Pocketful of Memories
Title: Pocketful of Memories
Group/Pairing: Arashi/Yama Pair
Prompt: no. 005: Trip
Word Count: 3921
Rating: NC-17 (for one scene)
Summary: Ohno takes a short vacation at a couple's onsen even though he is not coupled with anyone
Disclaimer: Although I have written this story, I am sad to say that I do not own the characters represented in it ;_;
Note: Okay! Finally I finished it :] I'm not as happy with the... middle as I wanted to be, but I like this kind of pacing. I admit, I left some loopholes, but that's the way I like it. I like this fic more than others, but it isn't my favorite. Writing in this tense is hard for me XD Hope I did okay otherwise :D
PS stories may not be coming up for a little bit because I'm writing one for je_holiday and it's a secret until reveals ;]
------
He eases his body into the steaming bath, a groan of pleasure emanating from his lips to mingle with the singers of the night. The breeze whistles, chilling his exposed skin. He slips down further into the water so only his head above his lips is subject to the cold. It’s summer but the night is laced with crisp chilliness, a strikingly welcome contrast to the waters that nearly burn his aching bones. But he is content with himself, blowing bubbles idly just below the surface. The stars glitter and wink their approval as the night plays an orchestra one can only appreciate if they really listen.
He is glad he came here, if only for a week, and happier still that the trip was free. Despite his love for the studio, breaks were a dire necessity every once and a while. His bones and muscles could only last so long unhindered.
Ohno sighs and braces his body against the low walls containing him and the water. Closing his eyes, he allows himself to doze listlessly as he listens to the composer direct the show. He’s proud that he obtained a front row seat for nowadays the concerts are seldom played, especially for him no matter how late he stays out.
A veil of sleep shades his bagged eyes before long and he wonders who will be there to wake him? Yet he is relieved to be alone with the wind playing with the vapor from the dancing water. It is a welcome and uncommon chance. He is very lucky, he smiles.
Just as his consciousness sinks as deep as the pulsing ocean of dreams, a tap on his shoulder pulls him up and out, eyes blinking away the residue of darkness. Confused -he’s supposed to be alone, right?- he looks up and down and around to finally lay his eyes upon a squatting figure to his right.
“So you’re the one who gave me the ticket, huh?” Says a chocolaty voice from deep cherry lips that Ohno remembers. He stands quickly, water dripping from his naked body, indifferent to the situation. An incredible sense of vertigo befalls him and he sways, vision swirling out of his grasp. Warm hands catch his suddenly falling frame causing a pulsing shiver to disperse hotly throughout him.
“I-I think I was in too long,” he mutters, having trouble moving his lips correctly. Stepping out of the man’s grasp he notices he can’t hear the song anymore and frowns.
“Before you go, I’m Sho,” the man says, worry mingled in his introduction.
“Ohno,” he replies and hurries off.
---
He is elated when he wins the grand prize- couple’s tickets to a couple’s private room at an onsen- but that’s before he realizes that he is not coupled with anyone. Ohno wants to go but knows it would be a waste to throw out the accompanying ticket; maybe someone else could use it? So he asks around, leaving the rally and walking through the sunny town. Of course, people turn him down with looks of either confusion or disgust; it’s the city after all. He knows that there will be someone to accept his generous prize though, so he keeps searching.
Then he spots a man in a suit sitting with his back against a looming tree and just has to approach him. The tree shades the man and Ohno as he enters its vicinity, thrusting the ticket in the young man’s face. Confusion blossoms on the strong features, but a hand is raised to receive the offered (maybe even forced) ticket. Words are just beginning to form on the cherry lips before Ohno flees the scene, pleased with himself.
---
Ohno wiggles into the futon that he presumes is his -there are now two side-by-side- and begins to think. Now he is not alone. He wonders why he is so empty headed all the time. How could he not have noticed that the tickets were a set time only? Even when he’d called the dance studio, he hadn’t noticed anything. It’s not fair, he thinks, that he has to spend the week of his vacation with a young man he doesn’t know at all. It’s not fair that he can’t ask or tell him to leave- the whole thing is his fault anyway.
But, he thinks, but the man is very nice to look at. At least that’s a plus. Ohno smirks a little and then jolts when he hears footsteps, the lights shivering back on. Hurriedly he closes his eyes and turns to the side, pretending to be asleep.
