Arashi fic - Midnight Clear
Title: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Juntoshi, implied Aimiya
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not know or own Arashi.
A/N: I always try to do a good amount of research before I start working on more serious fics, but you'd be surprised at how hard I found it to research the inner workings of a hospital. And be it that I've never once had an extensive stay in one, I had to draw most of my knowledge from what I've watched in Life in the ER and... dare I say it? Scrubs. They're probably not the most reliable of sources, so I hope you'll forgive the inaccuracies.
To those who celebrate, I want to wish a very Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah. To those who don't, I hope you're having a very magical winter season. To everyone, I hope you'll remain safe and warm this frosty time of year. ♥
beta'ed by eva_lee; pictures by kuschelirmel-stock
____________________________________________
“It's Christmas Eve on tonight's talk radio.”
Jun blearily opened one eye and turned over on the top bunk, shaking the frame as he smashed an extra pillow against his ear and let out an audible groan. It was the third time in a twelve-hour time period that Aiba had gotten hold of the intercom, and it seemed that no matter how many times he was told “NO!” (and hit once with a newspaper) he wouldn't be deterred from bringing some sort of holiday cheer into the lives of the lonely staff working in the hospital.
And work Jun had. It was one of the busiest nights of the year and he’d already handled three codes and four broken bones - one of which was from a rushed nurse who seemed intent on crashing into a rolling cart. Things had started to calm down around ten-thirty and Jun decided to treat himself to a well-deserved nap before things started to pick back up, as they were sure to do. Or he would have if Aiba’s voice wasn’t blasting through his ears.
Someone should have told Aiba that it was a hospital, not a mall, and that people were (heaven forbid!) trying to sleep. Jun could only hope that he'd remembered to flip the switch so that the broadcast wouldn't be heard in the children's rooms as well. He knew he shouldn’t ask for too much though, even if it was nearing midnight.
“I hope everyone's having a wonderful night - the time is eleven-thirty; it's now half an hour until Christmas. This is everyone's favorite Aiba Masaki, and if you haven't guessed, I've commandeered the sound system again. No- don't turn it off, Nino! I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas...” A struggle could be heard on the other end, followed closely by a crash and a giggle, and then Aiba was back, jubilant as ever. “Merry Christmas, everyone! Ninomiya-sensei hopes everyone has a good holiday too, even if we're all cooped up together. That's all right though; it's more fun this way, isn't it? He's not even supposed to be working tonight.”
And then the line went dead with an echoing static.
Letting out a sigh that was held in far too long, Jun rolled back to his original position and let the extra pillow fall over the edge of the bed where it landed softly on the floor of the on-call room. Something told him that he shouldn't be annoyed, that it was only expected on the busiest night of the year, but he'd been on duty for a good twenty-four hours now, covering so his senior colleagues could spend the holiday with their families, and he was exhausted and more than a little jealous. Jun didn't have anyone to go home to except a goldfish named Fjord and a pile of pediatrics journals on his desk.
He opened his eyes to stare at the white popcorn ceiling, the light of the moon playing on the shadows and making the room a dismal gray. This was the only downside to the silent nights, to the slow minutes - his continuous internal dialogue. And with the holiday season came a tidal wave of thoughts crashing down on him until he was left with little choice but to swim or drown. It was a difficult decision at times, but the fact that he had so many people (with wide, innocent eyes) depending on him ensured that he could never truly sink to the depths.
Slowly, he allowed his lids to slide shut and counted the long, drawn out exhales that escaped between parted lips. What he needed to do was sleep - even if it was for only an hour; thinking too much would do no good. “Mind in the now, Jun,” he mouthed silently into the darkness. Seconds ticked by with nothing but the sound of own breathing, and just when he thought he'd be able to go to sleep, the fuzzy sound of the loudspeaker forced him back into consciousness. “Paging Matsumoto-sensei to the nurses station. Matsumoto-sensei to the nurses station.”
He should have known there would be no rest.
Even Jun could hear the echo as his designer sneakers (half-price and last season on his salary) came down forcefully against the tiled floor, his eyes fixed on the target ahead. The trek to the nurses’ station seemed to be ten times longer than it normally was, the frustration playing on his mind like nobody's business, and the handmade decorations on the wall only furthered the feeling of irritation that seemed to settle between his eyebrows. He was half-tempted to pull a couple down for good measure; after all, there was no logical reason Santa would be riding a rainbow-colored unicorn. Something told him Aiba was behind that one.
Aiba had been working at the hospital a full year before Jun, seemed to be well liked by the entire staff, and caused more trouble daily than Jun could count on both hands. When he'd heard the older man's breathy voice over the loudspeaker (again), he swore that unless it was important, there would be hell for Aiba to pay.
Or would be if the nurse's station wasn't completely empty upon arrival.
He hit the bell at the top of the counter with a furious slap, palm down and repeatedly, until a mop of brown hair appeared on the other side, slowly standing from a hidden place behind the photocopier. What he was doing there was well beyond reason and it took a moment for the familiar face to recognize Jun, but when Nishikido stood up to full height, he knew he was in some kind of trouble. “Where is Aiba?” Jun asked irritably. He was especially interested to know why the head nurse and his gaggle of underlings had left the janitor as sole occupant of the area.
Nishikido ran a hand through the back of his hair, his smile wide and strained as he leaned forward onto the machine. “They kinda lost one of the kids... no one could go to sleep in the storybook room, so Aiba-san promised them hot chocolate from the cafeteria.”
Jun groaned. “The cafeteria is closed at night.”
“That's why I gave them my keys,” Nishikido continued as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “They were just gonna go down and get the kiddos settled down (“On chocolate?” Jun nearly shrieked) before taking them back to the room. They're all excited about Santa coming in the night; Aiba-san told them Santa gets into the hospital through a very secret area on the roof... and well, Yuuto-kun disappeared not long after that.”
Jun pressed a hand to his forehead. He'd have worry lines after the night was over with for sure. “And no one has thought to issue a Code Adam, why?”
“Because we didn't want to wake the other kids or alert them.” Nishikido shrugged helplessly. “Yuuto-kun's just gone up to the roof to look for Santa. It takes a while to search y'know, since it's a pretty big building.”
“Of all the inept things...” Jun trailed off. It'd be too much to hope that this was all one crazy dream and that he hadn't quite woken up from it yet. He slammed his hand down on the counter, startling the janitor. “If I'm not back in the next ten minutes, you turn on that alarm and you alert the police that we've got a missing child.”
Nishikido gulped and nodded once. “Sure thing.
The elevator could only take him so far up, so when it came to a standstill, Jun impatiently hit the button to open the doors just a wee bit faster. And when there was enough room to move his body through, he took off down the corridor of the eighth floor, toward the fire escape that would lead up to the roof.
