembers nights of skimming through Jun’s photos of his new friends and interests in New York, the flash of his laptop screen cold and blue against his eyes.
They might’ve been young, but Nino knew that whatever unnamed thing they had for those years was real. It was real to the point of them never ever talking to each other again, even if technology could have made it easy. To have Jun in front of him again, all grown-up and more self-assured than Nino’s ever seen or known him to be, is assuring, if a touch bittersweet. Aiba is seated at his side, and Nino bemoans Aiba's noisy thinking. He decidedly avoids his inquiring eyes.
They get to the base, a scrappy but clean compound with several bungalows, a rudimentary running track, and many fragrant trees. Nino could smell the brine of the sea. Jun tours all of them around, introducing all the other personnel that weren’t part of their airport welcome committee. First Lieutenant Matsumoto seems to be well-respected by his peers-officers of different nationalities all snap into attention in his presence and the female locals in the mess hall are understandably sweet to him. He briefly runs through what they’ve had a couple of seminars about in Tokyo already, explaining the UN’s role in Cyprus. Whenever anyone asks a question, he answers it with a friendly thoughtfulness, and Nino could see his team warming up to him.
Jun wraps up his tour, and Nino smiles at how impressive he’s become, but also how unchanged.
“The cubes will be airdropped by tomorrow, so you can start setting up by then. For now, feel free to settle in. I’ll see you guys at the mess hall later for dinner,” Jun says, depositing the bags he helped them with on the floor. The door has barely shut close on their room when Aiba flops on the bed and laughs.
“You can faint now, Ninomi. I won’t judge.”
“Please.”
“Him in that uniform though! Did you see him carrying our bags like they were nothing? And since when did he have biceps? If I were gay, he’d be so my type.”
Nino pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll kick you out.”
“The UN has decreed that we’ll be roommates. You can’t rebel against the UN, or against First Lieutenant Matsujun either.”
“He’ll have you thrown in jail for that, I have no doubt.”
“Once a Matsujun, always a Matsujun.”
He throws a duffel bag on top of Aiba’s belly, ignoring his whingeing. They settle in, organizing the sparse wardrobe and personal items they brought with them. The welcome dinner is a laidback affair, except for the part where he had to make a speech as the team leader. Nino thinks he gets through it fine, but it makes him wonder what the hell he’s doing there again.
The next day, the five Medicubes are lifted to the camp. With the help of the troops, the capsules all get interlinked, hooking it up to the waiting power and water sources. It takes them half the day, but when it’s done, it looks neat. Outside, they look like connected white shipping containers, emblazoned with subtle seals of the UN and Todai. Nino gets truly excited when he enters the Medicube. He has seen the mock-ups presented by the students in Tokyo, but nothing could could prepare him for the real thing. Inside, it almost looks like it could be a wing of their hospital, only more high-tech and patient-friendly. Everything is brand-new, and Nino feels a little bit gleeful when he enters the surgery module, admiring the thorough work that’s been done to make it a reality.
Asami floats to his side after checking the neat stacks of medications and equipment in the next-door module. “Nino, this is pretty cool, right? I’m not over-reacting?”
Nino grins at her nerdy freak-out. “Yeah, it’s cool.”
They waste no time setting a recognizable order they’re all used to, and Nino basks in the pleasant productivity of it. After a couple of days, all the stations and modules are in place, and they’re ready to open. Nino, while used to heading surgeries, is finding his way around leading an actual team on a day-to-day basis. It presents some challenges-some, he’s a little uncomfortable with, but he takes everything as a learning opportunity. In their first two weeks in camp, they set out to do vaccinations for kids from an orphanage, a task that’s one of their mission’s high priorities. There are some bumps, but it goes smoothly, the team adapting to the Medicube facilities quite adeptly. Time goes by in a flash, and Nino finds himself thriving in all the work.
One day, Jun ambushes him in the morning. “Think your team can lend you to me for an afternoon?”
“What’s happening?”
“You work too hard,” Jun says, perching casually on Nino’s desk. He crosses his legs, showing off unreally shiny boots in a dusty camp. Nino smirks.
“I’m not going to take that kind of remark from someone like you.”
“Fine.” Jun replies. “I came here to invite you out. I’m betting you haven’t seen much of Cyprus at all. How about some souvlakias at Kyriakos, then coffee somewhere nearby?”
“My, my, First Lieutenant, that sounds like you just wanting a lunch buddy. Feeling lonely?”
“I’ll pay, if that’s what’s putting you in a snit,” Jun says, looking at his nails. “I’m going to headquarters too. I think it would be nice for you to meet the medical operations head here. Also need to pick up my senior at the airport later.”
Nino can’t very well question Jun after an offer of free lunch. After delegating tasks and making sure everything is taken care of, they set off. In the car and outside of the camp, Jun is more relaxed and chatty. Nino realizes that they really haven’t had the chance to talk and catch up yet, with all the stress and bustle setting up the Medicube. They have lunch at the place Jun suggested, a simle backyard tavern that puts Nino at ease. The food is good, and Nino enjoys the juicy meat flavors in the burrito-like dish Jun recommended. Jun looks happy to be out of the camp as well. They talk about the past few years and how they’ve reached where they both are. In many ways, Jun really hasn’t changed-it comforts Nino.
After having a quick coffee stop, Jun introduces Nino to the medical operations head in Cyprus. They have a productive conversation about what Nino hopes to accomplish during his time in camp. When they finish, Jun drives to the airport. Nino notices his silence and the viselike grip on the steering wheel. Jun finds a parking slot, turning to Nino when he finishes.
“Nino, the people we’re picking up, one of them is kind of my senior. Like, really, really my senior.”
“Okay?” Nino says, unsure about what his reaction is supposed to be.
Jun breathes out as he fixes his already tidy fringe under his beret. “No funny business. I need a recommendation letter from this guy.”
“Recommending you for what?” He meets Jun eyes, seeing only honesty and nerves there. When he doesn’t answer, Nino speaks up. “J, it should be okay. Not that I know much, but from what I see, you run the camp very well. And everyone loves you. At least, the lunch ladies do. They can probably recite a litany of your good qualities, plus how perfect you hair always seems to be underneath that beret.”
This gets Jun rolling his eyes, but Nino could tell that it makes him a bit more relaxed. They wait at the arrival area, right in front of the exit. Nino doesn’t really know what to expect, so he slouches against the railings, getting a bit bored after ten minutes. At his side, Jun is standing ramrod straight. They hear before they see the plane approaching. Minutes later, they see it taxi down the runway as it skids to a smooth stop.
There are six people who walk through the gates. One is in the same uniform that Jun is wearing, and the other five in tough-looking uniforms that Nino’s only seen on television dramas. It’s all-black, subtle, but somehow menacing with combat boots. They also don’t wear the blue berets that the guys at camp have, theirs are black and have a pink emblem on it.
“It’s a cherry blossom tree,” Jun whispers. He snaps into attention as they come closer. “First Lieutenant Matsumoto reporting for duty.”
The guy leading the pack removes his shades. “At ease, soldier.”
Nino’s knees almost give in. He almost doesn’t recognize Ohno outside his jeans and worn-looking sweaters, doesn’t register his commanding voice as familiar-this is a different person altogether.
“Ninomiya-sensei,” he says, tipping his head to him. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He feels like his mouth is full of cotton and cobwebs. “Ohno…san. Hey.”
“Ninomiya-sensei, do you remember me?”
Nino’s eyes pan to the one with the same brown uniform Jun’s wearing. It takes him a second, but he recognizes him even without the blond hair. “Fuma-kun? What are you doing here?”
The soldier beside Ohno slings his harm around Fuma. “Better in camos than on the streets. Let’s just say that he’s had a change of heart.”
“Wow, it’s like a mini-reunion,” Nino says, the ruddy, handsome face instantly familiar. Sho smiles and explains that he’s taken Fuma under his wing. “If you’d like, sensei, you can ask him to do errands for you.”
“You can rely on me, Ninomiya-sensei!” Fuma looks like a different person, his smile bright and eager to please. Nino tries not to stare at Ohno.
