UCM Final
Title: Undecided College Major: How to Explore Potential Degrees/Romantic Partners (32/32)
Author: r_tenou
Genres: Friendship, Romance, Comedy
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Matsumiya, Ohmiya, Sakuraiba
Disclaimer: None of this really happened. Who would have thought?
Summary: Aiba is helpful, Sho is irritable, and Nino needs to do it properly
A/N: 117,500 words. I cannot begin to comprehend this. I’m told it’s an extraordinary accomplishment, but it really doesn’t feel that way to me, since I had an extraordinary amount of fun working on it. I started writing it at the end of July last year and I feel as though it's been (nearly) a year well-spent. Thanks to everyone who read and commented and lurked and simply had as much fun as I did.
And a special thank you to my amazing, amazing beta, eva_lee , for being an awesome sounding board when I just can’t seem to write and for telling me straight up when my Ohno is out-of-character or why it sounds really awkward for Sho to wear socks during sex. ^_^ This fic never would have happened without ya, honneh.
kokkaii asked if she could draw a picture of the neighbor girl and it looks completely awesome. Take a look at it here.
Last Chapter
There was singing again, off-key, off-tempo, off-everything, and Nino cringed in his seat, burying his face behind his hands as though he should be the one embarrassed by it all. It wasn't like he really cared, but there was nothing else to do and he was forced by his own glutton-for-punishment curiosity to pay attention to the actors onstage and their wildly over-dramatized lines and movements. It was painful to watch and for the thousandth time that night, he found himself wishing he'd brought his game boy (not that playing it would have done any good in the dimmed lighting), but he could have at least kept the introduction screen on loop and taken a nap to the tune of the Legend of Zelda.
It wasn't as if he really needed to see the play; after all, Jun was a stagehand, not an actor, but something made Nino remain in his seat through the first few acts, and it was nearing the end anyway. He glanced to the plastic-wrapped bouquet of orchids next to him and for the millionth time that day asked himself: what man in his right mind buys flowers for another man, on closing night, who isn't even one of the actors? He sent one more weary look out the corner of his eye to the random shades of pink and purple and shrugged, thinking that if anyone asked, he could just lie and say that one of the actresses was his girlfriend. It wasn't too far off base.
You're rambling again, a voice at the back of his mind said and Nino ran a hand through his hair, willing his “good sense” to shut the hell up, if it so pleased. You're nervous, the voice countered.
Nino rolled his eyes as though he were talking to a totally different person and not himself. It was only natural to be out-of-his-mind nervous, complete with fluttery-fluttery butterflies in his stomach and the kinds of feelings that Aiba liked to tease him about - did tease him about. He wouldn't even be there, in the strange-smelling auditorium, if Aiba hadn't insisted.
* * *
No amount of scrubbing with his palms could ease the pain in his red-rimmed eyes, burning with unshed tears and a need to bury his face in the pillow. It didn't help that the entire bed smelled like Jun and that damned floral scented fabric softener he was so fond of. Nino used to find the scent revolting; now, he simply wanted to drown in it.
There was a hesitant knock at the open door, followed by Aiba's breathy voice, unsure and scared. “Nino-chan?” Aiba asked and Nino shot up, turning his back to the man in the doorway and quickly wiping the moisture from his eyes.
“What?” Nino asked. He was unable to help his short tone.
“Nino-chan,” Aiba repeated and Nino could hear him come closer.
“Don't,” Nino warned. He turned and gave a weak smile, peering at Aiba out the corner of his eye. “I'm fine Aiba-chan. I'll be fine.”
For the longest time Nino heard nothing and assumed that maybe he'd been successful in his convincing. He was surprised, however, when he felt the mattress sink behind him and a pair of comforting arms wrap around him. Nino was pulled back into Aiba's warm embrace (and fought the entire way) until his back rested against Aiba's chest and he gave up.
“What happened, Nino-chan?” Aiba asked, barely a whisper against Nino's ear.
“Nothing,” Nino lied.
Aiba sighed. “Matsujun looked really upset, so I knew Nino had to be upset too. You can't tell me it's nothing. I know you better than that.”
“I'm just stupid,” Nino mumbled, “is all.”
Aiba giggled and Nino wanted to hit him, but that would have required actually moving. “We've known that for quite a while Nino,” Aiba said in jest, though it was neither the place nor the time. “But for you to have realized it, something big must have happened.”
Aiba felt so very warm; he was usually right about everything, even in his most misguided attempts, Nino had come to realize. It was the older man's simplicity that allowed Aiba to see things that most others missed, some right in front of them. Aiba had known all along and the thought kind of sickened Nino, to the point where he didn't want to admit it directly.
He thought back to the day they'd met, when Aiba's sleeve had been caught in the meat slicer and they'd had to free him. They'd scored free meals (two days in a row for Nino), but they'd also managed to take on a leech of a friend who always showed up at the most inopportune moments; who always misinterpreted every happening as a secret, psychological call for sex.
And who always seemed to be the first one there to offer comfort on a bad day.
“I just realized it's too late,” Nino replied as though it were old news. “And now he hates me.”
“Jun?”
Nino's first instinct was sarcasm, but he couldn't even bother with that. “Who else?” he asked with a shrug.
“Jun is hurting.” Aiba nodded. “But Nino is hurting too. There's only one way to fix this.”
Nino let out a breath that sounded like a half-laugh, bitter and disappointed. “I don't think there's any way to fix this.”
“Have a little faith, Nino-chan,” Aiba spoke and ran a hand through Nino's hair as though he was petting a disgruntled kitten. “You have to tell Jun-chan how you feel. You have to do it properly, Nino.”
“Properly?” Nino wondered aloud, turning his head up to look at Aiba's face. “What do you mean by properly?”
“I mean, you have to apologize for acting like such an idiot,” Aiba continued, despite Nino's visual blanch at the option. “And you have to tell Jun that you love him - straightforwardly. That's what I mean by properly.”
“Good luck with that,” Nino scoffed. “He doesn't even want to be in the same room as me right now.”
“That's why you get him in a place he can't escape,” Aiba spoke as his mind conjured ideas. “It's probably not a good idea to tie him up. Not at first anyway... it could make for some interesting make-up sex... do you think Sho-chan would go for handcuffs?”
“Aiba!”