Jun rushed by images that seemed to meld together - Santa and his reindeer, candy canes and starlight mints, packages and presents all trimmed in red and green. They lined the walls in a cluttered fashion, something Jun would never have done, and all to amuse the children who were staying on hospital grounds throughout the holiday. But he didn't have time to stop at think about that at the moment; every complaint that normally sat on the tip of his tongue had fled his mind when he knew that one of the children (his patient, no less!) had gone missing.
Yuuto was a special case. Flown in from a car accident a week before, the boy had lost every memory of his life before the moment he woke up with a dozen tubes and wires running out of his small body. A torn ligament in his leg ensured that he'd have to undergo extensive physiotherapy for some time, and he'd be staying there in the storybook room with about nine other children well into New Year's. The boy's father was a little less than enthusiastic about leaving him there through the holidays, but relented that it was more important right now for him to heal physically.
He was six years old and never spoke a full sentence to anyone except the resident play therapist, Ohno, whose education Jun would gladly question if not for the shiny plaque hanging in his office.
Jun nearly ran into a gurney when he reached the staircase, and threw it out of his way, sending it crashing against a column some feet away, before pulling open the metal door and flying up the steps. A gust of wind hit him head on as he came out of the alcove, chilling him to the bone, and he couldn't help but hope the boy was wearing a sweater. He flung himself around the exit and stopped abruptly, his feet skidding to a halt on the concrete.
There, on the top of the tiny roof that housed the staircase, Yuuto sat about six feet up, his feet dangling as he talked with Ohno next to him. “I already called down to the nurses station,” Aiba said as Jun approached, never taking his eyes off the pair conversing so high above. “Yuuto-kun wanted to ask Santa for his memories. He wants to remember his mom and dad. Honestly, I’m amazed he managed to climb up there with his ankle like it is.”
It wasn’t so amazing when Jun noticed a stepladder just next to the dumpster, and a pair of discarded crutches just beyond that. Coupled with the fact that Yuuto had recently learned the art of hopping on one foot, he was convinced that children could do anything.
Ninomiya stood a few feet away, looking worried for the first time since Jun had known him, along with Sakurai-sensei, one of the few other residents on call that evening. Jun followed their gaze back up to Ohno and the boy, and listened carefully over the whistling wind, struggling to make out their conversation.
“You know,” said Ohno, his back hunched and one arm over the boy's small shoulders to keep him warm, “I've never met Santa before, not even once.”
“Didn't you ever stay awake to see him?” the boy asked, carefully watching the night sky for any sight of a sleigh and reindeer.
“Never,” Ohno continued. Jun swore he'd never heard the man talk so much before. “I think I was always too tired. I'd leave him notes though, next to the cookies, and he read them. I wouldn't always get what I asked for... but it was alright, because Santa would always write me back, and somehow it was okay.”
“I don't know if I've met him at all,” Yuuto replied, his eyes downcast as he looked to his own folded hands. The white gauze bandage on his head was a stark contrast under his dark bangs, and Jun couldn't help but worry more. But when the boy let out a long, drawn out sigh, the doctor kept quiet. “I don't know anything at all anymore.”
“Hm.” Ohno seemed to contemplate in his own way, cocking his head to the side as he scrunched his features slightly. “I wonder if that's true though. You know that you've got a mom and a dad. You know that they love you very much. You know that tomorrow is Christmas and they're going to visit.”
The boy kicked his legs against the side of the wall, his face a visible pout. “I guess so...”
Jun had had no idea what the boy always talked about with Ohno, playing with blocks in the corner of the playroom, eating grilled cheese and whispering to one another, but he supposed now he had a better idea. It shocked him, though it was only to be expected that Yuuto would be experiencing some sort of identity crisis. The memories were there, in his young mind, but they weren't connecting, weren't appearing. Nothing, not all the toys or holidays in the world could alleviate that feeling of loneliness.
“It's just...” Yuuto trailed off at first, seemingly oblivious to the team of worried doctors at his feet. “I don't like it. Mommy and Dad seem so sad when I can't remember, even when they show me pictures.”
“I think,” Ohno began with that same faraway look in his eyes, staring off into the starry distance, “that while you're waiting for old memories, it might be better to create new ones. It's a nice time of year to start new ones.”
“That,” Aiba began quietly, so that only Jun could hear him, his face alight with a semi-secret smile, “seems like a very good thing to say. But it's Ohno-kun, so I'm not surprised.”
Jun wasn't so sure, until Yuuto nodded in a manner much more mature than he probably had been before the accident, more mature than any six-year old should ever look. He took the steps forward until he was standing where Yuuto's slipper-clad feet were dangling and the boy looked down in surprise, as though he hadn't noticed there were other people there. “Come on,” said Jun. His expression was nearly unreadable, in a confusing way, more than one emotion discernible on his features. “Let's get you back inside, okay?”
Yuuto warily looked back to Ohno, unsure of how to proceed, or if he even wanted to go back with Jun at all. He was hesitant to accept the arms that Jun held up, no matter how inviting they seemed. Ohno leaned forward and spoke just loud enough that the three of them could hear, “I'll tell you a secret. Jun-kun might seem scary, but he's actually the kindest person here.”
A warm feeling settled in Jun's stomach, despite the biting wind.
“Now, care to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to take the children for hot chocolate in the middle of the night?” Jun sat his cup of coffee on the table between Aiba and Nino a little too forcefully. It splattered around the edges and left a ring at the bottom that would more than likely stain the surface, but it wasn't as though there weren't already a thousand on the battered table. He placed his hands on his hips for added effect, but it didn't seem to faze the two before him.
Aiba stared up with innocent eyes, blinking back his confusion. “We didn't take all the children,” he countered jovially. “Just the ones that said they felt like taking a walk. We took more cocoa back on a rolling cart for the ones who couldn't. Half of them were asleep anyway.”
“They all should have been asleep,” Jun muttered and rolled his eyes. There would be no reasoning with Aiba tonight, he figured, so he chanced a glance around the staff lounge to find that they were the only three present.
After they'd taken Yuuto back to the storybook room, they'd finally gotten all the children to sleep, calm and quiet and ready for morning to come. The only thing Aiba seemed to leave out from his many story sessions about Santa Claus was that the jolly old man wouldn't visit them if they weren't sleeping. It would have been useful information about three hours earlier, but Jun refrained from voicing it.
“They were just excited, Matsujun.” Aiba shrugged and held up his hands as though it were completely out of his control. Jun knew better. “It's Christmas. Can you blame them?”
“Sensei,” Jun corrected.