“I’ll make good on that, Fuma-kun.”
Jun almost starts to speak, but Ohno looks at him calmly, like everything is in order. “I-this way to our transport, sir.” It may be the first time Nino's ever heard a tongue-tied Jun.
On the drive back to the camp, all Nino could think about is how Aiba would never let him hear the end of it. The world is so vast and there are hundreds of developmental settlements in different continents-yet why has Ohno Satoshi ended in the same camp as where he is? What were the odds?
More importantly, why is Ohno Satoshi so damn sexy in his blasted uniform? Nino feels like he's in an elaborate prank. A prank involving an Ohno Satoshi with a commanding voice, in a uniform that's stuff of fetish dreams. Not that it's Nino's particular fetish.
Still. The visual isn't kind to his heart.
*
They settle nicely into the camp, their barracks a common but comfortable one. All Ohno wants to do is get rid of his uniform in this infernal heat, but he can’t do that, not really. He settles for tying the top half of it on his waist, his v-neck shirt giving him some sort of release.
Sho grins and does his uniform the same way. “Can we just wear them like this all the time and get rid of the berets too? I’ve never looked good in them. And now we have to wear those fancy blue ones.”
“Matsumoto really looks good in his blue beret, don’t you think?” Toma says in the bunk next to Sho’s.
Okada laughs. “Stop it, you’re making Bambi blush.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sho says, throwing his pillow at Okada, who blocks expertly despite the force of it.
“I’m so hungry,” Yamashita moans to no one in particular.
Ohno ignores the hubbub and crashes onto his bed. His thoughts are full of Nino. He had been prepared to see him, having had the shock of his life seeing his name on the camp resident manifesto. But seeing him again in real-life is a different thing. Ohno can’t erase the look of surprise in Nino’s now slightly tanned face. One thing is for sure-this Cyprus stint will be the opposite of the uneventful “break” Colonel Matsuoka intended it as for Team Alpha Sakura. At least, not for its Captain.
They start the week by debriefing and meeting the local team, with the efficient First Lieutenant Matsumoto making everything easy. Settling in goes smoothly as possible, with his team taking up their new responsibilities with ease and vigor. Compared to their the last mission-a draining stint of reconnaissance with daily skirmishes left and right towards the end-this one is like a vacation. They just have to keep the camp orderly and safe while training the stationed troops for more tactical missions. Everyone in a uniform except Matsumoto doesn’t know the true nature of Ohno’s unit, have understandably never seen them in the Japan headquarters, but they easily accept their guidance. While Ohno isn’t the type to lead big numbers, it’s where his team shines. Thanks to the their boyish affability, the unit soon becomes kind of the “big brother” figures in the camp, an image Ohno has no problems with.
He sees Nino sporadically, from a distance during meal times, and whenever he chances on Nino entering or exiting from Medicube. They always acknowledge each other, not overly-friendly but not curt either. Despite how things had ended for them, Nino seems to harbor no resentment for Ohno, not a shred of bitterness. He still wants to explain everything to Nino, but it seems like it will be useless. If Nino has moved on, then he should be decent enough to respect that. Plus, if he rejected his calls, he must have been that easy to get over.
One day after morning drills, a willowy nurse who introduces himself as Aiba Masaki jogs up to him. “Ohno-san…sir,” he greets him, breathless.
Ohno chuckles. “Ohno is fine.”
“Ohno-kun then,” Aiba says, smiling up to his eyes. “You’re needed at Medicube.”
“Needed?”
“Ninomiya-sensei wants to talk to you about…vaccinations. He’s in his office. When you enter, just turn right twice and you’re there. Okay?” He jogs away without Ohno being able to ask another question.
“-okay.” Ohno’s a little confused, but he follows Aiba’s orders. Nino looks like he’s about to start a meal on his desk when he reaches him.
“You wanted to talk about vaccinations?” Ohno asks him, but already knowing in that instant that he didn’t.
Nino sighs. “Please excuse Aiba-san. He’s not very subtle.”
Ohno furrows his brows. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll leave right away.”
“Sit down, soldier. You might as well have some lunch with me."
"Oh."
"Aiba-san cooks the meanest mabo tofu on the planet, which is the only benefit I get from agreeing to be friends with him. Sit.”
Ohno does as he’s told. Nino gives him a bowl and a pair of wooden chopsticks. He has no choice but to dig in-in fairness to Aiba, the tofu is wonderfully nuanced and just has the right kick of spicy. Ohno would have enjoyed it better if he wasn’t fidgeting in his seat the whole time, wondering what to say Nino. For the most part, Nino looks satisfied with just eating in silence. This close, he can see how tanned Nino has gotten, how much more vital he seems. Camp life must agree with him, even if it feels like it would be at odds with his personality.
“Did you bring any games?” Ohno blurts out.
Nino looks up at him mid-chew. “Will you report me to J if I did?”
“J?”
“First Lieutenant Matsumoto,” Nino says. In a weird spike of jealousy, Ohno wonders how they have become so close. Suddenly he doesn’t feel so hungry. “And yes, just one. The smallest one. I don’t play it while I’m on duty.”
“Oh.”
“So you’re not a cop after all,” Nino says, casually making conversation. Nothing in his face betrays it as an accusation-and that unsettles Ohno even more. The guilt rushes all over him again like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head.
“I’m not,” he agrees.
“You don’t shovel.”
“No,” Ohno sighs. “Nino, about that night-”
“No, let’s not.” Nino puts his chopsticks down. “I mean, I think we both knew that it was going to pan out that way, eventually.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well that makes you horribly naïve. If anything, you were in the position to make things a little less…abrupt. But that’s all in the past now, Ohno-san. Let’s just work well together, shall we?” Nino’s chair scrapes against the linoleum. He leaves no room for Ohno to say anything else on the matter as he starts to clear out the bowls.
“I’ll help you wash up,” he offers lamely.
Nino doesn’t even turn to him as he shakes his head. “I know you’re busy, Captain.”
He’s been in the military for so long; Ohno knows a dismissal when he hears one. He thanks Nino for the meal and walks back to barracks, wondering what the hell just happened. But he barely has time to contemplate what else he could have said-who else but Matsumoto accosts him with an impressive yet over-long report on Nicosia’s terrain.
The days pass by in a flurry of productivity. He takes to the weather, appreciating the Mediterranean sun and the nearby sea. His day-offs are spent at the coast, talking to the locals and lying in the sun. The UN troops are progressing nicely with their tactical training-Okada has been running them ragged with sessions on Kali and Jeete Kune Do, while Toma and Yamashita lead them through simulations of different emergency simulations both in peacetime and combat environments.
Sho and Jun, both elite graduates of the same military school, make a terrifyingly thorough team as they execute detailed theoretical classes on everything from special inter-lingual reconnaissance to para-jumping-Ohno tries his utmost best not to fall asleep in the front row. They look cute completing each other’s sentences like the nerds that they are, Ohno thinks, although he knows that Sho will have his head on a plate if he even said that thought out loud.
Everything is running smoothly. Everything except his feelings for Nino, his crippling attraction to him with no release at sight, all topped off by his mounting guilt. He steers clear of Medicube as often as possible and goes about his duties.
*
>> Part 3
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ohno/Nino, Sho/Jun
Word count: 26,634
Summary: Nino is a talented young surgeon who is at a crossroads in his medical career. Ohno is the fearless Captain of Japan’s elite Special Forces Group. Their paths cross with a blaze in Japan, but things do not work out. Months later, they are surprised to find each other in the same UN outpost at Cyprus, both on missions of their own.
Part 1
It’s Nino’s last interview today, and he’s nervous as hell. After two failed applications-the first one because he’d been too young, and the second one because his research subject overlapped with another published study-he wants to make sure that his third attempt goes as planned. If Higashiyama-sensei is to be believed, this time around, he’s already got it in the bag. All he needs to do is to ace the final panel interview and he can finally be a professor.
