[Arashi] Definition
[Title] Definition
[Author] honooko
[Rating] R
[Notes] Sakumiya! I found a bit on my laptop and then it spiraled out of control. ._.
Sho doesn’t know what to call what he feels for Nino other than to say he knows what it isn’t. It isn’t just friendship, or just affection, or just brotherly. At times it is all of these things, but it’s also more, and he struggles with that distinction.
He asks Jun over drinks, because Jun is sensible and a Good Guy no matter what the DoS image may suggest, and because Jun understands people the same sort of way Nino does; instinctually.
“Attachment?” Jun suggests with an elegant shrug. He is relatively unconcerned with terminology and always has been. “Does it matter? It’s Nino, you like him, and that’s really all that counts.”
“It does matter,” Sho argues, his face intense and his mind settling into the pattern of debate; argument and counter-argument, stating and refuting. Jun raises an eyebrow, one finger tapping absently against his glass, unwilling to fall into Sho's trap of apparent logic. His expression suggests that 'logic' would be an inappropriate term to apply to Sho at this moment in time.
“It does matter,” Sho repeats, “because I can’t tell him what it is without a definition.”
“You could,” Jun replies neatly. “You’d just sound like a fool.”
“I’d like to avoid that,” Sho rebukes with a grimace, picturing Nino’s cackle every time he inadvertently puts his foot in his mouth.
“It’s Nino,” Jun points out with a small quirk of his lips. “He’ll know what you mean, even if you say it weird.”
“I’d kind of like to know what I mean before I expect him to understand it,” Sho admits with a sigh, his fingertips squeaking on the condensation beading up on his glass. “Pinning it down is harder than I’d thought it would be.”
“It seems fairly simple to me,” Jun says, but doesn’t elaborate and Sho can tell from his tone that it’s one of those things Jun expects him to work out on his own. Jun is happy to listen and support, but he believes in letting others solve their own problems as much as possible.
Sho goes home and has unsettling dreams in black and white, full of cats that accuse him of being wasteful and unappreciative, and unexplained house fires. He wakes and blames it on the alcohol rather than his slightly disorganized mental state, and makes no effort to interpret the imagery involved.
Nino calls him that afternoon, their schedules not overlapping today, asking if he’s heard the latest Mr. Children single teaser and did he think they’d gotten a new mixing editor since the last release. Sho hadn’t heard, and Nino promises to email it to him later. They hang up, and Sho finds that the entire conversation he had been trying to find something to say, and never quite getting there.
The next day they do meet, before a recording for Shukudai-kun, and Nino is hovering around Ohno as the two exchange jokes and faces and gestures that only they understand. The bond between them is impossibly strong and Sho is never quite sure what kind of relationship they have. He gathered up the courage to ask Ohno once, and the older man’s answer was vague at best.
“What do you mean?” Ohno had questioned.
“You know,” Sho insisted, frowning. “What is he to you?”
“He’s Nino,” Ohno replied with a confused expression. “He’s just Nino. He’s the same to me as he is to you guys.”
“That’s not really what it looks like,” Sho says, watching Ohno for a reaction. But Ohno’s face didn’t change; he merely shrugged, content with his explanation and feeling no need to continue. Sho realizes that it was possible Ohno had encountered the same issue he had; any sort of relationship with Nino was one that constantly blurred the lines between platonic friendship and something else entirely. Where Sho couldn't accept a friendship without classification, Ohno was able to simply accept it (and embrace it) as it was.
He is irritated by this for some reason. It seems like Ohno is somehow more deserving of Nino's affection because he is able to adapt to it; Sho, who cannot seem to believe in something he doesn't have words for, is not a proper fit for Nino. And yet, Nino seems to choose Sho's lap almost as often as he chooses Ohno's for a full-on sprawl, and even comments that Sho's lap is far less bony.
It's possible that the statement is a thinly-veiled comment about Ohno's current low weight, but Sho chooses to interpret it as a compliment directed at him.
Aiba is similarly unhelpful, and Sho honestly hadn't intended to mention it to him. It isn't that he doesn't trust Aiba, only that Aiba loves them all so sincerely, he sees any sort of romantic interest as a matter of life and death. To him, the end goal is always a perfect, happy, loving relationship; to him, feelings are always returned. Sho admits to himself that Aiba thinks this way because everyone honestly does love him back; it's impossible not to love someone who is so dedicated and sincere in everything he does.
