fic for phrenk
For: phrenk
From: cutselvage
Title: Ordinary Miracles
Pairing/Focus: Aiba/Nino
Rating: R
Warnings: Tiny bit of mild sexy stuff.
Summary: Four seasons of Nino and Aiba.
Notes: I flailed a bit starting off, but rereading Twosen’s メリークリスマス translation helped me get going. With many thanks to the wonderful A for her beta skills.
Dear phrenk, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Winter
December
Snowflakes swirled gently down from the sky, and Aiba Masaki tried to regain the feeling in his toes by quietly shuffling his feet. The costume provided by the job agency didn’t mention how flimsy the black boots were, and Aiba made a mental note to wear thicker socks next time.
“Thank you for shopping at Takashimaya, Merry Christmas!” Aiba bowed as he greeted and farewelled customer after customer, all laden with shopping bags and bundled up in scarves and hats in the cold December weather. The fake beard itched his chin, but he couldn’t pull it aside to scratch in public without earning a scolding from his supervisor for “behaviour unbecoming of a Santa-san”.
Bowning enthusiastically, Aiba smiled as he caught sight of a small girl in a bright red jacket. She was proudly holding the leash of a French bulldog who wore a matching coat as they walked along the sidewalk towards Takashimaya.
Suddenly the girl screeched as the dog noticed a stall selling yakitori just a few shops past Aiba’s doorway and wrenched the leash free of her grip. “Miko-chan, Miko-chan, come back!” The dog pelted down the street, weaving between the feet of surprised shoppers as the high-pitched voice of the girl called after him.
Aiba didn’t even stop to think; he launched himself into the crowd, landing with a thump and rolling on his back with a barking Miko-chan tucked under one arm and his hat several yards away.
“Santa-san, Santa-san, thank you!” the girl shrieked, running to Aiba as he sat up carefully, wincing, and nearly fell flat again as she bowled him over in a hug.
“Hana-chan, let poor Santa-san sit up,” came an amused voice from above.
Aiba looked up into the face of a young man with tousled dark hair. Short and slight, he had the same impish smile as Hana-chan, who had by this time sat back on Aiba’s lap and was sternly telling Miko-chan what a bad boy he was.
“Thank you Santa-san,” said Hana-chan politely as Aiba handed her the leash.
“You’re welcome,” said Aiba, feeling a little flummoxed. The man’s face twitched, until finally, he couldn’t seem to hold it in anymore, and burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped between giggles, “But you looked so funny when you leapt out to crash tackle Hana’s dog, your beard went one way and your hat went the other.”
“My hat?” Aiba reached up to feel the top of his head, and looked around in confusion. “Oh no, my boss is going to kill me…” Patting his face, Aiba quickly rearranged his fake beard, which had fallen to hang just below his left ear.
“I see it!” Hana said suddenly, handing the dog’s leash to a surprised Aiba and darting down the sidewalk.
“Here, you better get up before your boss catches you,” said Hana’s companion, reaching out to take the leash and grasping Aiba’s gloved hand in his as Miko-chan barked enthusiastically. “And the kids are going to catch on that you’re not the real deal, Aiba-Masaki-Santa-san.”
Aiba looked at him, confused. Then he realised that his Takashimaya ID, normally on a lanyard and inside his Santa suit, had fallen free. He blushed, and carefully tucked it back inside the fuzzy collar.
Hana came running back, holding the hat carefully in both hands.
“Here’s your hat, Santa-san! Thank you for grabbing Miko-chan,” said Hana.
Aiba beamed down at her. “Thank you, Miss Hana. Look after Miko-chan, okay? And, uh, thanks,” he said, dipping his head at the man who’d helped him up.
“No problem, take care,” said the stranger, one corner of his mouth still quirked in a small half-smile.
Hana waved goodbye cheerfully as she and the young man -- her brother, maybe? Aiba wondered -- continued on their way.
“Hey, Aiba! What are you doing?” came a stern voice from Takashimaya’s doorway.
Aiba turned and his shoulders slumped. It was his boss, Higashiyama, and he did not look happy.
---
Nino looked back over his shoulder and snorted. Aiba the Santa-san was clearly being told off by his boss for leaving his post.
“Uncle Nino, do you think Santa-san will be okay?” piped up Hana, clutching Miko-chan’s leash tightly as they continued to walk. Nino settled his hat more firmly over his ears as the snow flurried around them.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Nino, remembering Aiba’s surprised, grateful smile as Nino had helped him to his feet. Nino looked back over his shoulder once more, wondering if he’d ever see Aiba again.
“Maybe you could be a Takashimaya Santa-san too? Mama says you should get a better job,” said Hana innocently, interrupting Nino’s meandering thoughts about Aiba.
Nino grimaced. He loved his sister dearly, but living with her, her husband, and his niece while he looked for an apartment with rent cheap enough to paid from the meagre wage he managed to eke out by writing video game reviews for a couple of magazines was proving difficult.
He ruffled Hana’s hair. “I don’t think I’d be a very good Santa, Hana-chan,” he replied. Miko barked in agreement, and Nino glared at him. “But I’ll talk to your mama, maybe she has other ideas.”
A small blue car pulled up next to them, the driver honking the horn.
“Hey, there’s your mama now -- give me Miko’s leash, let’s go home,” said Nino, shivering as the snow began to fall more heavily.
---
After a heated (albeit whispered, since it was after Hana had been put to bed) discussion with his sister, Nino went to bed, grumpy enough to take almost any apartment on offer.
“You need to get a proper job Nino, freelancing isn’t stable!” Her words echoed in his mind, and Nino sighed. The worst part was that she was right.
His phone buzzed, and Nino rolled over in bed, the dim blue glow showing a message from his friend Shun.
「Hey nino! heard u were looking for an apartment still? i know you don’t really want to share but i have a lead - a friend of mine is moving out to live with his girlfriend after Christmas, and it’s a really good place! lots of space and super super cheap. the other guy is a bit of an airhead apparently, but really nice」
Nino smiled grimly. He hadn’t wanted to share, but after the embarrassing scolding from his sister, he was ready to jump ship anywhere, even if it meant sharing with a kook.
「hi shun, i am DEFINITELY interested. send me the details」
---
January
Three weeks later, Nino found himself standing outside a slightly dilapidated apartment block in Yashio. He checked the address on his phone one more time, and taking a deep breath, buzzed apartment #37.
“Ah, yes, this is Ninomiya -- I’m here to look at the apartment?”
“Oh, yes, just a minute!” came a crackling voice through the intercom. There was a crashing noise in the background. “It’s fine, sorry! Please come up.”
Nino frowned. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he headed into the lobby and fidgeted as he rode the lift to the third floor. Although Shun was right in that Nino didn’t really want to share an apartment, when Nino had mentioned it to his sister, she’d laughed and said it would good for him to be a bit more social, as well as being more affordable.
“Who needs to be social anyway,” muttered Nino.
He reached up to ring the doorbell, but stumbled back with a yelp as the door burst open suddenly.
“Hi! You must be Nino -- eh?”
Nino gaped. The man’s hair was askew, sticking up every which way, and his tshirt was flecked with what looked like soy sauce and bits of soba noodles, but there was no doubting it was him.
It was the Takashimaya Santa, Aiba.
Aiba squinted at him. “Aren’t you that guy from the other day? With the dog?”
Nino stared. Even in baggy sweatpants and covered in mess, Aiba was -- there was no other word for it -- gorgeous.
No way Nino, no crushes, you don’t have time for this, Nino chided himself. He realised he was still staring, and blinked.
“It’s Aiba, right? I’m Ninomiya Kazunari -- my friend Shun said you were looking for a new roommate?”
Aiba grinned. “Yep! Come on in, sorry about the mess. I was experimenting with making soba in the kettle.” Seeing Nino’s confused look, Aiba elaborated. “To save on the washing up. And be more efficient!”
“Did it work?”
“It kind of exploded, but I think the soba bits will come off with a good scrubbing.” Aiba scratched his head as Nino laughed, and led Nino through a small living area where a large television and several boxes were stacked up -- “Sho’s picking up the rest of his gear tomorrow,” Aiba explained.
