[FIC] Arashi - Ohmiya Drabbles (Set Five)
Title: teeny tidbits of whimsy and schmoop (set five)
Fandom: Arashi
Pairing: Ohno/Ninomiya
Rating: G all around
Disclaimer: Not associated with Johnny's Entertainment. This is fiction; it never happened.
A/N: I don't think anyone actually reads my notes? So I'm just going to say that I have cute plastic dinosaurs and a faulty laptop charging cable that likes to slip out, so there is now a plesiosaur ensuring that my laptop gets its go-juice. (Also, Firefox apparently doesn't think that plesiosaur is a real word. This makes me sad.)
Also on AO3 (Link).
something fishy
Ohno feels the tug on his line, strong enough that it nearly pulls him right off the pier, and gets excited enough that he stands up and starts reeling with more enthusiasm than he’s felt all week.
When he finally hauls his catch up, he can only stare, unsure of what to say.
“Um,” he says eventually. That feels about right.
The young - man? Does it count as being a man when there are no legs, just a long, gradual transition from smooth pale skin to shiny yellow scales? - glares at him. He begins to untangle the hook from his hair, all the while snarling something in a language that Ohno can’t understand.
“Sorry?” Ohno tries, sheepish. This earns him a scalding look. And then, before he can think to defend himself, thin arms are grabbing for him. Ohno gets out a shout before they both go tumbling into the water.
For a second there is panic and flailing and I’m going to die--
-then hands on his face, warm lips against his, and it’s like every ounce of air in his lungs is being sucked out forcefully.
It hurts.
And then it doesn’t.
When the kiss is broken, Ohno is still so shocked from the force of it that it takes him a moment to realize he’s no longer drowning.
“Oh,” he says, somehow more baffled now than he was before.
“You,” the merman snarls. His tail swishes back and forth lazily and Ohno’s attention is drawn to it briefly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to catch people with hooks?”
“…well,” Ohno says after a long pause. “No.”
The merman looks at him in a way that suggests he thinks Ohno might be a few lures short of a full tackle box. Ohno isn’t bothered by this; it’s an oddly charming expression.
“I’m Ohno,” he introduces. “And I’m very sorry about catching you with a fishing hook?”
He holds out a hand. The merman stares at it for a long moment, brow drawn together. Then he swims around and behind Ohno, reappearing on his other side far closer than he had been a moment ago.
“You’re strange.” The mermaid decides. “And you don’t have a tail and you don’t even know how to breathe.” He tilts his head, baffled. Ohno offers a tentative smile and is pleased when he gets a sly little grin in return. “I’m Nino.”
“Nino,” Ohno repeats. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue.
***
schoolyard romance (Nino style)
Ohno meets Nino because Nino kicks him off the playground swing, then gets dragged back by the ear three minutes later by his furious mother. She apologizes profusely to Ohno’s mama, then shoves her rowdy child into a formal bow and makes him do the same.
“You make me sound like such a bully,” Nino whines whenever Ohno tells this story. His ears are red and Ohno bets the rest of him is too, but it’s hard to tell when Nino has his face pressed into Ohno’s shoulder to hide it.
“You are a bully,” Jun points out. Nino flips him off with a scowl.
Ohno, for his part, simply smiles and pets Nino’s hair. “That’s just how Nino shows his love.”
“Shut up,” Nino grouses, and kicks him off the couch.
“Nino-love!” Aiba cheers. “Now kiss!”
***
love sick (not really, it’s a cold)
“Ah,” Ohno says when he opens up the door to the third floor studio room that nobody ever uses and finds a small nest made of coats that have been pilfered from the rest of Arashi. “Found you!”
Nino peeks out from where he has temporarily transformed into a cloth-burrito, but only long enough to glare. His eyes are blood-shot and what little Ohno can see of his face is flushed, no doubt from the fever that Sho had mentioned earlier. “Wasn’t hiding,” he grumbles around a raw throat that makes Ohno wince in sympathy.
“Uh-huh,” Ohno indulges. “I still found you though.”
“Good for you,” Nino burrows back down. “Now go away.”
Ohno pouts and he’s sure the force of it must be strong enough that Nino can feel it, because a second later Nino sighs. Ohno takes this for permission to invade.
“Oh-chan,” Nino grouses, exasperated even as he rearranges himself to make room. “You’re gonna catch my cold.”
