ohmiya sk
The secret behind the looks, the giggles and the undeniable connection of the famous duo.Welcome to Ohmiya SK's Himitsu!
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Monday 3 March 2008
None- Velvetgunfire
Title: None
Author: Velvetgunfire
Rating: G
Summary: Nino contemplates on Ohno.
Nino thinks it's important to fight with each one of your friends at least once, to break that thin veneer of civility and crawl under the surface, live in their guts. Kind of like showering with them, but on a mental level. People are all animals; so he believes -- maybe you should know your friends on the level of their bestial selves, so you know exactly what to expect if they snap and you're in for it.
Sho's so easily provoked, it's not even a challenge.
Ohno gives up easily, during their trainee days, he tried everything exactly once before giving up; Nino doesn't figure that it'll be much of a problem to get under his skin then.
Besides, Ohno's skin is what he wants to crawl under, live in for a bit -- Ohno's interesting, the distant places of his mind -- Aiba's too easy to pick on, like kicking a puppy, and Jun just has too many weak points that're easy to worry at.
Besides, Nino likes to play games.
.
Ohno keeps letting him win.
Even shiritori, they play it till they're bored (but more than likely Ohno was bored of it long ago); and Ohno falls asleep on his shoulder, the dark drawing down outside the windows of the tour bus, enclosing them. Travelling on.
In concerts, Ohno and Aiba are the easiest to bully in the MC, for the amusement of the crowd. Ohno will smile but not retaliate, his wide-eyed smile with drawn brows, half bewildered and half lost and allowing it all, and Nino holds his tongue to keep in all the words that want to spill out, harsh words to cut him and leave him vulnerable, broken; tender words to touch him.
Ohno's stronger than that. Sometimes it's hard to remember when he looks at you with that hint of fear in his eyes, just like the time he was mesmerised on some variety show -- Nino forgets the specifics of the show, but what he does remember is the strange racing of his heart -- when Ohno forgot his name, Arashi's name, and looked at them, so beautifully lost. The cool touch of bare fear, eyes searching for a familiar face.
"Come, let me, let me," Nino says, sliding his soap-lathered palms over the warm planes of Ohno's back, and Ohno sighs a little. One shower cubicle too few and he's the one who ended up with Ohno in his.
"Feels good," Ohno murmurs, and he kneads reflexively at the bunched muscle of Ohno's shoulders, feeling them relax beneath his soapy grip. After concerts they are at once too tired to stay awake and too wired to sleep. The energy buzzes beneath his skin like a shorted circuit -- running and nowhere to go. Wanting, a deeper wanting.
People expect it of them, this easy camaraderie.
Ohno lets out a breath, a short harsh exhalation, and reaches for him. He jumps at the touch of fingers to his bare shoulder. The water's hot and steams up the tiny cubicle.
.
Ohno is -- spacey -- well and thoroughly, but there's something strong in him, so deep no one can access it. Like a subterranean river. So Nino says, Ohchan's the most adult of them, though he doesn't look it.
He's different when he's singing, too. Or acting in a play. Watching Ohno in a play thrills Nino, as if something's been uncovered, that spark of delight and stir of possession that detests all the audience around him -- it should be him, and him alone, watching.
The blood on his lips the sword and the hunger. Sound of grief. In the audience, Nino touches his fingertips to his lips, reflexively.
.
"Bye ja," she says, so adorably, the sound round like a berry in the mouth, and Nino thinks of her kissable lips and grins, flipping the keitai shut.
"I'll see you later," Nino says, people can probably see the foolish grin on his face. It's always like that when he's newly in love.
"Ah, girlfriend?" Ohno grins at him, a co-conspirator. There's something else he's looking for when he glances up at Ohno's expression, but he can't quite pinpoint what it is, himself. His happiness crumples a little in him, like the subtlest of disappointments.
"Ah, yes," he says, and the grin is not as real as it was a moment ago. Ohno continues to smile at him, earnest like a little boy -- pleased as if Nino's bitten into a sticky pie of cherries and offered him a bite too.
Ohno winks -- Ohno who'd prefer to fantasize about a girl than gather up the courage to ask her out, but why is Nino thinking about that now? -- and wanders off, the stylist scuttling after him to rearrange some tufts of his hair and usher him off to his section of the photoshoot. He looks like a lost child. Nino feels the smile creep back and dismisses it with a press of his lips.
.
The parting for the day is the same as yesterday, the week before. As if it's certain they're going to see each other again, tomorrow, the next day, and the next.
"Bye," Ohno says, smiling. Nino lifts his hand, gives Ohno a crooked half-smile, watches his back as he disappears down the train station stairs. The clouds sweep overhead, evening dusk moving in like the tide.
.
Night rain falling, cool, puffs of breeze sneaking in through the curtains, chill little caresses on skin. He shivers. Out there somewhere in the enormous night cars speed away, the noise of the engines dropping to a whine; shutters clanging, empty-sounding.
He thinks of Ohno out there somewhere too, wonders what he's doing. As if by thinking of Ohno an invisible thread binds them through the huge void of night, in his imagination he follows it all the way through the dark to somewhere, where Ohno is sitting in a little puddle of light in his living-room, hands moulding a little figure of clay. The scraps lie all about him, dregs of earth.