"It's Nino," Aiba says. Sho almost laughs, because Aiba is the third person to say that as if it's an answer to his question. Sho wants to say (with no lack of frustration) that he knows that. He knows it's Nino at the heart of the issue, and that he has always known that. The problem isn't who he seems to have feelings for; the problem is that he can't figure out what those feelings are.
Instead, Sho nods and rubs his temple with on hand.
"Nino isn't really like other people," Aiba points out, and Sho resists the urge to say he knew that already too. "With him, you can't just go saying 'I love you'; you've got to mean everything you say. He knows if you don't."
"I can't be honest about something I can't say," Sho says.
"So you'll just have to say what you know for sure, I guess," Aiba says, leaning forward across the table. "You can't say 'I love you', but you can say 'I really care about you.'"
"He knows I do," Sho says, because it's true. Sho has never tried to hide how dear Nino is to him.
"But it's different when you say it," Aiba says seriously. Sho is momentarily lost in Aiba's face; he wonders when, exactly, Aiba made the transition from a sweet, moderately awkward teenager to a strong, patient man. As clearly as it is still Aiba in front of him, Sho is forced to acknowledge that in this arena, Aiba is by far the wiser.
Sho sits in his bedroom that night with a pen in his hand and a notebook in his lap. He practices writing the words he knows for these sorts of things, and tries to make them fit with what he feels. He thinks that maybe by listing all the ones he can think of, he'll stumble on one that works.
His phone buzzes on the nightstand, but he ignores it in favor of his task. A minute later, the phone chirps to alert him to a new voicemail, and he reluctantly picks it up to listen.
"Sho-chan," Nino's voice buzzes. Sho has to strain to make out what he's saying over the clamor of voices in the background. "I-you're probably busy, but I just thought I'd check. Nevermind. Talk to you later."
It almost sounds like something is wrong; but it's hard to tell over the white noise, so Sho plays the message again. When it finishes, he still can't shake the feeling that there is something strange about Nino's voice. Concerned, Sho sends a quick text message to Nino; a call would likely not be heard over the racket of wherever Nino was.
I'm not busy, he wrote. Is everything okay? I'm here if you need me.
After a moment's thought, Sho backspaces the last two sentences and puts Did you want to hang out? instead.
The second time his phone buzzes, Sho picks it up immediately. When Nino speaks, Sho realizes it's completely quiet around him now; there is nothing to cover up the strange softness in his voice.
"I thought you might be in bed already," Nino says.
"No, I slept in a bit this morning. I won't be tired for a while still," Sho explains.
"Ah," Nino says. There is silence after and for a moment, Sho thinks they were disconnected. Then Nino speaks again. "My family went to Fukuoka for the weekend. It's quiet here."
"Where were you earlier?" Sho asks. "It was really loud."
"A friend of a friend's birthday party. They were kind of a rowdy bunch; I left when one of the girls mentioned body shots," Nino says. Sho recognizes the tone in his voice now; it's the same one he used when he called from America. He sounds lonely and disconnected; wherever he is, he doesn't feel like he can relate to them. They aren't his friends, and he misses the people who are.
"You're by yourself at home?" Sho asks, and after Nino's confirmation, he continues. "I'll come over then. I have a CD you'll like, I'll bring it along."
Sho doesn't quite run to Nino's house, but he does make in suspiciously short order considering the late hour. Nino opens the door, his face breaking into an almost painfully relieved smile, as though he hadn't really thought Sho would come. It tugs at Sho's heart; he doesn't like to think that Nino would ever doubt him.
Nino leads him past the darkened living room. Sho doesn't have to ask why; he knows that Nino hates how empty the house feels with just him in it. Nino's bedroom is small, but two people are enough to make it feel full and lived-in. It's a bit messy, with various cords and musical equipment piled in the corners, but Nino doesn't have many possessions large enough to take up real space, and tidying it up would only bring this fact to an even more obvious level. His mattress sits on a box-spring that sits on the floor and it is the only surface really designed for sitting, so Sho sits with his legs hanging over the edge. Nino takes the CD Sho brought and puts it in the tape deck he'd scavenged from Jun after Jun upgraded. Once the music starts coming out of the speakers, Nino joins Sho on the bed. Sho is almost-but-not-quite uncomfortably aware of how uncharacteristically still Nino is beside him.
Nino leans sideways just enough for his bony shoulder to dig into Sho's chest, his head resting on Sho's shoulder. Sho lifts his arm to wrap around Nino's back and his hand settles on Nino's hip.
"What do you think?" Sho says, and even he isn't sure what he's referring to.
"I like it," Nino says, not clearing up the issue.