“Sorry.” The taller man smiled sheepishly, as though he couldn't help himself. “I know! Tomorrow is the last day of the play, right? You should corner Matsujun afterward! He won't want to make a scene in front of his cast mates. It's perfect!” Aiba exclaimed proudly.
Nino couldn't say no even if he wanted to.
* * *
One of the girls shrieked on stage in what she called singing and Nino fought the urge to cover his ears with his hands. Maybe it was the fact that this was the last night or maybe it was the fact that his mood was incredibly soured by his nervousness, but the performers on stage failed to live up to the praise Aiba had rained down on anyone who would listen for more than five seconds.
A male started in screeching falsetto, louder than anyone so far, and this time Nino really did cover his ears. This, he corrected, was Aiba's way of punishing him. Thinking back to that morning though, everything seemed to be about punishing Nino.
Personally, he liked to blame Sakurai.
* * *
Nino sighed in defeat just as the sound of rusted springs moving frantically in the next room stopped. He pulled his pillow over his head and shoved his nose into the cushions of Sho's couch. He wasn't sure what was worse - the sound of monkeys mating in the next room or the smell of molded bread that seemed to permeate through the air.
Something told him it was going to be a bad day, shouted and begged at him to just go to sleep and never wake up.
The door to the bedroom opened and someone shuffled out, bare feet padding softly against the worn carpet. “Oh, I forgot he was out here,” Sho's voice was quiet and Nino could hear the embarrassment within.
“I wish I could forget I was here too,” Nino replied in agitation, though the couch cushion muffled most of his ire.
“I'm sorry Nino,” Sho said quickly, rubbing a nervous hand on the leg of his sweatpants. “It's just that Masaki was so-” he was cut off as Nino threw himself into a sitting position, peering at the older student through a mess of bed-head and the scariest face of discontent that Sho had ever seen on any one person.
“I don't need the sordid details, Sho-chan,” Nino said pointedly. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped the fluffy blue blanket around his body. Sho stood staring at him for the longest time, as though he were contemplating something unknown, until finally he shook his head with the barest hint of a silly smile and moved on to the mini-fridge in the corner. Nino followed him with a scrutinizing eye, wondering what it was that the older man found so amusing.
“What's wrong Sho-chan? Not much for cuddling?” Nino asked cooed in his best teasing tone. “You didn't mind it so much when it was just me.”
“I,” Sho made a point of emphasizing, “just had really great morning sex. Maybe if Nino was nicer, he'd be having a little fun of his own.” That shut Nino up for the moment, and so Sho continued cheekily as he pulled a chilled bottle of water from the fridge. “Aiba-chan told me you're going to see Jun this evening after the play. Should I give you some pointers?”
Nino narrowed his eyes and turned to face the opposite direction. He was supposed to be him making Sho's life a living hell, not the other way around.
“Seriously though, are you going to go?” Sho asked in between gulps of water. “Aiba-chan said you were... but I didn't know if that was just his hopeful thinking or not.” Nino remained silent. “It's probably a good idea, but you should be careful in how you approach it.”
“Aiba-chan already told me to do it properly,” Nino bit out, folding his arms over one another underneath the blanket. He didn't need Sakurai telling him what he should and shouldn't do.
Sho went on anyway. “Regardless, you need to be careful.”
“Yes, mommy.” Nino rolled his eyes childishly and leaned back against his pillow, mentally counting the seconds until Sho disappeared back to where he'd come from. Nino much preferred the earlier sounds to Sho's harping; at least then, someone had been having a good time, even if it wasn't him.
“I'm serious Nino,” Sho said, placing his water back in the fridge. “You can't keep going all defensive when touchy subjects come up. If you keep reacting with resistance, you're never going to get anywhere, especially with Jun.”
Nino closed his eyes and knew that Sho was right. “Fine,” he said, though inside he was fighting it wholeheartedly. Old habits were hard to break and all that jazz. He turned around with a placid expression and asked: “What should I do?”
“For starters, you have to do it properly,” Sho began.
“I've already been told that much, thank you.”
“Do you even know what that means?” It was Sho's turn to roll his eyes as he leaned against the counter. He continued when Nino didn't answer. “It means that you have to be sincere, be patient, be understanding. I know that's a stretch for you-”
“Hey!” Nino chimed in indignantly.
“But that's how apologies work, Nino,” Sho finished. “And it probably won't hurt to do something thoughtful to show your sincerity - something special for Jun. Something he would like.”
“What is he?” Nino laughed. “A girl?”
“That's what I'm talking about Nino,” Sho snapped. He crossed the room, pausing by the bedroom door to throw back a meaningful look. “You're not gonna make it better with jokes or sarcasm. You can't just dodge this and hope it all goes away, because it won't. And when you're left suffering in the end, there'll be no one left to help you up, because we've all exhausted ourselves trying to point you in the right direction.”
Nino couldn't argue that.
* * *
Someone started rapping through the last five minutes of a song Nino didn't care to pay attention to and he was reminded of Sho's tone-deaf musical skills, tapping his fingers, offbeat and frantic, against the arm of the couch. He'd repeat random words to himself over and over again as he did his homework, never once stopping to honestly think of what he was singing. Secretly Nino stored a few away for his own collection, but if asked, he would say that the habit annoyed him more than not.
Though he'd disliked Sho from the start, Nino had never met a person (other than Jun) was able to read him so well. While everyone else would simply take Nino with a grain of salt, Sho would go against the flow and make his presence known. He didn't know if it was because they operated on the same playing field mentally, or if it was because they had shared the same interest in Jun, but whatever it was that caused him and Sho to come to terms, Nino was secretly grateful for it.
Especially since it meant he didn't have to pay rent.
He hadn't had to pay rent at Ohno's house either, to be fair - that had been one of the selling points, but it definitely wasn't the only selling point. With Ohno's house had come Ohno himself and an end to the mysterious stranger who slept on random park benches. And although Nino never got to see the older man's peaceful sleeping features again, he'd been able to establish for a fact that Ohno was just as calm, just as serene during his waking state as he was asleep.
* * *
The couch in the campus commons (one of many) was hard and dug into his back like he was sitting against hard wood furniture and not supposedly soft cushions. Nino cursed the fact that playing a game boy was nearly impossible in thick gloves, that being the reason for his sojourn inside in the first place. It was cold outside, even in the early-afternoon sunlight, and the wind was biting and harsh and seemed to reflect his mood entirely.