The nurse grinned mischievously, scrunching his nose and the lines at the corners of his eyes. Sometimes his smile was too bright for his own good. “Matsujun-sensei.” He let out a breathy laugh and it took all Jun had not to reach forward and smack the back of his head.
Nino cleared his throat and Jun had no option but to give the shorter man his attention. His eyes were teasing and instantly Jun had a bad feeling wash over him. “It was Oh-chan who found the kid, you know. Got there before any of us did,” Nino said nonchalantly, setting his elbows on the table as he perched his chin on folded hands. “It was really quite impressive, wouldn't you say, J?”
Jun disregarded the newest nickname. “Ohno-kun has a soft spot for children. It's why he's so good at what he does. I'm honestly not surprised he was the first one there.”
Nino let out a muffled giggle, hiding the sound behind the palm of his hand. “I don't think the children are the only ones that Oh-chan has a soft spot for, if you know what I mean, Jun-kun.”
Jun narrowed his eyes dangerously and snatched his paper cup back up, though the bottom had become a tad soggy. Before he skulked back out the doorway with a struck nerve, he turned back with possibly the weakest retort he could muster: “You're an ultrasound technician. You aren't even supposed to be working tonight.”
Nino laughed aloud in a shrill tone that would haunt Jun for the rest of the night.
A rotating device in the middle of the room cast shining constellations all across the ceiling and walls, and across the children's faces, giving them a sparkling visage that matched the light in their smiles. They weren't smiling when Jun came in to check on them at two in the morning, of course, but their contented sighs as they slept were the next best thing. Jun didn't enjoy the lack of sleep that came with round the clock shifts, but if he had to proclaim a favorite part of the day, this would probably be it.
They were healing as they slept, drawing in more energy with each soft little snore that escaped their tiny mouths, and that was the best medicine of all. They were a peaceful presence in this state, washing away all of Jun's worries, all his exhaustion. He wasn't a person who particularly cared for children, he wasn't like Ohno, but he liked helping them in this capacity - in curing them, when he could. Jun hadn't entered the profession with any intent on going into pediatrics, but somehow one stint as an intern in a children's hospital had sealed the deal. Their energy, their spirit was much more infectious than any adult patient he'd ever had.
It didn't stop most of them from looking at him like he was the baddest, scariest person they had ever seen. That was where Ohno came in most of the time, to calm them down and play or talk while Jun worked around them.
Jun brushed Yuuto's long bangs out of his eyes. He didn't know what he'd do if something happened to one of his kids in the storybook room.
He was lucky that once again, Ohno had come to the rescue. Jun didn't know how he did it, how he could have such a connection with children to where they trusted him implicitly. It was odd, but then again, Ohno had always been somewhat of a mystery to him. Sometimes it drove Jun crazy, until he was determined to get to the bottom of how Ohno ticked. But then, just when Jun thought he'd figured the older male out, Ohno would throw something new down on the table, and it was back to square one completely.
Yuuto's eyes opened a fraction, and Jun realized he'd been ruffling the boy's hair softly while his thoughts were occupied. Just when he thought to tell the boy to go back to sleep, Yuuto smiled up at him, closing his eyes and snuggling up against his pillow once more.
It appeared that since Ohno trusted Jun, Yuuto had decided to as well.
For some unknown reason, that made Jun smile. He moved from where he stood by the boy's bed and carefully crept back to the door in silence so he wouldn't wake the other children.
She'd finally stopped screaming, awake and oddly alert in her bed; it'd been frightening before, as she stared blankly at Jun without emotion, without feeling. Emi-chan was prone to night terrors, but they'd progressed significantly since she was admitted to the hospital three days ago with pneumonia. She had her own room away from the other children, which Aiba had painstakingly decorated in paper stars and hearts on one of his days off; but she looked so completely lost in that big room by herself, looking up at the doctor checking her pulse.
“What was it this time?” he asked, a little more gruffly than he'd intended. He usually didn't act as therapist to the children, leaving that up to the nurses and other caregivers, but until Toma came back with some water, there was no other choice. Her heartbeat was racing and her hands were clammy, tears threatened to spill down her cheeks from glassy eyes.
He could only imagine the confusion that was going on in her mind, having been waken up at an ungodly hour from a nightmare wherein she was screaming and thrashing about. Jun still had to redo the IV in her arm before she could go back to sleep, if she could go back to sleep. She wouldn't answer his question; she only continued to look up at him, her posture rigid and stiff, making her appear colder than her normal eight-year old self.
“You can tell me, Emi-chan,” Jun continued, his voice softer, quieter, as though he were asking her to share a secret between them. The surgical mask he wore muffled his voice and it only added to her disconcertion.
That's when the waterworks started. She let out tiny little sobs as tears fell from her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hands.
“No, no, don't cry,” Jun tried, but he was never very good at this kind of thing. “There's no reason to cry, Emi-chan. Toma-kun will be back with some water for you. Isn't that nice?”
Toma had been the one who found her, and had quickly called the nearest person (Aiba) in before Emi's doctor (Sho) had been paged. But Sho was handling a code blue emergency down the hall with a handful of nurses and the attending, Kokubun-sensei. Normally Jun didn't like to take on situations involving nightmares and/or crying, but something about the way Ohno had comforted Yuuto made him want to try a little bit harder from now on. However, all the good intentions he had couldn't get her to stop crying.
“It's okay Emi-chan,” Jun cooed pathetically and reached out a hand to pat her head. He couldn't help but frown, his eyebrows knitting together over the bridge of his nose and making him look that much more severe. “It's almost Christmas morning and I'm sure Santa will be here soon, so you should settle down and go back to sleep.”
“I... I...” She tried to speak between hiccups, terrified, eyes wide and trembling. “I want my mommy!”
Right as Jun was about to panic, the door opened and he turned quickly, expecting to see Toma with a glass of water; what he saw was a highly perplexed Ohno, who gravitated straight to Emi's outstretched hands. And just like that she seemed to calm down, pressing her tear-soaked face against Ohno's side as he patted her back soothingly. “Ne, what happened, Emi-chan?” he asked in his soft, quiet voice.
She shook her head as she leaned further against him and mumbled that she didn't remember, as most children who experienced night terrors didn't. Her hiccups subsided after a few more moments and she let her eyes flutter shut soon after.
Jun was stunned. “H-how did you?” he mouthed.
Ohno merely smiled at him, an unmistakable light shining in his eyes. He didn't speak, didn't explain, but just the same, Jun seemed to understand entirely in the way Ohno held his gaze. For the second time that night, Jun felt something warm him from within.
“Why are you following me?” Jun spun around beside the counter, fixing his eyes on Nino's smirking form. The shorter man had been walking just behind him for some feet, and it seemed to have some hidden meaning to Jun. Whatever it was, he wished the mischievous little imp would just have out with it. “Or do you just like watching me walk?”