“Oh, yeah -- Shun mentioned he was moving out to live with his girlfriend?” Nino asked, following Aiba down the hall.
“Yeah, Tabe-chan! She’s really nice, though I think she’ll be okay with not having to come over here, I can be a bit, um, messy.”
“No kidding,” remarked Nino. The room that Sho had just vacated was pretty clean, but the bathroom was piled with a towering stack of toilet rolls (“I was trying to build a fort!”) and while the kitchen was reasonably tidy, the floor was sticky and the counter was covered with small origami swans (“I thought it might be fun to fold all the paper napkins.”)
“Do you have any pets?” Aiba asked. “I wasn’t sure if the dog was yours, but we’re not allowed to have animals any more.”
“No, the dog belongs to my niece. But what do you mean, ‘any more’?”
“We-ell, I had guinea pigs, and they kind of got out and started breeding, there was like twenty of them before we caught them all… anyway, my aunt owns the apartment, and she said I could keep living here as long as I promised not to keep any more animals.” Aiba looked a bit disappointed, like maybe deep down he missed all the guinea pigs.
Nino shuddered. “No, no pets at all.”
Grinning, Aiba stuck out his hand. “Okay, then it’s settled. Welcome to Ailando!”
“Don’t you want to make sure I’m not a serial killer or something?”
“Nah, I think I can read people well. You’re a good guy, Ninomiya-san, I can tell!” Aiba smiled at him, eyes crinkling, and Nino’s stomach flipped. This guy was too good to be true.
He shrugged. The rent was absurdly cheap and Aiba seemed harmless, if a bit of a goofball. A gorgeous goofball, his traitor brain reminded him.
“Ailando?”
“Short for Aibaland,” Aiba explained. “Although maybe we should call it Aininolando now. Or Ninoailando.”
“Whatever you like,” Nino replied, wondering just what he’d got himself into.
---
February
It took a couple of weeks for Nino to get himself organised (and for his brother-in-law to be free to drive his stuff over to the apartment). It was still bitterly cold, and it turned out one of the reasons that the rent was pretty cheap was that the heating wasn’t great.
“No need to worry!” said Aiba cheerfully as Nino grumbled his way around the kitchen, trying to find his favourite coffee mug. “I have a kotatsu, we can stay toasty that way.”
Oh yeah, playing footsies under the kotatsu with my cute new housemate… that’ll be great, real great, Nino thought with a sigh.
“Ninomiya-san?” Aiba asked, looking confused. “If you don’t like kotatsus, it’s okay.”
Realising he’d been making a sour face, Nino shook himself mentally and smoothed his expression. “Call me Nino. And I like kotatsus plenty, as long as the cord on my playstation will reach it.”
“I bet if it doesn’t, I could rig up some kind of extension,” Aiba offered.
Hiding a smile, Nino demurred politely. “I can probably make one of the magazines I write for send me a wireless controller, if it comes to that.”
Aiba gave him a thumbs-up with a huge smile, declaring “Free stuff is the best!” and Nino couldn’t help but grin back.
---
Spring
March
As the weather started to warm up, Nino began to meet more of Aiba’s friends. Nino had always been a bit of a loner, and it struck him how Aiba seemed to have an incredible knack for getting to know the most random people.
The buzzer rang one day in late March when Nino was holed up in his room, working on an article about Chrono Trigger that he was planning to pitch to Famitsu and hearing the thump of Aiba’s feet as his roommate raced down the hall to answer. Through his headphones, Nino heard Aiba exclaim, “Oh, Oh-chan, c’mon up!” but continued on typing.
Aiba knocked on Nino’s door. “Nino, Nino, Oh-chan’s here, you should meet him.”
“I’m working,” Nino protested, but took his headphones off and stretched his legs. Aiba could be persistent when he wanted to be.
“He brought food with him! C’mon Nino, have a break,” said Aiba, sliding open the door and poking his head in.
“Okay, but only for a bit, I really need to keep working on this article,” Nino said, following Aiba out into the living room.
Ohno Satoshi turned out to be a part-time worker at the local Lawson whom Aiba had made friends with while buying snacks one night. The food turned out to be leftover bentos and onigiri (still within their use-by date, Nino surreptitiously checked, since he suspected Aiba would eat almost anything if it was free). Ohno was small and tanned, and spoke laconically when asked of his artwork as a sculptor but blushed furiously when Aiba proudly told Nino about Ohno’s recent exhibition.
The pale afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, and Nino shifted to take advantage of the warmth, accidentally bumping his shoulder against Aiba. Aiba nudged him back and Nino felt even warmer.
“So how’d you meet Aiba?” asked Ohno, taking a sip of beer and looking Nino curiously.
Nino looked sidelong at Aiba and laughed. “He caught my niece’s runaway dog while dressed in a Santa costume.”
Ohno blinked slowly, processing this. “Neat.”
---
April/May
The trees in the park down the street from Aiba and Nino’s apartment burst into full bloom a few days before Golden Week, and Nino found himself settling into the rhythm of living with Aiba. Despite his kookiness sometimes, Aiba was a solid roommate who didn’t mind Nino’s occasional bouts of misanthropy and made an unusually good mapo tofu.
Aiba’s part-time job, much to Nino’s surprise, was at a fancy florist not far from the main strip of Omotesando.
“You work at Jardin du Illony?” asked Nino as Aiba folded an apron and tucked it into his satchel. Aiba generally left before Nino even woke up, leaving the house around 6am, but Nino was up early for a change. All Aiba had mentioned was that he worked at a florist’s shop.
Aiba straightened up and gave Nino a winning smile. “Yeah! It’s a good place to work, and it’s fun to think up nice arrangements for people.”
“I thought it was a pretty fancy place,” Nino said. “I think my sister got her wedding flowers from there.”
“What, you think I can’t be fancy? I’m very fancy!”
“Course you are,” Nino said with a smirk. “So fancy that you’ve still got natto and sesame seeds from breakfast on your face.”
“What?” Aiba exclaimed, rubbing his chin forcefully. “Where?” He strode over to where Nino was sitting at the kotatsu and bent down. “Is it off?”
“No, you’ve still got some -- here, let me,” Nino said without thinking, reaching up to swipe his thumb across Aiba’s cheek. Aiba stood stock-still, his breath warm on Nino’s wrist.
Why does he have such long eyelashes? Nino wondered absently, staring into Aiba’s brown eyes, his fingers still resting on Aiba’s smooth cheek. He wanted nothing more than to pull Aiba close and kiss him.
A loud burst of pop music suddenly blasted out from Aiba’s pocket and Nino dropped his hand from Aiba’s face as though it had burnt him. Aiba blinked, still staring at Nino, and Nino flushed with embarrassment, turning his face away.
“It’s off now, and your phone is ringing,” Nino said flatly.
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Aiba replied, looking slightly dazed as he answered the call. His face broke into a smile.
As Aiba chatted animatedly with his mother, pacing around the kitchen, Nino quietly picked himself up and shuffled softly into his bedroom, sliding the door closed behind him.
---
Summer
June
Aiba seemed to forget, or at least never brought up the ‘almost-kiss’ as Nino referred to it internally, and Nino did his best to push the memory of Aiba’s smooth skin beneath his fingers out of his mind. And without realising, he and Aiba had become fast friends, bonding over a shared love of manga, karaoke and hamburgers.
In mid-June, one of the magazines Nino wrote for offered to send him a home karaoke setup to review, and Nino jumped at the chance. In Nino’s opinion, even better than karaoke was karaoke he didn’t have to leave the house for. Aiba whooped with joy when he got home from work on a rainy, humid afternoon to find Nino surrounding by styrofoam packing and cardboard boxes.
“Yes, it’s all true -- you are home just in time for karaoke party!” said Nino, turning on the system with a dramatic flourish.
“Alright! I stopped by Lawson on the way home -- Ohno says hi, by the way -- for beers. PARTY TIME,” yelled Aiba, dropping his bag on the floor and joining Nino on the couch.
They cued up song after song, howling into the microphones and downing beers in between. Nino laughed so hard he was nearly crying as Aiba attempted a falsetto for Mariah Carey’s “Hero”.