By all means, the couch should have been an ideal place for sitting back with his copy of Super Mario World; it held up better than the blue monstrosity in Ohno's house and it smelled ten-times better than the short one in Sho's dormitory. Yet somehow Nino would have found either of them more preferable than being alone in the campus commons.
He'd left Sho's dorm room after their encounter (and the squeaky noise of springs began again) only to find that he'd nowhere to go. The library was closed, Toma wasn't in his dorm, the freshmen in the dorm common room were still angry with him over something about shampoo, and there was no way in hell he'd be going to Ohno's house anytime soon.
At least not until he'd apologized to Jun.
An arm flew up against the back of another couch and Nino was startled into an irritated glare, casting ill will and malice toward the owner of said appendage. He couldn't see whomever it was, the back of the couch between them, and the oddly positioned setup of the common room only served to discourage him. He leaned forward, then backward, as far as the cushions would allow him to go, and still couldn't attach an identity to the arm.
Upon further inspection, however, he found that he recognized the hand and its long, elegant fingers. They were what had haunted his dreams and fantasies for the better part of the semester - and Nino found that they were just as appealing when he couldn't see the person they belonged to.
“What are you doing in here, Ohno-kun?” Nino said aloud, sitting back against the couch with a smug grin. The second couch shifted and the hand clutched at the back as Ohno sat up slowly, looking back at Nino with a guilty smile.
“It was cold outside,” Ohno replied simply and that was all Nino needed.
There wasn't much talking when Ohno was around. Instead, Nino put his game on pause, shoving it into the overly large pocket of his parka and moved to the other couch, where Ohno was sitting blankly. Nino turned toward him and their knees were touching ever so slightly with every movement they made. “I...” Nino started, but found he couldn't even begin to decide on what he wanted to say.
As it turned out, he didn't have to.
“You've made a decision,” Ohno said and Nino watched in fascination as the older man's blank stare morphed into a wide grin, his row of pearly white teeth almost outshining Aiba's usual luminosity. It was then that Nino's feelings were cemented. Ohno was someone he would never be able to understand entirely and that was unsettling to Nino, even as he realized it. There was an attractive calm about Ohno that everyone felt, but underneath there was also a layer of unknowing and unfeeling that kept Nino from connecting fully with the mysterious man.
It rubbed off on Nino (and everyone else around) in great waves, like the ocean washing over the shore in shades of blue and white, unexpectedly before it retreated to where it had come from. Ohno was very much untouchable in that way, unreachable for everyone except the fish that ran with him. Nino hated fish though, and was reluctant to compare himself to one, so he supposed this was the only logical conclusion available.
“I have.” Nino nodded and a thought rested on his mind, barely there at first. “How did you know,” because he had no doubt that Ohno really did know, “that I would choose Jun? When did you know?”
“Hm.” Ohno nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips against the remnants of his smile. “There was never any question, was there? Even from the beginning, probably.”
“Wasn't there?”
“There wasn't. Plus, Aiba-chan told me.”
Nino smiled a half-smile. Leave it to Aiba.
“Then why did you never try to deter my...” Nino paused in obvious discomfort. It wasn't easy to say, but he had to know. “...advances?” He expected laughter, a chortle, or a giggle - anything; that's what he would have done if their roles were reversed. Nino ducked his head low and turned to stare out the window as though the barren landscape outside was far more interesting.
“Nino-kun can't help who he likes, or thinks he likes, can he?” Ohno mumbled, more in thought than because he didn't want to answer. Ohno lived in his own thoughts more so than the outside world. “Who am I to stop you?”
“It would have made things a lot easier.”
In a rare moment of lucidity, where the synapses that translated his thoughts into words connected flawlessly, Ohno imparted a bit of the wisdom that was always kept hidden in his eyes. “Nothing worth having is ever easy, is it?”
Nino laughed. “No. It isn't.”
* * *
Nino sank into his seat, rubbing his weary face with one hand as he reached out to touch the bouquet, just to make sure it was still there. They were, of course, as was the knowledge that he'd eventually have to hand them over to Jun along with a reason why.
He wasn’t looking forward to it, absolutely dreading it, and a part of him worried that maybe he wouldn't be forgiven, that maybe he didn't deserve to be forgiven. If it had been the other way around, Nino wasn't sure he could have forgiven someone who'd professed to like him and then turned around and made out (on more than one occasion) with another person. His already dilapidated self-worth wouldn't be able to take it.
He had to though, even if he had to suffer a little (or a lot). Nino wanted Jun, needed Jun, like the corniest of love songs all rolled into one. It was frightening to think that he might not actually succeed, that he'd have to move on without a presence that had been forever within reach ever since he'd first started at this hellhole called university.
It wouldn't be so bad if you'd just shape up and figure things out, the voice sounded again suddenly and Nino reminded it that he had figured things out, thank you very much.
The bouquet rustled as he accidentally jarred the next seat with his knee. Nino eyed it dubiously, wondering if it would do any good in his apology, or if it was simply a wasted attempt in the first place. They were pretty though, he conceded, and Jun could never resist pretty things.
The world around him erupted into loud applause and Nino was startled from his thoughts, looking wildly left and right to see people actually sending the performers a standing ovation. He considered himself lucky to have drowned out the rest of it with the more preferable sound of his own mind, however annoying it could be at times.
As the players came out to take their bows, Nino gathered the bouquet into his arms, letting the bottom of his seat jump to it's upward position as he stood to leave. Quietly, under the darkness of the auditorium, he edged out a side exit, making sure to go unnoticed in the process.
The hall outside was empty and the building looked completely different under the canvas of night, the dark blue walls looking even darker without the light of the sun to cast different shades. Nino knew exactly where he was going though, and didn't need the help of the overhead fluorescent lighting to get there. Down a short staircase and around a corner, he saw that the overly large double doors that led backstage were open and a pool of light spilled out into the hall.
Behind the scenes, stagehands were still at work, maneuvering the curtains and the lighting, and moving props from the last scene to their proper place for storage until they were disassembled over the next few days. Nino hid half in the doorway, peeking in curiously before he allowed himself full access.