“While I've no doubt that many a people around here get their jollies from watching your girly sashay (I know, I've heard them talk), rest assured that's not why I'm here, Jun-kun.” Nino rested an arm against the surface, tapping the top with his fingertips in a rhythmic pattern.
“Why are you here?” Jun asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You aren't even supposed to be working today.”
“Christmas Eve is Masaki's birthday,” Nino answered simply, staring up at the line where the ceiling met the wall with his secretive smile. “But we were talking about you, not me. You've been wandering up and down his hallway for a while now. Makes me wonder if you're not looking for something, or someone.”
Jun had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn't appreciate the insinuation. “I'm just walking. We finally got Emi-chan back to sleep some time ago, her IV line is back in and things are looking good. I'm just a little tired and trying to keep awake, is all.”
Nino turned to look right at him. “And by we, you mean you and Oh-chan, right?”
“He and I were the only ones there until Toma came back,” Jun replied. He honestly had no idea what Nino was going on about (or at least he liked pretend he didn't), but the cryptic way in which the shorter man was speaking really irked Jun to no end. “If you've got something to say, Ninomiya, just say it. I don't have time to be standing around gossiping with you.”
Jun ignored the voice in his head that said he had all the time in the world.
“I've just been noticing things, is all.” Nino shrugged casually. “Like how you two always seem to catch each other's eyes, even from across the room, how you can't speak a full sentence in front of him. It's all rather sickening, and I know this'll probably only make it worse, but I'm a giver like that.”
Completely deadpan, Jun blinked slowly in an effort to get his brain to catch up. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“You're infatuated, Jun.” Nino let out a small laugh, similar to the one from earlier that still rang through Jun's ears. “If nothing else, you've got to admit that Oh-chan is awful endearing like that.”
Ohno was puzzling - someone to figure out though Jun knew he probably never could, not even with all the years left in his life. The man was also strangely simple in his ways, from thinking to speaking, and even his actions. He seemed to be a walking contradiction, uncomplicated on the surface, but with a depth that seemed to go on for light-years just behind his eyes. Jun would be lying if he said it wasn't captivating at times.
That wasn't something he'd be telling Nino anytime soon.
It was more apparent to Jun on that night - not because it was supposedly a magic time of year, but because he'd been given the rare opportunity to slow down and see it. He felt he had a more clear understanding of Ohno, after watching him interact with the children, though the distance between them was still rather opaque. The fuzzy lines were becoming bolder and the colors more vibrant.
“Good,” Nino clapped Jun's shoulder as he passed by, “at least you're thinking now.”
The door closed with a soft click as Jun pulled it to behind him. He was determined to cash in on the hour of sleep he'd been promised earlier, but just as he he was about to climb back up to his preferred top bunk, he noticed there was someone in the bottom. He hadn't remembered Sho (or anyone else for that matter) looking as tired as he felt; and no one had been working as long as Jun, except for Aiba, who had long since taken a nap with his head nestled in Nino's lap for all to see.
He knew it was some kind of invasion of privacy, but Jun couldn't help it when he craned his head down to get a closer look. His eyes widened in the darkness when he spotted Ohno lazily passed out, lips parted every so slightly and letting out soft puffs of air as his chest moved up and down. The sleeping man had one arm haphazardly tossed over his stomach, while the other supported his head from underneath, and Jun found he could not look away. The urge to climb in beside him and soak up some of the undoubted warmth would not settle, and Jun had to force himself to blink.
It had been far too long a night; clearly his mind was doing weird things.
But then Ohno made a light, airy sound, and Jun's focus returned to find that the older man's eyes were open and trained on him. “What are you doing in here?” Jun asked dumbly, for lack of anything better to say, and instantly felt like kicking himself for it.
Ohno blinked slowly, his gaze untrained and somewhat shaking. “I don't feel too well,” he responded quietly. He sat up, his back hunched as he tried not to hit his head on the bunk above, and crossed his legs, settling his hands uselessly in his lap. He was tired, Jun could see, and even though he usually looked a bit sleepy, this was due to something else.
Jun knelt down beside the bed, pressing one palm against Ohno's forehead, and the other softly against his cheek. His motions were careful, attentive, and whether Ohno seemed to notice at all, he didn't know. “Well, you don't feel like you have a fever, but it's not surprising you'd come down with something once in a while. You really should learn to wear a surgical mask when you're around the children.”
Ohno pouted as Jun removed his hands. “You can't see a smile under those.”
“Regardless, if you're getting sick, maybe someone should take a look at you.” Jun took his hand and tried to pull him up, but Ohno wordlessly resisted and motioned for Jun to sit beside him. “Why are you even here?” Jun asked.
“Because you're here. No one needs to be alone at Christmas.”
The space was cramped, and Ohno huddled against him, proving to Jun that he was as warm as he looked. For the first time, Jun had a chance to see the man up close - really up close if the way Ohno laid his head against Jun's shoulder was any indication. He was all soft lines, long and smooth like his voice, and for once Jun thought that maybe there was nothing to figure out about the man next to him. Maybe Ohno was Ohno, and that's all there was to know.
Jun wrapped an arm around his shoulder, holding Ohno somewhat upright as the shorter man began to doze again. He'd intended to sleep, but this, Ohno against him, was far more relaxing, more peaceful than anything he'd felt in a long time. It was the pull that Ohno offered to everyone, children and co-workers, and undoubtedly everyone he'd ever met.
“You're a strange one, you know that?” Jun asked, and he'd meant for it to go unanswered as Ohno sank deeper into his nap. But then Ohno issued a quick “hm?” and cracked one eye open to peer up at Jun confusedly.
The doctor felt his tongue go numb, thick and unmoving in his mouth though a million thoughts were whirling round in his mind. Ohno's boyish face looked back at him with sleepy eyes and an unexpected fondness. His long lashes fluttered closed, splaying across his tanned cheeks, and Jun knew exactly what he wanted to do. He leaned in forward, their lips almost touching, and then-
Ohno yawned. “Were you saying something, Jun-kun?”
“No,” Jun couldn't help but smile as he spoke. He closed the distance between them and placed a lingering kiss on Ohno's forehead, just below his hairline. “Merry Christmas, Ohno-kun.”
“Merry Christmas, Jun-kun.”
“It's Christmas Day on talk radio. This is everyone's favorite Aiba Masaki, and I hope you're all having a wonderful holiday with the people you love. I know I am- No, Nino, don't turn it off! I just want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! No, we'll open presents when we go home later. Y'know, Santa can still take yours back if you're going to be naughty. Nino! That kind of language is not suitable for talk radio - and I totally did not mean that kind of naughty.
Well, when you put it that way... Merry Christmas, everyone!”
