Quick fic.
Because I said I would.
your side
Jun can see through Nino in a heartbeat. They're alike, the two of them, in a lot of ways and he thinks that's probably why he can. He also thinks that Nino probably lets him see more than he does the others. Maybe he thinks Jun can take it, Jun doesn't know. It doesn't matter, really.
What matters is that he can see the way Nino is hurting. There's always some physical pain, they've all got that, but it's that obvious Nino is hurt somewhere inside, too. Jun follows him out to his car.
"Jun," Nino says levelly.
"I'm with," Jun returns, waiting for Nino to unlock the doors. He does and then surprises Jun by walking over to the passenger side, passing him the keys before buckling himself in.
It's trust. Jun moves around the car and gets behind the wheel. He doesn't put on his sunglasses even though it's that time of day when the sun glares off the windshield and can't be blocked out by the visors. He just gets in and starts the car and drives.
The minutes turn to quarters and halves and hours and Jun drives while the sun goes down and Nino sits beside him, the radio off and the silence between them soft and ragged like the best old t-shirt. They're just driving, the city falling away to nothing more than an orange light smear on the sky in the rearview. Eventually Jun pulls over for gas. "Grab me something?" he asks as he unscrews the gas cap.
Nino leans against the side of the car, eyes on the sky. "My sister is getting divorced," he says casually before pushing off and walking into the service station. "Nex?" he calls as he goes, but he doesn't wait for Jun to say yes.
Jun is waiting behind the wheel when Nino comes back, two bottles of soda and two day-old melon breads. Jun is waiting in more ways than one. He pulls out of the station and heads into the night, into the open spaces between places. When Nino hands him his bread he catches Nino's hand around it. "I'm sorry," he says when Nino looks at him.
"Me too." Nino's voice breaks and he looks away, takes his hand away. "I wrote Niji for her. For her wedding."
He hadn't known that and it sticks in his throat, making him feel like he's going to choke on his bite of bread, his sip of soda. "Do you-" he stops. "Come stay with me tonight," he says instead, like an order. Nino will wiggle away if he lets him and they both know it.
Only when Nino nods does he turn the car back towards home.
It's dark and light in the way only Tokyo can be when Jun finally pulls into his building, Nino is asleep with his head pillowed against the window. He rouses as Jun parks and climbs out of the car, groggy but aware. Jun drags both of their bags out of the back and gets them through the security doors and on to the elevator. He's so very aware of Nino beside him and the way Nino looks at him.
He can see right through Nino. He can and because he can he drops their things and has his arms open when the door of his apartment shuts. Nino is already leaning into his embrace, silent as a ghost and warm as a child. Jun holds him close in the genkan for a long, long time. He feels the bones of Nino's back and the beat of his heart and it doesn't really matter if their shoes ever come off, he thinks. But they do. Nino pulls back and Jun lets him, smiles at him, and they kick out of their shoes and leave their stuff in a heap by the door.
The bed is soft and warm and big enough.
your side
Jun can see through Nino in a heartbeat. They're alike, the two of them, in a lot of ways and he thinks that's probably why he can. He also thinks that Nino probably lets him see more than he does the others. Maybe he thinks Jun can take it, Jun doesn't know. It doesn't matter, really.
What matters is that he can see the way Nino is hurting. There's always some physical pain, they've all got that, but it's that obvious Nino is hurt somewhere inside, too. Jun follows him out to his car.
"Jun," Nino says levelly.
"I'm with," Jun returns, waiting for Nino to unlock the doors. He does and then surprises Jun by walking over to the passenger side, passing him the keys before buckling himself in.
It's trust. Jun moves around the car and gets behind the wheel. He doesn't put on his sunglasses even though it's that time of day when the sun glares off the windshield and can't be blocked out by the visors. He just gets in and starts the car and drives.
The minutes turn to quarters and halves and hours and Jun drives while the sun goes down and Nino sits beside him, the radio off and the silence between them soft and ragged like the best old t-shirt. They're just driving, the city falling away to nothing more than an orange light smear on the sky in the rearview. Eventually Jun pulls over for gas. "Grab me something?" he asks as he unscrews the gas cap.
Nino leans against the side of the car, eyes on the sky. "My sister is getting divorced," he says casually before pushing off and walking into the service station. "Nex?" he calls as he goes, but he doesn't wait for Jun to say yes.
Jun is waiting behind the wheel when Nino comes back, two bottles of soda and two day-old melon breads. Jun is waiting in more ways than one. He pulls out of the station and heads into the night, into the open spaces between places. When Nino hands him his bread he catches Nino's hand around it. "I'm sorry," he says when Nino looks at him.
"Me too." Nino's voice breaks and he looks away, takes his hand away. "I wrote Niji for her. For her wedding."
He hadn't known that and it sticks in his throat, making him feel like he's going to choke on his bite of bread, his sip of soda. "Do you-" he stops. "Come stay with me tonight," he says instead, like an order. Nino will wiggle away if he lets him and they both know it.
Only when Nino nods does he turn the car back towards home.
It's dark and light in the way only Tokyo can be when Jun finally pulls into his building, Nino is asleep with his head pillowed against the window. He rouses as Jun parks and climbs out of the car, groggy but aware. Jun drags both of their bags out of the back and gets them through the security doors and on to the elevator. He's so very aware of Nino beside him and the way Nino looks at him.
He can see right through Nino. He can and because he can he drops their things and has his arms open when the door of his apartment shuts. Nino is already leaning into his embrace, silent as a ghost and warm as a child. Jun holds him close in the genkan for a long, long time. He feels the bones of Nino's back and the beat of his heart and it doesn't really matter if their shoes ever come off, he thinks. But they do. Nino pulls back and Jun lets him, smiles at him, and they kick out of their shoes and leave their stuff in a heap by the door.
The bed is soft and warm and big enough.