The footsteps continue to dully pound against the wooden floor. Ohno doesn’t know how long it is before the lights turn out with a flash because he is on his way to the depth of the oceans again. But just before he reaches the bottom of blissful oblivion he hears the words, “Please treat me favorably,” from that creamy chocolate voice.
---
The next day Ohno does his best to avoid Sho. For some reason, he has the strongest feeling that he shouldn’t get involved with the man. He really doesn’t know why because Sho seems to be an okay guy. And if Ohno’s gut wasn’t telling him not to, he would be trying harder to get along with the man. Again, he thinks it’s not fair that he has to be cautious on his vacation, but again he remembers that everything, even the decision, is his own fault.
Sitting at one of the table by the ice cream bar in the little guest area of the onsen, Ohno taps his fingers on the table with a frown on his face. Really, what is he doing? The day is beautiful, the onsen is gorgeous and relaxing, but he can’t sit still. He can’t allow himself to relax even though that’s exactly what he came here to do! With a heaving grown Ohno drops his head to the table, gritting his teeth. Then he quickly gets up and retires to his- their room.
He stops shortly as he enters through the sliding door. Sho is sitting there against the far wall in a flowing dark blue yukata reading a newspaper rather seriously. As Ohno enters he looks up, folds it, and smiles up at the shorter man.
“Welcome back. Did you enjoy the arcade?” Hesitantly, Ohno nods in reply, but doesn’t move. He doesn’t know where to go in the small space.
Sho seems to notice Ohno’s awkwardness and gently spots the space next to him, offering him a calming and inviting smile. “Come sit?”
Ohno doesn’t know what to do. So he stands in his spot for a few seconds later, just mulling over the situation. He’s attracted to this man and probably wrongly so. That’s why something inside is warning him against it with all its strength. He knows he shouldn’t and he knows he should stop himself before he is too far gone (although it’s just a week, what could happen?) but he walks over and sits beside Sho and they start talking. Ohno easily falls into the man’s rhythm, smiling and laughing quietly at the stupid puns he makes.
---
“Hey.” Ohno grumbles and turns over in the futon. It’s actually really comfortable. He’s always liked sleeping on the floor. “Ohno-san, hey.” Ohno blinks and frowns, pulling his blankets over his ears. He doesn’t want to get up. Can’t that person who’s calling him let him be? Quickly, the sweet melody of sleep tucks him in, only to be dispersed all too soon. “Ohno-san!”
Ohno’s eyes flash and he flips onto his back, scowling up at Sho just as he sticks his finger into Ohno’s ear. Ohno wrinkles his nose and swats Sho’s long-fingered hand away, muttering something under his breath. “What?” He grumbles, rather unhappily.
Sho sits back on his heels and grins as though he’s accomplished a great feat. Ohno stares back curiously. “You draw, isn’t that right?”
Taken aback, Ohno nods and then shakes his head. “I had said I used to draw.” He points out, recalling their conversation from the night before. “Now the dance studio takes up all my time.”
Sho nods and Ohno spots a slight expression of unhappiness settling across his smooth features. “How… How come?” He dares to venture. After how easily they talked last night, even without drinks, Ohno can’t bring himself to deter the nice man. He’s shy, kind of. Smart, really. But mostly a dork. Frankly, he finds Sho’s clumsiness cute.
Sho brightens and leans forward as though he has something great to tell Ohno. “Can you draw me?” The question freezes Ohno, but only after his chin has fallen to his chest. Draw? Sho wanted him to draw? And to do a portrait! How many years had it been? Ohno can’t remember. It has been too long. He doesn’t know if he can. He is afraid he was no good anymore. But his hands itch.
Closing his eyes, Ohno takes a deep breath and empties his head of any rational thoughts. He focuses on the itching of his hands. They are begging, almost pleading him to pick up a pencil, a paintbrush, a pen, anything again. He remembers the lines he used to draw; the way his utensil flowed freely across the canvas, an extension of his steady hands. They never shook when he drew.
Slowly, Ohno raises his eyelids to glance up at Sho from under them. “I can dance for you?” He suggests feebly, clenching his fists yet allowing a sarcastic smile to flit over his lips. Sho chuckles. “I don’t have a pencil or an art pad or anything,” he admits. “So it would be kind of difficult to get something done.”
