clockwork
Title: Clockwork
Pairing(s): Ohno/Nino
Rating: R
Word Count: 1976
Summary: There's a clock on Ohno's wall, right across from his bed. (Also in this one, Ohno is a machine, Nino doesn't know the limits of his own body, and there are puppies and Aiba/Jun. Who's on crack, now?)
Notes: 26 minutes be possible, yo! These guys train! Original post.
Over Ohno's shoulder Nino can see the clock--fat, gigantic, one of those rustic European ones that somehow found its way into Ohno's room. It looks out of place amongst all the sketches and reference materials Ohno has tacked to the wall, but there's an aura of space around it, as if it repels everything within an inch of its frame simply because it's just different.
Above him, Nino can hear Ohno muttering, the sound dropping to nothing and then rising up again as Ohno shifts. He does this a lot in the middle of sex, and Nino finds it endearingly and hopelessly cute, if a little strange (but when isn't Oh-chan strange). Usually Nino tries to pay attention to what Ohno's saying, but he's come to find it's really just a lot of random gibberish punctuated with tiny, breathless Ninos.
"Ah," Ohno's breathing hitches as he's on the downtake, forehead resting above Nino's chest, shifting forward. "Nino…"
Nino smiles, stupidly, boyishly, knocking noses with his boyfriend on purpose. "That wasn't my fault," he snickers.
Every time they do it, it's a game to Nino. It's not that he's trying to belittle the act, or mock it--on the contrary he is, in his own words, 'making it more enjoyable as the days go on.'
Ohno says, that sounds like there's not too many days of this left, and Nino looks at him, pretend-hurt all over his face, and says, no, I am a very creative man, Satoshi. And Ohno agrees.
First it was a pattern of real games, starting with shiritori (it went on for awhile until Ohno, lost in concentration, kept forgetting the previous word), tic-tac-toe (with chocolate syrup--but even Nino won't divulge much about that story), and janken (which had resulted in Ohno naughtily scissoring his fingers together over Nino's fisted rock). Then, when they got bored of that, it became more of a mind, a physiological, thing--on a certain Wednesday, Ohno proposed to Nino a certain situation:
"You pretend you're MatsuJun," he'd said, whispering in their empty room, centimeters away from Nino's mouth, as if his thoughts were much too filthy to be said in a real voice, "and I'll be Aiba-kun."
Nino snorted, already tugging on his shirt. "Only if I can be Sho-kun next."
(He was, and Ohno became Nino.)
"That was kinda dirty," Ohno had said afterwards, panting hard, watching as Nino threw his tie to the corner of the room.
Nino grinned. "No, it was really dirty."
Then, "And you weren't bitchy enough as Jun-kun. I guess we'll have to work on that."
They don't speak of that in public, not even when drunk, and especially not around Sho (but Nino once slipped to a completely wasted MatsuJun and Aiba, who were both, while completely disgusted by the idea, still eerily fascinated (one against his will)).
And after that, it's a free-for-all, a carnival of sorts--Nino has recalled saying, let's pretend we're on camera, while Ohno once expressed a desire to be completely and utterly silent (which was nice, Nino remembers; he likes Ohno's eyes, and will take any chance he can to really look into them, even when they're shut).
Today, as Nino was huddled over the stove, making their dinner, Ohno had come up behind him, smelling like dry sweat (they still hadn't showered, and practice was rough) and laundry detergent, and said, "So, today--."
Nino did not bother to look up. "Let's see," he said, fiddling with the knobs on the stove, "how long you can last, Oh-chan, without going too fast."
Ohno laughed, hands coming up to Nino's shoulders, squeezing playfully. "Whose definition of 'fast' are we going by?"
"Fast, like," Nino answered, finally getting the stove to fire properly, "that one time we did location with the granny cheerleaders, and how fast it took you then to learn that dance--"
Ohno moved away to sulk (magnificently, as only Ohno can). Nino heard him slink off and said cheerfully, "Yes, well, it'll be fun!"
So they're here, now, tangled in some complicated pretzel, and seven minutes have since passed. Nino is watching the clock move in its slow, doomed way, each second ticking off another small burst in Nino's stomach, a tiny firework of sorts that makes his belly spasm and his insides jerk--
"How long--?" Ohno gasps, dripping sweat from the ends of his hair. Nino tears his eyes away from the clock on the wall for a second to watch the tendons in Ohno's neck move, the subtle variance in skin tone as he swallows, hard.