He saw Jun right away, standing next to the production manager, both avidly going over a clipboard list to make sure everything was accounted for. Some of the props were on loan, so it was of no doubt that their work was far from over. For a moment Nino simply stood and stared, breathing deeply and willing the sick feeling of his stomach rising into his throat back down to a more comfortable level.
“There's no reason to be so freaking nervous. This is Jun!” he muttered to himself. Yet he couldn't stop the torrent of unwanted feelings from washing over him like acid rain.
“Are you looking for someone?” a voice erupted near him, much louder than Nino would have preferred. He turned to fix whoever it was a glare to end all, but it was too late. An even greater feeling of foreboding ran down his spine and he turned back to lock eyes with Jun. Like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights, Nino could only stare in abashed resignation as Jun said something to the manager. He shifted the flowers behind his back, to hide them, as Jun walked toward him, looking just as befuddled.
“What are you doing here?” Jun asked, his perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They backed into the hallway to have some privacy from the other stagehands.
“I came to see your play. Why else would I be here?” Nino couldn't help the defensive tone that crept into his voice. He mentally winced even as it left his mouth, remembering Sho's warning. “You can be so dense sometimes, Jun-pon.”
Jun nodded, visibly biting his tongue with his jaw set forward. “Hm. Is that so? Well, thanks. I've got a lot of work to do, so...” he trailed off as he turned to go back inside.
“Wait!” Nino grabbed at the younger's sleeve with his free hand, causing Jun to turn back around. This time his brows were set in a curve of curiosity, as thought he'd only just noticed something.
“What are you hiding?” Jun rose up higher to peer over Nino's shoulders and see whatever it was the shorter man was keeping secret. It wasn't much of a feat though, since Jun was naturally taller to begin with.
Slowly, almost painfully, Nino brought the bouquet from behind him, knowing there was no way he could really hide them for long. He hoped they would be enough for their reconciliation. “For you...” he said quietly.
"You seriously brought me flowers?" Jun said in disbelief as he reached out and accepted his purple bouquet, bringing them up to his nose to check the fragrance. His eyes softened, if only marginally. "You do know that flowers are generally given on opening night, right?"
"Look, do you want them or not?" Nino brought his hand back up as though he were going to snatch the flowers back. Jun shook his head in the negative, turning away so that Nino couldn't get to them. The youngest touched the petals, almost reverently, giving himself away.
"At least tell me you bought them yourself,” Jun said and tsked as though he already knew the answer and didn't like it. “You didn't con Sho-kun into doing it, did you?"
Nino scoffed, his feathers ruffled in a most unpleasant way. "Why the hell would I give you flowers from Sho?"
"And you got my favorite orchids,” Jun said appreciatively, his attention still focused on the shades of purple and pink and white. It wasn't long before he looked back up at Nino questioningly. “How? Orchids aren't in season."
"I had to go around to fifty-dozen flower shops before figuring that out.” Nino recounted the afternoon in his head (it had been Ohno's suggestion, oddly enough), calling up a number of floral shops only to find that the people in charge weren't sure what they had. He'd ended up going to each and every one the city had, searching for Jun's favorites. When the last one hadn't had them, Sho had made a helpful suggestion. “Luckily the greenhouse here on campus grows them."
"So you didn't buy them," Jun said, the disappointment not hidden from his voice.
"They're your favorites!" Nino stood, shell-shocked and unsure of what to say next. His mouth hung open as he fought his brain for coherent words, his brows pinched together like he couldn't believe this was actually happening.
Jun took pity on him. "Do they come with a message attached?"
Nino mellowed, closing his eyes in concentration as he kicked the toe of his shoe against the faded blue carpet. He nodded, looking anywhere but at Jun. "Two. First that I'm sorry I've been such an ass lately."
Jun nodded. "You really have been an ass. You're still being an ass, if the direction of this conversation is any indication."
"Will you let me continue?"
"Please."
Nino rubbed the back of his neck, hissing in a breath of air painfully as he tried to think carefully about what he wanted to say. He knew it was going to be difficult, but he hadn't expected it to be this unbearable. Jun was standing just in front of him, tapping his foot against the carpet impatiently and all Nino could do was cough lightly into his own hand.
“Any day now,” Jun stated, looking at the watch on his wrist, juggling the bouquet around to see it. He looked completely emotionless, expressionless, and Nino knew that this was his punishment. Worse yet - he knew he deserved it.
Nino mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "I love you."
"Excuse me?" Jun asked, checking his watch again and lifting his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt at feigning boredom. It was the worst kind of torture Nino had ever had to endure - even worse than fire drills at four in the morning or running out of batteries at midnight when there was at least three more hours in the day to waste gaming.
"I said I love you!" Nino shouted irritably.
"Can't even say it properly," Jun said, unimpressed. “How am I supposed to take you seriously when you act like it's such an inconvenience?” He turned as though he were going to walk away, to leave Nino standing there in the hallway, alone and dumbstruck and feeling completely stupid for his efforts.
Jun was walking, was nearing the entrance and Nino wondered if this was really the end, if this was really going to be the way he lost his best friend and potential lover. Determined with the thought that he'd come this far, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loud enough for those on the inside of the theatre to hear: "I love you and I choose you and I've been absolutely, completely stupid about this whole thing! Happiness, to me, isn't watching a sleeping man on a park bench; it's waking up next to Matsumoto Jun!"
Jun turned to fix him with a glare, though the corners of his mouth turned upward like he was fighting a smile. “You idiot. They can hear you in there.”
“And I'll shout it again, if that's what it takes.” He cupped his hands around his mouth once more. “I love Jun!” he shouted and the echoing sounds of clapping and catcalls could be heard from the entrance.
Jun laughed, loud and clear, and took the few steps forward to reach the shorter man. Placing his free hand atop Nino's head and ruffling his hair a bit, Jun spoke. "That's all I wanted to hear."
"I hate you," Nino responded, though a sense of relief overtook his body and he let his shoulders slump forward.
Jun shook his head, his hand still atop Nino's head. "No, you love me.”
"I do." Nino smiled his own mischievous smirk. In one swift motion he took hold of the fabric of Jun's shirt and pulled the taller man forward, until they were flush against each other and he could feel the shivers of surprise that ran down Jun's body. Their smiles grew smaller the closer they came together, until their lips were touching in one simple, perfect kiss.
All right, the voice in Nino's head sounded; maybe he was wrong; maybe this was happiness.
