Fic: [Arashi] the scent of the sea
Title: the scent of the sea
Characters/Pairing: Nino/Ohno
Word Count/Rating: ~1150, PG
Summary: Nino is afraid of the sea. Nino is afraid of Ohno.
Notes: it's 5 am you guys holy shit. where did this come from. probably the deep well of nino's odd psyche.
Nino is afraid of the sea. It crashes in on itself with deep walloping power, it erases itself over and over, it's this deep unmanageable thing of secrets in the darkness. The waves have this suction that pulls things unwillingly off into the distance, and there are living things in it that in Nino's honest opinion have no reason to even be alive and blinking round creepy eyes in staccato rhythms. It's this glittering light blue and then dark blue, unfathomable, and sometimes even red and orange when the sun glimmers on it.
It's uncontrollable, and Nino doesn't like uncontrollable things.
He likes patterns, he likes being told that to save the princess he has to get to the next level. He likes role-play games in character types because that's just how the cookie's cut. Nino doesn't like the stuff that tries to ruin the pattern, it makes things messy and unmanageable. In his job he doesn't have time to guess or try to make things more romantic than they are, he simply plays things out how they're supposed to be, how people expect him to be. He gets a kick out of it, too. That control.
Ohno is both the sea and the misshapen cookie that's overflown the cut of the metal and is sprawled proudly in the corner in its own singular, unique shape, picking its nose. Ohno is the rebellious froth of the wave that's never drawn in the same pattern.
Nino is afraid of Ohno.
*
That's not to say that that's always true. For the most part Ohno can be trusted to be a stodgy old man, because that's what he's been since he was about 21 and going on 40. He's set in his ways and his hobbies and he and Ohno have got this by-play going on. It's been long established and Aiba, Jun and Sho know better than to intrude, because Nino can be a piranha and he does bite.
Ohno is comfortable, Ohno is no surprises, Ohno is boring. Ohno is quiet and limpid eyes.
Except when he isn't, and Nino hates it. It breaks everything apart. It makes Nino want to reach for a realism that would combust and break and tear his carefully-constructed idol world of happy snuggles and rainbows and 'this is a song that exists everywhere' apart. It makes him want the mess and the grime.
He really, really hates it.
*
Ohno comes in early most days, when he can, because he's trained himself into it. Nino can smell the sprig of cologne he uses, which is something that he's been trained into by others. It's giving this illusion of an extra layer, like Ohno is someone who actually cares enough to stand at the mirror in the morning and spray at the pale underside of his jaw.
It's a pleasant scent. Nino thinks Ohno's fine without it.
Sometimes Ohno smells more like the sea than anything else and it makes Nino uncomfortable. It makes his stomach roll like he's the one who was on the boat for over six hours. It makes him look away from the sun-kissed line of Ohno's shoulder where it's started to peel in little red spots, before the make-up people make it disappear. It's amazing how his sea sickness can affect him here, in the dressing room, miles away from the sea and on land.
*
Ohno is limpid eyes except when he isn't. Sometimes his eyes are like spices, burning at your tongue. Mostly it's when he's dancing, but sometimes it's when he's looking at them. Nino doesn't know what he sees, and that's frustrating. He knows exactly what Aiba sees, because that's not difficult at all. He knows what Sho sees because for Sho all the patterns and constructs are real. No one can claim to know what Jun sees, but Jun's never made Nino uncomfortable. Jun just is.
But when Ohno's eyes focus like that, it's a secret. A secret that Nino can't control, no matter how much he tries to manipulate Ohno. Ohno sees through his bullshit. Like sometimes, for Ohno, Nino just is, and Nino hates that, hates that.
*
Ohno's been trained in the dancing, too. Like the cologne. Ohno only has a passion for his type of dancing, not anything else he learned in their junior days. For the rest of them it's all one concept - obligation, sweat, trying to match the beat. For Ohno it's splintered into categories. He puts effort into some things and at others he cheats because he's got talent. Having talent isn't the same as trying. And that burns at Nino too, because he tries to figure out Ohno's motivations, the people that Ohno flirts with, which dances get Ohno's attention, which choreography makes Ohno's eyes change.