Feeling decidedly tipsy after about an hour of singing and drinking, Nino keyed in a random combination of numbers, curious to see what song would appear. A loud screech of guitar feedback blasted through the speakers, making Aiba wince and scrabble for the remote to skip the song, some kind of heavy metal that Nino didn’t recognise.
A sudden knocking at the front door caused Nino look up in surprise.
“Eh, Aiba, are you expecting visitors?” Nino asked. Aiba shook his head.
With a shrug, Nino got up and stumbled over to answer the door. He opened it to see a young man about his age, clad in an oversized tshirt and loose shorts who looked apoplectic with rage.
“Can you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Nino furrowed his brow. “It’s three in the afternoon?” he offered, but winced as the stranger’s face nearly turned purple.
“I work night shift,” he hissed, leaning in to shake a finger right in Nino’s face. “For the love of all that’s holy, be quiet!”
Aiba suddenly appeared behind Nino’s shoulder.
“Oh, Matsujun! How are things at the club?”
“Club?” asked Nino, turn to look quizzically at Aiba.
“Matsujun here is a host! One of the best in town,” said Aiba, sending a dazzling smile Jun’s way and elbowing Nino in the back as if to say ‘Don’t say anything to piss him off’.
“Yes, well, I start work at 8 so if you guys could maybe turn it down,” said Jun, a little mollified.
“A host?” Nino hid a snicker.
“What of it?” snapped Jun. “It pays the bills.”
Holding his hands up in surrender, Nino stepped back, bumping into Aiba.
“This is Ninomiya, by the way -- he took over Sho’s room,” said Aiba cheerfully, resting his chin on Nino’s shoulder.
“I gathered that,” said Jun. Nino rolled his eyes.
“Jun is our next door neighbour! Matsujun, why don’t you come in? We have beers,” suggested Aiba.
Jun shot a look at Nino, one eyebrow raised. Nino shrugged.
“Sure, come on in. It’s a karaoke party,” said Nino.
“Oh, really? I love karaoke!” Jun replied, eyes brightening. “I have some sake, should I bring it?”
Aiba looked at Nino. Nino grinned.
“Please do!”
---
August
Days and weeks passed, and by early August Tokyo was in the grip of a heatwave. The flowers on the trees in the park down the street hung limply from the branches, barely moving in the occasional breeze that blew listlessly through the streets.
Nino lay on the floor of the living room, an ancient fan blowing warm air over his face and a damp washcloth on his forehead. He flung out one arm dramatically.
“Aiiiibaaaaaaaa, when is your aunt getting the airconditioning unit repaired?” he whined.
Aiba slouched on the couch, a frozen coolpak around his neck. Sweat glistened on his temples.
“I don’t know, Nino, she’s out of town and hasn’t returned my call, I think she might be abroad,” Aiba replied. Nino let out a despairing groan.
The apartment’s buzzer went off.
“Aiba, you get it, you’re closer,” Nino said pathetically.
“I answered the door when the NHK guy came by, it’s your turn,” Aiba said.
“No, you do it. This apartment was falsely advertised! Shun said it had aircon.”
“Oh for, jeez, all right,” Aiba said waspishly. The buzzer rang again. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled.
Nino closed his eyes and thought about relocating to Hokkaido, half-listening to Aiba speak briefly to the visitor, then head out the door. He idly wondered who it was. Maybe he could cajole Matsujun in letting him stay next door tonight; his neighbour made a very comfortable living as a host at Club Johnny and probably had aircon in every room.
Or maybe he could steal into Aiba’s room and take the better fan. Aiba slept like the dead, Nino was sure he wouldn’t notice. He could sneak in there, Aiba would be asleep, hair mussed and maybe shirtless since it was so hot… shit.
“Nino, Nino, your sister and Hana stopped by on the way to visit your parents,” Aiba said, waving a hand in front of Nino’s face. Nino opened his eyes.
“Oh, really?”
Aiba grinned. “Yep. And they’ve brought a portable airconditioner.”
Nino sat bolt upright, sending the washcloth flying and nearly smacking face first into Aiba’s shoulder as he spotted a large cardboard box sitting in the entryway.
“I owe her big time,” Nino said as he dragged the heavy box down the hall towards his room.
“Hey hey hey, where are you going with that? She said to tell you that we had to share it, so it should go in the living room!” Aiba complained.
“No way, this baby is going to turn my room into an Arctic freezer,” said Nino, panting as he slid open the the bedroom door. He tried to slam it closed, but Aiba wedged his shoulder in the space.
“If it goes in your room, I’m coming in here too,” said Aiba with an evil smile, smoothly slipping past Nino and sprawling on the tatami floor. “Your room’s bigger, anyway.”
Nino glanced sidelong at Aiba. His loose tanktop had ridden up to bare several inches of tanned stomach, and his hair was messy, sticking slightly to his forehead.
Nino swallowed. The air was thick and close, only the sound of Aiba’s breathing breaking the stillness.
Realising that he was staring again, Nino turned and knelt down to open the airconditioner box, but the image of Aiba looking up at Nino from under his eyelashes stayed burned on his mind.
“Hey, Nino?” Aiba asked, voice soft.
Nino made a noncommittal noise.
“Do you like me?”
Nino froze.
“I like you fine, Aiba-shi,” said Nino, after a pause, trying to sound breezy. He wanted to turn around, catch Aiba’s eye, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.
“Okay, good, good,” said Aiba. “Hey, shove over, I’ll help you set this thing up, since I’m totally sleeping in here tonight.”
“You are not sleeping in here, Aiba.”
“Icebox hog,” Aiba whined.
“Aiba…”
“Arctic explorer meanie. Jerk polar bear.”
“Fine.”
---
Autumn
September
Crawling out of bed on a crisp day in September, Nino rubbed his eyes and stumbled over to the low desk that housed his computer. He’d had a steady increase in requests for pieces at Famitsu over the last couple of months, and recently the editor had commended him on a feature retrospective he’d written on Vagrant Story. It had been a big boost to both his ego and his bank account, and Nino was finally starting to feel little more settled.
As his computer booted up, Nino pushed his hair back from his forehead and grabbed a notebook, jotting down ideas for potential pitches and making a note to remind himself to contact an old friend at one of the second-hand stores in Akhibara to see if they could source a hard-to-find Famicom game for him.
Nino checked his email, skimmed through a few mailing list responses, and opened a note from his Famitsu editor. His mouth fell open, and he stared at his computer in shock. The characters didn’t change.
Dear Ninomiya-san,
Based on the popularity of your recent work and strong commitment to producing quality articles for Famitsu, we are pleased to offer you a trial position as an off-site junior staff writer...
“Hey, Aiba!” he called out. After a moment, the door slid open and Aiba poked his head in, towel around his neck.
“What’s up? I was about to go to the sento, you wanna come?”
“Hmm? No, can’t. Guess what -- I’ve been offered a job!” Nino couldn’t help grinning at the look of complete surprise on his roommate’s face.
“What?” Aiba’s eyes widened, then he let out a joyous whoop. “All right, Nino! Congratulations! What job, who for, tell me everything!” Sitting in front of Nino with a thump, Aiba reached out and pulled a bewildered Nino into an unexpected hug. “I’m so happy for you,” Aiba mumbled into Nino’s ear.
Nino stiffened in surprise. Aiba’s embrace was warm and firm, completely without guile. Just like Aiba himself, really, Nino thought.
Pulling back, Aiba smiled at Nino and rested his weight back on his hands. “So? Tell me all about it!”
---
October
The days flew by as the weather became colder and the leaves started to turn. Nino commuted to Famitsu’s offices once a week, as his editor was amazingly relaxed about working from home, and his contract only required him to be present for weekly briefings. Nino could have kissed her -- working in a cubicle five days a week had been his one concern about taking the job.
As Nino pottered around the kitchen one afternoon, making coffee and trying to decide if he could be bothered going to the supermarket, Aiba came home, dropping his bag with a clatter and flopping on the couch.
“Hey Aiba, want some coffee?” asked Nino, holding up the coffee pot.
“Nah,” Aiba said, sounding despondent.