♥
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Juntoshi, implied Aimiya
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not know or own Arashi.
A/N: I always try to do a good amount of research before I start working on more serious fics, but you'd be surprised at how hard I found it to research the inner workings of a hospital. And be it that I've never once had an extensive stay in one, I had to draw most of my knowledge from what I've watched in Life in the ER and... dare I say it? Scrubs. They're probably not the most reliable of sources, so I hope you'll forgive the inaccuracies.
To those who celebrate, I want to wish a very Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah. To those who don't, I hope you're having a very magical winter season. To everyone, I hope you'll remain safe and warm this frosty time of year. ♥
beta'ed by eva_lee; pictures by kuschelirmel-stock
____________________________________________
“It's Christmas Eve on tonight's talk radio.”
Jun blearily opened one eye and turned over on the top bunk, shaking the frame as he smashed an extra pillow against his ear and let out an audible groan. It was the third time in a twelve-hour time period that Aiba had gotten hold of the intercom, and it seemed that no matter how many times he was told “NO!” (and hit once with a newspaper) he wouldn't be deterred from bringing some sort of holiday cheer into the lives of the lonely staff working in the hospital.
And work Jun had. It was one of the busiest nights of the year and he’d already handled three codes and four broken bones - one of which was from a rushed nurse who seemed intent on crashing into a rolling cart. Things had started to calm down around ten-thirty and Jun decided to treat himself to a well-deserved nap before things started to pick back up, as they were sure to do. Or he would have if Aiba’s voice wasn’t blasting through his ears.
Someone should have told Aiba that it was a hospital, not a mall, and that people were (heaven forbid!) trying to sleep. Jun could only hope that he'd remembered to flip the switch so that the broadcast wouldn't be heard in the children's rooms as well. He knew he shouldn’t ask for too much though, even if it was nearing midnight.
“I hope everyone's having a wonderful night - the time is eleven-thirty; it's now half an hour until Christmas. This is everyone's favorite Aiba Masaki, and if you haven't guessed, I've commandeered the sound system again. No- don't turn it off, Nino! I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas...” A struggle could be heard on the other end, followed closely by a crash and a giggle, and then Aiba was back, jubilant as ever. “Merry Christmas, everyone! Ninomiya-sensei hopes everyone has a good holiday too, even if we're all cooped up together. That's all right though; it's more fun this way, isn't it? He's not even supposed to be working tonight.”
And then the line went dead with an echoing static.
Letting out a sigh that was held in far too long, Jun rolled back to his original position and let the extra pillow fall over the edge of the bed where it landed softly on the floor of the on-call room. Something told him that he shouldn't be annoyed, that it was only expected on the busiest night of the year, but he'd been on duty for a good twenty-four hours now, covering so his senior colleagues could spend the holiday with their families, and he was exhausted and more than a little jealous. Jun didn't have anyone to go home to except a goldfish named Fjord and a pile of pediatrics journals on his desk.
He opened his eyes to stare at the white popcorn ceiling, the light of the moon playing on the shadows and making the room a dismal gray. This was the only downside to the silent nights, to the slow minutes - his continuous internal dialogue. And with the holiday season came a tidal wave of thoughts crashing down on him until he was left with little choice but to swim or drown. It was a difficult decision at times, but the fact that he had so many people (with wide, innocent eyes) depending on him ensured that he could never truly sink to the depths.
Slowly, he allowed his lids to slide shut and counted the long, drawn out exhales that escaped between parted lips. What he needed to do was sleep - even if it was for only an hour; thinking too much would do no good. “Mind in the now, Jun,” he mouthed silently into the darkness. Seconds ticked by with nothing but the sound of own breathing, and just when he thought he'd be able to go to sleep, the fuzzy sound of the loudspeaker forced him back into consciousness. “Paging Matsumoto-sensei to the nurses station. Matsumoto-sensei to the nurses station.”
He should have known there would be no rest.
Even Jun could hear the echo as his designer sneakers (half-price and last season on his salary) came down forcefully against the tiled floor, his eyes fixed on the target ahead. The trek to the nurses’ station seemed to be ten times longer than it normally was, the frustration playing on his mind like nobody's business, and the handmade decorations on the wall only furthered the feeling of irritation that seemed to settle between his eyebrows. He was half-tempted to pull a couple down for good measure; after all, there was no logical reason Santa would be riding a rainbow-colored unicorn. Something told him Aiba was behind that one.
Aiba had been working at the hospital a full year before Jun, seemed to be well liked by the entire staff, and caused more trouble daily than Jun could count on both hands. When he'd heard the older man's breathy voice over the loudspeaker (again), he swore that unless it was important, there would be hell for Aiba to pay.
Or would be if the nurse's station wasn't completely empty upon arrival.
He hit the bell at the top of the counter with a furious slap, palm down and repeatedly, until a mop of brown hair appeared on the other side, slowly standing from a hidden place behind the photocopier. What he was doing there was well beyond reason and it took a moment for the familiar face to recognize Jun, but when Nishikido stood up to full height, he knew he was in some kind of trouble. “Where is Aiba?” Jun asked irritably. He was especially interested to know why the head nurse and his gaggle of underlings had left the janitor as sole occupant of the area.
Nishikido ran a hand through the back of his hair, his smile wide and strained as he leaned forward onto the machine. “They kinda lost one of the kids... no one could go to sleep in the storybook room, so Aiba-san promised them hot chocolate from the cafeteria.”
Jun groaned. “The cafeteria is closed at night.”
“That's why I gave them my keys,” Nishikido continued as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “They were just gonna go down and get the kiddos settled down (“On chocolate?” Jun nearly shrieked) before taking them back to the room. They're all excited about Santa coming in the night; Aiba-san told them Santa gets into the hospital through a very secret area on the roof... and well, Yuuto-kun disappeared not long after that.”
Jun pressed a hand to his forehead. He'd have worry lines after the night was over with for sure. “And no one has thought to issue a Code Adam, why?”
“Because we didn't want to wake the other kids or alert them.” Nishikido shrugged helplessly. “Yuuto-kun's just gone up to the roof to look for Santa. It takes a while to search y'know, since it's a pretty big building.”
“Of all the inept things...” Jun trailed off. It'd be too much to hope that this was all one crazy dream and that he hadn't quite woken up from it yet. He slammed his hand down on the counter, startling the janitor. “If I'm not back in the next ten minutes, you turn on that alarm and you alert the police that we've got a missing child.”
Nishikido gulped and nodded once. “Sure thing.
The elevator could only take him so far up, so when it came to a standstill, Jun impatiently hit the button to open the doors just a wee bit faster. And when there was enough room to move his body through, he took off down the corridor of the eighth floor, toward the fire escape that would lead up to the roof.