There's no pattern.
That bothers Nino. He watches Ohno that much more. And Ohno doesn't change, of course, he doesn't change for outside forces. He acts normal, reaching out for Nino like usual. An arm around the waist, a hand on the shoulder. Either the scent of cologne or the odor of salt that makes Nino's stomach lurch coming from behind his neck.
And that's their routine, so why is it that Nino wants it to break down? If it did he'd be making himself sick. He can't control Ohno anyway, so why does he want even the constructs to fall? It's the only thing he's got, for someone who he feels comfortable falling asleep with. There are rules, like game rules - no save point past here. Only a dwarf-type can win this quest. Everlasting fire burns forever, so you've got to be careful of where you seed it. Only this kind of quip will work in a winter editorial for Myojo. Only in the winter.
*
One day Ohno asks Nino if he wants to go out on the boat with him.
Nino stares at him. Because as much as they joke about it, and although Sho's gone a few times, fishing is Ohno's thing, that's the constant. And Nino, the sea makes him sick.
It's on the tip of his tongue to say that.
Ohno leans back against the counter, hips angling, narrow wrists protruding.
"Are you scared?" He grins.
"No," Nino spits out before he knows he's even speaking. "I get sick."
Ohno drums his fingers on the counter.
"You are scared," he says, slightly surprised. And then he grins, his eyes brightening. The spice explodes on Nino's tongue, travels down his throat and pools in his stomach and the small of his back, hot and wet. He stares at Ohno helplessly.
"I'm not."
"It's okay," Ohno says. "It's okay." He steps forward and grasps Nino's hands, warm against Nino's perpetually cold fingers. The scent of the sea reaches Nino's nose and makes him sway, his stomach jumping, his pulse beating wildly in his throat. He knew it, he knew this would make him sick, but he can't move away. Ohno's fingers are warming his own. "I'll explain everything," Ohno says.
No, you won't. Nino thinks, leaning his forehead into Ohno's. You liar. You've won.
Characters/Pairing: Nino/Ohno
Word Count/Rating: ~1150, PG
Summary: Nino is afraid of the sea. Nino is afraid of Ohno.
Notes: it's 5 am you guys holy shit. where did this come from. probably the deep well of nino's odd psyche.
Nino is afraid of the sea. It crashes in on itself with deep walloping power, it erases itself over and over, it's this deep unmanageable thing of secrets in the darkness. The waves have this suction that pulls things unwillingly off into the distance, and there are living things in it that in Nino's honest opinion have no reason to even be alive and blinking round creepy eyes in staccato rhythms. It's this glittering light blue and then dark blue, unfathomable, and sometimes even red and orange when the sun glimmers on it.
It's uncontrollable, and Nino doesn't like uncontrollable things.
He likes patterns, he likes being told that to save the princess he has to get to the next level. He likes role-play games in character types because that's just how the cookie's cut. Nino doesn't like the stuff that tries to ruin the pattern, it makes things messy and unmanageable. In his job he doesn't have time to guess or try to make things more romantic than they are, he simply plays things out how they're supposed to be, how people expect him to be. He gets a kick out of it, too. That control.
Ohno is both the sea and the misshapen cookie that's overflown the cut of the metal and is sprawled proudly in the corner in its own singular, unique shape, picking its nose. Ohno is the rebellious froth of the wave that's never drawn in the same pattern.
Nino is afraid of Ohno.
*
That's not to say that that's always true. For the most part Ohno can be trusted to be a stodgy old man, because that's what he's been since he was about 21 and going on 40. He's set in his ways and his hobbies and he and Ohno have got this by-play going on. It's been long established and Aiba, Jun and Sho know better than to intrude, because Nino can be a piranha and he does bite.
Ohno is comfortable, Ohno is no surprises, Ohno is boring. Ohno is quiet and limpid eyes.