Safe to say, it’s an extra stressful time, and when he’s not on duty, his nose is on books and medical journals. The only thing he’s looking forward to is seeing Ohno again, soon, even if he hasn’t been calling him at all. After the sudden sleepover on their first date-if that could even be considered a date-they saw each other again after a couple of days or so. They watched a movie and ate some cheap tsukemen at Shinjuku, where they had to wait in a line. The broth was creamy and rich, yes, but the best part about it was that he found out that he really enjoys Ohno’s company, the way he goes along with everything. He’s a little offbeat, a little out-of-sorts, but attentive in his own way. Nino was delighted that he wasn’t refused when he tentatively reached out for Ohno’s hand under the table. He won’t meet Nino’s eyes, but he didn’t shake him off either. They went their separate ways that night, with only a chaste kiss before they went on different train tracks.
Despite Ohno’s silent bravado and flirty overtures, Nino somehow sensed that it was better to take it slow. The butterflies didn’t lessen. In truth, every time they saw each other after that, Nino had only fallen for him harder, in the easiest way possible. They just fit, somehow.
On their most recent supposed-to-be date, they were planning to go for some drinks after Nino’s shift, with Ohno meeting up with him at the hospital. Nino was already newly showered and dressed up when Ohno called him. His voice was grave and apologetic, saying that he couldn’t make it for drinks. It sounded windy on Ohno’s end of the call. “Where are you?” Nino asked.
Somehow, minutes later, Nino had found himself on the rooftop of the hospital. Standing there was Ohno, in casual clothes but with a somber face. Nino wanted to laugh, but with a start, he realized that Ohno looked a bit too serious. “What are you doing here?”
Ohno took a step towards him. “I need to go. But you have to promise me that we’ll reschedule. There’s something I want to do with you, if you’ll let me.”
Nino heard the noise before it arrived. A black helicopter landed on the roof, meters away from where they stood. Standing there, his tufts of hair billowing in the wind, Nino wondered what kind of secrets someone with such an innocent face could keep. He realized that as much as his attraction to him was a very real thing, it also stood that he really didn’t know much about Ohno yet.
“What kind of cop gets fetched in a helicopter?”
“Nino.” Ohno reached out for his hand. “I’m not a bad person, I promise. But I can’t talk about it.”
“You have to go,” Nino said, the rumble of the engine making their conversation even more strained.
“You haven’t promised me that we’ll reschedule.”
A man in an all-black, military-looking outfit stepped out of the helicopter and stood in attention towards where they were. His hand went up in a salute. Nino stared at him, and then back to Ohno. “You’re not in a position to impose right now, really.”
Ohno squeezed his hand. “I’m not. But I want to see more of you, if you’d let me.”
“Don’t be dramatic. Just call me,” he found himself saying. For a second, Nino thought Ohno would hug him, but he didn’t. Instead, he squeezed his hand one last time, then jogged away. Watching him enter the helicopter and seeing it fly away felt like a dream. Nino had stood there for a long time, desire and confusion thrumming unevenly through him. He watched the black shape disappear into the dark horizon.
It has been two weeks, and Ohno still hasn’t called him. Nino doesn’t want to dwell on it, and instead looks forward to when he’ll call next-soon, probably. Even though he still doesn’t know a lot about him, Nino thinks that he can’t be the kind of person who will just disappear. He lets the the other tangent-the one where Ohno might have been hurt, doing what he does, whatever it is-slip at the back of his mind. He doesn’t need to worry about him, not right now. That, and when he thinks about it, he wouldn’t know where to go to find out how he’s been in the first place. All of it makes Nino feel unhinged, something Nino is unfamiliar with. They haven’t even dated for long, Nino thinks. Why should I feel this way? He shakes it off and focuses on his shift.
Late in the day, Aiba tells him that Higashiyama-sensei has called him. The moment he enters his senior’s room, he knows something is wrong. Higashiyama-sensei’s jaw are tensed, the usual playful glint in his eyes are absent. Nino feels like he’s hearing everything through a gauze as Higashiyama-sensei explains that even though he’s a very excellent contender and that his research work was very thorough, he felt that Nino was still “unripe for the position”.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing so much that the only thing he could ask to Higashiyama-sensei was “Who got it instead?”
The answer doesn’t please him, and he storms out of there, not caring that he might have been out of line to someone he respected otherwise. His breathing becomes rapid. He reaches the on-call room which is mercifully empty-the sound that the metal bedpost makes when he kicks it is shrill. He runs through all the things he could have done better, parts of the research paper that he could have fine-tuned. While taking a shower, he thinks about it over and over again, even if he knows deep inside that after all those months, his efforts really had no bearing with the results.
He had thought that Higashiyama-sensei would be partial and fair. How could he have chosen Tegoshi over him? Tegoshi, who still botched simple procedures? Whose hands are unskilled and steady?
Simple, Nino thinks. Tegoshi was born into the right family, a family that donated a new surgical wing for the hospital last year. Even if Nino had second-second!-highest marks from his Todai batch, even if he had been the best resident, even if many of his other seniors acknowledge his innate talent for surgery, his “magical hands”-he would never be good enough. True, he has become an elite, a doctor at The University of Tokyo Hospital, he is also making more money than he could ever have imagined in his childhood. But he had gotten there through hard work, through scholarships, through his single mother working multiple part-time jobs. Nino, through those years, dreamt of pursuing higher research, of improving lives, of doing more. Maybe that’s why he loves video games too-he loves having control over a situation, of having the ability to save the day.
Has he really been so naïve? Until that moment, Nino believed that everything can be won over by skill and merit.
The taxi ride home is an unusual expense for him, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to have a cold can of beer and boot up one console after another. He has been working so hard all these years, for nothing, seemingly, and right now, he just wants to be numb.
Is it relief? Or desperation? Nino tries to name the feeling as the elevator doors ping open and he sees Ohno getting to his feet, a couple of plastic bags strewn around him. It looks like he had been waiting in front of his door for quite some time. He smiles as he shoves his hands shyly in his jeans, short bangs flopping to his face. Against the dim, warm lighting of the corridor, Nino finds him irreverently handsome. He walks slowly toward him, stopping only when his foot is in between Ohno’s feet, hands on his slim hips.
“Oh-chan. I had a horrible day.”
“Did you,” Ohno murmurs, eyes kind and observing, his breath warm.
“Yup, the worst.” Nino closes his eyes and kisses him, keys forgotten for the moment.
*
It’s 3 in the morning, and Ohno is in a military plane headed for Kabul, again. It hasn’t been a month since their last mission in Afghanistan, but this one is more crucial, if their terse briefing from the normally chummy Colonel Matsuoka is any indication. Two high-level UN officials active in the Gandamak region have been kidnapped by the Taliban, and it’s their mission to retrieve them safely. Team Alpha Sakura, the top-secret elite unit of Japan Self-Defense Forces, have always been the one tapped for sensitive and usually dangerous missions that the Japan military can’t put their name behind.
He tamps down a huge desire to yawn-he doesn’t want his team to think he’s not focused, even though he’s pretty sure that they know him well enough. Five years of being together and relying on each otheir to save lives and save each other’s lives tend to make that easier. They’re all strapped in securely now, all geared up in their nameless black Kevlar combat uniforms, waiting for the right time.
The pilot talks over the radio. “Five minutes until drop-off point.”
Ohno closes his eyes and takes a huge breath. Adrenaline surges through his veins, giving him a charged kind of stillness. After hundreds of missions, it never gets old. When he opens his eyes, his team are all sitting up straight, awaiting his orders as Captain of Team Alpha Sakura.
“Dacchi. Rockstar. You will enter from the southeast. Wait for my signal before you advance into the hostage area.”
“Yes, sir!” The two across from him reply in unison.
He turns towards the two on his left. “Pi-chan. Bambi. You’re going with me. Bambi, make sure we don’t lose track of their heat stamps. We don’t want to walk into a trap.”
“Affirmative, Leader,” Sho says. Ohno nods at all of them.
“One minute.”
They all remove their cross-body seatbelts and crawl into position by the door. It’s just another day at work for them. When the hatch opens, they all take turns jumping and pulling on their harnesses, activating their parachutes that only appear as blobs against the cloudy night sky. The air rushes around Ohno’s ears. He preps himself for a safe landing.