"Ten minutes," Nino answers, voice still relatively calm. He doesn't add how this is as long as he can take it, because that would ruin everything and he would hate himself--he also simply can't find the energy to say anything more. All the thoughts in his head have become purely concentrated into one tight ball of sex, into don't you dare come, motherfucker, don't you dare--
Nino should have anticipated this. No matter how much stronger he is than Sho he's still weaker than Ohno, especially when it comes to stamina and endurance, and the build-up of pleasure he had hoped would lead Ohno to snap is instead tearing him apart. He's hysterical; every cell in his body is screaming Ohno's name to the tempo of the secondhand.
"Ah, long time, ne," says Ohno like he's talking about the weather, the fucking weather.
Nino says, "Yeah, a fucking long time," and it comes out more like a cross between a hiss and a growl--but Ohno likes that, and makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat, barely noticeable (but Nino always notices).
"Do you like the way I say that?" Nino says now, running a shaky hand through his drenched hair and then moving to Ohno's neck, "do you like the way it's not just fucking, it's fucking--yeah, you do, Satoshi, don't you, you like that first bite, you like the cck sound, it makes you feel good inside, doesn't it--"
He splays his fingers, then curls them in as Ohno starts to mutter again, this time more urgently, with less breath. Nino thinks, maybe I can win this--
His eyes flick from the hellish clock to Ohno's face, one to the other, faster and faster until eventually they blur into one thing and Ohno is the one who's ticking, like a bomb yet to go off. Fifteen minutes, Nino whines in his head. Just not twenty--God not twenty--
"Say it again," Ohno grunts suddenly, body slick, moving just a bit quicker, "say that again--"
"What, Oh-chan?" Nino smirks, despite his inner hysteria, "fuh--no, wait, why don't you make me say it."
Ohno's knees knock into Nino's legs and he can feel it, through their connection, he can feel the way the coil is slowly loosening, bit by bit. "Come on, Kazu," Ohno moans--it's the first one of the entire evening, even though he's completely soaked in his and Nino's sweat. "Just say it--just--"
"You're making this harder on yourself," Nino whispers, if only because he's afraid that if he raises his voice he'll scream. "You've gone longer, I know, come on, Satoshi--"
Inside his head, though, it's a different story altogether. Just let go, just come, come on--
Ohno moans again. Nino feels a surge in his stomach, different from the already-present ache--it says something like, you damn stubborn bastard. But he ignores it; channels it out through his lips instead--
"You damn stubborn bastard," Nino growls, "you want to win, don't you."
"No," Ohno replies, without hesitation, and there's a change in his tone. "I know I can win," he says, like he's known it all along.
In his present state Nino is not so alert, and gasps when Ohno leans down to lick a solid trail from Nino's collarbone up to the corner of his lips and then kisses the spot. "You're the stubborn one," Ohno says, giggling slightly. "You'll lose."
"Wh--?" Nino begins to say, then cries out, completely surprised, when Ohno changes his angle just an inch to the left. The smile on his face is brilliant and victorious and Nino wants to scream and kick and throw a tantrum but he's too busy trying to blink away the stars behind his eyelids--he's too busy trying to keep in control when clearly, he's out of it.
"Hm, Ohno mumbles, glancing quickly behind his shoulder, "Twenty-three minutes--this is a record, for you."
"You fu--," Nino groans, hips arching, eyes screwed shut, willing every part of his body to just hold on for one more second, "you fucking--"
"Sorry, Kazu-chan," Ohno laughs, reaching up to stroke Nino's cheek--and the gesture seems so out of place, but it makes Nino moan anyway--, "you lose."
He thrusts against Nino one more time, knocking their hipbones together and grinding--it reminds Nino of how they dance backstage, it reminds him of--oh God, if only he could think right now, but Nino loses it completely right then. He doesn't even care about the damn clock anymore, doesn't care about how he'll never beat Ohno's record time of twenty-six minutes with his right hand--he just goes, and as he starts to come hears the chime of the hour play--ding…ding...ding...six...o'...clock.
