Shomiya: Simplicity
Pairing: Shomiya
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Nino has a surprise waiting for him at home and it's just what he wanted.
Notes: Originally written for sei_shoku's Nino's Birthday Surprise contest in June. The makings of great porn. I was struck by this idea and I think it really shows a different dynamic of our OT3. :3
Simplicity
Nino inhales deeply, exhaling a groan as he sticks his key into the apartment door lock, his shoulders feeling tense and stiff from standing on set since his six a.m. call time.
The last scene of the day had been one of the more macabre and none of the actors could get the mood just right, least of all Nino. There is nothing he finds more frustrating than not being able to slip into his character and embody his emotions and that had made it harder to gain his composure. In the end, they had wrapped without getting a shot the director was satisfied with three hours later than scheduled, saying that they would try again first thing in the morning.
To top things off, Nino’s ride had bailed on him at the last minute so he had to take the subway home. His train was delayed because of some drunken salaryman decided to pick a fight with anyone who looked at him the wrong way-which was every way. They were stalled for forty minutes before the transit police came and escorted him away.
Inside the front door of his apartment, Nino toes off his shoes amid a pile of sneakers and sandals and steps into his slippers, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. The lights are off and the window is open, letting the cool June night air fill the room. He drops his bag on the floor next to the TV stand and falls onto the couch. The room is dark except for the digital face of his stereo and the lights of the city outside the window that throw long shadows across the coffee table.
It is well after midnight; Nino doesn’t even want to lift up his arm to look at his watch. He knows he should at least change and wash the make up off his face. He knows he should get into his bed rather than sleep on the couch-he’ll be tired enough as it is, going to work on maybe four hours of sleep. But the bathroom door looks so far away…
And then he sees the kitchen table. When he gets close, he can make out the three place settings, enough food to feed a large family and a cake with twenty-six unlit candles. On the plate in the middle is a card that reads simply in clear blocky script, “To our favourite magician, happy birthday.” The fried rice has already gone cold and the champagne is warm but everything is waiting just for him to come home.
Nino doesn’t need to look into the bedroom to know that there on the queen-sized bed are Ohno and Sho, still in their clothes, fast asleep. He quickly brushes his teeth and puts on the pyjama bottoms and t-shirt he’d left in the bathroom and crawls lightly into bed. Between them is just enough space for Nino. Ohno curls around him instinctively, wrapping an arm around his waist and nosing the nape of his neck. Sho rests a hand on Nino’s cheek and threads their legs together, shifting closer with a quiet sigh.
“Surprise,” Sho murmurs against Nino’s forehead.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“I heard you come in. We were just napping.”
“Sure, you were. How long have you been here? You shouldn’t have waited all night.”
Ohno shifts behind Nino, voice thick and warm against his ear, “But it’s Kazu’s birthday. We wanted to be the first to celebrate.”
“You guys are a day early,” Nino points out with a grin.
“Not anymore,” Ohno corrects him, looking at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s already tomorrow.”
“That’s right. Happy birthday,” Sho says and kisses Nino lightly on the lips.
Ohno hugs him tightly from behind, “Here’s your present.”
It’s so simple: the gestures and sentiments, the meal and the card, just being there with them on the dawn of his birthday and Nino can’t feel happier. It’s just what he wants and he feels warm fuzziness all the way down to the tips of his ears, his fingers, his toes.
Everything is soft and slow, like an old movie that has lost a bit of its colour with time, familiar and comfortable. The crawl of Ohno’s hand underneath the front of Nino’s t-shirt, following the curve of his chest as he breathes in and out; the inch of Sho’s lips down the column of his neck, taking time to pause on the especially sensitive dip just beneath his jaw; the slide of Sho’s leg between his thighs, the gentle rocking of Ohno behind him. Nino moans, sotto voce, as Sho’s hand slips into his pants and wraps around him tenderly, attempting to wake up his body while Ohno’s fingers draw circles around his nipples.
Every movement is deliberate and laden with care, achingly delicate against Nino’s skin. But under it all is the weight of exhaustion. He’s warm from the inside and out and that is enough.
“Wait,” Nino’s raw voice stills their hands-Ohno’s on his chest and Sho’s low on his belly- and he laces his fingers through theirs. Ohno shifts onto his elbow to look at Nino’s face; Nino can make out the confused crease of Sho’s eyebrows in the dark.
“I want to, really. And, shit, it feels so good but I’m… can we just sleep tonight?”
Sho nods with a smile, resting his hand against Nino’s throat, feeling the quiet thrum of his pulse as Ohno drops a chaste, lingering kiss onto the corner of Nino’s mouth.
Sho reaches out with the need to touch, smoothing his palm up Ohno’s spine and squeezing Nino’s fingers. Ohno finds Sho’s face with his fingertips, letting Sho kiss them before he settles his hand on Sho’s hip, holding onto the hem of his t-shirt. Nino closes his eyes and lets all his muscles relax, lets all the tension go, sinking deep into the mattress.
“Don’t worry,” Ohno whispers against Nino’s ear, loud enough for Sho to hear too. “It’ll still be your birthday tomorrow night.”