After making sure that everyone is good to go, Ohno silently gives everyone the go signal. From there, everything progresses quickly. Their instincts and training take over as they enter the compound, immediately encountering resistance and gunshots. The enemy knew that there will eventually be a rescue effort for the two UN officials, and they’ve outfitted the perimeter with correspondingly tight security. Ohno signals for the other half of Team Alpha Sakura to give them cover. With a rioutous volley of close-range gunfire, they advance carefully to where Sho leads them, the heat stamps on his detector leading their way.
“Leader, second door to the left.” Ohno nods.
“Rockstar and Dacchi, cover Bambi,” he says over the radio. A bullet whizzes by his waist. He plants himself flatter against the wall. “Bambi, make sure we can make a dash for it. Pi-chan and I will secure the targets.”
“Yes sir!” Ohno signals to Yamashita. Sho stands to the side as Ohno and Yamashita use their shoulders to barge through the locked door. They enter the room back to back, quickly knocking out the four people with guns via quickly executed shots. A well-built henchman lurches for Ohno from behind. Ohno crouches down and uses his attacker’s weight to topple him forward. He punches him across the jaw, his knuckles gnashing through flesh. Twice, thrice.
Ohno hears Yamashita grunt loudly. For the millisecond it takes to glance at his teammate in a choke hold, Ohno’s own attacker knocks out his shin and lurches up, grazing his leg with a knife. He quickly regains his composure and uses his position to knee his attacker in the groin, wresting the knife away from him, slashing him enough to injure.
“Pi-chan, you okay?” Yamashita nods as he claps the dust away from his hands. Relieved, Ohno turns his sight to the two UN officials tied at the end of the room, looking terrified but unharmed. They untie them and show their badges, assuring them that they are not the enemy. The escape is harrowing, their exit accompanied by a hail of bullets, but they safely reach the rendezvous point behind the small hill thanks to Sho’s deft tactics.
Ohno takes a deep breath only when they are in mid-air, the hostages and his team safe and strapped in. Across him, Sho shoots him a look, his eyes trailing down to Ohno’s leg. The pain isn’t registering with him yet, but he can feel the wetness seeping through his pants. He shakes his head at Sho, giving him a small smile. Sho knows not press the issue-at least, not until they land. Ohno closes his eyes, the adrenaline slowing down, the absurdity of it all making him a bit incredulous, as always. Just weeks ago, he said goodbye on a roof to Nino. And now, he’s on his way back to Japan, with a fresh, shallow knife wound on his leg, and lots of laundry and cleaning up to do at home. It’s an unusual life, but Ohno doesn't hate it. There is payback in it that it isn't immediately apparent, but feels true to him. He watches the relief on the hostages faces in silence.
After Sho manhandles him to the clinic right after they land and gets his wound treated, Ohno heads home. It's always when he's in his own space that he feels all his injuries. Thank god for the pills; the pills always help. He crashes to his bed, blacking out for the better part of the day. When he wakes up, it’s already night time. He is single-minded about what he wants to do, and more importantly, who he wants to see. Just thinking about it already makes him feel better.
The one-hour wait at Nino’s door is nothing, not when Nino vaguely tells him he has had a bad day and proceeds to give him a knee-melting kiss. Ohno feels all his stress float away from his skin, leaving only Nino-the smell of him, the shape of his back against Ohno’s exploring hands, all that Ohno’s been craving since he’s been away.
“Shouldn’t we take this inside?” Ohno whispers. Nino breaks away from him as a response, digging through his pocket for his key. After they enter and get their shoes off, Ohno kisses him again, walking him backwards to the sofa.
“Bad day too?” Nino murmurs.
“Forgot about all that once you kissed me.”
Nino laughs, curling his arms around him, trusting and pliant, and allows himself to be gently nudged down. They are shuffling themselves into a comfortable position when Nino’s leg hits his injury. Ohno cries out before he can stop himself.
“Sorry!” Nino pries himself up on his elbows, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
Ohno sits up with a wince. “No, it’s okay.”
“What happened to your leg?”
“It’s just a small scratch. Don’t worry about it. ”
Ohno could tell through Nino’s frown that he wants to ask more, if not take a look at it. After a tense moment, Nino gets up and instead walks to the kitchen. Ohno feels bad as he watches Nino’s digging through his refrigerator. There’s really nothing to say. When Nino returns with a couple of beer cans, he frowns at him.
“Don’t think you can get away with everything just by smiling.”
Ohno thumbs his beer can open. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
Nino sighs and takes a long swig from his Kirin. “If only you weren’t cute.”
They spend the night drinking beer and watching a documentary about sharks with the volume down. Nino mentions failing his interview, which he brushes aside when Ohno asks about it further. Ohno discovers that there are walls around Nino that will take some time to get around. His instinct is to bulldoze through them, like he does everything in his life, but something about Nino's eyes tell him that no, not this time. With Nino, he feels like he could be patient, in any way Nino needs him to be. He settles for grabbing Nino’s hand. Nino reciprocates by curling into him. They’re terribly comfortable and a little tipsy when Ohno remembers what he wanted to do.
“Wait.”
Nino grumbles when he has to untangle himself from Ohno, who rummages through his bag.
“I want to draw you,” Ohno says, waving his small sketchpad and box of charcoal. “You promised me.”
Nino stares at him. “I made no such promise.”
Ohno settles on the floor and lays out his stuff on the coffee table. “I said it on the helipad, that I wanted to do it, and you told me not to be dramatic and just call you.”
“You didn't say anything of that sort, Oh-chan. I’m not going to be sitting here naked while you draw me.”
Ohno looks up at him. “I never said I wanted to draw you naked.”
Nino’s cheeks grow red, to Ohno’s sudden delight. “Whatever. No sketching or drawing of any of my body parts!” He nimbly reaches for Ohno’s sketch pad and shuffles through his work.
“Is this your hobby?” Nino asks, voice softer than he intends. Ohno nods.
“You’re kind of good.”
“Does that mean-”
“Nope, you can’t sketch me. I mean, I wouldn’t even be able to sit still for you.” He stands up and gets another round of beer for them.
Nino returns to Ohno doodling idly anyway. He peers at his scribbles of monkeys with guns, sighing at him. “You’re so weird.”
Soon, Nino is dozing off on the couch. Ohno drapes a blanket over him, kneeling beside him. It’s strange yet satisfying to find out that you have a type, Ohno thinks. His just happens to be a cute, if sometimes sullen surgeon who lives like a critter at home. He both wants to make out with him all the time, and just look at him in silence, like this. A little pocket of peace. Ohno touches his mole, his favorite detail about Nino.
The next time they meet, Nino chides him for leaving without saying a word. The family restaurant is buzzing with people brunching together, but Ohno can only hear Nino, now nibbling on a slice of hotcake. The way he had said it was a joke, but the way Nino darts his eyes to him then back to his plate is furtive, like he had just said something out of line and doesn’t want any attention called to it.
“I can stay all day today,” he says, making sure to sound as soothing as possible. He had planned as much after picking a tired Nino up from his graveyard shift. They eat their brunch in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. Nino’s features are almost muted by the sunlight streaming from the window.
On the way back to Nino’s apartment, Nino stops in his tracks.
“Oh-chan, if you draw me, what would that mean?”
Ohno furrows his brows. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“What was the point, then? Why did you ask me? For fun?”
He wonders if it’s a trick question, but Nino’s expression doesn’t yield any clues. He decides to go for honesty. “I just really like your face.”
“What?”
“I like your face. I want to draw all the details,” he says, running a hand through his hair, suddenly shy. “I like it.”
Nino frowns. “You like it that much?”
He reaches out for Nino’s mole with his thumb, hearing how his breath hitches. “Yes.”
“You’re pretty shallow,” Nino says, slipping his hand in his.
“Well, I like the rest of you too, if that’s what you want to hear.” Nino doesn’t acknowledge him and instead walks on, dragging him in a leisurely pace. When they reach the apartment, Nino doesn’t say anything and heads straight for his room. Ohno settles on the couch and turns on the tv, switching on to another documentary. For some reason, watching nature documentaries make him switch to a lazy calm that he likes. He waits for Nino so they can snuggle in the couch together, just like they did the other night. That had felt nice.