Sho just nods and stands, smiling down at Ohno and then turning to his bags. “I’ll go buy something then.”
---
Ohno is drawing Sho. He can’t believe what a relief it is to sit and draw. “You don’t have to sit still,” Ohno mumbles quietly, his eyes flying from Sho’s stoic face to the pad with a bunch of smooth lines on it. Nothing much has started yet, but things like that take time. “I’m not drawing you that way.”
“Oh, but I thought…” Sho shifts, but still doesn’t change positions.
“You thought wrong,” Ohno says bluntly. Sho looks at the ground, embarrassed. Sighing, Ohno places his new pad -he’ll be drawing more from now on, he knows it- on the floor beside him and looks pointedly at Sho. “I’m drawing you,” he says carefully, “as I would draw anything else. I don’t want it to look… like anything else someone would draw. So I’m doing it from the way I see you.” He pauses, noticing that Sho is looking at him with a tiny, pleased smile on his lips and color floods to his cheeks. Fumbling, he grabs the art pad again and continues to sketch, hurriedly and rushed, yet effectively. “If that’s okay.” He’s embarrassed and Sho knows it because the model is laughing quietly to himself and standing.
“I understand, Ohno-san.” Sho stands above Ohno again, but Ohno refuses to look up this time, attempting to hide his prettily blushing face. He leans down so his lips are brushing against Ohno’s ear. “Thank you.”
---
Lines swirl and curve, sharpening at the appropriate points to form shapes that then morph into smiling eyes, soft eyelashes. A bridge of a nose erupts strongly off the page, melting down into those slightly smiling, cherry lips that Ohno is now so fond of. Sketches of youth line the round cheeks and feathers of hair swoop across the wide forehead. Ears poke deliberately from the feathers, listening intently. A long, strong neck unfolds from the chin, rolling into broad shoulders and a visible collar bone.
Ohno refuses to let Sho see the work until it’s done. He will not paint it. He will not edit it. He will give it to the man as is. But he will not let the man see the work in progress. It would give too much away, yet not enough. There’s so much flowing through Ohno’s poor brain as he draws out the handsome man still sleeping beside him. He’s handsome, he’s beautiful, he’s kind and smart. Ohno’s getting carried away and he’s scared of what’s going to happen next. But as he draws the calm figure, that sweet man with the deep, rich voice and dark red, luscious lips, he feels himself fall a little further.
---
Again he feels himself nodding off to a pleasant sleep in the private bath. He’s only half listening to Sho because it’s hard for him to pay attention to the man in a strictly friendly way. Actually, it’s near impossible. Especially since the man is naked and sitting next to him in a bath. The best alternative is sleep, but obviously Sho isn’t seeing things Ohno’s way because he places a warm hand on his arm and shakes him out of the half-asleep stupor.
“You’re not listening,” he pouts, bottom lip protruding dangerously. Ohno has to bite his own lip and look away, mumbling something like ‘sorry’. Sho’s hand lingers on Ohno’s arm for a few seconds before he slides over. It is quiet for a while. Ohno can clearly hear the night song ringing in his ears and a soft smile glides over his lips. His eyes flutter shut and he leans back against the edge of the hot bath. He’s content again. Even if he gets pruney, he doesn’t want to get up and leave. And even if Sho starts talking again, he won’t want to leave because that voice is just as attractive as the clear night above and around him.
“Hey, Ohno-san?” Ohno lazily opens his eyes, searching for Sho. The young man moves closer to Sho and lifts his hand out of the water. Ohno tracks its movements carefully, his eyes half-lidded. Heat that isn’t from the bath seeps into his bones, running through his enflamed veins; he knows what Sho is doing.
A tingle of electricity bright as the sun shoots down his arms as Sho’s hand brushes against is, sparks nearly visible as it slips further down to grab Ohno’s limp hand? “Is it okay?” Ohno nods; it’s more than okay.
---
The only thing Ohno knows is that the picture’s done and that’s why he’s drinking with Sho in their room. No, it’s more than that. He’s drinking with Sho because he’s frightened. Ever since the day before, Sho’s been looking at him. Sometimes heatedly, sometimes sadly, and sometimes as though he’s frightened -frightened of himself. Ohno doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s too scared to ask, but that’s okay because now he’s drinking and he’s drinking with Sho. His mind is already half gone, and it’s definitely not into sleep this time. Along with the incredibly strong alcohol, Sho’s warmth is prying its way through the seam of Ohno’s yukata. His hand is travelling up his leg, tickling the bare skin as the material is brushed dejectedly out of the way.