Nino frowned, and walked around to the couch. He stifled a smile; Aiba lay face-down in the cushions, arms tucked by his sides and feet hanging over the edge of the armrest.
“You want to talk about it?” offered Nino, perching on the arm of the sofa near Aiba’s head.
“Mmmf,” said Aiba into the cushion.
Nino poked him in the shoulder. “Oi, Aiba, c’mon now. What’s going on? Are there problems at work?”
Aiba made a negative noise, shaking his head.
“Your boss isn’t bothering you? I heard you say Doumoto can be kind of harsh…”
Nino leaned down as Aiba mumbled something into the cushion again.
“What?”
Aiba rolled over with a sigh, folding his arms and staring at up at Nino.
“It’s not work,” Aiba said gloomily. “It’s something else, and I can’t talk about it with you, Nino.”
Nino fell silent, feeling surprisingly hurt. In the months that he’d got to know Aiba, crush notwithstanding, he’d become unexpectedly fond of his new friend, and it stung to realise that Aiba couldn’t trust him.
“Oh. Okay, well, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” said Nino, getting up off the couch. He yelped as Aiba grabbed his wrist.
“No, no, Nino, it’s me, I’m sorry,” Aiba muttered, still holding Nino by the wrist.
“Eh?”
“Just… don’t worry about it, okay? I’m fine, it’s fine.” Aiba tilted his head back, meeting Nino’s eyes and smiled. Nino smiled back uncertainly; Aiba’s expression looked forced and uncomfortable.
“If you’re sure,” Nino said, twisting his wrist free himself from Aiba’s hold. He patted Aiba’s shoulder awkwardly, and stood up.
“Absolutely. That coffee still on offer?” Aiba asked, trying to smile brightly.
Seeing Aiba was determined to change the subject, Nino sighed internally and resigned himself to not knowing just what was bothering his friend. Still, Aiba was terrible at keeping secrets, Nino was sure he’d get it out of him eventually.
“Of course, if you’re making it,” said Nino slyly, and grinned as Aiba began to protest the injustice of it all.
---
November
‘Hey, Nino.’
What?
‘C’mere.’
Aiba’s face is flushed in the dim light of the room, pale moonlight shining on his bare shoulders. His hair is dishevelled, and he smiles mischievously, beckoning Nino to come closer.
‘Don’t you want to kiss me, Nino?’
Nino’s breath hitches in his throat.
‘Don’t you want to touch me, Nino?’
Yes. Oh god, yes.
He’s been wanting to do this for so long. Aiba’s mouth is hot and demanding, but he yields to Nino, falling back and wrapping his legs around Nino’s waist. His cock presses into Nino’s hip, and Aiba’s laughing softly now, running his hands along Nino’s shoulders, sweeping down his sides.
‘Touch me, Nino,’ Aiba whispers, leaning back and stretching his arms overhead.
Yes.
Nino’s mouth finds Aiba’s again, and the kiss is deeper this time, Nino shifting to drop kisses down Aiba’s neck, biting hard at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He presses his mouth against Aiba’s birthmark, shuddering as he remembers the first time he saw it, early in June when Aiba gave up on shirts in the apartment because it was just too hot.
There’s something in the back of his mind though, demanding his attention, and as he slides down, pressing kisses to Aiba’s stomach, wind roars in his ears and the room tip-tilts crazily.
And Nino knows he’s dreaming.
But he doesn’t want to wake up, not yet…
Not yet…
Nino sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily. His cock was hard, straining against his underwear, and he’d managed to avoid doing this for so long, but he couldn’t stand it anymore.
Shoving the waistband down, Nino took himself in hand, stroking firmly as he thought of Aiba’s wicked grin, the line of his shoulders in his crisp white work shirt, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled…
With a little gasp, Nino came.
And after he’d cleaned himself up, Nino lay in the dark for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
---
Winter II
December
Nino couldn’t help feeling like Aiba had been avoiding him lately. When he asked if Aiba wanted to come to karaoke with him and Ohno in mid-December, Aiba made a noncommittal noise and wouldn’t look Nino in the face.
“You sure? I thought you liked come to karaoke with us,” said Nino, feigning a wounded look and sniffing theatrically.
Aiba let out a little awkward laugh. “I guess I’m just busy at the moment. Doumoto asked if I could work some extra days and I’m hoping to be promoted soon, so yeah,” Aiba said.
“Hey, a promotion? That would be great! Good luck, Aiba-shi,” Nino said warmly.
“Oh, thanks. Anyway, I’m probably going to be pretty busy for a while,” Aiba replied, avoiding Nino’s eyes. “And I’m doing the Santa thing again this year, too.”
“Sure, okay,” said Nino, confused.
“Also, um, I’m, I don’t know, I’m thinking of moving out next month,” stammered Aiba in a rush.
Nino felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.
“What, really? But it’s great here! I really like living with you,” Nino protested.
Aiba fiddled with the hem of his shirt, staring at the floor. “I know, I guess, I don’t know, it’s weird…” he trailed off.
“Weird? What do you --,” Nino started, then stopped, feeling suddenly cold all over. Shit shit shit, he knows. Aiba knows. Fuck.
“Oh. Well, if that’s the case, I’ll start looking for another place,” Nino said stiffly, getting up and stalking into his room, so he didn’t see Aiba staring miserably at the floor.
After that, Nino did his best to avoid Aiba; as much as Nino liked him, he didn’t want to make things any more awkward than they had to be.
---
Late one afternoon the following week, Nino’s phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number.
[Hi Nino, this is Sakurai Sho - I used to live with Aiba, he and I are old friends.]
Nino raised an eyebrow, and tapped out a reply.
[Hi Sho. What can I do for you?]
He paced around the living room, wondering if Aiba had told Sho that Nino would be looking for somewhere else to live.
[I had a drink with Aiba the other night. He seemed really upset, is something going on?]
Nino glowered at his phone screen, and without thinking typed out a tersely candid response.
[Well, I have a massive crush on him and I think he figured it out, so he’s moving out next month, I guess so he doesn’t have to be near gross old me.]
Nino’s phone rang suddenly and he nearly dropped it in surprise.
“Hello?”
“Nino? It’s Sho. Aiba’s on shift at Takashimaya now and he tearfully confessed to me last night that he has, to use your words, a massive crush on you, so for the love of heaven go down there and sort it out before you both miss out.”
“What?” said Nino stupidly. “What did you say?”
“Aiba! Crush! You! GO!” barked Sho from the other end of the line, and hung up.
Another text message followed shortly after: a thumbs up emoji.
Nino blinked.
Then he grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door.
---
The subway was crowded with people, and when he finally emerged on to the street, Nino could barely move for the crowds. Part of the road was cordoned off for roadworks, and craning his neck, Nino saw signs for special one-day-only sales.
Night was falling, and in the dusk the stars were starting to appear. Nino’s breath clouded in front of him as he shivered, and he wished he’d grabbed a heavier coat.
Slowly moving his way down the street, Nino finally spotted Aiba near the Takashimaya, and a rush of memories flooded through him -- Miko-chan barking, the smell of grilling yakitori and the befuddled smile of Aiba the Santa-san.
“AIBA!” Nino shouted, but he was too far away. He stopped to take a deep breath, then threw himself into the mass of people, shoving to get past the slow-moving shoppers.
“Aiba!” he called out again. A tall Santa-san looked over one shoulder in confusion and Nino pushed desperately through the crowd to reach him.
“Aiba, wait, wait!” He elbowed a customer rudely, ignoring the angry admonition until he was only a few metres away.
“I like you, you great idiot!” Nino yelled.
Aiba turned, a look of surprise in his eyes.
Nino finally managed to break clear of the crowd and ran towards him, taking no notice of the surprised tuts from other shoppers until he stood right in front of Aiba. He gasped for breath, resting his gloved hands on his thighs. Straightening, Nino stepped in close, taking Aiba’s mittened hands in his own.
“I like you, Aiba Masaki,” Nino said softly.
“Oh,” said Aiba, eyes wide. “Oh,” he said again as Nino tugged at the fake beard aside, and pulled Aiba’s head down to kiss him warmly.
They broke apart, their breath making little clouds in the cold winter air.