Nothing could have prepared him from Nino stepping out of his room in just his sweatpants. He puts Ohno’s art materials on the table, his face completely casual, ignoring Ohno as he passes by him. Nino’s torso is pale and lean, and Ohno immediately wants to touch him, all of him. Instead, he watches him putting on some coffee, watches him going around the his unit to open all the curtains. The band of his underwear is blue and orange, making way to slim, tapered hips. Ohno could watch the way the afternoon sun bounces off his angles, his feet light against the dark grain of the wood for hours.
The smell of arabica fills Ohno’s nose. Nino sets a steaming cup on the table, and sits on the one-seater across Ohno, curling his legs underneath him. He sips his coffee a few times before he meets Ohno’s eyes.
“I’m thin, I don’t have time to work out,” he says. “Any break I get is for gaming.”
The coffee is surprisingly strong. “I figured as much.”
“Oh-chan, I need you to understand something about me.”
He’s never really met someone like Nino, so he takes it as a positive, that Nino is branching out for him. The air is still in between them. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t reject people a lot,” he says, thick fingers wrapping around his cup. “But not everyone gets that close. You’re practically still a stranger to me, you know?”
Ohno winces at that. “Nino, if this is about what I do-”
“It is, but I understand you. I just want you to know that I don’t chase after something that leaves.” He sets down his cup. “It’s like I’m an automatic door.”
“Automatic door?”
Nino laughs softly. “Well, it’s a weak analogy. But before anything happens with us, I just need that to be on the table.”
He can see that Nino is serious-open, even. This is a Nino that he doesn’t know well yet, a Nino that is intriguing far beyond the small, physical details that Ohno had latched on to at first. This Nino, sitting across him is offering him something that Ohno’s only beginning to consider now as a possibility. He finds that there is nothing to think about, that he wants whatever it is that Nino offers. A terms of surrender. Ohno nods, unable to form words in the intensity of Nino’s gaze. He follows the flow of the moment and grabs the sketchpad and a pencil.
“My face first?”
Ohno swallows. “Sure.”
Nino shifts into a more comfortable position. “You can have the rest of me too. Just let me have my coffee first,” he says, as if it wasn’t an earth-shattering thing and instead something simple and given.
His hands moves on their own, furious and without much effort. Nino isn’t skin and bones, but there is delicacy there, in the way each breath makes his belly rise and fall. His coffee goes untouched. Nino looks out the window, content to be sitting there, with only the sound of lead scratching against paper peppering the silence. Every once in a while, he’ll meet Ohno’s eyes, and Ohno gets the odd feeling that it’s actually him being watched, being seen, being sketched. He wonders what lines Nino uses in his head. Blunt, rough strokes? Thin whisps that almost don’t register? He wonders if it’s a nice view.
When he finishes, he realizes that his own lines are light, that Nino’s face done in his hand is a ghost. His hand is still trembling slightly. He wants Nino.
“It’s not my best work.”
Nino doesn’t say anything when Ohno shows him the rough sketch. Instead, he stands up and walks over to Ohno. He leans over and kisses Ohno on the lips softly, grabbing the sketchpad and setting it aside on the couch. They could kiss forever, he would be fine with it, Ohno thinks. At least, until Nino reaches down and squeezes over his pants. He moans into Nino’s mouth, wanting many things at once, and all of them involving having Nino closer.
When Nino kneels, it takes awhile for Ohno’s brain to catch up. The visual is too much. Nino makes quick work of his belt and zipper, tugging his jeans down impatiently. Ohno raises his hips and removes his pants, with Nino taking over as soon as he’s only in his boxer briefs. His hands stream up and down his thighs, avoiding his injury, a tickly sensation sparking on his skin. Nino’s kisses and mouths his half-hard cock through the cotton fabric in teasing bursts of warmth, and Ohno is about to lose it.
“Get me there,” he says without thinking. Ohno is already in the next moment, is in a furious, whited-out fog where only Nino's mouth exists. He finds his hand grabbing a fistful of Nino’s hair.
Nino’s eyes shoot up at him, his expression not exactly surprised-but there is wonder there, a hint of intent. Ohno realizes that he’s grabbing on to Nino’s hair too tightly. He lets go as if scalded, heart racing fast, mind scrambling to get back to the present.
“Sorry,” he finds himself saying.
“Hey.” Nino kisses him on his thigh. “Don't be. Okay?”
Ohno nods. Nino pulls down on his underwear, enough to set him free. "You could have me any way you want.”
“Ah,” Ohno mutters, shocked as Nino licks a strip along the underside of his hardening cock, his hands digging into the couch.
“Go for it,” Nino says, eyes still on Ohno. “And say it again. I’ll do it.” It’s not a threat, it’s a gift. A gift that no one’s been able to give him, because he’s never really asked anyone. Ohno, through the haze of Nino jerking him off with his hand, pace erratic but unhurried, recognizes the expression in his eyes. Nino takes him in his mouth, the slick heat almost too much for Ohno already. How could Nino have known? How could Nino just say it like that?
He is unprepared, he doesn't have an action plan in mind. The terrain is foreign, there are no maps. It's a brutal ambush. Nino changes his angle, sucks softly on his head.
“Get me there,” he says, fingers grabbing on to disheveled tufts of black hair. Nino takes him deeper. “Fit all of my cock in your mouth,” he says, the words a thrill on his tongue. He almost comes from Nino moaning around him. He takes all of Ohno in, pausing to get used to his size. Ohno feels a rush at seeing Nino like this, on the floor, at his mercy-he feels his body tensing up, knowing that he won’t last for much longer. He shoves his cock a little deeper, testing Nino.
Nino coughs lightly around him but doesn’t budge. He looks up at him like he’s the one issuing a challenge-and that’s all Ohno needs. His fingers tighten around Nino’s hair as he thrusts into Nino, faster and shallower, with Nino taking all of it. Ohno comes with a silent, labored gasp. Nino has gotten him there and swallows all of evidence of it.
He feels amazing, but he’s also burdened by a wash of affection so intense that he grabs Nino up to him, framing his face and kissing the tip of his nose.
“You did it.”
Nino laughs. “It’s just a blowjob, Oh-chan.”
Ohno thinks it’s the biggest understatement of the year. Nino straightens up, and Ohno sees his sweatpants tenting. Ohno sits up, removing his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Nino asks.
“Returning the favor. Also it’s hot.”
He drags Nino to stand in between his legs, hands tearing his sweatpants down. No need for ceremony, he thinks. He noses at Nino’s hard-on, liking what he smells. There is already pre-come on the tip of his cock, and he licks it, lapping the tip of his tongue along the slit.
“Oh-chan, don't drag this on,” Nino says. Ohno doesn’t say more and takes Nino’s cock in his mouth without preamble, bobbing his face relentlessly. He sets a fast pace, partly because he knows that Nino’s close, but mostly because he’s always wanted to suck Nino’s cock since he saw him-at least, that’s what he thinks now, because he could do this all day. He learns that he likes being on the giving end too. Nino’s little whimpers spur him on, and right when he knows Nino is about to come, he comes up for air.
“What do you think you're doing?”
“How long have you wanted this?”
“Not as…long you have,” Nino stammers, as Ohno mouths his crown lightly, hand reaching out for his balls. Nino keens into his palm.
“Wrong answer, Ninomiya-sensei”
“Fuck you,” Nino says, his hand about to grab his own cock, and Ohno slaps it away, intent as he takes Nino back in and finishing him off. Unlike Ohno, Nino screams out as Ohno hollows his cheeks over and over. He’s so beautiful like this, Ohno thinks. He sets a faster pace, his hand helping things along. Nino pushes him away in warning, but he stays for it, finishing every last drop.
Spent, Nino crashes beside Ohno on the couch. Ohno reaches out or his hands, and they stay there, quiet and linked. They take a shower together later, the spray refreshing on Ohno’s back as he takes a moment to hold Nino against him, his chin tucked on his shoulder. Nino laughs and swats him away. “You’ll fall asleep here if I gave you the chance.”