They drop into silence once more. Sho's fingers stroke against Nino's side; Nino shivers, but doesn't pull away, and that's enough to convince Sho to follow the urge to kiss the top of Nino's head softly.
"Sometimes," Nino says so quietly Sho almost doesn't hear, "I think I drive you crazy."
"You do," Sho agrees, laughing. "It's part of your charm though, so don't worry too much."
"I wouldn't mind," Nino says. He puts his hand on Sho's knee and leans back, turning to meet Sho's eyes. "I wouldn't mind, Sho."
Sho tries to convince himself that Nino doesn't mean what Sho thinks he does. He tries to pretend that the look in Nino's eye is something else, anything else. He tries to believe that he isn't about to risk everything just on the off chance that he will gain a new angle to a relationship that already works just fine.
But Nino isn't willing to wait for Sho to make a decision, so he pushes Sho flat on his back and straddles his hips. He plants his hands on either side of Sho's head and looks down at him, his eyes dark in a way that Sho has seen before; before, he didn't know what that look meant. Now, with Nino's weight pressing down on him and his mouth set in a serious line, Sho knows.
"I know you wouldn't," Sho says, and is surprised to realize he truly does know that. "But I don't know how to say it."
"It's easy," Nino says, and he leans down so slowly that Sho has more than enough time to prepare. "Say 'please.'"
Nino meets his lips and Sho's hands slide up Nino's sides in one smooth motion. Kissing Nino is beyond anything Sho has expected; somehow, he'd thought Nino's inherent impatience would carry over. But instead of rushing, a quick and hasty battle for control and excitement, Nino's tongue is almost lazy when it draws across Sho's lip, and Nino takes his time exploring every hidden pocket of Sho's mouth. Sho notices how Nino's eyes don't quite close, and he's almost disturbed by it until Nino gasps into his mouth; the expression that flits across his eyes is something Sho wouldn't want to miss for the world.
Sho's hands slip under the hem of Nino's shirt, dragging up his stomach. Nino lets out a short, cut-off sound that makes Sho want to hear it again, so he repeats the movement and is treated to a low moan. Nino's mouth moves to Sho's jaw and he drops to his elbows, Nino's body now fully resting across Sho's. Delighted with Nino's sudden closeness, Sho runs his fingers through Nino's hair, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly when Nino finds a particularly sensitive patch of skin on his neck and sucks. Sho lifts his leg, planting one foot against the mattress, and Nino makes a soft sound and presses his nose behind Sho's ear, breathing hard. He is rocking against Sho's thigh, grinding in the tiniest of movements; as though he isn't sure he's allowed to and doesn't want Sho to notice. This makes Sho think he isn't doing much to convince Nino of his enthusiastic support of this activity, so he catches Nino's chin with one hand and steers him back for another deep kiss. His other hand slides down to Nino's ass; with a sudden surge of boldness, Sho squeezes and presses Nino tightly against him.
Nino's hips surge forward of their own volition, and Nino's moans are swallowed by Sho's lips. Nino's small hands are scrabbling urgently on Sho's shoulders; Sho thinks now is perhaps a good time to decide what, exactly, they are doing. Nino seems to be thinking along the same lines, because he sits up suddenly, bracing himself on Sho's chest with both hands. His own chest is heaving, his lips are bruised a deep red, and the only word Sho can possibly use to describe his expression, one shoulder bare from where his t-shirt had been tugged aside, is wanton.
Sho is young, so of course he can't resist a picture like that; this is what he tells himself as he sits up too, one hand cupping the back of Nino's skull and the other returning to Nino's lower back. His fingers dip under the waistband of Nino's jeans, and Nino grinds against him with a low growl. Nino's hands have found their way under Sho's shirt, and Sho's vision whites out for a moment when Nino tugs lightly on his navel piercing. It's (somehow, he can't even begin to speculate how) a direct line to his cock and Nino smirks when Sho leans his head back to suck in air.
Nino's hands pull away, and before Sho can raise any sort of protest, Nino pulls off his t-shirt and throws it somewhere behind him. Sho swallows hard; Nino's panting and Sho can't tear his eyes away from the flush that has spread down Nino's bare chest. He's surprised at how strongly it affects him, and he has to pause for a moment just to absorb the vision. Nino shifts; Sho tears his eyes up to Nino's face and he's surprised by the sudden darting nervousness in Nino's gaze.
"Sorry," Nino says quietly. "I just thought-sorry."