Epilogue
Author: r_tenou
Genres: Friendship, Romance, Comedy
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Matsumiya, Ohmiya, Sakuraiba
Disclaimer: None of this really happened. Who would have thought?
Summary: Aiba is helpful, Sho is irritable, and Nino needs to do it properly
A/N: 117,500 words. I cannot begin to comprehend this. I’m told it’s an extraordinary accomplishment, but it really doesn’t feel that way to me, since I had an extraordinary amount of fun working on it. I started writing it at the end of July last year and I feel as though it's been (nearly) a year well-spent. Thanks to everyone who read and commented and lurked and simply had as much fun as I did.
And a special thank you to my amazing, amazing beta, eva_lee , for being an awesome sounding board when I just can’t seem to write and for telling me straight up when my Ohno is out-of-character or why it sounds really awkward for Sho to wear socks during sex. ^_^ This fic never would have happened without ya, honneh.
kokkaii asked if she could draw a picture of the neighbor girl and it looks completely awesome. Take a look at it here.
Last Chapter
There was singing again, off-key, off-tempo, off-everything, and Nino cringed in his seat, burying his face behind his hands as though he should be the one embarrassed by it all. It wasn't like he really cared, but there was nothing else to do and he was forced by his own glutton-for-punishment curiosity to pay attention to the actors onstage and their wildly over-dramatized lines and movements. It was painful to watch and for the thousandth time that night, he found himself wishing he'd brought his game boy (not that playing it would have done any good in the dimmed lighting), but he could have at least kept the introduction screen on loop and taken a nap to the tune of the Legend of Zelda.
It wasn't as if he really needed to see the play; after all, Jun was a stagehand, not an actor, but something made Nino remain in his seat through the first few acts, and it was nearing the end anyway. He glanced to the plastic-wrapped bouquet of orchids next to him and for the millionth time that day asked himself: what man in his right mind buys flowers for another man, on closing night, who isn't even one of the actors? He sent one more weary look out the corner of his eye to the random shades of pink and purple and shrugged, thinking that if anyone asked, he could just lie and say that one of the actresses was his girlfriend. It wasn't too far off base.
You're rambling again, a voice at the back of his mind said and Nino ran a hand through his hair, willing his “good sense” to shut the hell up, if it so pleased. You're nervous, the voice countered.
Nino rolled his eyes as though he were talking to a totally different person and not himself. It was only natural to be out-of-his-mind nervous, complete with fluttery-fluttery butterflies in his stomach and the kinds of feelings that Aiba liked to tease him about - did tease him about. He wouldn't even be there, in the strange-smelling auditorium, if Aiba hadn't insisted.
* * *
No amount of scrubbing with his palms could ease the pain in his red-rimmed eyes, burning with unshed tears and a need to bury his face in the pillow. It didn't help that the entire bed smelled like Jun and that damned floral scented fabric softener he was so fond of. Nino used to find the scent revolting; now, he simply wanted to drown in it.
There was a hesitant knock at the open door, followed by Aiba's breathy voice, unsure and scared. “Nino-chan?” Aiba asked and Nino shot up, turning his back to the man in the doorway and quickly wiping the moisture from his eyes.
“What?” Nino asked. He was unable to help his short tone.
“Nino-chan,” Aiba repeated and Nino could hear him come closer.
“Don't,” Nino warned. He turned and gave a weak smile, peering at Aiba out the corner of his eye. “I'm fine Aiba-chan. I'll be fine.”
For the longest time Nino heard nothing and assumed that maybe he'd been successful in his convincing. He was surprised, however, when he felt the mattress sink behind him and a pair of comforting arms wrap around him. Nino was pulled back into Aiba's warm embrace (and fought the entire way) until his back rested against Aiba's chest and he gave up.
“What happened, Nino-chan?” Aiba asked, barely a whisper against Nino's ear.
“Nothing,” Nino lied.
Aiba sighed. “Matsujun looked really upset, so I knew Nino had to be upset too. You can't tell me it's nothing. I know you better than that.”
“I'm just stupid,” Nino mumbled, “is all.”
Aiba giggled and Nino wanted to hit him, but that would have required actually moving. “We've known that for quite a while Nino,” Aiba said in jest, though it was neither the place nor the time. “But for you to have realized it, something big must have happened.”
Aiba felt so very warm; he was usually right about everything, even in his most misguided attempts, Nino had come to realize. It was the older man's simplicity that allowed Aiba to see things that most others missed, some right in front of them. Aiba had known all along and the thought kind of sickened Nino, to the point where he didn't want to admit it directly.
He thought back to the day they'd met, when Aiba's sleeve had been caught in the meat slicer and they'd had to free him. They'd scored free meals (two days in a row for Nino), but they'd also managed to take on a leech of a friend who always showed up at the most inopportune moments; who always misinterpreted every happening as a secret, psychological call for sex.
And who always seemed to be the first one there to offer comfort on a bad day.
“I just realized it's too late,” Nino replied as though it were old news. “And now he hates me.”
“Jun?”
Nino's first instinct was sarcasm, but he couldn't even bother with that. “Who else?” he asked with a shrug.
“Jun is hurting.” Aiba nodded. “But Nino is hurting too. There's only one way to fix this.”
Nino let out a breath that sounded like a half-laugh, bitter and disappointed. “I don't think there's any way to fix this.”
“Have a little faith, Nino-chan,” Aiba spoke and ran a hand through Nino's hair as though he was petting a disgruntled kitten. “You have to tell Jun-chan how you feel. You have to do it properly, Nino.”
“Properly?” Nino wondered aloud, turning his head up to look at Aiba's face. “What do you mean by properly?”
“I mean, you have to apologize for acting like such an idiot,” Aiba continued, despite Nino's visual blanch at the option. “And you have to tell Jun that you love him - straightforwardly. That's what I mean by properly.”
“Good luck with that,” Nino scoffed. “He doesn't even want to be in the same room as me right now.”
“That's why you get him in a place he can't escape,” Aiba spoke as his mind conjured ideas. “It's probably not a good idea to tie him up. Not at first anyway... it could make for some interesting make-up sex... do you think Sho-chan would go for handcuffs?”
“Aiba!”