“Merry Christmas, Aiba.”
fin
From: cutselvage
Title: Ordinary Miracles
Pairing/Focus: Aiba/Nino
Rating: R
Warnings: Tiny bit of mild sexy stuff.
Summary: Four seasons of Nino and Aiba.
Notes: I flailed a bit starting off, but rereading Twosen’s メリークリスマス translation helped me get going. With many thanks to the wonderful A for her beta skills.
Dear phrenk, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Winter
December
Snowflakes swirled gently down from the sky, and Aiba Masaki tried to regain the feeling in his toes by quietly shuffling his feet. The costume provided by the job agency didn’t mention how flimsy the black boots were, and Aiba made a mental note to wear thicker socks next time.
“Thank you for shopping at Takashimaya, Merry Christmas!” Aiba bowed as he greeted and farewelled customer after customer, all laden with shopping bags and bundled up in scarves and hats in the cold December weather. The fake beard itched his chin, but he couldn’t pull it aside to scratch in public without earning a scolding from his supervisor for “behaviour unbecoming of a Santa-san”.
Bowning enthusiastically, Aiba smiled as he caught sight of a small girl in a bright red jacket. She was proudly holding the leash of a French bulldog who wore a matching coat as they walked along the sidewalk towards Takashimaya.
Suddenly the girl screeched as the dog noticed a stall selling yakitori just a few shops past Aiba’s doorway and wrenched the leash free of her grip. “Miko-chan, Miko-chan, come back!” The dog pelted down the street, weaving between the feet of surprised shoppers as the high-pitched voice of the girl called after him.
Aiba didn’t even stop to think; he launched himself into the crowd, landing with a thump and rolling on his back with a barking Miko-chan tucked under one arm and his hat several yards away.
“Santa-san, Santa-san, thank you!” the girl shrieked, running to Aiba as he sat up carefully, wincing, and nearly fell flat again as she bowled him over in a hug.
“Hana-chan, let poor Santa-san sit up,” came an amused voice from above.
Aiba looked up into the face of a young man with tousled dark hair. Short and slight, he had the same impish smile as Hana-chan, who had by this time sat back on Aiba’s lap and was sternly telling Miko-chan what a bad boy he was.
“Thank you Santa-san,” said Hana-chan politely as Aiba handed her the leash.
“You’re welcome,” said Aiba, feeling a little flummoxed. The man’s face twitched, until finally, he couldn’t seem to hold it in anymore, and burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped between giggles, “But you looked so funny when you leapt out to crash tackle Hana’s dog, your beard went one way and your hat went the other.”
“My hat?” Aiba reached up to feel the top of his head, and looked around in confusion. “Oh no, my boss is going to kill me…” Patting his face, Aiba quickly rearranged his fake beard, which had fallen to hang just below his left ear.
“I see it!” Hana said suddenly, handing the dog’s leash to a surprised Aiba and darting down the sidewalk.
“Here, you better get up before your boss catches you,” said Hana’s companion, reaching out to take the leash and grasping Aiba’s gloved hand in his as Miko-chan barked enthusiastically. “And the kids are going to catch on that you’re not the real deal, Aiba-Masaki-Santa-san.”
Aiba looked at him, confused. Then he realised that his Takashimaya ID, normally on a lanyard and inside his Santa suit, had fallen free. He blushed, and carefully tucked it back inside the fuzzy collar.
Hana came running back, holding the hat carefully in both hands.
“Here’s your hat, Santa-san! Thank you for grabbing Miko-chan,” said Hana.
Aiba beamed down at her. “Thank you, Miss Hana. Look after Miko-chan, okay? And, uh, thanks,” he said, dipping his head at the man who’d helped him up.
“No problem, take care,” said the stranger, one corner of his mouth still quirked in a small half-smile.
Hana waved goodbye cheerfully as she and the young man -- her brother, maybe? Aiba wondered -- continued on their way.
“Hey, Aiba! What are you doing?” came a stern voice from Takashimaya’s doorway.
Aiba turned and his shoulders slumped. It was his boss, Higashiyama, and he did not look happy.
---
Nino looked back over his shoulder and snorted. Aiba the Santa-san was clearly being told off by his boss for leaving his post.
“Uncle Nino, do you think Santa-san will be okay?” piped up Hana, clutching Miko-chan’s leash tightly as they continued to walk. Nino settled his hat more firmly over his ears as the snow flurried around them.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Nino, remembering Aiba’s surprised, grateful smile as Nino had helped him to his feet. Nino looked back over his shoulder once more, wondering if he’d ever see Aiba again.
“Maybe you could be a Takashimaya Santa-san too? Mama says you should get a better job,” said Hana innocently, interrupting Nino’s meandering thoughts about Aiba.
Nino grimaced. He loved his sister dearly, but living with her, her husband, and his niece while he looked for an apartment with rent cheap enough to paid from the meagre wage he managed to eke out by writing video game reviews for a couple of magazines was proving difficult.
He ruffled Hana’s hair. “I don’t think I’d be a very good Santa, Hana-chan,” he replied. Miko barked in agreement, and Nino glared at him. “But I’ll talk to your mama, maybe she has other ideas.”
A small blue car pulled up next to them, the driver honking the horn.
“Hey, there’s your mama now -- give me Miko’s leash, let’s go home,” said Nino, shivering as the snow began to fall more heavily.
---
After a heated (albeit whispered, since it was after Hana had been put to bed) discussion with his sister, Nino went to bed, grumpy enough to take almost any apartment on offer.
“You need to get a proper job Nino, freelancing isn’t stable!” Her words echoed in his mind, and Nino sighed. The worst part was that she was right.
His phone buzzed, and Nino rolled over in bed, the dim blue glow showing a message from his friend Shun.
「Hey nino! heard u were looking for an apartment still? i know you don’t really want to share but i have a lead - a friend of mine is moving out to live with his girlfriend after Christmas, and it’s a really good place! lots of space and super super cheap. the other guy is a bit of an airhead apparently, but really nice」
Nino smiled grimly. He hadn’t wanted to share, but after the embarrassing scolding from his sister, he was ready to jump ship anywhere, even if it meant sharing with a kook.
「hi shun, i am DEFINITELY interested. send me the details」
---
January
Three weeks later, Nino found himself standing outside a slightly dilapidated apartment block in Yashio. He checked the address on his phone one more time, and taking a deep breath, buzzed apartment #37.
“Ah, yes, this is Ninomiya -- I’m here to look at the apartment?”
“Oh, yes, just a minute!” came a crackling voice through the intercom. There was a crashing noise in the background. “It’s fine, sorry! Please come up.”
Nino frowned. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he headed into the lobby and fidgeted as he rode the lift to the third floor. Although Shun was right in that Nino didn’t really want to share an apartment, when Nino had mentioned it to his sister, she’d laughed and said it would good for him to be a bit more social, as well as being more affordable.
“Who needs to be social anyway,” muttered Nino.
He reached up to ring the doorbell, but stumbled back with a yelp as the door burst open suddenly.
“Hi! You must be Nino -- eh?”
Nino gaped. The man’s hair was askew, sticking up every which way, and his tshirt was flecked with what looked like soy sauce and bits of soba noodles, but there was no doubting it was him.
It was the Takashimaya Santa, Aiba.
Aiba squinted at him. “Aren’t you that guy from the other day? With the dog?”
Nino stared. Even in baggy sweatpants and covered in mess, Aiba was -- there was no other word for it -- gorgeous.
No way Nino, no crushes, you don’t have time for this, Nino chided himself. He realised he was still staring, and blinked.
“It’s Aiba, right? I’m Ninomiya Kazunari -- my friend Shun said you were looking for a new roommate?”
Aiba grinned. “Yep! Come on in, sorry about the mess. I was experimenting with making soba in the kettle.” Seeing Nino’s confused look, Aiba elaborated. “To save on the washing up. And be more efficient!”
“Did it work?”
“It kind of exploded, but I think the soba bits will come off with a good scrubbing.” Aiba scratched his head as Nino laughed, and led Nino through a small living area where a large television and several boxes were stacked up -- “Sho’s picking up the rest of his gear tomorrow,” Aiba explained.