He starts to climb off Sho and Sho realizes that Nino has misunderstood his hesitation. Without missing a beat, Sho catches Nino's elbow and pulls Nino back down into his lap. Sho kisses him, sliding his fingers through Nino's hair and coaxing at Nino's mouth with as much heat as he thinks he can give Nino before he really loses control of himself.
"You got ahead of me," Sho murmurs low against Nino's lips. He's surprised by the rough quality of his own voice; he hadn't thought he was quite this far gone yet. Nino smiles and tugs at Sho's shirt encouragingly.
"Then catch up," he says. Sho doesn't need further prompting; he pulls off his shirt and tosses it carelessly aside. Nino busies himself with Sho's belt and Sho is shocked at how quickly Nino's hand is down his pants, brushing against him. He moans, the sound rumbling through his chest, and he takes a moment to be glad that they are completely alone in the house.
Nino climbs off Sho's lap long enough for both of them to strip completely. Sho grins when Nino pushes him back so he's leaning against the pillows; his expression changes completely when Nino straddles his thighs again and takes them both in hand. It's hot, definitely, but not quite right; Nino's hand isn't big enough to give the proper sort of grip, and Sho can tell by his face that he's frustrated by this. Sho loops an arm around Nino's waist and sits up again to press kisses to Nino's jaw and neck. Nino sighs, his head falling back, and Sho knows he's successfully distracted Nino from his irritation. Nino's hands rest on Sho's shoulders as though they are the only thing keeping him from floating away.
"Sho," Nino says. His hands clench, and Sho decides he likes the husky quality of Nino's voice when he's this close. "Sho."
"Mmm?" Sho answers against Nino's throat, his teeth scraping Nino's pulse lightly. Nino groans; his nails dig into Sho's skin just enough to leave marks.
"There's stuff in the drawer," Nino says. The words are a struggle for him to get out. "Behind the old gameboy."
Sho reaches back to the side table, his hand searching through the drawer. His fingers found a small bottle and a foil packet; he fishes them out as deftly as he can when Nino is still grinding against him and making soft, breathy noises of need. Nino stands on his knees over Sho's lap as Sho pushes his slick fingers inside him one by one; each gentle stroke pulls a whine from Nino's throat. Sho knows when he's ready, both by touch, and by the way Nino pushes back, down on his hand, like Sho's fingers aren't enough anymore.
The condom goes on quickly thanks to Nino's hand steadying his shaking one. Sho is expecting Nino to take him in slowly, but Nino does nothing of the sort; he lines himself up and presses down in one smooth motion. Sho's moan is long and desperate, telling of exactly how amazing it feels. Nino pauses when he's all the way down; his hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and Sho brushes it away for him. Nino presses his cheek into Sho's hand and moves.
They pick up a rhythm immediately; Sho's grip on Nino's hips steady him as he rides Sho's cock. Nino braces himself further on Sho's shoulders, and neither of them can manage a proper word anymore. All that escapes their lips are breathy pants which are almost each other's names, but not quite. It doesn't really matter, Sho thinks. I know who he is, and he knows who he's riding.
Sho wraps one hand around Nino's cock and pulls, matching the rhythm set by their hips. Nino's mouth opens wide as he tries to draw air; it's such a beautiful image that Sho feels like it's burned on the inside of his eyelids. In just a few minutes of the combined touch, Nino is shuddering, his entire body clenching around Sho. Nino keens; it's that sound that pushes Sho over too. They continue the motions for a few strokes more, riding out the sensations, before Nino's arms slide fully around Sho's neck and he flops his full weight on Sho's chest weakly. Sho gingerly pulls himself out of Nino's body and tosses the condom into the wastebasket before rolling Nino onto the bed beside him.
Nino immediately curls against Sho's side, nuzzling against Sho's jaw and humming small pleased sounds. Sho laughs softly, his fingers combing through Nino's hair as Nino presses himself even closer.
With Nino curled against him like this, his skin still warm and slightly tacky with sweat, Sho wonders how he ever could have worried about this. Nino feels nice to have so near, and as Sho looks at him, his heart assures him that if anything, he's gained something tremendous without really needing words at all. Nino doesn't care about what they call it, and if it doesn't matter to Nino, Sho doesn't need to agonize over it either.
"Hey," Sho says quietly, stroking his hand up and down Nino's back. "We can do that again, right?"
"Sure," Nino says. "But not right now. Right now is naptime."
"You need to work on your stamina," Sho teases, and Nino snorts.
"I don't see you jumping up for another round just yet either," he points out with a lazy grin.
"Nah," Sho says, returning Nino's smile. "I'm good."