A sliver of Ohno’s rationality, all that remains, tells him that he should be cautious. He should be, really. The warning flashes ever strongly in front of his dangerously lidded eyes. But he doesn’t listen to it. He doesn’t even pay any mind to it because now Sho is pushing him onto the wooden floor. His strong hands are traveling up Ohno’s body, making him shiver but not from cold. He is far from cold. Strings of heat are galloping about in his body, most of it traveling to form a knot in the lower half of his stomach.
Sho crawls above Ohno, his hot breath brushing against Ohno’s parted and wet lips. He licks them nervously and notices Sho’s breath hitch before the cherry lips are pressing gently against his own. Ohno doesn’t know what to do. Well, he does, but his body isn’t working. He wants to kiss Sho back, he wants to make those soft, soft lips move against his own, but he just can’t breathe. He is too shocked to do anything despite having known that Sho was going to advance on him, maybe even kiss him like this.
Sho, somehow sensing Ohno’s nervousness parts his own lips and licks the edges of Ohno’s making the smaller man gasp. He takes the chance and dives into Ohno’s mouth, searching and licking. Ohno groans, squirming against Sho. His mind goes hazy when Sho’s erection (because it is so plainly that) rubs against Ohno’s. How in the world is Sho managing to keep himself up in such a position? He wonders feebly before surrendering thought for feeling. He focuses of the way Sho’s hips are moving so that their bodies are getting just the right amount of friction and the way his tongue is now traveling down from his lips to create circles on the sensitive skin of his neck. “S-Sakurai…” Ohno chokes, shuddering. He wants more and to let Sho know, he wraps his arms around the man’s back and pulls him down on top of him, hard.
“It’s Sho,” Sho groans into Ohno’s neck, biting it gently. “If you’re going to call my name, call me Sho.”
“Sho.” Ohno’s voice is week. “Sho, please. I… I want…” Slowly, Sho raises himself from Ohno’s body, propping himself up so he can stare down at the man. His pupils are dilated and searing. “I want you to fuck me,” Ohno states.
Sho grins an evil sort of grin before hurriedly stripping himself and Ohno of their yukatas and throwing them off somewhere to the side of the room. He prepares Ohno skillfully, moaning in return when Ohno groans out his pleasure, his cock growing harder with each plunge of Sho’s fingers.
His heart stutters when Sho deftly replaces his fingers with his hot and hard cock. Expertly, he moves his hips, as though he’s done this many a time before. He lowers his head to Ohno’s neck and his pants flutter hotly against the skin as he moves. Ohno cries out and squirms, any pain fading with searing pleasure. With a swirl of his hips, Sho is hitting Ohno’s prostrate and Ohno just can’t take it anymore.
“Sho,” he cries, grabbing hold of the sloping, broad shoulders. “S-Sho.” Again and again Sho hits that sweet spot of undeniable pleasure, groaning deep in his throat as he does so, the friction also bringing him increasingly close to release.
Just a few more thrusts and Ohno’s eyes vision is erased by a black marker, shuddering and whimpering as his orgasm runs its course. He feels Sho releasing into him not soon after, knowing it was because of his tightness and clenching muscles and probably nothing more.
Sho collapses on Ohno, sighing contently, but Ohno does no such thing. He rolls Sho off of him, knowing that neither of them is actually that drunk. Quietly, his whole body still shaking, Ohno retrieves a wet towelette form the bathroom and cleans Sho and himself off. He discards it idly and crawls beside Sho, pulling over a blanket to cover them with.
Before saying anything he thinks he will regret, he grabs Sho’s hand, warming when Sho returns the touch by holding it back. He takes a deep breath, stares at the ceiling and says the words so low that they’re almost silent. But he knows Sho can hear him for his grip slackens on Ohno’s hand. Yet, he doesn’t completely let go. He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, he is so sure. “You’re married, aren’t you.”