“That’s okay,” Ohno assures him, happily wrapping around Nino and pressing their bodies together so they become an odd puzzle of limbs and cuddles. “I don’t mind Nino’s germs.”
“Idiot,” Nino snips, and then nuzzles closer.
***
love sick? (still nope)
Nino is waiting for him when he wakes up. He’s sitting on the bed beside Ohno, playing on his 3DS with the volume turned all the way down. There’s a tray on the nightstand beside him, a bowl and a cup sitting on top.
Nino pauses his game and gives him his full attention. Ohno smiles, because even though he feels like death, it’s still nice to be prioritized.
“How are you feeling?” Nino questions, reaching out to brush his hand against Ohno’s forehead.
“’m okay,” Ohno says. It sounds like a lie when it comes out scratchy and nasal. “Sleepy.”
Nino hums. His frown as he withdraws his hand suggests that Ohno’s fever is still higher than he’d like. “Eat something first,” he instructs. He sets down his game and helps Ohno sit up, propping up some pillows behind him for support. Then he takes the tray and sets it on Ohno’s lap. The soup in the bowl is still warm, but cool enough that he can eat it without worrying about burning his mouth or throat. The tea has honey in it.
When Ohno has eaten as much as he can (much less than usual but more than Nino manages even when he’s healthy) and drunk the last of the tea, Nino tucks him back in. He leans over and presses a kiss to Ohno’s forehead and Ohno smiles sleepily.
“Nino takes such good care of me,” he murmurs, catching Nino’s hand in his and squeezing.
Nino squeezes back and doesn’t try to take it back. “Sleep,” he tells Ohno.
Ohno smiles and nestles down into his blankets. He drifts off to the sound of Nino pressing buttons on his game with one hand.
***
draw me like one of your french girls
Ohno is halfway through sketching a particularly striking profile before he realizes he has long since stopped paying attention to any of the art around him. Which, he supposes, defeats the purpose of going to a gallery for inspiration. But he glances down at his sketchpad and rethinks that - there are least three pages filled with loose drawings, which is three pages more than he’s managed all month.
The fact that they’re all of the thin boy that’s been whining to his taller, more stylish friend as he’s been dragged around the room is of little concern. He has a strange-cute face.
Ohno likes strange-cute things.
He is prepared to leave it at that, pack up his pencils and pad and head out for the day despite the tug of reluctance it brings in him. Right up until the boy sits down beside him, his friend having abandoned him to go stare at a pretentious sculpture in the corner.
“You know,” the boy says, “I’m pretty sure people usually ask before they draw - several pages of pictures of someone, wow.” The boy’s eyebrows go up as he takes Ohno’s sketchpad with little resistance, flipping back through the drawings Ohno has done of him. “I feel like I should charge you for my time, jeez.”
Ohno flushes. “I like your face,” he admits.
This earns him an odd look, but that’s alright. Ohno’s used to them.
“…right,” the boy says. Up close, he’s much cuter. Ohno spies a mole on his chin that he’d missed before and his fingers itch to grab his pencils.
“Will you model for me?” He asks, before he can think better. “I can pay you.”
Another odd look. Ohno braces himself for rejection.
He does not brace himself for, “With or without clothes?”
Which is probably why he slips off his bench in response.
“Are you okay?” The boy says, leaning over the edge of the bench to look down at him. The words are concerned but the way he says them makes Ohno think he’s being laughed at. A few people are starring at them. The boy’s friend is still in the corner, but from this angle Ohno can see that he has his head in his hands.
“I-” Ohno begins. “Whatever you want?”
This earns him a snort of a laugh from the boy, which is also cute but not something Ohno thinks he can draw. Maybe with clay-
“Tell you what,” the boy says, reaching a hand down. Ohno stares at it for a moment before allowing himself to be pulled up. “You can pay me for services already rendered by taking me out to dinner.” He pats Ohno’s sketchbook once, then passes it back to him. “And we’ll take it from there.”
“Okay,” Ohno says.
“I’m Nino, by the way. And the one trying to strangle himself with that sculpture made out of ties is Jun.”
“Okay,” Ohno repeats. He is already picking out the colors he wants to use when he gets Nino back to his studio. Paints and pastels and maybe a touch of charcoal…
Nino laughs. “You’re an odd one.” He decides. From his tone, it’s apparently not a bad thing.