Ohno doesn’t protest when Nino drags him to bed after that. It’s barely nighttime, but Nino closes all the curtains and slips underneath the sheets with him. They lie there, sleepy and facing each other. Ohno doesn’t remember being this comfortable with anyone, ever. It feels like something has been wrenched open inside of him, and everything is flowing out in a rivulet. They don't have to say anything. Ohno feels like he can be himself, like he doesn't have to defend this intensity, this joy of being skin on skin and not feeling like he could lose it immediately. Nino smiles at him, eyes soft for once.
“You’re like my favorite pair of socks” is what he comes up with. Nino laughs-Ohno is slowly becoming addicted to its surprisingly innocent lilt-and kisses him squarely on the lips.
Nino pokes him on the side. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Ohno grins. “Sleep. I know you’re tired.”
For once, Nino doesn’t resist and falls asleep easily. It takes awhile for Ohno, but he follows suit. When his phone rings a couple of hours later, he jolts awake with a sick feeling. After several straight high-risk missions, the Major General had decided to assign them to “relaxed duties” abroad a couple of months down the road. Until then, they were supposed to have no scheduled or emergency deployments, only additional tactical training for their next long stint.
“Colonel Matsuoka,” he answers, his own voice sounding bleary to him. He sits up in bed, careful not to disturb Nino as he listens to his superior.
It’s one of those emergency, top-secret missions where he’s not to talk to anyone or be seen even before he reaches headquarters for a more detailed brief. Nino looks so peaceful all curled up and snug under the duvet. Ohno knows that he needs to leave as soon as possible, but agonizes over the fact that even if he does wake up Nino to tell him that he’s leaving, he won’t be able to tell him why.
Maybe there’s no need to. He will be gone for a week, worst case scenario. Nino would understand, right? Ohno kisses him on his forehead, leaving with his heart torn and already missing Nino.
*
It’s been a couple of months, and even though Nino still brings his best efforts to work, he still can’t shake off the feeling that he’s not living up to his potential, that everything feels pointless. He was hurt by the whole Ohno episode-he has an ugly track record with people not sticking around, after all-but it wasn’t new to him. People leave, don’t they? For Nino, it’s not a singular gloomy thought, it’s simply reality.
Ohno had tried to call him three-three!-weeks after he had left him without a word. Nino didn’t want any of it, didn’t want any of his excuses. His distance had felt like a rebuke, and Nino found it hard to understand something that he couldn't even ask about. He had methodically closed off all Ohno-related thoughts and called it a day. Aiba accuses him of being emotionally stunted, but Nino doesn’t want to suffer unneccessarily. In his head, Ohno was just a nice guy who may have wanted him, but not as much as he wanted Ohno. Sparks or not, there might as well be a gulf in between them.
What kind of person disappears after a day like that? Was it all momentary convenience? Nino wills himself to forget all the details that had made him believe in more, even for just a bit.
But his day-to-day life is a different thing. Nino’s always been someone who likes work, surprisingly, and he couldn’t bring himself to resign and just play games all day, like he had threatened Higashiyama-san in a childish tirade. He’s in a professional slump, and he knows it. He’s been trying to hide his dissastisfaction, but Aiba, perceptive as he is, keeps on asking him about it after giving up on the Ohno angle. Nino doesn’t budge about it either and says nothing. Eventually, Aiba seems to have understood that it was something Nino had to process by himself. At least, he thought so, until he spots a flyer wedged in his locker and Aiba goes, “it wasn’t me!”
Nino reads through the hospital memo. It’s a call from the management for anyone who would like to participate in a medical service project for a few months in Cyprus. They’re looking for a team leader and several volunteers to set up and test a new kind of mobile facility that some graduate students from Todai have designed. Nino could feel Aiba hovering as he reads through it.
“Cyprus sounds like a sandy place,” he says, eyes still flicking over the details, easily reading Aiba’s mind.
“Asami-chan and I already signed up. We passed our requirements and all!”
“What! Isn’t that too hasty? Why do you want to be away from Japan anyway?”
Aiba grabs the flyer from him. “Experience, kid, experience. It would alse be nice to get away from the bureaucracy here, don’t you think?”
Nino slumps down on one of the chairs. “What would you know about that? Everyone likes you.”
“Everyone except Asami-chan,” Aiba grins. Nino looks up at him, realization settling in. He rubs his face with a hand.
“You are the only person I know who would volunteer for a mission far away from home just to get a date,” Nino says, laughing through his exasperation.
Aiba crosses his arms, a challenging smile on his face. "Well, yeah."
“Aiba-shi, you've outdone yourself on this one.”
“See, this is where you think you know better than me, you always think so, right,” Aiba says, putting on a fresh shirt. “But you don’t!”
Nino snorts. “Okay.”
“No, seriously, hear me out. When you are faced with challenges, it also means that you’re faced with…what is it…more potential to grow. You can’t give up just because you got one door closed on your face. Or thrice, in your opinion. Thrice is just the beginning, Ninomi!”
“Two things. One, you definitely planted that flyer in my locker. Two, I don’t know if that’s your idea of inspiring me and rousing me to action, but you definitely failed.”
“You know I’m right.”
“You’re never right.”
Aiba shrugs and tucks the memo in Nino’s patient folder, slapping him on the shoulder as he leaves the room.
But after close to a decade of knowing and working with each other, it turns out that Aiba still knows Nino best. A month later, he finds himself waiting at the Nicosia International Airport, along with a team of twenty colleagues. Nino has never been much for travel, and even if he was, he wouldn’t have been partial to a Mediterranean island. Months ago, it would have been unthinkable that he himself would sign up to months of hot weather and the highly physical work of establishing a coastal medical unit. Even now as he’s standing on the most foreign soil he’s ever been, he wonders if it’s a smart decision.
Emotionally, he had known that staying in the same environment would have driven him to a depression that he’s not unfamiliar with. Nino has always been a motivated person at the core, but when it’s his values that are being compromised, it’s a different convesation. It’s the first time in his life that he feels like he can’t do his best, and that puts a gray pallor over everything he does. He needed a change, and Aiba knew it. That, and the compensation package definitely couldn't hurt.
The sun is high and bright, the air, dry, making Nino chug more water than he normally would. “Matsujun!” Aiba screams, his arm-no, body-waving to the specks of brown walking in the distance. For awhile, Nino experiences a dissonance, with Aiba’s elbow digging in his chest, frantic and overjoyed. “Nino it’s J, I’m telling you. It’s J!” Nino feels like he might be getting dizzy as the specks become a troop of Japanese officers in dark blue berets-and leading them, just as Aiba said, is Matsujun.
“Ninomiya-sensei, I’m glad to see you,” the stern-looking soldier says as he takes off his aviators a little too hammily. His eyes shift to Aiba, nodding to him. “And you too, Aiba…chan.”
“What are you doing here, of all places? And why does Nino get the formalities and I…get patronized?”
At this, the soldier gives up all manner of formality and cracks up, and Nino does too, still half in disbelief and half-relieved, because if there is a person in the world who can be relied on in an arid, subtropical town-or anywhere, really-it would be Matsumoto Jun. Even if he hasn’t seen him in almost a decade, and definitely not in a well filled-out brown camouflage uniform and short hair.
Aiba and Jun easily do their shake-hands-bump-into-chest half hug, which throws Nino right back to a decade ago. Even now, when Jun starts towards him and they hug breifly but warmly, Nino’s heart still does a skip. It’s a meaningless gesture, really, but when it comes from Jun, it comes with a wealth of unspoken sincerity. “You look really good, J,” Nino says to him, meaning it.
“You look like you need to be fed more,” Jun says, hand on his hip. Nino doesn’t miss the slight blush on his face.
“Well, you’re free to feed me some Turkish delights while I’m here then.”
Jun grins. “If you want. Anyway, I’m the one to help your team get settled at the camp.”
“Haven’t you become impressive, Matsujun,” Aiba jibes with obvious fondness.
“It’s First Lieutenant Matsumoto of the JSDF International Peace Cooperation Activities Training Unit here in Cyprus. But ‘sir’ will do for you, Aiba-chan.” Nino snorts. He really has missed that trademark Matsumoto Jun smirk, he really has.