Nino attempts to hold some sense of balance and thinks, ah, wait, keep up! as his brain and body go wild, he tries to control the waves that come over him but really, he was never a great swimmer. Vaguely he feels Ohno's nose poking around in the hollow of Nino's throat, like a puppy seeking comfort or play--Nino's still shaking, and trying to catch his breath, and is a little annoyed at the puppy squirming around on top of him but he can't ignore it even if he tried.
"Ahh," he breathes, finally settling down, but he still feels electric, like if he rubbed his hands together they would burn. "I hate you," he tells Ohno, throwing a hand over his face just for the effect. "Hate you."
Ohno laughs loudly, only it comes out slightly muffled; he's still nosing around Nino's neck. "Didn't you say this would be fun?"
"Oh yes," replies Nino dryly. "It was loads of fun, I bet, for you--"
But Ohno is up, now, and turning them both around so that he's the one lying on his back. He says, "It'll be fun for you, don't worry," and moves them around a little so that Nino is curled up on Ohno's torso, completely strung-out--but still, of course, up for anything.
"What," Nino says, confused. Then he notices where he is. "--oh."
"Yeah," Ohno says, smiling. "Sorry, you were the only one."
Nino, who is still miffed at the reverse victory, sits up on Ohno's stomach and folds his arms over his chest. "What was your record again?" he asks.
Ohno pretends to think. "Twenty-six minutes, but with--." He holds up his right hand. "You weren't there. Well, you were, but on the phone--."
"Mmm," hums Nino, and slowly begins to slide down Ohno until his chin bumps against something hard--yes, hipbones, he thinks, and feels around with his lips just to make sure he's going in the right direction. "Why don't we go for thirty-six right now?" he proposes, wiggling his fingers on Ohno's stomach and scratching a little with just the tips of his nails. "--If you can, that is…"
He hears Ohno whimper; at the same time his thighs go taut. As Nino opens his mouth, he steals a quick glance at the clock and marks the time in his head --start time, six oh-two, he thinks, end time--six-ten on the dot.
tiny note of explanation: in reference to the location with the granny cheerleaders. basically, they had to learn this dance, and nino got it all in seconds, whereas it took ohno about three quarters of the episode to get down properly. it was hilarious.
Pairing(s): Ohno/Nino
Rating: R
Word Count: 1976
Summary: There's a clock on Ohno's wall, right across from his bed. (Also in this one, Ohno is a machine, Nino doesn't know the limits of his own body, and there are puppies and Aiba/Jun. Who's on crack, now?)
Notes: 26 minutes be possible, yo! These guys train! Original post.
Over Ohno's shoulder Nino can see the clock--fat, gigantic, one of those rustic European ones that somehow found its way into Ohno's room. It looks out of place amongst all the sketches and reference materials Ohno has tacked to the wall, but there's an aura of space around it, as if it repels everything within an inch of its frame simply because it's just different.
Above him, Nino can hear Ohno muttering, the sound dropping to nothing and then rising up again as Ohno shifts. He does this a lot in the middle of sex, and Nino finds it endearingly and hopelessly cute, if a little strange (but when isn't Oh-chan strange). Usually Nino tries to pay attention to what Ohno's saying, but he's come to find it's really just a lot of random gibberish punctuated with tiny, breathless Ninos.
"Ah," Ohno's breathing hitches as he's on the downtake, forehead resting above Nino's chest, shifting forward. "Nino…"
Nino smiles, stupidly, boyishly, knocking noses with his boyfriend on purpose. "That wasn't my fault," he snickers.
Every time they do it, it's a game to Nino. It's not that he's trying to belittle the act, or mock it--on the contrary he is, in his own words, 'making it more enjoyable as the days go on.'
Ohno says, that sounds like there's not too many days of this left, and Nino looks at him, pretend-hurt all over his face, and says, no, I am a very creative man, Satoshi. And Ohno agrees.
First it was a pattern of real games, starting with shiritori (it went on for awhile until Ohno, lost in concentration, kept forgetting the previous word), tic-tac-toe (with chocolate syrup--but even Nino won't divulge much about that story), and janken (which had resulted in Ohno naughtily scissoring his fingers together over Nino's fisted rock). Then, when they got bored of that, it became more of a mind, a physiological, thing--on a certain Wednesday, Ohno proposed to Nino a certain situation:
"You pretend you're MatsuJun," he'd said, whispering in their empty room, centimeters away from Nino's mouth, as if his thoughts were much too filthy to be said in a real voice, "and I'll be Aiba-kun."