[Author] honooko
[Rating] R
[Notes] Sakumiya! I found a bit on my laptop and then it spiraled out of control. ._.
Sho doesn’t know what to call what he feels for Nino other than to say he knows what it isn’t. It isn’t just friendship, or just affection, or just brotherly. At times it is all of these things, but it’s also more, and he struggles with that distinction.
He asks Jun over drinks, because Jun is sensible and a Good Guy no matter what the DoS image may suggest, and because Jun understands people the same sort of way Nino does; instinctually.
“Attachment?” Jun suggests with an elegant shrug. He is relatively unconcerned with terminology and always has been. “Does it matter? It’s Nino, you like him, and that’s really all that counts.”
“It does matter,” Sho argues, his face intense and his mind settling into the pattern of debate; argument and counter-argument, stating and refuting. Jun raises an eyebrow, one finger tapping absently against his glass, unwilling to fall into Sho's trap of apparent logic. His expression suggests that 'logic' would be an inappropriate term to apply to Sho at this moment in time.
“It does matter,” Sho repeats, “because I can’t tell him what it is without a definition.”
“You could,” Jun replies neatly. “You’d just sound like a fool.”
“I’d like to avoid that,” Sho rebukes with a grimace, picturing Nino’s cackle every time he inadvertently puts his foot in his mouth.
“It’s Nino,” Jun points out with a small quirk of his lips. “He’ll know what you mean, even if you say it weird.”
“I’d kind of like to know what I mean before I expect him to understand it,” Sho admits with a sigh, his fingertips squeaking on the condensation beading up on his glass. “Pinning it down is harder than I’d thought it would be.”
“It seems fairly simple to me,” Jun says, but doesn’t elaborate and Sho can tell from his tone that it’s one of those things Jun expects him to work out on his own. Jun is happy to listen and support, but he believes in letting others solve their own problems as much as possible.
Sho goes home and has unsettling dreams in black and white, full of cats that accuse him of being wasteful and unappreciative, and unexplained house fires. He wakes and blames it on the alcohol rather than his slightly disorganized mental state, and makes no effort to interpret the imagery involved.
Nino calls him that afternoon, their schedules not overlapping today, asking if he’s heard the latest Mr. Children single teaser and did he think they’d gotten a new mixing editor since the last release. Sho hadn’t heard, and Nino promises to email it to him later. They hang up, and Sho finds that the entire conversation he had been trying to find something to say, and never quite getting there.
The next day they do meet, before a recording for Shukudai-kun, and Nino is hovering around Ohno as the two exchange jokes and faces and gestures that only they understand. The bond between them is impossibly strong and Sho is never quite sure what kind of relationship they have. He gathered up the courage to ask Ohno once, and the older man’s answer was vague at best.
“What do you mean?” Ohno had questioned.
“You know,” Sho insisted, frowning. “What is he to you?”
“He’s Nino,” Ohno replied with a confused expression. “He’s just Nino. He’s the same to me as he is to you guys.”
“That’s not really what it looks like,” Sho says, watching Ohno for a reaction. But Ohno’s face didn’t change; he merely shrugged, content with his explanation and feeling no need to continue. Sho realizes that it was possible Ohno had encountered the same issue he had; any sort of relationship with Nino was one that constantly blurred the lines between platonic friendship and something else entirely. Where Sho couldn't accept a friendship without classification, Ohno was able to simply accept it (and embrace it) as it was.
He is irritated by this for some reason. It seems like Ohno is somehow more deserving of Nino's affection because he is able to adapt to it; Sho, who cannot seem to believe in something he doesn't have words for, is not a proper fit for Nino. And yet, Nino seems to choose Sho's lap almost as often as he chooses Ohno's for a full-on sprawl, and even comments that Sho's lap is far less bony.
It's possible that the statement is a thinly-veiled comment about Ohno's current low weight, but Sho chooses to interpret it as a compliment directed at him.
Aiba is similarly unhelpful, and Sho honestly hadn't intended to mention it to him. It isn't that he doesn't trust Aiba, only that Aiba loves them all so sincerely, he sees any sort of romantic interest as a matter of life and death. To him, the end goal is always a perfect, happy, loving relationship; to him, feelings are always returned. Sho admits to himself that Aiba thinks this way because everyone honestly does love him back; it's impossible not to love someone who is so dedicated and sincere in everything he does.