“Over my dead body,” Aiba exclaims. “Have you forgetten that I beat you and Ninomi here in every single arm wrestling match back in the dorms? I'm obviously the physically superior human being among us three”
Jun crosses his arms. “Try me later.”
“Are you sure? But you hate losing, right?” Nino can’t believe his ears-it’s like college all over again. Nino has to pry them from their passionate exchange as the rest of the team gather around the rather handsome newcomer. The women are already shamelessly sizing him up.
Hasty introductions are done, and they all file into a humongous helicopter. It’s too noisy for decent conversation, so Nino makes do with exchanging rather tight-lipped smiles with Jun and trying not to be overpowered by an impending headache. It’s been such a long time since he has seen Jun. After a few years of pre-med, Jun decided to leave Todai and continue his studies abroad in a prestigious military school. He can look back at it fondly now, but at the time, it had been devastating for Nino. He remembers nights of skimming through Jun’s photos of his new friends and interests in New York, the flash of his laptop screen cold and blue against his eyes.
They might’ve been young, but Nino knew that whatever unnamed thing they had for those years was real. It was real to the point of them never ever talking to each other again, even if technology could have made it easy. To have Jun in front of him again, all grown-up and more self-assured than Nino’s ever seen or known him to be, is assuring, if a touch bittersweet. Aiba is seated at his side, and Nino bemoans Aiba's noisy thinking. He decidedly avoids his inquiring eyes.
They get to the base, a scrappy but clean compound with several bungalows, a rudimentary running track, and many fragrant trees. Nino could smell the brine of the sea. Jun tours all of them around, introducing all the other personnel that weren’t part of their airport welcome committee. First Lieutenant Matsumoto seems to be well-respected by his peers-officers of different nationalities all snap into attention in his presence and the female locals in the mess hall are understandably sweet to him. He briefly runs through what they’ve had a couple of seminars about in Tokyo already, explaining the UN’s role in Cyprus. Whenever anyone asks a question, he answers it with a friendly thoughtfulness, and Nino could see his team warming up to him.
Jun wraps up his tour, and Nino smiles at how impressive he’s become, but also how unchanged.
“The cubes will be airdropped by tomorrow, so you can start setting up by then. For now, feel free to settle in. I’ll see you guys at the mess hall later for dinner,” Jun says, depositing the bags he helped them with on the floor. The door has barely shut close on their room when Aiba flops on the bed and laughs.
“You can faint now, Ninomi. I won’t judge.”
“Please.”
“Him in that uniform though! Did you see him carrying our bags like they were nothing? And since when did he have biceps? If I were gay, he’d be so my type.”
Nino pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll kick you out.”
“The UN has decreed that we’ll be roommates. You can’t rebel against the UN, or against First Lieutenant Matsujun either.”
“He’ll have you thrown in jail for that, I have no doubt.”
“Once a Matsujun, always a Matsujun.”
He throws a duffel bag on top of Aiba’s belly, ignoring his whingeing. They settle in, organizing the sparse wardrobe and personal items they brought with them. The welcome dinner is a laidback affair, except for the part where he had to make a speech as the team leader. Nino thinks he gets through it fine, but it makes him wonder what the hell he’s doing there again.
The next day, the five Medicubes are lifted to the camp. With the help of the troops, the capsules all get interlinked, hooking it up to the waiting power and water sources. It takes them half the day, but when it’s done, it looks neat. Outside, they look like connected white shipping containers, emblazoned with subtle seals of the UN and Todai. Nino gets truly excited when he enters the Medicube. He has seen the mock-ups presented by the students in Tokyo, but nothing could could prepare him for the real thing. Inside, it almost looks like it could be a wing of their hospital, only more high-tech and patient-friendly. Everything is brand-new, and Nino feels a little bit gleeful when he enters the surgery module, admiring the thorough work that’s been done to make it a reality.
Asami floats to his side after checking the neat stacks of medications and equipment in the next-door module. “Nino, this is pretty cool, right? I’m not over-reacting?”
Nino grins at her nerdy freak-out. “Yeah, it’s cool.”
They waste no time setting a recognizable order they’re all used to, and Nino basks in the pleasant productivity of it. After a couple of days, all the stations and modules are in place, and they’re ready to open. Nino, while used to heading surgeries, is finding his way around leading an actual team on a day-to-day basis. It presents some challenges-some, he’s a little uncomfortable with, but he takes everything as a learning opportunity. In their first two weeks in camp, they set out to do vaccinations for kids from an orphanage, a task that’s one of their mission’s high priorities. There are some bumps, but it goes smoothly, the team adapting to the Medicube facilities quite adeptly. Time goes by in a flash, and Nino finds himself thriving in all the work.
One day, Jun ambushes him in the morning. “Think your team can lend you to me for an afternoon?”
“What’s happening?”
“You work too hard,” Jun says, perching casually on Nino’s desk. He crosses his legs, showing off unreally shiny boots in a dusty camp. Nino smirks.
“I’m not going to take that kind of remark from someone like you.”
“Fine.” Jun replies. “I came here to invite you out. I’m betting you haven’t seen much of Cyprus at all. How about some souvlakias at Kyriakos, then coffee somewhere nearby?”
“My, my, First Lieutenant, that sounds like you just wanting a lunch buddy. Feeling lonely?”
“I’ll pay, if that’s what’s putting you in a snit,” Jun says, looking at his nails. “I’m going to headquarters too. I think it would be nice for you to meet the medical operations head here. Also need to pick up my senior at the airport later.”
Nino can’t very well question Jun after an offer of free lunch. After delegating tasks and making sure everything is taken care of, they set off. In the car and outside of the camp, Jun is more relaxed and chatty. Nino realizes that they really haven’t had the chance to talk and catch up yet, with all the stress and bustle setting up the Medicube. They have lunch at the place Jun suggested, a simle backyard tavern that puts Nino at ease. The food is good, and Nino enjoys the juicy meat flavors in the burrito-like dish Jun recommended. Jun looks happy to be out of the camp as well. They talk about the past few years and how they’ve reached where they both are. In many ways, Jun really hasn’t changed-it comforts Nino.
After having a quick coffee stop, Jun introduces Nino to the medical operations head in Cyprus. They have a productive conversation about what Nino hopes to accomplish during his time in camp. When they finish, Jun drives to the airport. Nino notices his silence and the viselike grip on the steering wheel. Jun finds a parking slot, turning to Nino when he finishes.
“Nino, the people we’re picking up, one of them is kind of my senior. Like, really, really my senior.”
“Okay?” Nino says, unsure about what his reaction is supposed to be.
Jun breathes out as he fixes his already tidy fringe under his beret. “No funny business. I need a recommendation letter from this guy.”
“Recommending you for what?” He meets Jun eyes, seeing only honesty and nerves there. When he doesn’t answer, Nino speaks up. “J, it should be okay. Not that I know much, but from what I see, you run the camp very well. And everyone loves you. At least, the lunch ladies do. They can probably recite a litany of your good qualities, plus how perfect you hair always seems to be underneath that beret.”
This gets Jun rolling his eyes, but Nino could tell that it makes him a bit more relaxed. They wait at the arrival area, right in front of the exit. Nino doesn’t really know what to expect, so he slouches against the railings, getting a bit bored after ten minutes. At his side, Jun is standing ramrod straight. They hear before they see the plane approaching. Minutes later, they see it taxi down the runway as it skids to a smooth stop.
There are six people who walk through the gates. One is in the same uniform that Jun is wearing, and the other five in tough-looking uniforms that Nino’s only seen on television dramas. It’s all-black, subtle, but somehow menacing with combat boots. They also don’t wear the blue berets that the guys at camp have, theirs are black and have a pink emblem on it.
“It’s a cherry blossom tree,” Jun whispers. He snaps into attention as they come closer. “First Lieutenant Matsumoto reporting for duty.”
The guy leading the pack removes his shades. “At ease, soldier.”
Nino’s knees almost give in. He almost doesn’t recognize Ohno outside his jeans and worn-looking sweaters, doesn’t register his commanding voice as familiar-this is a different person altogether.