---
He curls into a ball, back on his own futon and breathes in the calming sweet scent of the room. Birds chirp in the early morning, warming the frosted earth with their melodies. Somewhere in the distance a wind chime rings in the soft breeze. Everything is kind, everything is warm, everything except Ohno. He does not want to move. He knows Sho is gone. He knows it and yet he doesn’t want to experience it, so it’s a while before he gets up from his spot to shower.
Today is the sixth and last day there, the day that they are supposed to leave. Ohno is standing in the bathroom, alone in the couple’s room again as though he’d never been there with someone else to begin with. The bedroom is empty when he returns to it except for the one futon that is his and his luggage, already packed and ready to go.
Ohno’s heart feels heavy, even though he saw this coming. A flashback of the first time Ohno saw Sho hits him, the hand extending to meet his, to take the ticket, had a shining gold ring on the ring finger. Clearly a wedding ring. Ohno had only chosen to forget about it. So it was, again, his fault.
Being careful not to cause the floor to creak where he walks, he steps lightly in order to reach his belongings and falls into a sitting position in front of them. Sho must have packed on his behalf because Ohno hasn’t once touched his stuff since he got dressed the day before. Gingerly, he lifts the cover to the suitcase and peeks inside. His sketch pad and the pencil Sho had bought them lay on top, with a loose piece of paper sticking out the edge. Thinking that it was his drawing, Ohno’s heart drops, making him feel sick. But as he pulls it out, he realizes that it is actually a fairly small piece of paper. On it is a neatly scrawled address and a short note;
Thank you for the drawing, Ohno-san. I will cherish it. -Sho Sakurai
Weakly, Ohno laughs. He bends over his bags and begins to laugh with uncertainty, gripping the tiny letter in hands, crumpling it roughly. Sho had given him something that he could not accept, and honestly, he is thinking about throwing the item away. He doesn’t want to, but he knows he should because it is tempting; just as tempting as the man himself with the cherry red lips and sweeping dark hair. Recalling that chocolate voice, whispering Ohno’s full name fondly and sadly before he left, Ohno lifts himself and stood.
No, he will not throw the note away. He is not one of those saddened people who tries to forget a loved one when they suddenly upped and left. Even though it hurts, Ohno isn’t that kind of a person. He wants to cherish everything, like the song of the night and the melody of the morning; the sound of Sho’s breath hitting his neck as he delved further inside of him, the bubbling and groaning of his laughter when Ohno said something that wasn’t even that funny. The only reason why he was able to enjoy the week to such an extent was because of Sho, wasn’t it? Clearly yes is the answer. Sho had even given him incentive to draw again.
No, Ohno isn’t willing to forgive and forget. Sho had bestowed Ohno with wonderful, irreplaceable memories and a great friendship. And despite any kind of baggage Sho carries on his own, Ohno knows he will remember too. So he won’t forget, not the short time they spent together.
Ohno pockets the note, intending to put it in a safe spot when he gets home, gathers his bags and leaves the couple’s room of the onsen without even once looking back.
Group/Pairing: Arashi/Yama Pair
Prompt: no. 005: Trip
Word Count: 3921
Rating: NC-17 (for one scene)
Summary: Ohno takes a short vacation at a couple's onsen even though he is not coupled with anyone
Disclaimer: Although I have written this story, I am sad to say that I do not own the characters represented in it ;_;
Note: Okay! Finally I finished it :] I'm not as happy with the... middle as I wanted to be, but I like this kind of pacing. I admit, I left some loopholes, but that's the way I like it. I like this fic more than others, but it isn't my favorite. Writing in this tense is hard for me XD Hope I did okay otherwise :D
PS stories may not be coming up for a little bit because I'm writing one for je_holiday and it's a secret until reveals ;]
------
He eases his body into the steaming bath, a groan of pleasure emanating from his lips to mingle with the singers of the night. The breeze whistles, chilling his exposed skin. He slips down further into the water so only his head above his lips is subject to the cold. It’s summer but the night is laced with crisp chilliness, a strikingly welcome contrast to the waters that nearly burn his aching bones. But he is content with himself, blowing bubbles idly just below the surface. The stars glitter and wink their approval as the night plays an orchestra one can only appreciate if they really listen.
He is glad he came here, if only for a week, and happier still that the trip was free. Despite his love for the studio, breaks were a dire necessity every once and a while. His bones and muscles could only last so long unhindered.