Nino snorted, already tugging on his shirt. "Only if I can be Sho-kun next."
(He was, and Ohno became Nino.)
"That was kinda dirty," Ohno had said afterwards, panting hard, watching as Nino threw his tie to the corner of the room.
Nino grinned. "No, it was really dirty."
Then, "And you weren't bitchy enough as Jun-kun. I guess we'll have to work on that."
They don't speak of that in public, not even when drunk, and especially not around Sho (but Nino once slipped to a completely wasted MatsuJun and Aiba, who were both, while completely disgusted by the idea, still eerily fascinated (one against his will)).
And after that, it's a free-for-all, a carnival of sorts--Nino has recalled saying, let's pretend we're on camera, while Ohno once expressed a desire to be completely and utterly silent (which was nice, Nino remembers; he likes Ohno's eyes, and will take any chance he can to really look into them, even when they're shut).
Today, as Nino was huddled over the stove, making their dinner, Ohno had come up behind him, smelling like dry sweat (they still hadn't showered, and practice was rough) and laundry detergent, and said, "So, today--."
Nino did not bother to look up. "Let's see," he said, fiddling with the knobs on the stove, "how long you can last, Oh-chan, without going too fast."
Ohno laughed, hands coming up to Nino's shoulders, squeezing playfully. "Whose definition of 'fast' are we going by?"
"Fast, like," Nino answered, finally getting the stove to fire properly, "that one time we did location with the granny cheerleaders, and how fast it took you then to learn that dance--"
Ohno moved away to sulk (magnificently, as only Ohno can). Nino heard him slink off and said cheerfully, "Yes, well, it'll be fun!"
So they're here, now, tangled in some complicated pretzel, and seven minutes have since passed. Nino is watching the clock move in its slow, doomed way, each second ticking off another small burst in Nino's stomach, a tiny firework of sorts that makes his belly spasm and his insides jerk--
"How long--?" Ohno gasps, dripping sweat from the ends of his hair. Nino tears his eyes away from the clock on the wall for a second to watch the tendons in Ohno's neck move, the subtle variance in skin tone as he swallows, hard.
"Ten minutes," Nino answers, voice still relatively calm. He doesn't add how this is as long as he can take it, because that would ruin everything and he would hate himself--he also simply can't find the energy to say anything more. All the thoughts in his head have become purely concentrated into one tight ball of sex, into don't you dare come, motherfucker, don't you dare--
Nino should have anticipated this. No matter how much stronger he is than Sho he's still weaker than Ohno, especially when it comes to stamina and endurance, and the build-up of pleasure he had hoped would lead Ohno to snap is instead tearing him apart. He's hysterical; every cell in his body is screaming Ohno's name to the tempo of the secondhand.
"Ah, long time, ne," says Ohno like he's talking about the weather, the fucking weather.
Nino says, "Yeah, a fucking long time," and it comes out more like a cross between a hiss and a growl--but Ohno likes that, and makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat, barely noticeable (but Nino always notices).
"Do you like the way I say that?" Nino says now, running a shaky hand through his drenched hair and then moving to Ohno's neck, "do you like the way it's not just fucking, it's fucking--yeah, you do, Satoshi, don't you, you like that first bite, you like the cck sound, it makes you feel good inside, doesn't it--"
He splays his fingers, then curls them in as Ohno starts to mutter again, this time more urgently, with less breath. Nino thinks, maybe I can win this--
His eyes flick from the hellish clock to Ohno's face, one to the other, faster and faster until eventually they blur into one thing and Ohno is the one who's ticking, like a bomb yet to go off. Fifteen minutes, Nino whines in his head. Just not twenty--God not twenty--
"Say it again," Ohno grunts suddenly, body slick, moving just a bit quicker, "say that again--"
"What, Oh-chan?" Nino smirks, despite his inner hysteria, "fuh--no, wait, why don't you make me say it."