Fandom: Arashi
Pairing: Ohno/Ninomiya
Rating: G all around
Disclaimer: Not associated with Johnny's Entertainment. This is fiction; it never happened.
A/N: I don't think anyone actually reads my notes? So I'm just going to say that I have cute plastic dinosaurs and a faulty laptop charging cable that likes to slip out, so there is now a plesiosaur ensuring that my laptop gets its go-juice. (Also, Firefox apparently doesn't think that plesiosaur is a real word. This makes me sad.)
Also on AO3 (Link).
something fishy
Ohno feels the tug on his line, strong enough that it nearly pulls him right off the pier, and gets excited enough that he stands up and starts reeling with more enthusiasm than he’s felt all week.
When he finally hauls his catch up, he can only stare, unsure of what to say.
“Um,” he says eventually. That feels about right.
The young - man? Does it count as being a man when there are no legs, just a long, gradual transition from smooth pale skin to shiny yellow scales? - glares at him. He begins to untangle the hook from his hair, all the while snarling something in a language that Ohno can’t understand.
“Sorry?” Ohno tries, sheepish. This earns him a scalding look. And then, before he can think to defend himself, thin arms are grabbing for him. Ohno gets out a shout before they both go tumbling into the water.
For a second there is panic and flailing and I’m going to die--
-then hands on his face, warm lips against his, and it’s like every ounce of air in his lungs is being sucked out forcefully.
It hurts.
And then it doesn’t.
When the kiss is broken, Ohno is still so shocked from the force of it that it takes him a moment to realize he’s no longer drowning.
“Oh,” he says, somehow more baffled now than he was before.
“You,” the merman snarls. His tail swishes back and forth lazily and Ohno’s attention is drawn to it briefly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to catch people with hooks?”
“…well,” Ohno says after a long pause. “No.”
The merman looks at him in a way that suggests he thinks Ohno might be a few lures short of a full tackle box. Ohno isn’t bothered by this; it’s an oddly charming expression.
“I’m Ohno,” he introduces. “And I’m very sorry about catching you with a fishing hook?”
He holds out a hand. The merman stares at it for a long moment, brow drawn together. Then he swims around and behind Ohno, reappearing on his other side far closer than he had been a moment ago.
“You’re strange.” The mermaid decides. “And you don’t have a tail and you don’t even know how to breathe.” He tilts his head, baffled. Ohno offers a tentative smile and is pleased when he gets a sly little grin in return. “I’m Nino.”
“Nino,” Ohno repeats. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue.
***
schoolyard romance (Nino style)
Ohno meets Nino because Nino kicks him off the playground swing, then gets dragged back by the ear three minutes later by his furious mother. She apologizes profusely to Ohno’s mama, then shoves her rowdy child into a formal bow and makes him do the same.
“You make me sound like such a bully,” Nino whines whenever Ohno tells this story. His ears are red and Ohno bets the rest of him is too, but it’s hard to tell when Nino has his face pressed into Ohno’s shoulder to hide it.
“You are a bully,” Jun points out. Nino flips him off with a scowl.
Ohno, for his part, simply smiles and pets Nino’s hair. “That’s just how Nino shows his love.”
“Shut up,” Nino grouses, and kicks him off the couch.
“Nino-love!” Aiba cheers. “Now kiss!”
***
love sick (not really, it’s a cold)
“Ah,” Ohno says when he opens up the door to the third floor studio room that nobody ever uses and finds a small nest made of coats that have been pilfered from the rest of Arashi. “Found you!”
Nino peeks out from where he has temporarily transformed into a cloth-burrito, but only long enough to glare. His eyes are blood-shot and what little Ohno can see of his face is flushed, no doubt from the fever that Sho had mentioned earlier. “Wasn’t hiding,” he grumbles around a raw throat that makes Ohno wince in sympathy.
“Uh-huh,” Ohno indulges. “I still found you though.”
“Good for you,” Nino burrows back down. “Now go away.”
Ohno pouts and he’s sure the force of it must be strong enough that Nino can feel it, because a second later Nino sighs. Ohno takes this for permission to invade.
“Oh-chan,” Nino grouses, exasperated even as he rearranges himself to make room. “You’re gonna catch my cold.”