Ohno sighs and braces his body against the low walls containing him and the water. Closing his eyes, he allows himself to doze listlessly as he listens to the composer direct the show. He’s proud that he obtained a front row seat for nowadays the concerts are seldom played, especially for him no matter how late he stays out.
A veil of sleep shades his bagged eyes before long and he wonders who will be there to wake him? Yet he is relieved to be alone with the wind playing with the vapor from the dancing water. It is a welcome and uncommon chance. He is very lucky, he smiles.
Just as his consciousness sinks as deep as the pulsing ocean of dreams, a tap on his shoulder pulls him up and out, eyes blinking away the residue of darkness. Confused -he’s supposed to be alone, right?- he looks up and down and around to finally lay his eyes upon a squatting figure to his right.
“So you’re the one who gave me the ticket, huh?” Says a chocolaty voice from deep cherry lips that Ohno remembers. He stands quickly, water dripping from his naked body, indifferent to the situation. An incredible sense of vertigo befalls him and he sways, vision swirling out of his grasp. Warm hands catch his suddenly falling frame causing a pulsing shiver to disperse hotly throughout him.
“I-I think I was in too long,” he mutters, having trouble moving his lips correctly. Stepping out of the man’s grasp he notices he can’t hear the song anymore and frowns.
“Before you go, I’m Sho,” the man says, worry mingled in his introduction.
“Ohno,” he replies and hurries off.
---
He is elated when he wins the grand prize- couple’s tickets to a couple’s private room at an onsen- but that’s before he realizes that he is not coupled with anyone. Ohno wants to go but knows it would be a waste to throw out the accompanying ticket; maybe someone else could use it? So he asks around, leaving the rally and walking through the sunny town. Of course, people turn him down with looks of either confusion or disgust; it’s the city after all. He knows that there will be someone to accept his generous prize though, so he keeps searching.
Then he spots a man in a suit sitting with his back against a looming tree and just has to approach him. The tree shades the man and Ohno as he enters its vicinity, thrusting the ticket in the young man’s face. Confusion blossoms on the strong features, but a hand is raised to receive the offered (maybe even forced) ticket. Words are just beginning to form on the cherry lips before Ohno flees the scene, pleased with himself.
---
Ohno wiggles into the futon that he presumes is his -there are now two side-by-side- and begins to think. Now he is not alone. He wonders why he is so empty headed all the time. How could he not have noticed that the tickets were a set time only? Even when he’d called the dance studio, he hadn’t noticed anything. It’s not fair, he thinks, that he has to spend the week of his vacation with a young man he doesn’t know at all. It’s not fair that he can’t ask or tell him to leave- the whole thing is his fault anyway.
But, he thinks, but the man is very nice to look at. At least that’s a plus. Ohno smirks a little and then jolts when he hears footsteps, the lights shivering back on. Hurriedly he closes his eyes and turns to the side, pretending to be asleep.
The footsteps continue to dully pound against the wooden floor. Ohno doesn’t know how long it is before the lights turn out with a flash because he is on his way to the depth of the oceans again. But just before he reaches the bottom of blissful oblivion he hears the words, “Please treat me favorably,” from that creamy chocolate voice.
---
The next day Ohno does his best to avoid Sho. For some reason, he has the strongest feeling that he shouldn’t get involved with the man. He really doesn’t know why because Sho seems to be an okay guy. And if Ohno’s gut wasn’t telling him not to, he would be trying harder to get along with the man. Again, he thinks it’s not fair that he has to be cautious on his vacation, but again he remembers that everything, even the decision, is his own fault.
Sitting at one of the table by the ice cream bar in the little guest area of the onsen, Ohno taps his fingers on the table with a frown on his face. Really, what is he doing? The day is beautiful, the onsen is gorgeous and relaxing, but he can’t sit still. He can’t allow himself to relax even though that’s exactly what he came here to do! With a heaving grown Ohno drops his head to the table, gritting his teeth. Then he quickly gets up and retires to his- their room.
He stops shortly as he enters through the sliding door. Sho is sitting there against the far wall in a flowing dark blue yukata reading a newspaper rather seriously. As Ohno enters he looks up, folds it, and smiles up at the shorter man.
“Welcome back. Did you enjoy the arcade?” Hesitantly, Ohno nods in reply, but doesn’t move. He doesn’t know where to go in the small space.