Jun rushed by images that seemed to meld together - Santa and his reindeer, candy canes and starlight mints, packages and presents all trimmed in red and green. They lined the walls in a cluttered fashion, something Jun would never have done, and all to amuse the children who were staying on hospital grounds throughout the holiday. But he didn't have time to stop at think about that at the moment; every complaint that normally sat on the tip of his tongue had fled his mind when he knew that one of the children (his patient, no less!) had gone missing.
Yuuto was a special case. Flown in from a car accident a week before, the boy had lost every memory of his life before the moment he woke up with a dozen tubes and wires running out of his small body. A torn ligament in his leg ensured that he'd have to undergo extensive physiotherapy for some time, and he'd be staying there in the storybook room with about nine other children well into New Year's. The boy's father was a little less than enthusiastic about leaving him there through the holidays, but relented that it was more important right now for him to heal physically.
He was six years old and never spoke a full sentence to anyone except the resident play therapist, Ohno, whose education Jun would gladly question if not for the shiny plaque hanging in his office.
Jun nearly ran into a gurney when he reached the staircase, and threw it out of his way, sending it crashing against a column some feet away, before pulling open the metal door and flying up the steps. A gust of wind hit him head on as he came out of the alcove, chilling him to the bone, and he couldn't help but hope the boy was wearing a sweater. He flung himself around the exit and stopped abruptly, his feet skidding to a halt on the concrete.
There, on the top of the tiny roof that housed the staircase, Yuuto sat about six feet up, his feet dangling as he talked with Ohno next to him. “I already called down to the nurses station,” Aiba said as Jun approached, never taking his eyes off the pair conversing so high above. “Yuuto-kun wanted to ask Santa for his memories. He wants to remember his mom and dad. Honestly, I’m amazed he managed to climb up there with his ankle like it is.”
It wasn’t so amazing when Jun noticed a stepladder just next to the dumpster, and a pair of discarded crutches just beyond that. Coupled with the fact that Yuuto had recently learned the art of hopping on one foot, he was convinced that children could do anything.
Ninomiya stood a few feet away, looking worried for the first time since Jun had known him, along with Sakurai-sensei, one of the few other residents on call that evening. Jun followed their gaze back up to Ohno and the boy, and listened carefully over the whistling wind, struggling to make out their conversation.
“You know,” said Ohno, his back hunched and one arm over the boy's small shoulders to keep him warm, “I've never met Santa before, not even once.”
“Didn't you ever stay awake to see him?” the boy asked, carefully watching the night sky for any sight of a sleigh and reindeer.
“Never,” Ohno continued. Jun swore he'd never heard the man talk so much before. “I think I was always too tired. I'd leave him notes though, next to the cookies, and he read them. I wouldn't always get what I asked for... but it was alright, because Santa would always write me back, and somehow it was okay.”
“I don't know if I've met him at all,” Yuuto replied, his eyes downcast as he looked to his own folded hands. The white gauze bandage on his head was a stark contrast under his dark bangs, and Jun couldn't help but worry more. But when the boy let out a long, drawn out sigh, the doctor kept quiet. “I don't know anything at all anymore.”
“Hm.” Ohno seemed to contemplate in his own way, cocking his head to the side as he scrunched his features slightly. “I wonder if that's true though. You know that you've got a mom and a dad. You know that they love you very much. You know that tomorrow is Christmas and they're going to visit.”
The boy kicked his legs against the side of the wall, his face a visible pout. “I guess so...”
Jun had had no idea what the boy always talked about with Ohno, playing with blocks in the corner of the playroom, eating grilled cheese and whispering to one another, but he supposed now he had a better idea. It shocked him, though it was only to be expected that Yuuto would be experiencing some sort of identity crisis. The memories were there, in his young mind, but they weren't connecting, weren't appearing. Nothing, not all the toys or holidays in the world could alleviate that feeling of loneliness.
“It's just...” Yuuto trailed off at first, seemingly oblivious to the team of worried doctors at his feet. “I don't like it. Mommy and Dad seem so sad when I can't remember, even when they show me pictures.”
“I think,” Ohno began with that same faraway look in his eyes, staring off into the starry distance, “that while you're waiting for old memories, it might be better to create new ones. It's a nice time of year to start new ones.”
“That,” Aiba began quietly, so that only Jun could hear him, his face alight with a semi-secret smile, “seems like a very good thing to say. But it's Ohno-kun, so I'm not surprised.”
Jun wasn't so sure, until Yuuto nodded in a manner much more mature than he probably had been before the accident, more mature than any six-year old should ever look. He took the steps forward until he was standing where Yuuto's slipper-clad feet were dangling and the boy looked down in surprise, as though he hadn't noticed there were other people there. “Come on,” said Jun. His expression was nearly unreadable, in a confusing way, more than one emotion discernible on his features. “Let's get you back inside, okay?”
Yuuto warily looked back to Ohno, unsure of how to proceed, or if he even wanted to go back with Jun at all. He was hesitant to accept the arms that Jun held up, no matter how inviting they seemed. Ohno leaned forward and spoke just loud enough that the three of them could hear, “I'll tell you a secret. Jun-kun might seem scary, but he's actually the kindest person here.”
A warm feeling settled in Jun's stomach, despite the biting wind.
“Now, care to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to take the children for hot chocolate in the middle of the night?” Jun sat his cup of coffee on the table between Aiba and Nino a little too forcefully. It splattered around the edges and left a ring at the bottom that would more than likely stain the surface, but it wasn't as though there weren't already a thousand on the battered table. He placed his hands on his hips for added effect, but it didn't seem to faze the two before him.
Aiba stared up with innocent eyes, blinking back his confusion. “We didn't take all the children,” he countered jovially. “Just the ones that said they felt like taking a walk. We took more cocoa back on a rolling cart for the ones who couldn't. Half of them were asleep anyway.”
“They all should have been asleep,” Jun muttered and rolled his eyes. There would be no reasoning with Aiba tonight, he figured, so he chanced a glance around the staff lounge to find that they were the only three present.
After they'd taken Yuuto back to the storybook room, they'd finally gotten all the children to sleep, calm and quiet and ready for morning to come. The only thing Aiba seemed to leave out from his many story sessions about Santa Claus was that the jolly old man wouldn't visit them if they weren't sleeping. It would have been useful information about three hours earlier, but Jun refrained from voicing it.
“They were just excited, Matsujun.” Aiba shrugged and held up his hands as though it were completely out of his control. Jun knew better. “It's Christmas. Can you blame them?”
“Sensei,” Jun corrected.
The nurse grinned mischievously, scrunching his nose and the lines at the corners of his eyes. Sometimes his smile was too bright for his own good. “Matsujun-sensei.” He let out a breathy laugh and it took all Jun had not to reach forward and smack the back of his head.