"It's Nino," Aiba says. Sho almost laughs, because Aiba is the third person to say that as if it's an answer to his question. Sho wants to say (with no lack of frustration) that he knows that. He knows it's Nino at the heart of the issue, and that he has always known that. The problem isn't who he seems to have feelings for; the problem is that he can't figure out what those feelings are.
Instead, Sho nods and rubs his temple with on hand.
"Nino isn't really like other people," Aiba points out, and Sho resists the urge to say he knew that already too. "With him, you can't just go saying 'I love you'; you've got to mean everything you say. He knows if you don't."
"I can't be honest about something I can't say," Sho says.
"So you'll just have to say what you know for sure, I guess," Aiba says, leaning forward across the table. "You can't say 'I love you', but you can say 'I really care about you.'"
"He knows I do," Sho says, because it's true. Sho has never tried to hide how dear Nino is to him.
"But it's different when you say it," Aiba says seriously. Sho is momentarily lost in Aiba's face; he wonders when, exactly, Aiba made the transition from a sweet, moderately awkward teenager to a strong, patient man. As clearly as it is still Aiba in front of him, Sho is forced to acknowledge that in this arena, Aiba is by far the wiser.
Sho sits in his bedroom that night with a pen in his hand and a notebook in his lap. He practices writing the words he knows for these sorts of things, and tries to make them fit with what he feels. He thinks that maybe by listing all the ones he can think of, he'll stumble on one that works.
His phone buzzes on the nightstand, but he ignores it in favor of his task. A minute later, the phone chirps to alert him to a new voicemail, and he reluctantly picks it up to listen.
"Sho-chan," Nino's voice buzzes. Sho has to strain to make out what he's saying over the clamor of voices in the background. "I-you're probably busy, but I just thought I'd check. Nevermind. Talk to you later."
It almost sounds like something is wrong; but it's hard to tell over the white noise, so Sho plays the message again. When it finishes, he still can't shake the feeling that there is something strange about Nino's voice. Concerned, Sho sends a quick text message to Nino; a call would likely not be heard over the racket of wherever Nino was.
I'm not busy, he wrote. Is everything okay? I'm here if you need me.
After a moment's thought, Sho backspaces the last two sentences and puts Did you want to hang out? instead.
The second time his phone buzzes, Sho picks it up immediately. When Nino speaks, Sho realizes it's completely quiet around him now; there is nothing to cover up the strange softness in his voice.
"I thought you might be in bed already," Nino says.
"No, I slept in a bit this morning. I won't be tired for a while still," Sho explains.
"Ah," Nino says. There is silence after and for a moment, Sho thinks they were disconnected. Then Nino speaks again. "My family went to Fukuoka for the weekend. It's quiet here."
"Where were you earlier?" Sho asks. "It was really loud."
"A friend of a friend's birthday party. They were kind of a rowdy bunch; I left when one of the girls mentioned body shots," Nino says. Sho recognizes the tone in his voice now; it's the same one he used when he called from America. He sounds lonely and disconnected; wherever he is, he doesn't feel like he can relate to them. They aren't his friends, and he misses the people who are.
"You're by yourself at home?" Sho asks, and after Nino's confirmation, he continues. "I'll come over then. I have a CD you'll like, I'll bring it along."
Sho doesn't quite run to Nino's house, but he does make in suspiciously short order considering the late hour. Nino opens the door, his face breaking into an almost painfully relieved smile, as though he hadn't really thought Sho would come. It tugs at Sho's heart; he doesn't like to think that Nino would ever doubt him.
Nino leads him past the darkened living room. Sho doesn't have to ask why; he knows that Nino hates how empty the house feels with just him in it. Nino's bedroom is small, but two people are enough to make it feel full and lived-in. It's a bit messy, with various cords and musical equipment piled in the corners, but Nino doesn't have many possessions large enough to take up real space, and tidying it up would only bring this fact to an even more obvious level. His mattress sits on a box-spring that sits on the floor and it is the only surface really designed for sitting, so Sho sits with his legs hanging over the edge. Nino takes the CD Sho brought and puts it in the tape deck he'd scavenged from Jun after Jun upgraded. Once the music starts coming out of the speakers, Nino joins Sho on the bed. Sho is almost-but-not-quite uncomfortably aware of how uncharacteristically still Nino is beside him.
Nino leans sideways just enough for his bony shoulder to dig into Sho's chest, his head resting on Sho's shoulder. Sho lifts his arm to wrap around Nino's back and his hand settles on Nino's hip.
"What do you think?" Sho says, and even he isn't sure what he's referring to.
"I like it," Nino says, not clearing up the issue.