Sho seems to notice Ohno’s awkwardness and gently spots the space next to him, offering him a calming and inviting smile. “Come sit?”
Ohno doesn’t know what to do. So he stands in his spot for a few seconds later, just mulling over the situation. He’s attracted to this man and probably wrongly so. That’s why something inside is warning him against it with all its strength. He knows he shouldn’t and he knows he should stop himself before he is too far gone (although it’s just a week, what could happen?) but he walks over and sits beside Sho and they start talking. Ohno easily falls into the man’s rhythm, smiling and laughing quietly at the stupid puns he makes.
---
“Hey.” Ohno grumbles and turns over in the futon. It’s actually really comfortable. He’s always liked sleeping on the floor. “Ohno-san, hey.” Ohno blinks and frowns, pulling his blankets over his ears. He doesn’t want to get up. Can’t that person who’s calling him let him be? Quickly, the sweet melody of sleep tucks him in, only to be dispersed all too soon. “Ohno-san!”
Ohno’s eyes flash and he flips onto his back, scowling up at Sho just as he sticks his finger into Ohno’s ear. Ohno wrinkles his nose and swats Sho’s long-fingered hand away, muttering something under his breath. “What?” He grumbles, rather unhappily.
Sho sits back on his heels and grins as though he’s accomplished a great feat. Ohno stares back curiously. “You draw, isn’t that right?”
Taken aback, Ohno nods and then shakes his head. “I had said I used to draw.” He points out, recalling their conversation from the night before. “Now the dance studio takes up all my time.”
Sho nods and Ohno spots a slight expression of unhappiness settling across his smooth features. “How… How come?” He dares to venture. After how easily they talked last night, even without drinks, Ohno can’t bring himself to deter the nice man. He’s shy, kind of. Smart, really. But mostly a dork. Frankly, he finds Sho’s clumsiness cute.
Sho brightens and leans forward as though he has something great to tell Ohno. “Can you draw me?” The question freezes Ohno, but only after his chin has fallen to his chest. Draw? Sho wanted him to draw? And to do a portrait! How many years had it been? Ohno can’t remember. It has been too long. He doesn’t know if he can. He is afraid he was no good anymore. But his hands itch.
Closing his eyes, Ohno takes a deep breath and empties his head of any rational thoughts. He focuses on the itching of his hands. They are begging, almost pleading him to pick up a pencil, a paintbrush, a pen, anything again. He remembers the lines he used to draw; the way his utensil flowed freely across the canvas, an extension of his steady hands. They never shook when he drew.
Slowly, Ohno raises his eyelids to glance up at Sho from under them. “I can dance for you?” He suggests feebly, clenching his fists yet allowing a sarcastic smile to flit over his lips. Sho chuckles. “I don’t have a pencil or an art pad or anything,” he admits. “So it would be kind of difficult to get something done.”
Sho just nods and stands, smiling down at Ohno and then turning to his bags. “I’ll go buy something then.”
---
Ohno is drawing Sho. He can’t believe what a relief it is to sit and draw. “You don’t have to sit still,” Ohno mumbles quietly, his eyes flying from Sho’s stoic face to the pad with a bunch of smooth lines on it. Nothing much has started yet, but things like that take time. “I’m not drawing you that way.”
“Oh, but I thought…” Sho shifts, but still doesn’t change positions.
“You thought wrong,” Ohno says bluntly. Sho looks at the ground, embarrassed. Sighing, Ohno places his new pad -he’ll be drawing more from now on, he knows it- on the floor beside him and looks pointedly at Sho. “I’m drawing you,” he says carefully, “as I would draw anything else. I don’t want it to look… like anything else someone would draw. So I’m doing it from the way I see you.” He pauses, noticing that Sho is looking at him with a tiny, pleased smile on his lips and color floods to his cheeks. Fumbling, he grabs the art pad again and continues to sketch, hurriedly and rushed, yet effectively. “If that’s okay.” He’s embarrassed and Sho knows it because the model is laughing quietly to himself and standing.
“I understand, Ohno-san.” Sho stands above Ohno again, but Ohno refuses to look up this time, attempting to hide his prettily blushing face. He leans down so his lips are brushing against Ohno’s ear. “Thank you.”
