50 je-prompts: #021. near
rating/genre: PG, fluff
pairing(s): Ohmiya
words: 740
summary: Nino is calculating, Nino is enamoured, Ohno reads minds.
disclaimer: fiction.
notes: when I say fluff I mean fluff. also i wrote this before the other prompts so it is a little terrible.
I noticed I loved you when we were an inch apart
Nino has his hand in Ohno’s back pocket.
They’re filming a new music video, and the director’s decided to tweak the plans a little bit after seeing the recordings so far, so lights and cameras are being moved around. Everyone’s just sort of milling around; Sho and Aiba off to see what catering has and Jun reading a script with earphones in. Nino and Ohno have wandered over to the side of the set, where cardboard boxes are stacked with various wires and equipment poking out. If somebody (a new staff member or anyone who hadn’t ever been with them for a few hours) could raise the courage to ask exactly why his hand needed to be in another man’s clothing, or why he appeared to be kneading steady circles into Ohno’s left cheek, Nino would scoff, say it’s a natural event occurring in nature and ask incredulously, “Where should my hand be, then?” But no one does.
That’s a good thing, because then he doesn’t have to lie about it. Nino’s done some quick calculations and figured that ten minutes of buttock-appreciation will be the limit before Ohno starts getting fidgety and wordlessly pushing off his advances by heading off to talk to another member. He slips his hand out of the pocket and folds his arms, but occasionally lets it bump against Ohno’s own arm. After a minute of brushing arms gently, Nino feigns a cough and jabs an elbow into his chest. Ohno chokes, hunches over as if stabbed and in pain, and slowly stands back up, breathing heavy and over-dramatic.
Nino glances to his side to peek at the man, done with the skit and now sniffing and scrunching his nose. For a moment his eyes trace the outline of Ohno’s tall nose, engraving the way it gently curves at the tip and is followed by thin but plump lips into his memory. Another one (most definitely an unneeded duplicate) for the worryingly large Box ‘o’ Ohno in his head. Nino snorts.
Bet he needs to pick it.
“My nose is a bit runny from the noodles I had earlier. The steam, you know.” Nino rolls his eyes but grins.
“I didn’t say anything, Leader.”
“You did that thing you do when you think you know what I’m thinking, I think.”
“Let me just translate that into Japanese first. Give me a minute.”
“Bet you don’t know what I’m thinking now.”
Nino recognises the signal for a challenge, and steps away from Ohno’s side to face him instead. He stares straight into his eyes, and Ohno stares right back. Nino’s concentration flickers slightly as he appreciates the elegant curve of his eyes that makes him seem eternally drowsy and all the mothers in Japan have the desire to tuck him into bed. He can’t quite focus, so Nino declares that physical contact with the brain is necessary for an accurate reading and places a palm over Ohno’s eyes. Ohno does a little chuckle that shows some teeth.
Oh great, now I can’t stop looking at his mouth.
“You’re thinking that no matter how long the director takes we’re not making a masterpiece here.” Ohno hums in consideration of the answer and Nino can’t help but feel the reverberation from under his palm go right down to his toes.
“Wrong. Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”
“It’s occurred to me. Answer?”
Nino jolts when he feels hands snake around his side and behind him, pressing strongly enough at his lower back that he’s pushed into the culprit. He’s frozen, one hand still over Ohno’s eyes, the other over his shoulder in surprise from the sudden movement. Thighs and torso are lined up against each other. Considering that he’s been gazing at and memorising Ohno’s face for reasons that most band members wouldn’t (shouldn’t) have for the past few minutes, it’s too close, even for him. A lazy smile forms slowly as Ohno removes one hand from Nino’s back to pull his hand away from his crinkled eyes. Nino's hand stays in the other's hold.
“That Nino sure does love looking at my face.”
“It is a bit too close for comfort right now, actually.”
“Actually, it’s perfect,” Ohno says as he leans in.
pairing(s): Ohmiya
words: 740
summary: Nino is calculating, Nino is enamoured, Ohno reads minds.
disclaimer: fiction.
notes: when I say fluff I mean fluff. also i wrote this before the other prompts so it is a little terrible.
I noticed I loved you when we were an inch apart
Nino has his hand in Ohno’s back pocket.
They’re filming a new music video, and the director’s decided to tweak the plans a little bit after seeing the recordings so far, so lights and cameras are being moved around. Everyone’s just sort of milling around; Sho and Aiba off to see what catering has and Jun reading a script with earphones in. Nino and Ohno have wandered over to the side of the set, where cardboard boxes are stacked with various wires and equipment poking out. If somebody (a new staff member or anyone who hadn’t ever been with them for a few hours) could raise the courage to ask exactly why his hand needed to be in another man’s clothing, or why he appeared to be kneading steady circles into Ohno’s left cheek, Nino would scoff, say it’s a natural event occurring in nature and ask incredulously, “Where should my hand be, then?” But no one does.
That’s a good thing, because then he doesn’t have to lie about it. Nino’s done some quick calculations and figured that ten minutes of buttock-appreciation will be the limit before Ohno starts getting fidgety and wordlessly pushing off his advances by heading off to talk to another member. He slips his hand out of the pocket and folds his arms, but occasionally lets it bump against Ohno’s own arm. After a minute of brushing arms gently, Nino feigns a cough and jabs an elbow into his chest. Ohno chokes, hunches over as if stabbed and in pain, and slowly stands back up, breathing heavy and over-dramatic.
Nino glances to his side to peek at the man, done with the skit and now sniffing and scrunching his nose. For a moment his eyes trace the outline of Ohno’s tall nose, engraving the way it gently curves at the tip and is followed by thin but plump lips into his memory. Another one (most definitely an unneeded duplicate) for the worryingly large Box ‘o’ Ohno in his head. Nino snorts.
Bet he needs to pick it.
“My nose is a bit runny from the noodles I had earlier. The steam, you know.” Nino rolls his eyes but grins.
“I didn’t say anything, Leader.”
“You did that thing you do when you think you know what I’m thinking, I think.”
“Let me just translate that into Japanese first. Give me a minute.”
“Bet you don’t know what I’m thinking now.”
Nino recognises the signal for a challenge, and steps away from Ohno’s side to face him instead. He stares straight into his eyes, and Ohno stares right back. Nino’s concentration flickers slightly as he appreciates the elegant curve of his eyes that makes him seem eternally drowsy and all the mothers in Japan have the desire to tuck him into bed. He can’t quite focus, so Nino declares that physical contact with the brain is necessary for an accurate reading and places a palm over Ohno’s eyes. Ohno does a little chuckle that shows some teeth.
Oh great, now I can’t stop looking at his mouth.
“You’re thinking that no matter how long the director takes we’re not making a masterpiece here.” Ohno hums in consideration of the answer and Nino can’t help but feel the reverberation from under his palm go right down to his toes.
“Wrong. Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”
“It’s occurred to me. Answer?”
Nino jolts when he feels hands snake around his side and behind him, pressing strongly enough at his lower back that he’s pushed into the culprit. He’s frozen, one hand still over Ohno’s eyes, the other over his shoulder in surprise from the sudden movement. Thighs and torso are lined up against each other. Considering that he’s been gazing at and memorising Ohno’s face for reasons that most band members wouldn’t (shouldn’t) have for the past few minutes, it’s too close, even for him. A lazy smile forms slowly as Ohno removes one hand from Nino’s back to pull his hand away from his crinkled eyes. Nino's hand stays in the other's hold.
“That Nino sure does love looking at my face.”
“It is a bit too close for comfort right now, actually.”
“Actually, it’s perfect,” Ohno says as he leans in.