They drop into silence once more. Sho's fingers stroke against Nino's side; Nino shivers, but doesn't pull away, and that's enough to convince Sho to follow the urge to kiss the top of Nino's head softly.
"Sometimes," Nino says so quietly Sho almost doesn't hear, "I think I drive you crazy."
"You do," Sho agrees, laughing. "It's part of your charm though, so don't worry too much."
"I wouldn't mind," Nino says. He puts his hand on Sho's knee and leans back, turning to meet Sho's eyes. "I wouldn't mind, Sho."
Sho tries to convince himself that Nino doesn't mean what Sho thinks he does. He tries to pretend that the look in Nino's eye is something else, anything else. He tries to believe that he isn't about to risk everything just on the off chance that he will gain a new angle to a relationship that already works just fine.
But Nino isn't willing to wait for Sho to make a decision, so he pushes Sho flat on his back and straddles his hips. He plants his hands on either side of Sho's head and looks down at him, his eyes dark in a way that Sho has seen before; before, he didn't know what that look meant. Now, with Nino's weight pressing down on him and his mouth set in a serious line, Sho knows.
"I know you wouldn't," Sho says, and is surprised to realize he truly does know that. "But I don't know how to say it."
"It's easy," Nino says, and he leans down so slowly that Sho has more than enough time to prepare. "Say 'please.'"
Nino meets his lips and Sho's hands slide up Nino's sides in one smooth motion. Kissing Nino is beyond anything Sho has expected; somehow, he'd thought Nino's inherent impatience would carry over. But instead of rushing, a quick and hasty battle for control and excitement, Nino's tongue is almost lazy when it draws across Sho's lip, and Nino takes his time exploring every hidden pocket of Sho's mouth. Sho notices how Nino's eyes don't quite close, and he's almost disturbed by it until Nino gasps into his mouth; the expression that flits across his eyes is something Sho wouldn't want to miss for the world.
Sho's hands slip under the hem of Nino's shirt, dragging up his stomach. Nino lets out a short, cut-off sound that makes Sho want to hear it again, so he repeats the movement and is treated to a low moan. Nino's mouth moves to Sho's jaw and he drops to his elbows, Nino's body now fully resting across Sho's. Delighted with Nino's sudden closeness, Sho runs his fingers through Nino's hair, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly when Nino finds a particularly sensitive patch of skin on his neck and sucks. Sho lifts his leg, planting one foot against the mattress, and Nino makes a soft sound and presses his nose behind Sho's ear, breathing hard. He is rocking against Sho's thigh, grinding in the tiniest of movements; as though he isn't sure he's allowed to and doesn't want Sho to notice. This makes Sho think he isn't doing much to convince Nino of his enthusiastic support of this activity, so he catches Nino's chin with one hand and steers him back for another deep kiss. His other hand slides down to Nino's ass; with a sudden surge of boldness, Sho squeezes and presses Nino tightly against him.
Nino's hips surge forward of their own volition, and Nino's moans are swallowed by Sho's lips. Nino's small hands are scrabbling urgently on Sho's shoulders; Sho thinks now is perhaps a good time to decide what, exactly, they are doing. Nino seems to be thinking along the same lines, because he sits up suddenly, bracing himself on Sho's chest with both hands. His own chest is heaving, his lips are bruised a deep red, and the only word Sho can possibly use to describe his expression, one shoulder bare from where his t-shirt had been tugged aside, is wanton.
Sho is young, so of course he can't resist a picture like that; this is what he tells himself as he sits up too, one hand cupping the back of Nino's skull and the other returning to Nino's lower back. His fingers dip under the waistband of Nino's jeans, and Nino grinds against him with a low growl. Nino's hands have found their way under Sho's shirt, and Sho's vision whites out for a moment when Nino tugs lightly on his navel piercing. It's (somehow, he can't even begin to speculate how) a direct line to his cock and Nino smirks when Sho leans his head back to suck in air.
Nino's hands pull away, and before Sho can raise any sort of protest, Nino pulls off his t-shirt and throws it somewhere behind him. Sho swallows hard; Nino's panting and Sho can't tear his eyes away from the flush that has spread down Nino's bare chest. He's surprised at how strongly it affects him, and he has to pause for a moment just to absorb the vision. Nino shifts; Sho tears his eyes up to Nino's face and he's surprised by the sudden darting nervousness in Nino's gaze.
"Sorry," Nino says quietly. "I just thought-sorry."