Nino cleared his throat and Jun had no option but to give the shorter man his attention. His eyes were teasing and instantly Jun had a bad feeling wash over him. “It was Oh-chan who found the kid, you know. Got there before any of us did,” Nino said nonchalantly, setting his elbows on the table as he perched his chin on folded hands. “It was really quite impressive, wouldn't you say, J?”
Jun disregarded the newest nickname. “Ohno-kun has a soft spot for children. It's why he's so good at what he does. I'm honestly not surprised he was the first one there.”
Nino let out a muffled giggle, hiding the sound behind the palm of his hand. “I don't think the children are the only ones that Oh-chan has a soft spot for, if you know what I mean, Jun-kun.”
Jun narrowed his eyes dangerously and snatched his paper cup back up, though the bottom had become a tad soggy. Before he skulked back out the doorway with a struck nerve, he turned back with possibly the weakest retort he could muster: “You're an ultrasound technician. You aren't even supposed to be working tonight.”
Nino laughed aloud in a shrill tone that would haunt Jun for the rest of the night.
A rotating device in the middle of the room cast shining constellations all across the ceiling and walls, and across the children's faces, giving them a sparkling visage that matched the light in their smiles. They weren't smiling when Jun came in to check on them at two in the morning, of course, but their contented sighs as they slept were the next best thing. Jun didn't enjoy the lack of sleep that came with round the clock shifts, but if he had to proclaim a favorite part of the day, this would probably be it.
They were healing as they slept, drawing in more energy with each soft little snore that escaped their tiny mouths, and that was the best medicine of all. They were a peaceful presence in this state, washing away all of Jun's worries, all his exhaustion. He wasn't a person who particularly cared for children, he wasn't like Ohno, but he liked helping them in this capacity - in curing them, when he could. Jun hadn't entered the profession with any intent on going into pediatrics, but somehow one stint as an intern in a children's hospital had sealed the deal. Their energy, their spirit was much more infectious than any adult patient he'd ever had.
It didn't stop most of them from looking at him like he was the baddest, scariest person they had ever seen. That was where Ohno came in most of the time, to calm them down and play or talk while Jun worked around them.
Jun brushed Yuuto's long bangs out of his eyes. He didn't know what he'd do if something happened to one of his kids in the storybook room.
He was lucky that once again, Ohno had come to the rescue. Jun didn't know how he did it, how he could have such a connection with children to where they trusted him implicitly. It was odd, but then again, Ohno had always been somewhat of a mystery to him. Sometimes it drove Jun crazy, until he was determined to get to the bottom of how Ohno ticked. But then, just when Jun thought he'd figured the older male out, Ohno would throw something new down on the table, and it was back to square one completely.
Yuuto's eyes opened a fraction, and Jun realized he'd been ruffling the boy's hair softly while his thoughts were occupied. Just when he thought to tell the boy to go back to sleep, Yuuto smiled up at him, closing his eyes and snuggling up against his pillow once more.
It appeared that since Ohno trusted Jun, Yuuto had decided to as well.
For some unknown reason, that made Jun smile. He moved from where he stood by the boy's bed and carefully crept back to the door in silence so he wouldn't wake the other children.
She'd finally stopped screaming, awake and oddly alert in her bed; it'd been frightening before, as she stared blankly at Jun without emotion, without feeling. Emi-chan was prone to night terrors, but they'd progressed significantly since she was admitted to the hospital three days ago with pneumonia. She had her own room away from the other children, which Aiba had painstakingly decorated in paper stars and hearts on one of his days off; but she looked so completely lost in that big room by herself, looking up at the doctor checking her pulse.
“What was it this time?” he asked, a little more gruffly than he'd intended. He usually didn't act as therapist to the children, leaving that up to the nurses and other caregivers, but until Toma came back with some water, there was no other choice. Her heartbeat was racing and her hands were clammy, tears threatened to spill down her cheeks from glassy eyes.
He could only imagine the confusion that was going on in her mind, having been waken up at an ungodly hour from a nightmare wherein she was screaming and thrashing about. Jun still had to redo the IV in her arm before she could go back to sleep, if she could go back to sleep. She wouldn't answer his question; she only continued to look up at him, her posture rigid and stiff, making her appear colder than her normal eight-year old self.
“You can tell me, Emi-chan,” Jun continued, his voice softer, quieter, as though he were asking her to share a secret between them. The surgical mask he wore muffled his voice and it only added to her disconcertion.
That's when the waterworks started. She let out tiny little sobs as tears fell from her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hands.
“No, no, don't cry,” Jun tried, but he was never very good at this kind of thing. “There's no reason to cry, Emi-chan. Toma-kun will be back with some water for you. Isn't that nice?”
Toma had been the one who found her, and had quickly called the nearest person (Aiba) in before Emi's doctor (Sho) had been paged. But Sho was handling a code blue emergency down the hall with a handful of nurses and the attending, Kokubun-sensei. Normally Jun didn't like to take on situations involving nightmares and/or crying, but something about the way Ohno had comforted Yuuto made him want to try a little bit harder from now on. However, all the good intentions he had couldn't get her to stop crying.
“It's okay Emi-chan,” Jun cooed pathetically and reached out a hand to pat her head. He couldn't help but frown, his eyebrows knitting together over the bridge of his nose and making him look that much more severe. “It's almost Christmas morning and I'm sure Santa will be here soon, so you should settle down and go back to sleep.”
“I... I...” She tried to speak between hiccups, terrified, eyes wide and trembling. “I want my mommy!”
Right as Jun was about to panic, the door opened and he turned quickly, expecting to see Toma with a glass of water; what he saw was a highly perplexed Ohno, who gravitated straight to Emi's outstretched hands. And just like that she seemed to calm down, pressing her tear-soaked face against Ohno's side as he patted her back soothingly. “Ne, what happened, Emi-chan?” he asked in his soft, quiet voice.
She shook her head as she leaned further against him and mumbled that she didn't remember, as most children who experienced night terrors didn't. Her hiccups subsided after a few more moments and she let her eyes flutter shut soon after.
Jun was stunned. “H-how did you?” he mouthed.
Ohno merely smiled at him, an unmistakable light shining in his eyes. He didn't speak, didn't explain, but just the same, Jun seemed to understand entirely in the way Ohno held his gaze. For the second time that night, Jun felt something warm him from within.
“Why are you following me?” Jun spun around beside the counter, fixing his eyes on Nino's smirking form. The shorter man had been walking just behind him for some feet, and it seemed to have some hidden meaning to Jun. Whatever it was, he wished the mischievous little imp would just have out with it. “Or do you just like watching me walk?”