Ohno's knees knock into Nino's legs and he can feel it, through their connection, he can feel the way the coil is slowly loosening, bit by bit. "Come on, Kazu," Ohno moans--it's the first one of the entire evening, even though he's completely soaked in his and Nino's sweat. "Just say it--just--"
"You're making this harder on yourself," Nino whispers, if only because he's afraid that if he raises his voice he'll scream. "You've gone longer, I know, come on, Satoshi--"
Inside his head, though, it's a different story altogether. Just let go, just come, come on--
Ohno moans again. Nino feels a surge in his stomach, different from the already-present ache--it says something like, you damn stubborn bastard. But he ignores it; channels it out through his lips instead--
"You damn stubborn bastard," Nino growls, "you want to win, don't you."
"No," Ohno replies, without hesitation, and there's a change in his tone. "I know I can win," he says, like he's known it all along.
In his present state Nino is not so alert, and gasps when Ohno leans down to lick a solid trail from Nino's collarbone up to the corner of his lips and then kisses the spot. "You're the stubborn one," Ohno says, giggling slightly. "You'll lose."
"Wh--?" Nino begins to say, then cries out, completely surprised, when Ohno changes his angle just an inch to the left. The smile on his face is brilliant and victorious and Nino wants to scream and kick and throw a tantrum but he's too busy trying to blink away the stars behind his eyelids--he's too busy trying to keep in control when clearly, he's out of it.
"Hm, Ohno mumbles, glancing quickly behind his shoulder, "Twenty-three minutes--this is a record, for you."
"You fu--," Nino groans, hips arching, eyes screwed shut, willing every part of his body to just hold on for one more second, "you fucking--"
"Sorry, Kazu-chan," Ohno laughs, reaching up to stroke Nino's cheek--and the gesture seems so out of place, but it makes Nino moan anyway--, "you lose."
He thrusts against Nino one more time, knocking their hipbones together and grinding--it reminds Nino of how they dance backstage, it reminds him of--oh God, if only he could think right now, but Nino loses it completely right then. He doesn't even care about the damn clock anymore, doesn't care about how he'll never beat Ohno's record time of twenty-six minutes with his right hand--he just goes, and as he starts to come hears the chime of the hour play--ding…ding...ding...six...o'...clock.
Nino attempts to hold some sense of balance and thinks, ah, wait, keep up! as his brain and body go wild, he tries to control the waves that come over him but really, he was never a great swimmer. Vaguely he feels Ohno's nose poking around in the hollow of Nino's throat, like a puppy seeking comfort or play--Nino's still shaking, and trying to catch his breath, and is a little annoyed at the puppy squirming around on top of him but he can't ignore it even if he tried.
"Ahh," he breathes, finally settling down, but he still feels electric, like if he rubbed his hands together they would burn. "I hate you," he tells Ohno, throwing a hand over his face just for the effect. "Hate you."
Ohno laughs loudly, only it comes out slightly muffled; he's still nosing around Nino's neck. "Didn't you say this would be fun?"
"Oh yes," replies Nino dryly. "It was loads of fun, I bet, for you--"
But Ohno is up, now, and turning them both around so that he's the one lying on his back. He says, "It'll be fun for you, don't worry," and moves them around a little so that Nino is curled up on Ohno's torso, completely strung-out--but still, of course, up for anything.
"What," Nino says, confused. Then he notices where he is. "--oh."
"Yeah," Ohno says, smiling. "Sorry, you were the only one."
Nino, who is still miffed at the reverse victory, sits up on Ohno's stomach and folds his arms over his chest. "What was your record again?" he asks.
Ohno pretends to think. "Twenty-six minutes, but with--." He holds up his right hand. "You weren't there. Well, you were, but on the phone--."
"Mmm," hums Nino, and slowly begins to slide down Ohno until his chin bumps against something hard--yes, hipbones, he thinks, and feels around with his lips just to make sure he's going in the right direction. "Why don't we go for thirty-six right now?" he proposes, wiggling his fingers on Ohno's stomach and scratching a little with just the tips of his nails. "--If you can, that is…"
He hears Ohno whimper; at the same time his thighs go taut. As Nino opens his mouth, he steals a quick glance at the clock and marks the time in his head --start time, six oh-two, he thinks, end time--six-ten on the dot.
tiny note of explanation: in reference to the location with the granny cheerleaders. basically, they had to learn this dance, and nino got it all in seconds, whereas it took ohno about three quarters of the episode to get down properly. it was hilarious.