Except when he isn't, and Nino hates it. It breaks everything apart. It makes Nino want to reach for a realism that would combust and break and tear his carefully-constructed idol world of happy snuggles and rainbows and 'this is a song that exists everywhere' apart. It makes him want the mess and the grime.
He really, really hates it.
*
Ohno comes in early most days, when he can, because he's trained himself into it. Nino can smell the sprig of cologne he uses, which is something that he's been trained into by others. It's giving this illusion of an extra layer, like Ohno is someone who actually cares enough to stand at the mirror in the morning and spray at the pale underside of his jaw.
It's a pleasant scent. Nino thinks Ohno's fine without it.
Sometimes Ohno smells more like the sea than anything else and it makes Nino uncomfortable. It makes his stomach roll like he's the one who was on the boat for over six hours. It makes him look away from the sun-kissed line of Ohno's shoulder where it's started to peel in little red spots, before the make-up people make it disappear. It's amazing how his sea sickness can affect him here, in the dressing room, miles away from the sea and on land.
*
Ohno is limpid eyes except when he isn't. Sometimes his eyes are like spices, burning at your tongue. Mostly it's when he's dancing, but sometimes it's when he's looking at them. Nino doesn't know what he sees, and that's frustrating. He knows exactly what Aiba sees, because that's not difficult at all. He knows what Sho sees because for Sho all the patterns and constructs are real. No one can claim to know what Jun sees, but Jun's never made Nino uncomfortable. Jun just is.
But when Ohno's eyes focus like that, it's a secret. A secret that Nino can't control, no matter how much he tries to manipulate Ohno. Ohno sees through his bullshit. Like sometimes, for Ohno, Nino just is, and Nino hates that, hates that.
*
Ohno's been trained in the dancing, too. Like the cologne. Ohno only has a passion for his type of dancing, not anything else he learned in their junior days. For the rest of them it's all one concept - obligation, sweat, trying to match the beat. For Ohno it's splintered into categories. He puts effort into some things and at others he cheats because he's got talent. Having talent isn't the same as trying. And that burns at Nino too, because he tries to figure out Ohno's motivations, the people that Ohno flirts with, which dances get Ohno's attention, which choreography makes Ohno's eyes change.
There's no pattern.
That bothers Nino. He watches Ohno that much more. And Ohno doesn't change, of course, he doesn't change for outside forces. He acts normal, reaching out for Nino like usual. An arm around the waist, a hand on the shoulder. Either the scent of cologne or the odor of salt that makes Nino's stomach lurch coming from behind his neck.
And that's their routine, so why is it that Nino wants it to break down? If it did he'd be making himself sick. He can't control Ohno anyway, so why does he want even the constructs to fall? It's the only thing he's got, for someone who he feels comfortable falling asleep with. There are rules, like game rules - no save point past here. Only a dwarf-type can win this quest. Everlasting fire burns forever, so you've got to be careful of where you seed it. Only this kind of quip will work in a winter editorial for Myojo. Only in the winter.
*
One day Ohno asks Nino if he wants to go out on the boat with him.
Nino stares at him. Because as much as they joke about it, and although Sho's gone a few times, fishing is Ohno's thing, that's the constant. And Nino, the sea makes him sick.
It's on the tip of his tongue to say that.
Ohno leans back against the counter, hips angling, narrow wrists protruding.
"Are you scared?" He grins.
"No," Nino spits out before he knows he's even speaking. "I get sick."
Ohno drums his fingers on the counter.
"You are scared," he says, slightly surprised. And then he grins, his eyes brightening. The spice explodes on Nino's tongue, travels down his throat and pools in his stomach and the small of his back, hot and wet. He stares at Ohno helplessly.
"I'm not."
"It's okay," Ohno says. "It's okay." He steps forward and grasps Nino's hands, warm against Nino's perpetually cold fingers. The scent of the sea reaches Nino's nose and makes him sway, his stomach jumping, his pulse beating wildly in his throat. He knew it, he knew this would make him sick, but he can't move away. Ohno's fingers are warming his own. "I'll explain everything," Ohno says.
No, you won't. Nino thinks, leaning his forehead into Ohno's. You liar. You've won.