He starts to climb off Sho and Sho realizes that Nino has misunderstood his hesitation. Without missing a beat, Sho catches Nino's elbow and pulls Nino back down into his lap. Sho kisses him, sliding his fingers through Nino's hair and coaxing at Nino's mouth with as much heat as he thinks he can give Nino before he really loses control of himself.
"You got ahead of me," Sho murmurs low against Nino's lips. He's surprised by the rough quality of his own voice; he hadn't thought he was quite this far gone yet. Nino smiles and tugs at Sho's shirt encouragingly.
"Then catch up," he says. Sho doesn't need further prompting; he pulls off his shirt and tosses it carelessly aside. Nino busies himself with Sho's belt and Sho is shocked at how quickly Nino's hand is down his pants, brushing against him. He moans, the sound rumbling through his chest, and he takes a moment to be glad that they are completely alone in the house.
Nino climbs off Sho's lap long enough for both of them to strip completely. Sho grins when Nino pushes him back so he's leaning against the pillows; his expression changes completely when Nino straddles his thighs again and takes them both in hand. It's hot, definitely, but not quite right; Nino's hand isn't big enough to give the proper sort of grip, and Sho can tell by his face that he's frustrated by this. Sho loops an arm around Nino's waist and sits up again to press kisses to Nino's jaw and neck. Nino sighs, his head falling back, and Sho knows he's successfully distracted Nino from his irritation. Nino's hands rest on Sho's shoulders as though they are the only thing keeping him from floating away.
"Sho," Nino says. His hands clench, and Sho decides he likes the husky quality of Nino's voice when he's this close. "Sho."
"Mmm?" Sho answers against Nino's throat, his teeth scraping Nino's pulse lightly. Nino groans; his nails dig into Sho's skin just enough to leave marks.
"There's stuff in the drawer," Nino says. The words are a struggle for him to get out. "Behind the old gameboy."
Sho reaches back to the side table, his hand searching through the drawer. His fingers found a small bottle and a foil packet; he fishes them out as deftly as he can when Nino is still grinding against him and making soft, breathy noises of need. Nino stands on his knees over Sho's lap as Sho pushes his slick fingers inside him one by one; each gentle stroke pulls a whine from Nino's throat. Sho knows when he's ready, both by touch, and by the way Nino pushes back, down on his hand, like Sho's fingers aren't enough anymore.
The condom goes on quickly thanks to Nino's hand steadying his shaking one. Sho is expecting Nino to take him in slowly, but Nino does nothing of the sort; he lines himself up and presses down in one smooth motion. Sho's moan is long and desperate, telling of exactly how amazing it feels. Nino pauses when he's all the way down; his hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and Sho brushes it away for him. Nino presses his cheek into Sho's hand and moves.
They pick up a rhythm immediately; Sho's grip on Nino's hips steady him as he rides Sho's cock. Nino braces himself further on Sho's shoulders, and neither of them can manage a proper word anymore. All that escapes their lips are breathy pants which are almost each other's names, but not quite. It doesn't really matter, Sho thinks. I know who he is, and he knows who he's riding.
Sho wraps one hand around Nino's cock and pulls, matching the rhythm set by their hips. Nino's mouth opens wide as he tries to draw air; it's such a beautiful image that Sho feels like it's burned on the inside of his eyelids. In just a few minutes of the combined touch, Nino is shuddering, his entire body clenching around Sho. Nino keens; it's that sound that pushes Sho over too. They continue the motions for a few strokes more, riding out the sensations, before Nino's arms slide fully around Sho's neck and he flops his full weight on Sho's chest weakly. Sho gingerly pulls himself out of Nino's body and tosses the condom into the wastebasket before rolling Nino onto the bed beside him.
Nino immediately curls against Sho's side, nuzzling against Sho's jaw and humming small pleased sounds. Sho laughs softly, his fingers combing through Nino's hair as Nino presses himself even closer.
With Nino curled against him like this, his skin still warm and slightly tacky with sweat, Sho wonders how he ever could have worried about this. Nino feels nice to have so near, and as Sho looks at him, his heart assures him that if anything, he's gained something tremendous without really needing words at all. Nino doesn't care about what they call it, and if it doesn't matter to Nino, Sho doesn't need to agonize over it either.
"Hey," Sho says quietly, stroking his hand up and down Nino's back. "We can do that again, right?"
"Sure," Nino says. "But not right now. Right now is naptime."
"You need to work on your stamina," Sho teases, and Nino snorts.
"I don't see you jumping up for another round just yet either," he points out with a lazy grin.
"Nah," Sho says, returning Nino's smile. "I'm good."