“While I've no doubt that many a people around here get their jollies from watching your girly sashay (I know, I've heard them talk), rest assured that's not why I'm here, Jun-kun.” Nino rested an arm against the surface, tapping the top with his fingertips in a rhythmic pattern.
“Why are you here?” Jun asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You aren't even supposed to be working today.”
“Christmas Eve is Masaki's birthday,” Nino answered simply, staring up at the line where the ceiling met the wall with his secretive smile. “But we were talking about you, not me. You've been wandering up and down his hallway for a while now. Makes me wonder if you're not looking for something, or someone.”
Jun had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn't appreciate the insinuation. “I'm just walking. We finally got Emi-chan back to sleep some time ago, her IV line is back in and things are looking good. I'm just a little tired and trying to keep awake, is all.”
Nino turned to look right at him. “And by we, you mean you and Oh-chan, right?”
“He and I were the only ones there until Toma came back,” Jun replied. He honestly had no idea what Nino was going on about (or at least he liked pretend he didn't), but the cryptic way in which the shorter man was speaking really irked Jun to no end. “If you've got something to say, Ninomiya, just say it. I don't have time to be standing around gossiping with you.”
Jun ignored the voice in his head that said he had all the time in the world.
“I've just been noticing things, is all.” Nino shrugged casually. “Like how you two always seem to catch each other's eyes, even from across the room, how you can't speak a full sentence in front of him. It's all rather sickening, and I know this'll probably only make it worse, but I'm a giver like that.”
Completely deadpan, Jun blinked slowly in an effort to get his brain to catch up. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“You're infatuated, Jun.” Nino let out a small laugh, similar to the one from earlier that still rang through Jun's ears. “If nothing else, you've got to admit that Oh-chan is awful endearing like that.”
Ohno was puzzling - someone to figure out though Jun knew he probably never could, not even with all the years left in his life. The man was also strangely simple in his ways, from thinking to speaking, and even his actions. He seemed to be a walking contradiction, uncomplicated on the surface, but with a depth that seemed to go on for light-years just behind his eyes. Jun would be lying if he said it wasn't captivating at times.
That wasn't something he'd be telling Nino anytime soon.
It was more apparent to Jun on that night - not because it was supposedly a magic time of year, but because he'd been given the rare opportunity to slow down and see it. He felt he had a more clear understanding of Ohno, after watching him interact with the children, though the distance between them was still rather opaque. The fuzzy lines were becoming bolder and the colors more vibrant.
“Good,” Nino clapped Jun's shoulder as he passed by, “at least you're thinking now.”
The door closed with a soft click as Jun pulled it to behind him. He was determined to cash in on the hour of sleep he'd been promised earlier, but just as he he was about to climb back up to his preferred top bunk, he noticed there was someone in the bottom. He hadn't remembered Sho (or anyone else for that matter) looking as tired as he felt; and no one had been working as long as Jun, except for Aiba, who had long since taken a nap with his head nestled in Nino's lap for all to see.
He knew it was some kind of invasion of privacy, but Jun couldn't help it when he craned his head down to get a closer look. His eyes widened in the darkness when he spotted Ohno lazily passed out, lips parted every so slightly and letting out soft puffs of air as his chest moved up and down. The sleeping man had one arm haphazardly tossed over his stomach, while the other supported his head from underneath, and Jun found he could not look away. The urge to climb in beside him and soak up some of the undoubted warmth would not settle, and Jun had to force himself to blink.
It had been far too long a night; clearly his mind was doing weird things.
But then Ohno made a light, airy sound, and Jun's focus returned to find that the older man's eyes were open and trained on him. “What are you doing in here?” Jun asked dumbly, for lack of anything better to say, and instantly felt like kicking himself for it.
Ohno blinked slowly, his gaze untrained and somewhat shaking. “I don't feel too well,” he responded quietly. He sat up, his back hunched as he tried not to hit his head on the bunk above, and crossed his legs, settling his hands uselessly in his lap. He was tired, Jun could see, and even though he usually looked a bit sleepy, this was due to something else.
Jun knelt down beside the bed, pressing one palm against Ohno's forehead, and the other softly against his cheek. His motions were careful, attentive, and whether Ohno seemed to notice at all, he didn't know. “Well, you don't feel like you have a fever, but it's not surprising you'd come down with something once in a while. You really should learn to wear a surgical mask when you're around the children.”
Ohno pouted as Jun removed his hands. “You can't see a smile under those.”
“Regardless, if you're getting sick, maybe someone should take a look at you.” Jun took his hand and tried to pull him up, but Ohno wordlessly resisted and motioned for Jun to sit beside him. “Why are you even here?” Jun asked.
“Because you're here. No one needs to be alone at Christmas.”
The space was cramped, and Ohno huddled against him, proving to Jun that he was as warm as he looked. For the first time, Jun had a chance to see the man up close - really up close if the way Ohno laid his head against Jun's shoulder was any indication. He was all soft lines, long and smooth like his voice, and for once Jun thought that maybe there was nothing to figure out about the man next to him. Maybe Ohno was Ohno, and that's all there was to know.
Jun wrapped an arm around his shoulder, holding Ohno somewhat upright as the shorter man began to doze again. He'd intended to sleep, but this, Ohno against him, was far more relaxing, more peaceful than anything he'd felt in a long time. It was the pull that Ohno offered to everyone, children and co-workers, and undoubtedly everyone he'd ever met.
“You're a strange one, you know that?” Jun asked, and he'd meant for it to go unanswered as Ohno sank deeper into his nap. But then Ohno issued a quick “hm?” and cracked one eye open to peer up at Jun confusedly.
The doctor felt his tongue go numb, thick and unmoving in his mouth though a million thoughts were whirling round in his mind. Ohno's boyish face looked back at him with sleepy eyes and an unexpected fondness. His long lashes fluttered closed, splaying across his tanned cheeks, and Jun knew exactly what he wanted to do. He leaned in forward, their lips almost touching, and then-
Ohno yawned. “Were you saying something, Jun-kun?”
“No,” Jun couldn't help but smile as he spoke. He closed the distance between them and placed a lingering kiss on Ohno's forehead, just below his hairline. “Merry Christmas, Ohno-kun.”
“Merry Christmas, Jun-kun.”
“It's Christmas Day on talk radio. This is everyone's favorite Aiba Masaki, and I hope you're all having a wonderful holiday with the people you love. I know I am- No, Nino, don't turn it off! I just want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! No, we'll open presents when we go home later. Y'know, Santa can still take yours back if you're going to be naughty. Nino! That kind of language is not suitable for talk radio - and I totally did not mean that kind of naughty.
Well, when you put it that way... Merry Christmas, everyone!”
♥