“Sorry.” The taller man smiled sheepishly, as though he couldn't help himself. “I know! Tomorrow is the last day of the play, right? You should corner Matsujun afterward! He won't want to make a scene in front of his cast mates. It's perfect!” Aiba exclaimed proudly.
Nino couldn't say no even if he wanted to.
* * *
One of the girls shrieked on stage in what she called singing and Nino fought the urge to cover his ears with his hands. Maybe it was the fact that this was the last night or maybe it was the fact that his mood was incredibly soured by his nervousness, but the performers on stage failed to live up to the praise Aiba had rained down on anyone who would listen for more than five seconds.
A male started in screeching falsetto, louder than anyone so far, and this time Nino really did cover his ears. This, he corrected, was Aiba's way of punishing him. Thinking back to that morning though, everything seemed to be about punishing Nino.
Personally, he liked to blame Sakurai.
* * *
Nino sighed in defeat just as the sound of rusted springs moving frantically in the next room stopped. He pulled his pillow over his head and shoved his nose into the cushions of Sho's couch. He wasn't sure what was worse - the sound of monkeys mating in the next room or the smell of molded bread that seemed to permeate through the air.
Something told him it was going to be a bad day, shouted and begged at him to just go to sleep and never wake up.
The door to the bedroom opened and someone shuffled out, bare feet padding softly against the worn carpet. “Oh, I forgot he was out here,” Sho's voice was quiet and Nino could hear the embarrassment within.
“I wish I could forget I was here too,” Nino replied in agitation, though the couch cushion muffled most of his ire.
“I'm sorry Nino,” Sho said quickly, rubbing a nervous hand on the leg of his sweatpants. “It's just that Masaki was so-” he was cut off as Nino threw himself into a sitting position, peering at the older student through a mess of bed-head and the scariest face of discontent that Sho had ever seen on any one person.
“I don't need the sordid details, Sho-chan,” Nino said pointedly. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped the fluffy blue blanket around his body. Sho stood staring at him for the longest time, as though he were contemplating something unknown, until finally he shook his head with the barest hint of a silly smile and moved on to the mini-fridge in the corner. Nino followed him with a scrutinizing eye, wondering what it was that the older man found so amusing.
“What's wrong Sho-chan? Not much for cuddling?” Nino asked cooed in his best teasing tone. “You didn't mind it so much when it was just me.”
“I,” Sho made a point of emphasizing, “just had really great morning sex. Maybe if Nino was nicer, he'd be having a little fun of his own.” That shut Nino up for the moment, and so Sho continued cheekily as he pulled a chilled bottle of water from the fridge. “Aiba-chan told me you're going to see Jun this evening after the play. Should I give you some pointers?”
Nino narrowed his eyes and turned to face the opposite direction. He was supposed to be him making Sho's life a living hell, not the other way around.
“Seriously though, are you going to go?” Sho asked in between gulps of water. “Aiba-chan said you were... but I didn't know if that was just his hopeful thinking or not.” Nino remained silent. “It's probably a good idea, but you should be careful in how you approach it.”
“Aiba-chan already told me to do it properly,” Nino bit out, folding his arms over one another underneath the blanket. He didn't need Sakurai telling him what he should and shouldn't do.
Sho went on anyway. “Regardless, you need to be careful.”
“Yes, mommy.” Nino rolled his eyes childishly and leaned back against his pillow, mentally counting the seconds until Sho disappeared back to where he'd come from. Nino much preferred the earlier sounds to Sho's harping; at least then, someone had been having a good time, even if it wasn't him.
“I'm serious Nino,” Sho said, placing his water back in the fridge. “You can't keep going all defensive when touchy subjects come up. If you keep reacting with resistance, you're never going to get anywhere, especially with Jun.”
Nino closed his eyes and knew that Sho was right. “Fine,” he said, though inside he was fighting it wholeheartedly. Old habits were hard to break and all that jazz. He turned around with a placid expression and asked: “What should I do?”
“For starters, you have to do it properly,” Sho began.
“I've already been told that much, thank you.”
“Do you even know what that means?” It was Sho's turn to roll his eyes as he leaned against the counter. He continued when Nino didn't answer. “It means that you have to be sincere, be patient, be understanding. I know that's a stretch for you-”
“Hey!” Nino chimed in indignantly.
“But that's how apologies work, Nino,” Sho finished. “And it probably won't hurt to do something thoughtful to show your sincerity - something special for Jun. Something he would like.”
“What is he?” Nino laughed. “A girl?”
“That's what I'm talking about Nino,” Sho snapped. He crossed the room, pausing by the bedroom door to throw back a meaningful look. “You're not gonna make it better with jokes or sarcasm. You can't just dodge this and hope it all goes away, because it won't. And when you're left suffering in the end, there'll be no one left to help you up, because we've all exhausted ourselves trying to point you in the right direction.”
Nino couldn't argue that.
* * *
Someone started rapping through the last five minutes of a song Nino didn't care to pay attention to and he was reminded of Sho's tone-deaf musical skills, tapping his fingers, offbeat and frantic, against the arm of the couch. He'd repeat random words to himself over and over again as he did his homework, never once stopping to honestly think of what he was singing. Secretly Nino stored a few away for his own collection, but if asked, he would say that the habit annoyed him more than not.
Though he'd disliked Sho from the start, Nino had never met a person (other than Jun) was able to read him so well. While everyone else would simply take Nino with a grain of salt, Sho would go against the flow and make his presence known. He didn't know if it was because they operated on the same playing field mentally, or if it was because they had shared the same interest in Jun, but whatever it was that caused him and Sho to come to terms, Nino was secretly grateful for it.
Especially since it meant he didn't have to pay rent.
He hadn't had to pay rent at Ohno's house either, to be fair - that had been one of the selling points, but it definitely wasn't the only selling point. With Ohno's house had come Ohno himself and an end to the mysterious stranger who slept on random park benches. And although Nino never got to see the older man's peaceful sleeping features again, he'd been able to establish for a fact that Ohno was just as calm, just as serene during his waking state as he was asleep.
* * *
The couch in the campus commons (one of many) was hard and dug into his back like he was sitting against hard wood furniture and not supposedly soft cushions. Nino cursed the fact that playing a game boy was nearly impossible in thick gloves, that being the reason for his sojourn inside in the first place. It was cold outside, even in the early-afternoon sunlight, and the wind was biting and harsh and seemed to reflect his mood entirely.