“Oh, yeah -- Shun mentioned he was moving out to live with his girlfriend?” Nino asked, following Aiba down the hall.
“Yeah, Tabe-chan! She’s really nice, though I think she’ll be okay with not having to come over here, I can be a bit, um, messy.”
“No kidding,” remarked Nino. The room that Sho had just vacated was pretty clean, but the bathroom was piled with a towering stack of toilet rolls (“I was trying to build a fort!”) and while the kitchen was reasonably tidy, the floor was sticky and the counter was covered with small origami swans (“I thought it might be fun to fold all the paper napkins.”)
“Do you have any pets?” Aiba asked. “I wasn’t sure if the dog was yours, but we’re not allowed to have animals any more.”
“No, the dog belongs to my niece. But what do you mean, ‘any more’?”
“We-ell, I had guinea pigs, and they kind of got out and started breeding, there was like twenty of them before we caught them all… anyway, my aunt owns the apartment, and she said I could keep living here as long as I promised not to keep any more animals.” Aiba looked a bit disappointed, like maybe deep down he missed all the guinea pigs.
Nino shuddered. “No, no pets at all.”
Grinning, Aiba stuck out his hand. “Okay, then it’s settled. Welcome to Ailando!”
“Don’t you want to make sure I’m not a serial killer or something?”
“Nah, I think I can read people well. You’re a good guy, Ninomiya-san, I can tell!” Aiba smiled at him, eyes crinkling, and Nino’s stomach flipped. This guy was too good to be true.
He shrugged. The rent was absurdly cheap and Aiba seemed harmless, if a bit of a goofball. A gorgeous goofball, his traitor brain reminded him.
“Ailando?”
“Short for Aibaland,” Aiba explained. “Although maybe we should call it Aininolando now. Or Ninoailando.”
“Whatever you like,” Nino replied, wondering just what he’d got himself into.
---
February
It took a couple of weeks for Nino to get himself organised (and for his brother-in-law to be free to drive his stuff over to the apartment). It was still bitterly cold, and it turned out one of the reasons that the rent was pretty cheap was that the heating wasn’t great.
“No need to worry!” said Aiba cheerfully as Nino grumbled his way around the kitchen, trying to find his favourite coffee mug. “I have a kotatsu, we can stay toasty that way.”
Oh yeah, playing footsies under the kotatsu with my cute new housemate… that’ll be great, real great, Nino thought with a sigh.
“Ninomiya-san?” Aiba asked, looking confused. “If you don’t like kotatsus, it’s okay.”
Realising he’d been making a sour face, Nino shook himself mentally and smoothed his expression. “Call me Nino. And I like kotatsus plenty, as long as the cord on my playstation will reach it.”
“I bet if it doesn’t, I could rig up some kind of extension,” Aiba offered.
Hiding a smile, Nino demurred politely. “I can probably make one of the magazines I write for send me a wireless controller, if it comes to that.”
Aiba gave him a thumbs-up with a huge smile, declaring “Free stuff is the best!” and Nino couldn’t help but grin back.
---
Spring
March
As the weather started to warm up, Nino began to meet more of Aiba’s friends. Nino had always been a bit of a loner, and it struck him how Aiba seemed to have an incredible knack for getting to know the most random people.
The buzzer rang one day in late March when Nino was holed up in his room, working on an article about Chrono Trigger that he was planning to pitch to Famitsu and hearing the thump of Aiba’s feet as his roommate raced down the hall to answer. Through his headphones, Nino heard Aiba exclaim, “Oh, Oh-chan, c’mon up!” but continued on typing.
Aiba knocked on Nino’s door. “Nino, Nino, Oh-chan’s here, you should meet him.”
“I’m working,” Nino protested, but took his headphones off and stretched his legs. Aiba could be persistent when he wanted to be.
“He brought food with him! C’mon Nino, have a break,” said Aiba, sliding open the door and poking his head in.
“Okay, but only for a bit, I really need to keep working on this article,” Nino said, following Aiba out into the living room.
Ohno Satoshi turned out to be a part-time worker at the local Lawson whom Aiba had made friends with while buying snacks one night. The food turned out to be leftover bentos and onigiri (still within their use-by date, Nino surreptitiously checked, since he suspected Aiba would eat almost anything if it was free). Ohno was small and tanned, and spoke laconically when asked of his artwork as a sculptor but blushed furiously when Aiba proudly told Nino about Ohno’s recent exhibition.
The pale afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, and Nino shifted to take advantage of the warmth, accidentally bumping his shoulder against Aiba. Aiba nudged him back and Nino felt even warmer.
“So how’d you meet Aiba?” asked Ohno, taking a sip of beer and looking Nino curiously.
Nino looked sidelong at Aiba and laughed. “He caught my niece’s runaway dog while dressed in a Santa costume.”
Ohno blinked slowly, processing this. “Neat.”
---
April/May
The trees in the park down the street from Aiba and Nino’s apartment burst into full bloom a few days before Golden Week, and Nino found himself settling into the rhythm of living with Aiba. Despite his kookiness sometimes, Aiba was a solid roommate who didn’t mind Nino’s occasional bouts of misanthropy and made an unusually good mapo tofu.
Aiba’s part-time job, much to Nino’s surprise, was at a fancy florist not far from the main strip of Omotesando.
“You work at Jardin du Illony?” asked Nino as Aiba folded an apron and tucked it into his satchel. Aiba generally left before Nino even woke up, leaving the house around 6am, but Nino was up early for a change. All Aiba had mentioned was that he worked at a florist’s shop.
Aiba straightened up and gave Nino a winning smile. “Yeah! It’s a good place to work, and it’s fun to think up nice arrangements for people.”
“I thought it was a pretty fancy place,” Nino said. “I think my sister got her wedding flowers from there.”
“What, you think I can’t be fancy? I’m very fancy!”
“Course you are,” Nino said with a smirk. “So fancy that you’ve still got natto and sesame seeds from breakfast on your face.”
“What?” Aiba exclaimed, rubbing his chin forcefully. “Where?” He strode over to where Nino was sitting at the kotatsu and bent down. “Is it off?”
“No, you’ve still got some -- here, let me,” Nino said without thinking, reaching up to swipe his thumb across Aiba’s cheek. Aiba stood stock-still, his breath warm on Nino’s wrist.
Why does he have such long eyelashes? Nino wondered absently, staring into Aiba’s brown eyes, his fingers still resting on Aiba’s smooth cheek. He wanted nothing more than to pull Aiba close and kiss him.
A loud burst of pop music suddenly blasted out from Aiba’s pocket and Nino dropped his hand from Aiba’s face as though it had burnt him. Aiba blinked, still staring at Nino, and Nino flushed with embarrassment, turning his face away.
“It’s off now, and your phone is ringing,” Nino said flatly.
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Aiba replied, looking slightly dazed as he answered the call. His face broke into a smile.
As Aiba chatted animatedly with his mother, pacing around the kitchen, Nino quietly picked himself up and shuffled softly into his bedroom, sliding the door closed behind him.
---
Summer
June
Aiba seemed to forget, or at least never brought up the ‘almost-kiss’ as Nino referred to it internally, and Nino did his best to push the memory of Aiba’s smooth skin beneath his fingers out of his mind. And without realising, he and Aiba had become fast friends, bonding over a shared love of manga, karaoke and hamburgers.
In mid-June, one of the magazines Nino wrote for offered to send him a home karaoke setup to review, and Nino jumped at the chance. In Nino’s opinion, even better than karaoke was karaoke he didn’t have to leave the house for. Aiba whooped with joy when he got home from work on a rainy, humid afternoon to find Nino surrounding by styrofoam packing and cardboard boxes.
“Yes, it’s all true -- you are home just in time for karaoke party!” said Nino, turning on the system with a dramatic flourish.
“Alright! I stopped by Lawson on the way home -- Ohno says hi, by the way -- for beers. PARTY TIME,” yelled Aiba, dropping his bag on the floor and joining Nino on the couch.
They cued up song after song, howling into the microphones and downing beers in between. Nino laughed so hard he was nearly crying as Aiba attempted a falsetto for Mariah Carey’s “Hero”.