“That’s okay,” Ohno assures him, happily wrapping around Nino and pressing their bodies together so they become an odd puzzle of limbs and cuddles. “I don’t mind Nino’s germs.”
“Idiot,” Nino snips, and then nuzzles closer.
***
love sick? (still nope)
Nino is waiting for him when he wakes up. He’s sitting on the bed beside Ohno, playing on his 3DS with the volume turned all the way down. There’s a tray on the nightstand beside him, a bowl and a cup sitting on top.
Nino pauses his game and gives him his full attention. Ohno smiles, because even though he feels like death, it’s still nice to be prioritized.
“How are you feeling?” Nino questions, reaching out to brush his hand against Ohno’s forehead.
“’m okay,” Ohno says. It sounds like a lie when it comes out scratchy and nasal. “Sleepy.”
Nino hums. His frown as he withdraws his hand suggests that Ohno’s fever is still higher than he’d like. “Eat something first,” he instructs. He sets down his game and helps Ohno sit up, propping up some pillows behind him for support. Then he takes the tray and sets it on Ohno’s lap. The soup in the bowl is still warm, but cool enough that he can eat it without worrying about burning his mouth or throat. The tea has honey in it.
When Ohno has eaten as much as he can (much less than usual but more than Nino manages even when he’s healthy) and drunk the last of the tea, Nino tucks him back in. He leans over and presses a kiss to Ohno’s forehead and Ohno smiles sleepily.
“Nino takes such good care of me,” he murmurs, catching Nino’s hand in his and squeezing.
Nino squeezes back and doesn’t try to take it back. “Sleep,” he tells Ohno.
Ohno smiles and nestles down into his blankets. He drifts off to the sound of Nino pressing buttons on his game with one hand.
***
draw me like one of your french girls
Ohno is halfway through sketching a particularly striking profile before he realizes he has long since stopped paying attention to any of the art around him. Which, he supposes, defeats the purpose of going to a gallery for inspiration. But he glances down at his sketchpad and rethinks that - there are least three pages filled with loose drawings, which is three pages more than he’s managed all month.
The fact that they’re all of the thin boy that’s been whining to his taller, more stylish friend as he’s been dragged around the room is of little concern. He has a strange-cute face.
Ohno likes strange-cute things.
He is prepared to leave it at that, pack up his pencils and pad and head out for the day despite the tug of reluctance it brings in him. Right up until the boy sits down beside him, his friend having abandoned him to go stare at a pretentious sculpture in the corner.
“You know,” the boy says, “I’m pretty sure people usually ask before they draw - several pages of pictures of someone, wow.” The boy’s eyebrows go up as he takes Ohno’s sketchpad with little resistance, flipping back through the drawings Ohno has done of him. “I feel like I should charge you for my time, jeez.”
Ohno flushes. “I like your face,” he admits.
This earns him an odd look, but that’s alright. Ohno’s used to them.
“…right,” the boy says. Up close, he’s much cuter. Ohno spies a mole on his chin that he’d missed before and his fingers itch to grab his pencils.
“Will you model for me?” He asks, before he can think better. “I can pay you.”
Another odd look. Ohno braces himself for rejection.
He does not brace himself for, “With or without clothes?”
Which is probably why he slips off his bench in response.
“Are you okay?” The boy says, leaning over the edge of the bench to look down at him. The words are concerned but the way he says them makes Ohno think he’s being laughed at. A few people are starring at them. The boy’s friend is still in the corner, but from this angle Ohno can see that he has his head in his hands.
“I-” Ohno begins. “Whatever you want?”
This earns him a snort of a laugh from the boy, which is also cute but not something Ohno thinks he can draw. Maybe with clay-
“Tell you what,” the boy says, reaching a hand down. Ohno stares at it for a moment before allowing himself to be pulled up. “You can pay me for services already rendered by taking me out to dinner.” He pats Ohno’s sketchbook once, then passes it back to him. “And we’ll take it from there.”
“Okay,” Ohno says.
“I’m Nino, by the way. And the one trying to strangle himself with that sculpture made out of ties is Jun.”
“Okay,” Ohno repeats. He is already picking out the colors he wants to use when he gets Nino back to his studio. Paints and pastels and maybe a touch of charcoal…
Nino laughs. “You’re an odd one.” He decides. From his tone, it’s apparently not a bad thing.