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Nino has a surprise waiting for him at home and it's just what he wanted.
Notes: Originally written for sei_shoku's Nino's Birthday Surprise contest in June. The makings of great porn. I was struck by this idea and I think it really shows a different dynamic of our OT3. :3
Simplicity
Nino inhales deeply, exhaling a groan as he sticks his key into the apartment door lock, his shoulders feeling tense and stiff from standing on set since his six a.m. call time.
The last scene of the day had been one of the more macabre and none of the actors could get the mood just right, least of all Nino. There is nothing he finds more frustrating than not being able to slip into his character and embody his emotions and that had made it harder to gain his composure. In the end, they had wrapped without getting a shot the director was satisfied with three hours later than scheduled, saying that they would try again first thing in the morning.
To top things off, Nino’s ride had bailed on him at the last minute so he had to take the subway home. His train was delayed because of some drunken salaryman decided to pick a fight with anyone who looked at him the wrong way-which was every way. They were stalled for forty minutes before the transit police came and escorted him away.
Inside the front door of his apartment, Nino toes off his shoes amid a pile of sneakers and sandals and steps into his slippers, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. The lights are off and the window is open, letting the cool June night air fill the room. He drops his bag on the floor next to the TV stand and falls onto the couch. The room is dark except for the digital face of his stereo and the lights of the city outside the window that throw long shadows across the coffee table.
It is well after midnight; Nino doesn’t even want to lift up his arm to look at his watch. He knows he should at least change and wash the make up off his face. He knows he should get into his bed rather than sleep on the couch-he’ll be tired enough as it is, going to work on maybe four hours of sleep. But the bathroom door looks so far away…
And then he sees the kitchen table. When he gets close, he can make out the three place settings, enough food to feed a large family and a cake with twenty-six unlit candles. On the plate in the middle is a card that reads simply in clear blocky script, “To our favourite magician, happy birthday.” The fried rice has already gone cold and the champagne is warm but everything is waiting just for him to come home.
Nino doesn’t need to look into the bedroom to know that there on the queen-sized bed are Ohno and Sho, still in their clothes, fast asleep. He quickly brushes his teeth and puts on the pyjama bottoms and t-shirt he’d left in the bathroom and crawls lightly into bed. Between them is just enough space for Nino. Ohno curls around him instinctively, wrapping an arm around his waist and nosing the nape of his neck. Sho rests a hand on Nino’s cheek and threads their legs together, shifting closer with a quiet sigh.
“Surprise,” Sho murmurs against Nino’s forehead.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“I heard you come in. We were just napping.”
“Sure, you were. How long have you been here? You shouldn’t have waited all night.”
Ohno shifts behind Nino, voice thick and warm against his ear, “But it’s Kazu’s birthday. We wanted to be the first to celebrate.”
“You guys are a day early,” Nino points out with a grin.
“Not anymore,” Ohno corrects him, looking at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s already tomorrow.”
“That’s right. Happy birthday,” Sho says and kisses Nino lightly on the lips.
Ohno hugs him tightly from behind, “Here’s your present.”
It’s so simple: the gestures and sentiments, the meal and the card, just being there with them on the dawn of his birthday and Nino can’t feel happier. It’s just what he wants and he feels warm fuzziness all the way down to the tips of his ears, his fingers, his toes.
Everything is soft and slow, like an old movie that has lost a bit of its colour with time, familiar and comfortable. The crawl of Ohno’s hand underneath the front of Nino’s t-shirt, following the curve of his chest as he breathes in and out; the inch of Sho’s lips down the column of his neck, taking time to pause on the especially sensitive dip just beneath his jaw; the slide of Sho’s leg between his thighs, the gentle rocking of Ohno behind him. Nino moans, sotto voce, as Sho’s hand slips into his pants and wraps around him tenderly, attempting to wake up his body while Ohno’s fingers draw circles around his nipples.
Every movement is deliberate and laden with care, achingly delicate against Nino’s skin. But under it all is the weight of exhaustion. He’s warm from the inside and out and that is enough.
“Wait,” Nino’s raw voice stills their hands-Ohno’s on his chest and Sho’s low on his belly- and he laces his fingers through theirs. Ohno shifts onto his elbow to look at Nino’s face; Nino can make out the confused crease of Sho’s eyebrows in the dark.
“I want to, really. And, shit, it feels so good but I’m… can we just sleep tonight?”
Sho nods with a smile, resting his hand against Nino’s throat, feeling the quiet thrum of his pulse as Ohno drops a chaste, lingering kiss onto the corner of Nino’s mouth.
Sho reaches out with the need to touch, smoothing his palm up Ohno’s spine and squeezing Nino’s fingers. Ohno finds Sho’s face with his fingertips, letting Sho kiss them before he settles his hand on Sho’s hip, holding onto the hem of his t-shirt. Nino closes his eyes and lets all his muscles relax, lets all the tension go, sinking deep into the mattress.
“Don’t worry,” Ohno whispers against Nino’s ear, loud enough for Sho to hear too. “It’ll still be your birthday tomorrow night.”