Feeling decidedly tipsy after about an hour of singing and drinking, Nino keyed in a random combination of numbers, curious to see what song would appear. A loud screech of guitar feedback blasted through the speakers, making Aiba wince and scrabble for the remote to skip the song, some kind of heavy metal that Nino didn’t recognise.
A sudden knocking at the front door caused Nino look up in surprise.
“Eh, Aiba, are you expecting visitors?” Nino asked. Aiba shook his head.
With a shrug, Nino got up and stumbled over to answer the door. He opened it to see a young man about his age, clad in an oversized tshirt and loose shorts who looked apoplectic with rage.
“Can you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Nino furrowed his brow. “It’s three in the afternoon?” he offered, but winced as the stranger’s face nearly turned purple.
“I work night shift,” he hissed, leaning in to shake a finger right in Nino’s face. “For the love of all that’s holy, be quiet!”
Aiba suddenly appeared behind Nino’s shoulder.
“Oh, Matsujun! How are things at the club?”
“Club?” asked Nino, turn to look quizzically at Aiba.
“Matsujun here is a host! One of the best in town,” said Aiba, sending a dazzling smile Jun’s way and elbowing Nino in the back as if to say ‘Don’t say anything to piss him off’.
“Yes, well, I start work at 8 so if you guys could maybe turn it down,” said Jun, a little mollified.
“A host?” Nino hid a snicker.
“What of it?” snapped Jun. “It pays the bills.”
Holding his hands up in surrender, Nino stepped back, bumping into Aiba.
“This is Ninomiya, by the way -- he took over Sho’s room,” said Aiba cheerfully, resting his chin on Nino’s shoulder.
“I gathered that,” said Jun. Nino rolled his eyes.
“Jun is our next door neighbour! Matsujun, why don’t you come in? We have beers,” suggested Aiba.
Jun shot a look at Nino, one eyebrow raised. Nino shrugged.
“Sure, come on in. It’s a karaoke party,” said Nino.
“Oh, really? I love karaoke!” Jun replied, eyes brightening. “I have some sake, should I bring it?”
Aiba looked at Nino. Nino grinned.
“Please do!”
---
August
Days and weeks passed, and by early August Tokyo was in the grip of a heatwave. The flowers on the trees in the park down the street hung limply from the branches, barely moving in the occasional breeze that blew listlessly through the streets.
Nino lay on the floor of the living room, an ancient fan blowing warm air over his face and a damp washcloth on his forehead. He flung out one arm dramatically.
“Aiiiibaaaaaaaa, when is your aunt getting the airconditioning unit repaired?” he whined.
Aiba slouched on the couch, a frozen coolpak around his neck. Sweat glistened on his temples.
“I don’t know, Nino, she’s out of town and hasn’t returned my call, I think she might be abroad,” Aiba replied. Nino let out a despairing groan.
The apartment’s buzzer went off.
“Aiba, you get it, you’re closer,” Nino said pathetically.
“I answered the door when the NHK guy came by, it’s your turn,” Aiba said.
“No, you do it. This apartment was falsely advertised! Shun said it had aircon.”
“Oh for, jeez, all right,” Aiba said waspishly. The buzzer rang again. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled.
Nino closed his eyes and thought about relocating to Hokkaido, half-listening to Aiba speak briefly to the visitor, then head out the door. He idly wondered who it was. Maybe he could cajole Matsujun in letting him stay next door tonight; his neighbour made a very comfortable living as a host at Club Johnny and probably had aircon in every room.
Or maybe he could steal into Aiba’s room and take the better fan. Aiba slept like the dead, Nino was sure he wouldn’t notice. He could sneak in there, Aiba would be asleep, hair mussed and maybe shirtless since it was so hot… shit.
“Nino, Nino, your sister and Hana stopped by on the way to visit your parents,” Aiba said, waving a hand in front of Nino’s face. Nino opened his eyes.
“Oh, really?”
Aiba grinned. “Yep. And they’ve brought a portable airconditioner.”
Nino sat bolt upright, sending the washcloth flying and nearly smacking face first into Aiba’s shoulder as he spotted a large cardboard box sitting in the entryway.
“I owe her big time,” Nino said as he dragged the heavy box down the hall towards his room.
“Hey hey hey, where are you going with that? She said to tell you that we had to share it, so it should go in the living room!” Aiba complained.
“No way, this baby is going to turn my room into an Arctic freezer,” said Nino, panting as he slid open the the bedroom door. He tried to slam it closed, but Aiba wedged his shoulder in the space.
“If it goes in your room, I’m coming in here too,” said Aiba with an evil smile, smoothly slipping past Nino and sprawling on the tatami floor. “Your room’s bigger, anyway.”
Nino glanced sidelong at Aiba. His loose tanktop had ridden up to bare several inches of tanned stomach, and his hair was messy, sticking slightly to his forehead.
Nino swallowed. The air was thick and close, only the sound of Aiba’s breathing breaking the stillness.
Realising that he was staring again, Nino turned and knelt down to open the airconditioner box, but the image of Aiba looking up at Nino from under his eyelashes stayed burned on his mind.
“Hey, Nino?” Aiba asked, voice soft.
Nino made a noncommittal noise.
“Do you like me?”
Nino froze.
“I like you fine, Aiba-shi,” said Nino, after a pause, trying to sound breezy. He wanted to turn around, catch Aiba’s eye, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.
“Okay, good, good,” said Aiba. “Hey, shove over, I’ll help you set this thing up, since I’m totally sleeping in here tonight.”
“You are not sleeping in here, Aiba.”
“Icebox hog,” Aiba whined.
“Aiba…”
“Arctic explorer meanie. Jerk polar bear.”
“Fine.”
---
Autumn
September
Crawling out of bed on a crisp day in September, Nino rubbed his eyes and stumbled over to the low desk that housed his computer. He’d had a steady increase in requests for pieces at Famitsu over the last couple of months, and recently the editor had commended him on a feature retrospective he’d written on Vagrant Story. It had been a big boost to both his ego and his bank account, and Nino was finally starting to feel little more settled.
As his computer booted up, Nino pushed his hair back from his forehead and grabbed a notebook, jotting down ideas for potential pitches and making a note to remind himself to contact an old friend at one of the second-hand stores in Akhibara to see if they could source a hard-to-find Famicom game for him.
Nino checked his email, skimmed through a few mailing list responses, and opened a note from his Famitsu editor. His mouth fell open, and he stared at his computer in shock. The characters didn’t change.
Dear Ninomiya-san,
Based on the popularity of your recent work and strong commitment to producing quality articles for Famitsu, we are pleased to offer you a trial position as an off-site junior staff writer...
“Hey, Aiba!” he called out. After a moment, the door slid open and Aiba poked his head in, towel around his neck.
“What’s up? I was about to go to the sento, you wanna come?”
“Hmm? No, can’t. Guess what -- I’ve been offered a job!” Nino couldn’t help grinning at the look of complete surprise on his roommate’s face.
“What?” Aiba’s eyes widened, then he let out a joyous whoop. “All right, Nino! Congratulations! What job, who for, tell me everything!” Sitting in front of Nino with a thump, Aiba reached out and pulled a bewildered Nino into an unexpected hug. “I’m so happy for you,” Aiba mumbled into Nino’s ear.
Nino stiffened in surprise. Aiba’s embrace was warm and firm, completely without guile. Just like Aiba himself, really, Nino thought.
Pulling back, Aiba smiled at Nino and rested his weight back on his hands. “So? Tell me all about it!”
---
October
The days flew by as the weather became colder and the leaves started to turn. Nino commuted to Famitsu’s offices once a week, as his editor was amazingly relaxed about working from home, and his contract only required him to be present for weekly briefings. Nino could have kissed her -- working in a cubicle five days a week had been his one concern about taking the job.
As Nino pottered around the kitchen one afternoon, making coffee and trying to decide if he could be bothered going to the supermarket, Aiba came home, dropping his bag with a clatter and flopping on the couch.
“Hey Aiba, want some coffee?” asked Nino, holding up the coffee pot.
“Nah,” Aiba said, sounding despondent.
Nino frowned, and walked around to the couch. He stifled a smile; Aiba lay face-down in the cushions, arms tucked by his sides and feet hanging over the edge of the armrest.
