38 - waxrose
Someone needs to help me continue this and more importantly, porn this, because I'm kind of failing at the moment.
Sho isn't used to the roads around the town, but Jun seems to have a place in mind, so Sho just follows his directions. It's a beautiful day, with a bright clear sky, hot sunshine and a light, cool breeze. He picked Jun up just before noon at his place with a bag full of Mao's blueberry muffins and a flimsy excuse about needing to test newly-repaired car.
He soon discovers that Jun is a quiet, but pleasant traveling companion, easy enough to carry on a good conversation with, but equally at ease with long silences.
He also discovers that Jun seems to have a pretty good idea of why he was being spirited out of town.
"Sometimes it's just better to give into them," Jun says resignedly. "Let them have their fun, hope they don't break any windows - god only knows it's going to be me cleaning up tomorrow and holding Aiba's hair back when he needs to barf in the middle of the night, though."
Sho laughs. "I'll help." He blushes. "Um, I mean cleaning up tomorrow. You shouldn't have to do it alone. But I'll let you handle Aiba."
"Thanks," Jun said, somewhat sarcastically, and adds, "It's right around here, if you want to pull over near that grove."
It's an orchard, Sho realizes, as Jun grabs the basket from the trunk, with tiny stubby trees laden with peaches and sweet little red apples, rows upon rows of them.
"Aiba used to work here, a couple of summers back," Jun explains, digging the blanket out of the basket and motioning Sho to take the other end to spread it out. "For awhile, anyways - they fired him when he ended up eating more fruit than he picked. I used to bring him lunches out here."
The trees are thick with leaves, casting fat shadows over the ground, and the grass feels scratchy and cool when Sho takes off his shoes and socks to sit on the blanket.
Jun pulls back the top layer of his sandwich cautiously, peering at the contents with a small frown.
"I swear Nino made them," Sho says, handing Jun a stack of napkins. "Really." Jun apparently hadn't forgotten the day he had tried to put Sho on kitchen duty in the diner. They were still dealing with food poisoning claims. "And there's pasta salad."
Aiba apparently had a hand in the pasta salad - that's the most convenient explanation for the heart-shaped tomato slices. Sho coughs and passes a can of beer to Jun.
"So. The trees are nice," Sho says lamely after a good three minutes of silence. He's trying to look at the trees, which are very nice, but well, trees. It's easy to look at the trees and ignore Jun's bare feet brushing against his on the tiny blanket, the dab of mayonnaise right under his bottom lip and the general awkwardness of the entire situation. It isn't awkward, per se, it's really all just in Sho's head, but he can't exactly casually say I think our mutual friends are trying to get us to have sex with each other, and how do you feel about this no matter how much it keeps bouncing around his brain.
"Yes," Jun says, in a tone that somehow makes Sho feel like just about the biggest moron of all time and makes his stomach flutter simultaneously. "Yes, they are, you know. Trees."
Sho isn't used to the roads around the town, but Jun seems to have a place in mind, so Sho just follows his directions. It's a beautiful day, with a bright clear sky, hot sunshine and a light, cool breeze. He picked Jun up just before noon at his place with a bag full of Mao's blueberry muffins and a flimsy excuse about needing to test newly-repaired car.
He soon discovers that Jun is a quiet, but pleasant traveling companion, easy enough to carry on a good conversation with, but equally at ease with long silences.
He also discovers that Jun seems to have a pretty good idea of why he was being spirited out of town.
"Sometimes it's just better to give into them," Jun says resignedly. "Let them have their fun, hope they don't break any windows - god only knows it's going to be me cleaning up tomorrow and holding Aiba's hair back when he needs to barf in the middle of the night, though."
Sho laughs. "I'll help." He blushes. "Um, I mean cleaning up tomorrow. You shouldn't have to do it alone. But I'll let you handle Aiba."
"Thanks," Jun said, somewhat sarcastically, and adds, "It's right around here, if you want to pull over near that grove."
It's an orchard, Sho realizes, as Jun grabs the basket from the trunk, with tiny stubby trees laden with peaches and sweet little red apples, rows upon rows of them.
"Aiba used to work here, a couple of summers back," Jun explains, digging the blanket out of the basket and motioning Sho to take the other end to spread it out. "For awhile, anyways - they fired him when he ended up eating more fruit than he picked. I used to bring him lunches out here."
The trees are thick with leaves, casting fat shadows over the ground, and the grass feels scratchy and cool when Sho takes off his shoes and socks to sit on the blanket.
Jun pulls back the top layer of his sandwich cautiously, peering at the contents with a small frown.
"I swear Nino made them," Sho says, handing Jun a stack of napkins. "Really." Jun apparently hadn't forgotten the day he had tried to put Sho on kitchen duty in the diner. They were still dealing with food poisoning claims. "And there's pasta salad."
Aiba apparently had a hand in the pasta salad - that's the most convenient explanation for the heart-shaped tomato slices. Sho coughs and passes a can of beer to Jun.
"So. The trees are nice," Sho says lamely after a good three minutes of silence. He's trying to look at the trees, which are very nice, but well, trees. It's easy to look at the trees and ignore Jun's bare feet brushing against his on the tiny blanket, the dab of mayonnaise right under his bottom lip and the general awkwardness of the entire situation. It isn't awkward, per se, it's really all just in Sho's head, but he can't exactly casually say I think our mutual friends are trying to get us to have sex with each other, and how do you feel about this no matter how much it keeps bouncing around his brain.
"Yes," Jun says, in a tone that somehow makes Sho feel like just about the biggest moron of all time and makes his stomach flutter simultaneously. "Yes, they are, you know. Trees."