By all means, the couch should have been an ideal place for sitting back with his copy of Super Mario World; it held up better than the blue monstrosity in Ohno's house and it smelled ten-times better than the short one in Sho's dormitory. Yet somehow Nino would have found either of them more preferable than being alone in the campus commons.
He'd left Sho's dorm room after their encounter (and the squeaky noise of springs began again) only to find that he'd nowhere to go. The library was closed, Toma wasn't in his dorm, the freshmen in the dorm common room were still angry with him over something about shampoo, and there was no way in hell he'd be going to Ohno's house anytime soon.
At least not until he'd apologized to Jun.
An arm flew up against the back of another couch and Nino was startled into an irritated glare, casting ill will and malice toward the owner of said appendage. He couldn't see whomever it was, the back of the couch between them, and the oddly positioned setup of the common room only served to discourage him. He leaned forward, then backward, as far as the cushions would allow him to go, and still couldn't attach an identity to the arm.
Upon further inspection, however, he found that he recognized the hand and its long, elegant fingers. They were what had haunted his dreams and fantasies for the better part of the semester - and Nino found that they were just as appealing when he couldn't see the person they belonged to.
“What are you doing in here, Ohno-kun?” Nino said aloud, sitting back against the couch with a smug grin. The second couch shifted and the hand clutched at the back as Ohno sat up slowly, looking back at Nino with a guilty smile.
“It was cold outside,” Ohno replied simply and that was all Nino needed.
There wasn't much talking when Ohno was around. Instead, Nino put his game on pause, shoving it into the overly large pocket of his parka and moved to the other couch, where Ohno was sitting blankly. Nino turned toward him and their knees were touching ever so slightly with every movement they made. “I...” Nino started, but found he couldn't even begin to decide on what he wanted to say.
As it turned out, he didn't have to.
“You've made a decision,” Ohno said and Nino watched in fascination as the older man's blank stare morphed into a wide grin, his row of pearly white teeth almost outshining Aiba's usual luminosity. It was then that Nino's feelings were cemented. Ohno was someone he would never be able to understand entirely and that was unsettling to Nino, even as he realized it. There was an attractive calm about Ohno that everyone felt, but underneath there was also a layer of unknowing and unfeeling that kept Nino from connecting fully with the mysterious man.
It rubbed off on Nino (and everyone else around) in great waves, like the ocean washing over the shore in shades of blue and white, unexpectedly before it retreated to where it had come from. Ohno was very much untouchable in that way, unreachable for everyone except the fish that ran with him. Nino hated fish though, and was reluctant to compare himself to one, so he supposed this was the only logical conclusion available.
“I have.” Nino nodded and a thought rested on his mind, barely there at first. “How did you know,” because he had no doubt that Ohno really did know, “that I would choose Jun? When did you know?”
“Hm.” Ohno nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips against the remnants of his smile. “There was never any question, was there? Even from the beginning, probably.”
“Wasn't there?”
“There wasn't. Plus, Aiba-chan told me.”
Nino smiled a half-smile. Leave it to Aiba.
“Then why did you never try to deter my...” Nino paused in obvious discomfort. It wasn't easy to say, but he had to know. “...advances?” He expected laughter, a chortle, or a giggle - anything; that's what he would have done if their roles were reversed. Nino ducked his head low and turned to stare out the window as though the barren landscape outside was far more interesting.
“Nino-kun can't help who he likes, or thinks he likes, can he?” Ohno mumbled, more in thought than because he didn't want to answer. Ohno lived in his own thoughts more so than the outside world. “Who am I to stop you?”
“It would have made things a lot easier.”
In a rare moment of lucidity, where the synapses that translated his thoughts into words connected flawlessly, Ohno imparted a bit of the wisdom that was always kept hidden in his eyes. “Nothing worth having is ever easy, is it?”
Nino laughed. “No. It isn't.”
* * *
Nino sank into his seat, rubbing his weary face with one hand as he reached out to touch the bouquet, just to make sure it was still there. They were, of course, as was the knowledge that he'd eventually have to hand them over to Jun along with a reason why.
He wasn’t looking forward to it, absolutely dreading it, and a part of him worried that maybe he wouldn't be forgiven, that maybe he didn't deserve to be forgiven. If it had been the other way around, Nino wasn't sure he could have forgiven someone who'd professed to like him and then turned around and made out (on more than one occasion) with another person. His already dilapidated self-worth wouldn't be able to take it.
He had to though, even if he had to suffer a little (or a lot). Nino wanted Jun, needed Jun, like the corniest of love songs all rolled into one. It was frightening to think that he might not actually succeed, that he'd have to move on without a presence that had been forever within reach ever since he'd first started at this hellhole called university.
It wouldn't be so bad if you'd just shape up and figure things out, the voice sounded again suddenly and Nino reminded it that he had figured things out, thank you very much.
The bouquet rustled as he accidentally jarred the next seat with his knee. Nino eyed it dubiously, wondering if it would do any good in his apology, or if it was simply a wasted attempt in the first place. They were pretty though, he conceded, and Jun could never resist pretty things.
The world around him erupted into loud applause and Nino was startled from his thoughts, looking wildly left and right to see people actually sending the performers a standing ovation. He considered himself lucky to have drowned out the rest of it with the more preferable sound of his own mind, however annoying it could be at times.
As the players came out to take their bows, Nino gathered the bouquet into his arms, letting the bottom of his seat jump to it's upward position as he stood to leave. Quietly, under the darkness of the auditorium, he edged out a side exit, making sure to go unnoticed in the process.
The hall outside was empty and the building looked completely different under the canvas of night, the dark blue walls looking even darker without the light of the sun to cast different shades. Nino knew exactly where he was going though, and didn't need the help of the overhead fluorescent lighting to get there. Down a short staircase and around a corner, he saw that the overly large double doors that led backstage were open and a pool of light spilled out into the hall.
Behind the scenes, stagehands were still at work, maneuvering the curtains and the lighting, and moving props from the last scene to their proper place for storage until they were disassembled over the next few days. Nino hid half in the doorway, peeking in curiously before he allowed himself full access.