“You want to talk about it?” offered Nino, perching on the arm of the sofa near Aiba’s head.
“Mmmf,” said Aiba into the cushion.
Nino poked him in the shoulder. “Oi, Aiba, c’mon now. What’s going on? Are there problems at work?”
Aiba made a negative noise, shaking his head.
“Your boss isn’t bothering you? I heard you say Doumoto can be kind of harsh…”
Nino leaned down as Aiba mumbled something into the cushion again.
“What?”
Aiba rolled over with a sigh, folding his arms and staring at up at Nino.
“It’s not work,” Aiba said gloomily. “It’s something else, and I can’t talk about it with you, Nino.”
Nino fell silent, feeling surprisingly hurt. In the months that he’d got to know Aiba, crush notwithstanding, he’d become unexpectedly fond of his new friend, and it stung to realise that Aiba couldn’t trust him.
“Oh. Okay, well, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” said Nino, getting up off the couch. He yelped as Aiba grabbed his wrist.
“No, no, Nino, it’s me, I’m sorry,” Aiba muttered, still holding Nino by the wrist.
“Eh?”
“Just… don’t worry about it, okay? I’m fine, it’s fine.” Aiba tilted his head back, meeting Nino’s eyes and smiled. Nino smiled back uncertainly; Aiba’s expression looked forced and uncomfortable.
“If you’re sure,” Nino said, twisting his wrist free himself from Aiba’s hold. He patted Aiba’s shoulder awkwardly, and stood up.
“Absolutely. That coffee still on offer?” Aiba asked, trying to smile brightly.
Seeing Aiba was determined to change the subject, Nino sighed internally and resigned himself to not knowing just what was bothering his friend. Still, Aiba was terrible at keeping secrets, Nino was sure he’d get it out of him eventually.
“Of course, if you’re making it,” said Nino slyly, and grinned as Aiba began to protest the injustice of it all.
---
November
‘Hey, Nino.’
What?
‘C’mere.’
Aiba’s face is flushed in the dim light of the room, pale moonlight shining on his bare shoulders. His hair is dishevelled, and he smiles mischievously, beckoning Nino to come closer.
‘Don’t you want to kiss me, Nino?’
Nino’s breath hitches in his throat.
‘Don’t you want to touch me, Nino?’
Yes. Oh god, yes.
He’s been wanting to do this for so long. Aiba’s mouth is hot and demanding, but he yields to Nino, falling back and wrapping his legs around Nino’s waist. His cock presses into Nino’s hip, and Aiba’s laughing softly now, running his hands along Nino’s shoulders, sweeping down his sides.
‘Touch me, Nino,’ Aiba whispers, leaning back and stretching his arms overhead.
Yes.
Nino’s mouth finds Aiba’s again, and the kiss is deeper this time, Nino shifting to drop kisses down Aiba’s neck, biting hard at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He presses his mouth against Aiba’s birthmark, shuddering as he remembers the first time he saw it, early in June when Aiba gave up on shirts in the apartment because it was just too hot.
There’s something in the back of his mind though, demanding his attention, and as he slides down, pressing kisses to Aiba’s stomach, wind roars in his ears and the room tip-tilts crazily.
And Nino knows he’s dreaming.
But he doesn’t want to wake up, not yet…
Not yet…
Nino sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily. His cock was hard, straining against his underwear, and he’d managed to avoid doing this for so long, but he couldn’t stand it anymore.
Shoving the waistband down, Nino took himself in hand, stroking firmly as he thought of Aiba’s wicked grin, the line of his shoulders in his crisp white work shirt, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled…
With a little gasp, Nino came.
And after he’d cleaned himself up, Nino lay in the dark for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
---
Winter II
December
Nino couldn’t help feeling like Aiba had been avoiding him lately. When he asked if Aiba wanted to come to karaoke with him and Ohno in mid-December, Aiba made a noncommittal noise and wouldn’t look Nino in the face.
“You sure? I thought you liked come to karaoke with us,” said Nino, feigning a wounded look and sniffing theatrically.
Aiba let out a little awkward laugh. “I guess I’m just busy at the moment. Doumoto asked if I could work some extra days and I’m hoping to be promoted soon, so yeah,” Aiba said.
“Hey, a promotion? That would be great! Good luck, Aiba-shi,” Nino said warmly.
“Oh, thanks. Anyway, I’m probably going to be pretty busy for a while,” Aiba replied, avoiding Nino’s eyes. “And I’m doing the Santa thing again this year, too.”
“Sure, okay,” said Nino, confused.
“Also, um, I’m, I don’t know, I’m thinking of moving out next month,” stammered Aiba in a rush.
Nino felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.
“What, really? But it’s great here! I really like living with you,” Nino protested.
Aiba fiddled with the hem of his shirt, staring at the floor. “I know, I guess, I don’t know, it’s weird…” he trailed off.
“Weird? What do you --,” Nino started, then stopped, feeling suddenly cold all over. Shit shit shit, he knows. Aiba knows. Fuck.
“Oh. Well, if that’s the case, I’ll start looking for another place,” Nino said stiffly, getting up and stalking into his room, so he didn’t see Aiba staring miserably at the floor.
After that, Nino did his best to avoid Aiba; as much as Nino liked him, he didn’t want to make things any more awkward than they had to be.
---
Late one afternoon the following week, Nino’s phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number.
[Hi Nino, this is Sakurai Sho - I used to live with Aiba, he and I are old friends.]
Nino raised an eyebrow, and tapped out a reply.
[Hi Sho. What can I do for you?]
He paced around the living room, wondering if Aiba had told Sho that Nino would be looking for somewhere else to live.
[I had a drink with Aiba the other night. He seemed really upset, is something going on?]
Nino glowered at his phone screen, and without thinking typed out a tersely candid response.
[Well, I have a massive crush on him and I think he figured it out, so he’s moving out next month, I guess so he doesn’t have to be near gross old me.]
Nino’s phone rang suddenly and he nearly dropped it in surprise.
“Hello?”
“Nino? It’s Sho. Aiba’s on shift at Takashimaya now and he tearfully confessed to me last night that he has, to use your words, a massive crush on you, so for the love of heaven go down there and sort it out before you both miss out.”
“What?” said Nino stupidly. “What did you say?”
“Aiba! Crush! You! GO!” barked Sho from the other end of the line, and hung up.
Another text message followed shortly after: a thumbs up emoji.
Nino blinked.
Then he grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door.
---
The subway was crowded with people, and when he finally emerged on to the street, Nino could barely move for the crowds. Part of the road was cordoned off for roadworks, and craning his neck, Nino saw signs for special one-day-only sales.
Night was falling, and in the dusk the stars were starting to appear. Nino’s breath clouded in front of him as he shivered, and he wished he’d grabbed a heavier coat.
Slowly moving his way down the street, Nino finally spotted Aiba near the Takashimaya, and a rush of memories flooded through him -- Miko-chan barking, the smell of grilling yakitori and the befuddled smile of Aiba the Santa-san.
“AIBA!” Nino shouted, but he was too far away. He stopped to take a deep breath, then threw himself into the mass of people, shoving to get past the slow-moving shoppers.
“Aiba!” he called out again. A tall Santa-san looked over one shoulder in confusion and Nino pushed desperately through the crowd to reach him.
“Aiba, wait, wait!” He elbowed a customer rudely, ignoring the angry admonition until he was only a few metres away.
“I like you, you great idiot!” Nino yelled.
Aiba turned, a look of surprise in his eyes.
Nino finally managed to break clear of the crowd and ran towards him, taking no notice of the surprised tuts from other shoppers until he stood right in front of Aiba. He gasped for breath, resting his gloved hands on his thighs. Straightening, Nino stepped in close, taking Aiba’s mittened hands in his own.
“I like you, Aiba Masaki,” Nino said softly.
“Oh,” said Aiba, eyes wide. “Oh,” he said again as Nino tugged at the fake beard aside, and pulled Aiba’s head down to kiss him warmly.
They broke apart, their breath making little clouds in the cold winter air.
“Merry Christmas, Aiba.”
fin