Thunder rumbles low through the air, the same rain through Ohno's window. It's cool fresh scent, haunting Nino. The longing fills him so suddenly it is as if it's been there all along.
Author: Velvetgunfire
Rating: G
Summary: Nino contemplates on Ohno.
Nino thinks it's important to fight with each one of your friends at least once, to break that thin veneer of civility and crawl under the surface, live in their guts. Kind of like showering with them, but on a mental level. People are all animals; so he believes -- maybe you should know your friends on the level of their bestial selves, so you know exactly what to expect if they snap and you're in for it.
Sho's so easily provoked, it's not even a challenge.
Ohno gives up easily, during their trainee days, he tried everything exactly once before giving up; Nino doesn't figure that it'll be much of a problem to get under his skin then.
Besides, Ohno's skin is what he wants to crawl under, live in for a bit -- Ohno's interesting, the distant places of his mind -- Aiba's too easy to pick on, like kicking a puppy, and Jun just has too many weak points that're easy to worry at.
Besides, Nino likes to play games.
.
Ohno keeps letting him win.
Even shiritori, they play it till they're bored (but more than likely Ohno was bored of it long ago); and Ohno falls asleep on his shoulder, the dark drawing down outside the windows of the tour bus, enclosing them. Travelling on.
In concerts, Ohno and Aiba are the easiest to bully in the MC, for the amusement of the crowd. Ohno will smile but not retaliate, his wide-eyed smile with drawn brows, half bewildered and half lost and allowing it all, and Nino holds his tongue to keep in all the words that want to spill out, harsh words to cut him and leave him vulnerable, broken; tender words to touch him.
Ohno's stronger than that. Sometimes it's hard to remember when he looks at you with that hint of fear in his eyes, just like the time he was mesmerised on some variety show -- Nino forgets the specifics of the show, but what he does remember is the strange racing of his heart -- when Ohno forgot his name, Arashi's name, and looked at them, so beautifully lost. The cool touch of bare fear, eyes searching for a familiar face.
"Come, let me, let me," Nino says, sliding his soap-lathered palms over the warm planes of Ohno's back, and Ohno sighs a little. One shower cubicle too few and he's the one who ended up with Ohno in his.
"Feels good," Ohno murmurs, and he kneads reflexively at the bunched muscle of Ohno's shoulders, feeling them relax beneath his soapy grip. After concerts they are at once too tired to stay awake and too wired to sleep. The energy buzzes beneath his skin like a shorted circuit -- running and nowhere to go. Wanting, a deeper wanting.
People expect it of them, this easy camaraderie.
Ohno lets out a breath, a short harsh exhalation, and reaches for him. He jumps at the touch of fingers to his bare shoulder. The water's hot and steams up the tiny cubicle.
.
Ohno is -- spacey -- well and thoroughly, but there's something strong in him, so deep no one can access it. Like a subterranean river. So Nino says, Ohchan's the most adult of them, though he doesn't look it.
He's different when he's singing, too. Or acting in a play. Watching Ohno in a play thrills Nino, as if something's been uncovered, that spark of delight and stir of possession that detests all the audience around him -- it should be him, and him alone, watching.
The blood on his lips the sword and the hunger. Sound of grief. In the audience, Nino touches his fingertips to his lips, reflexively.
.
"Bye ja," she says, so adorably, the sound round like a berry in the mouth, and Nino thinks of her kissable lips and grins, flipping the keitai shut.
"I'll see you later," Nino says, people can probably see the foolish grin on his face. It's always like that when he's newly in love.
"Ah, girlfriend?" Ohno grins at him, a co-conspirator. There's something else he's looking for when he glances up at Ohno's expression, but he can't quite pinpoint what it is, himself. His happiness crumples a little in him, like the subtlest of disappointments.
"Ah, yes," he says, and the grin is not as real as it was a moment ago. Ohno continues to smile at him, earnest like a little boy -- pleased as if Nino's bitten into a sticky pie of cherries and offered him a bite too.
Ohno winks -- Ohno who'd prefer to fantasize about a girl than gather up the courage to ask her out, but why is Nino thinking about that now? -- and wanders off, the stylist scuttling after him to rearrange some tufts of his hair and usher him off to his section of the photoshoot. He looks like a lost child. Nino feels the smile creep back and dismisses it with a press of his lips.
.
The parting for the day is the same as yesterday, the week before. As if it's certain they're going to see each other again, tomorrow, the next day, and the next.
"Bye," Ohno says, smiling. Nino lifts his hand, gives Ohno a crooked half-smile, watches his back as he disappears down the train station stairs. The clouds sweep overhead, evening dusk moving in like the tide.
.
Night rain falling, cool, puffs of breeze sneaking in through the curtains, chill little caresses on skin. He shivers. Out there somewhere in the enormous night cars speed away, the noise of the engines dropping to a whine; shutters clanging, empty-sounding.
He thinks of Ohno out there somewhere too, wonders what he's doing. As if by thinking of Ohno an invisible thread binds them through the huge void of night, in his imagination he follows it all the way through the dark to somewhere, where Ohno is sitting in a little puddle of light in his living-room, hands moulding a little figure of clay. The scraps lie all about him, dregs of earth.
Thunder rumbles low through the air, the same rain through Ohno's window. It's cool fresh scent, haunting Nino. The longing fills him so suddenly it is as if it's been there all along.
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