He saw Jun right away, standing next to the production manager, both avidly going over a clipboard list to make sure everything was accounted for. Some of the props were on loan, so it was of no doubt that their work was far from over. For a moment Nino simply stood and stared, breathing deeply and willing the sick feeling of his stomach rising into his throat back down to a more comfortable level.
“There's no reason to be so freaking nervous. This is Jun!” he muttered to himself. Yet he couldn't stop the torrent of unwanted feelings from washing over him like acid rain.
“Are you looking for someone?” a voice erupted near him, much louder than Nino would have preferred. He turned to fix whoever it was a glare to end all, but it was too late. An even greater feeling of foreboding ran down his spine and he turned back to lock eyes with Jun. Like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights, Nino could only stare in abashed resignation as Jun said something to the manager. He shifted the flowers behind his back, to hide them, as Jun walked toward him, looking just as befuddled.
“What are you doing here?” Jun asked, his perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They backed into the hallway to have some privacy from the other stagehands.
“I came to see your play. Why else would I be here?” Nino couldn't help the defensive tone that crept into his voice. He mentally winced even as it left his mouth, remembering Sho's warning. “You can be so dense sometimes, Jun-pon.”
Jun nodded, visibly biting his tongue with his jaw set forward. “Hm. Is that so? Well, thanks. I've got a lot of work to do, so...” he trailed off as he turned to go back inside.
“Wait!” Nino grabbed at the younger's sleeve with his free hand, causing Jun to turn back around. This time his brows were set in a curve of curiosity, as thought he'd only just noticed something.
“What are you hiding?” Jun rose up higher to peer over Nino's shoulders and see whatever it was the shorter man was keeping secret. It wasn't much of a feat though, since Jun was naturally taller to begin with.
Slowly, almost painfully, Nino brought the bouquet from behind him, knowing there was no way he could really hide them for long. He hoped they would be enough for their reconciliation. “For you...” he said quietly.
"You seriously brought me flowers?" Jun said in disbelief as he reached out and accepted his purple bouquet, bringing them up to his nose to check the fragrance. His eyes softened, if only marginally. "You do know that flowers are generally given on opening night, right?"
"Look, do you want them or not?" Nino brought his hand back up as though he were going to snatch the flowers back. Jun shook his head in the negative, turning away so that Nino couldn't get to them. The youngest touched the petals, almost reverently, giving himself away.
"At least tell me you bought them yourself,” Jun said and tsked as though he already knew the answer and didn't like it. “You didn't con Sho-kun into doing it, did you?"
Nino scoffed, his feathers ruffled in a most unpleasant way. "Why the hell would I give you flowers from Sho?"
"And you got my favorite orchids,” Jun said appreciatively, his attention still focused on the shades of purple and pink and white. It wasn't long before he looked back up at Nino questioningly. “How? Orchids aren't in season."
"I had to go around to fifty-dozen flower shops before figuring that out.” Nino recounted the afternoon in his head (it had been Ohno's suggestion, oddly enough), calling up a number of floral shops only to find that the people in charge weren't sure what they had. He'd ended up going to each and every one the city had, searching for Jun's favorites. When the last one hadn't had them, Sho had made a helpful suggestion. “Luckily the greenhouse here on campus grows them."
"So you didn't buy them," Jun said, the disappointment not hidden from his voice.
"They're your favorites!" Nino stood, shell-shocked and unsure of what to say next. His mouth hung open as he fought his brain for coherent words, his brows pinched together like he couldn't believe this was actually happening.
Jun took pity on him. "Do they come with a message attached?"
Nino mellowed, closing his eyes in concentration as he kicked the toe of his shoe against the faded blue carpet. He nodded, looking anywhere but at Jun. "Two. First that I'm sorry I've been such an ass lately."
Jun nodded. "You really have been an ass. You're still being an ass, if the direction of this conversation is any indication."
"Will you let me continue?"
"Please."
Nino rubbed the back of his neck, hissing in a breath of air painfully as he tried to think carefully about what he wanted to say. He knew it was going to be difficult, but he hadn't expected it to be this unbearable. Jun was standing just in front of him, tapping his foot against the carpet impatiently and all Nino could do was cough lightly into his own hand.
“Any day now,” Jun stated, looking at the watch on his wrist, juggling the bouquet around to see it. He looked completely emotionless, expressionless, and Nino knew that this was his punishment. Worse yet - he knew he deserved it.
Nino mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "I love you."
"Excuse me?" Jun asked, checking his watch again and lifting his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt at feigning boredom. It was the worst kind of torture Nino had ever had to endure - even worse than fire drills at four in the morning or running out of batteries at midnight when there was at least three more hours in the day to waste gaming.
"I said I love you!" Nino shouted irritably.
"Can't even say it properly," Jun said, unimpressed. “How am I supposed to take you seriously when you act like it's such an inconvenience?” He turned as though he were going to walk away, to leave Nino standing there in the hallway, alone and dumbstruck and feeling completely stupid for his efforts.
Jun was walking, was nearing the entrance and Nino wondered if this was really the end, if this was really going to be the way he lost his best friend and potential lover. Determined with the thought that he'd come this far, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loud enough for those on the inside of the theatre to hear: "I love you and I choose you and I've been absolutely, completely stupid about this whole thing! Happiness, to me, isn't watching a sleeping man on a park bench; it's waking up next to Matsumoto Jun!"
Jun turned to fix him with a glare, though the corners of his mouth turned upward like he was fighting a smile. “You idiot. They can hear you in there.”
“And I'll shout it again, if that's what it takes.” He cupped his hands around his mouth once more. “I love Jun!” he shouted and the echoing sounds of clapping and catcalls could be heard from the entrance.
Jun laughed, loud and clear, and took the few steps forward to reach the shorter man. Placing his free hand atop Nino's head and ruffling his hair a bit, Jun spoke. "That's all I wanted to hear."
"I hate you," Nino responded, though a sense of relief overtook his body and he let his shoulders slump forward.
Jun shook his head, his hand still atop Nino's head. "No, you love me.”
"I do." Nino smiled his own mischievous smirk. In one swift motion he took hold of the fabric of Jun's shirt and pulled the taller man forward, until they were flush against each other and he could feel the shivers of surprise that ran down Jun's body. Their smiles grew smaller the closer they came together, until their lips were touching in one simple, perfect kiss.
All right, the voice in Nino's head sounded; maybe he was wrong; maybe this was happiness.
Epilogue