“Ninomiya-sensei,” he says, tipping his head to him. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He feels like his mouth is full of cotton and cobwebs. “Ohno…san. Hey.”
“Ninomiya-sensei, do you remember me?”
Nino’s eyes pan to the one with the same brown uniform Jun’s wearing. It takes him a second, but he recognizes him even without the blond hair. “Fuma-kun? What are you doing here?”
The soldier beside Ohno slings his harm around Fuma. “Better in camos than on the streets. Let’s just say that he’s had a change of heart.”
“Wow, it’s like a mini-reunion,” Nino says, the ruddy, handsome face instantly familiar. Sho smiles and explains that he’s taken Fuma under his wing. “If you’d like, sensei, you can ask him to do errands for you.”
“You can rely on me, Ninomiya-sensei!” Fuma looks like a different person, his smile bright and eager to please. Nino tries not to stare at Ohno.
“I’ll make good on that, Fuma-kun.”
Jun almost starts to speak, but Ohno looks at him calmly, like everything is in order. “I-this way to our transport, sir.” It may be the first time Nino's ever heard a tongue-tied Jun.
On the drive back to the camp, all Nino could think about is how Aiba would never let him hear the end of it. The world is so vast and there are hundreds of developmental settlements in different continents-yet why has Ohno Satoshi ended in the same camp as where he is? What were the odds?
More importantly, why is Ohno Satoshi so damn sexy in his blasted uniform? Nino feels like he's in an elaborate prank. A prank involving an Ohno Satoshi with a commanding voice, in a uniform that's stuff of fetish dreams. Not that it's Nino's particular fetish.
Still. The visual isn't kind to his heart.
*
They settle nicely into the camp, their barracks a common but comfortable one. All Ohno wants to do is get rid of his uniform in this infernal heat, but he can’t do that, not really. He settles for tying the top half of it on his waist, his v-neck shirt giving him some sort of release.
Sho grins and does his uniform the same way. “Can we just wear them like this all the time and get rid of the berets too? I’ve never looked good in them. And now we have to wear those fancy blue ones.”
“Matsumoto really looks good in his blue beret, don’t you think?” Toma says in the bunk next to Sho’s.
Okada laughs. “Stop it, you’re making Bambi blush.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sho says, throwing his pillow at Okada, who blocks expertly despite the force of it.
“I’m so hungry,” Yamashita moans to no one in particular.
Ohno ignores the hubbub and crashes onto his bed. His thoughts are full of Nino. He had been prepared to see him, having had the shock of his life seeing his name on the camp resident manifesto. But seeing him again in real-life is a different thing. Ohno can’t erase the look of surprise in Nino’s now slightly tanned face. One thing is for sure-this Cyprus stint will be the opposite of the uneventful “break” Colonel Matsuoka intended it as for Team Alpha Sakura. At least, not for its Captain.
They start the week by debriefing and meeting the local team, with the efficient First Lieutenant Matsumoto making everything easy. Settling in goes smoothly as possible, with his team taking up their new responsibilities with ease and vigor. Compared to their the last mission-a draining stint of reconnaissance with daily skirmishes left and right towards the end-this one is like a vacation. They just have to keep the camp orderly and safe while training the stationed troops for more tactical missions. Everyone in a uniform except Matsumoto doesn’t know the true nature of Ohno’s unit, have understandably never seen them in the Japan headquarters, but they easily accept their guidance. While Ohno isn’t the type to lead big numbers, it’s where his team shines. Thanks to the their boyish affability, the unit soon becomes kind of the “big brother” figures in the camp, an image Ohno has no problems with.
He sees Nino sporadically, from a distance during meal times, and whenever he chances on Nino entering or exiting from Medicube. They always acknowledge each other, not overly-friendly but not curt either. Despite how things had ended for them, Nino seems to harbor no resentment for Ohno, not a shred of bitterness. He still wants to explain everything to Nino, but it seems like it will be useless. If Nino has moved on, then he should be decent enough to respect that. Plus, if he rejected his calls, he must have been that easy to get over.
One day after morning drills, a willowy nurse who introduces himself as Aiba Masaki jogs up to him. “Ohno-san…sir,” he greets him, breathless.
Ohno chuckles. “Ohno is fine.”
“Ohno-kun then,” Aiba says, smiling up to his eyes. “You’re needed at Medicube.”
“Needed?”
“Ninomiya-sensei wants to talk to you about…vaccinations. He’s in his office. When you enter, just turn right twice and you’re there. Okay?” He jogs away without Ohno being able to ask another question.
“-okay.” Ohno’s a little confused, but he follows Aiba’s orders. Nino looks like he’s about to start a meal on his desk when he reaches him.
“You wanted to talk about vaccinations?” Ohno asks him, but already knowing in that instant that he didn’t.
Nino sighs. “Please excuse Aiba-san. He’s not very subtle.”
Ohno furrows his brows. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll leave right away.”
“Sit down, soldier. You might as well have some lunch with me."
"Oh."
"Aiba-san cooks the meanest mabo tofu on the planet, which is the only benefit I get from agreeing to be friends with him. Sit.”
Ohno does as he’s told. Nino gives him a bowl and a pair of wooden chopsticks. He has no choice but to dig in-in fairness to Aiba, the tofu is wonderfully nuanced and just has the right kick of spicy. Ohno would have enjoyed it better if he wasn’t fidgeting in his seat the whole time, wondering what to say Nino. For the most part, Nino looks satisfied with just eating in silence. This close, he can see how tanned Nino has gotten, how much more vital he seems. Camp life must agree with him, even if it feels like it would be at odds with his personality.
“Did you bring any games?” Ohno blurts out.
Nino looks up at him mid-chew. “Will you report me to J if I did?”
“J?”
“First Lieutenant Matsumoto,” Nino says. In a weird spike of jealousy, Ohno wonders how they have become so close. Suddenly he doesn’t feel so hungry. “And yes, just one. The smallest one. I don’t play it while I’m on duty.”
“Oh.”
“So you’re not a cop after all,” Nino says, casually making conversation. Nothing in his face betrays it as an accusation-and that unsettles Ohno even more. The guilt rushes all over him again like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head.
“I’m not,” he agrees.
“You don’t shovel.”
“No,” Ohno sighs. “Nino, about that night-”
“No, let’s not.” Nino puts his chopsticks down. “I mean, I think we both knew that it was going to pan out that way, eventually.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well that makes you horribly naïve. If anything, you were in the position to make things a little less…abrupt. But that’s all in the past now, Ohno-san. Let’s just work well together, shall we?” Nino’s chair scrapes against the linoleum. He leaves no room for Ohno to say anything else on the matter as he starts to clear out the bowls.
“I’ll help you wash up,” he offers lamely.
Nino doesn’t even turn to him as he shakes his head. “I know you’re busy, Captain.”
He’s been in the military for so long; Ohno knows a dismissal when he hears one. He thanks Nino for the meal and walks back to barracks, wondering what the hell just happened. But he barely has time to contemplate what else he could have said-who else but Matsumoto accosts him with an impressive yet over-long report on Nicosia’s terrain.
The days pass by in a flurry of productivity. He takes to the weather, appreciating the Mediterranean sun and the nearby sea. His day-offs are spent at the coast, talking to the locals and lying in the sun. The UN troops are progressing nicely with their tactical training-Okada has been running them ragged with sessions on Kali and Jeete Kune Do, while Toma and Yamashita lead them through simulations of different emergency simulations both in peacetime and combat environments.
Sho and Jun, both elite graduates of the same military school, make a terrifyingly thorough team as they execute detailed theoretical classes on everything from special inter-lingual reconnaissance to para-jumping-Ohno tries his utmost best not to fall asleep in the front row. They look cute completing each other’s sentences like the nerds that they are, Ohno thinks, although he knows that Sho will have his head on a plate if he even said that thought out loud.
Everything is running smoothly. Everything except his feelings for Nino, his crippling attraction to him with no release at sight, all topped off by his mounting guilt. He steers clear of Medicube as often as possible and goes about his duties.
*
>> Part 3