---
Lines swirl and curve, sharpening at the appropriate points to form shapes that then morph into smiling eyes, soft eyelashes. A bridge of a nose erupts strongly off the page, melting down into those slightly smiling, cherry lips that Ohno is now so fond of. Sketches of youth line the round cheeks and feathers of hair swoop across the wide forehead. Ears poke deliberately from the feathers, listening intently. A long, strong neck unfolds from the chin, rolling into broad shoulders and a visible collar bone.
Ohno refuses to let Sho see the work until it’s done. He will not paint it. He will not edit it. He will give it to the man as is. But he will not let the man see the work in progress. It would give too much away, yet not enough. There’s so much flowing through Ohno’s poor brain as he draws out the handsome man still sleeping beside him. He’s handsome, he’s beautiful, he’s kind and smart. Ohno’s getting carried away and he’s scared of what’s going to happen next. But as he draws the calm figure, that sweet man with the deep, rich voice and dark red, luscious lips, he feels himself fall a little further.
---
Again he feels himself nodding off to a pleasant sleep in the private bath. He’s only half listening to Sho because it’s hard for him to pay attention to the man in a strictly friendly way. Actually, it’s near impossible. Especially since the man is naked and sitting next to him in a bath. The best alternative is sleep, but obviously Sho isn’t seeing things Ohno’s way because he places a warm hand on his arm and shakes him out of the half-asleep stupor.
“You’re not listening,” he pouts, bottom lip protruding dangerously. Ohno has to bite his own lip and look away, mumbling something like ‘sorry’. Sho’s hand lingers on Ohno’s arm for a few seconds before he slides over. It is quiet for a while. Ohno can clearly hear the night song ringing in his ears and a soft smile glides over his lips. His eyes flutter shut and he leans back against the edge of the hot bath. He’s content again. Even if he gets pruney, he doesn’t want to get up and leave. And even if Sho starts talking again, he won’t want to leave because that voice is just as attractive as the clear night above and around him.
“Hey, Ohno-san?” Ohno lazily opens his eyes, searching for Sho. The young man moves closer to Sho and lifts his hand out of the water. Ohno tracks its movements carefully, his eyes half-lidded. Heat that isn’t from the bath seeps into his bones, running through his enflamed veins; he knows what Sho is doing.
A tingle of electricity bright as the sun shoots down his arms as Sho’s hand brushes against is, sparks nearly visible as it slips further down to grab Ohno’s limp hand? “Is it okay?” Ohno nods; it’s more than okay.
---
The only thing Ohno knows is that the picture’s done and that’s why he’s drinking with Sho in their room. No, it’s more than that. He’s drinking with Sho because he’s frightened. Ever since the day before, Sho’s been looking at him. Sometimes heatedly, sometimes sadly, and sometimes as though he’s frightened -frightened of himself. Ohno doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s too scared to ask, but that’s okay because now he’s drinking and he’s drinking with Sho. His mind is already half gone, and it’s definitely not into sleep this time. Along with the incredibly strong alcohol, Sho’s warmth is prying its way through the seam of Ohno’s yukata. His hand is travelling up his leg, tickling the bare skin as the material is brushed dejectedly out of the way.
A sliver of Ohno’s rationality, all that remains, tells him that he should be cautious. He should be, really. The warning flashes ever strongly in front of his dangerously lidded eyes. But he doesn’t listen to it. He doesn’t even pay any mind to it because now Sho is pushing him onto the wooden floor. His strong hands are traveling up Ohno’s body, making him shiver but not from cold. He is far from cold. Strings of heat are galloping about in his body, most of it traveling to form a knot in the lower half of his stomach.
Sho crawls above Ohno, his hot breath brushing against Ohno’s parted and wet lips. He licks them nervously and notices Sho’s breath hitch before the cherry lips are pressing gently against his own. Ohno doesn’t know what to do. Well, he does, but his body isn’t working. He wants to kiss Sho back, he wants to make those soft, soft lips move against his own, but he just can’t breathe. He is too shocked to do anything despite having known that Sho was going to advance on him, maybe even kiss him like this.
Sho, somehow sensing Ohno’s nervousness parts his own lips and licks the edges of Ohno’s making the smaller man gasp. He takes the chance and dives into Ohno’s mouth, searching and licking. Ohno groans, squirming against Sho. His mind goes hazy when Sho’s erection (because it is so plainly that) rubs against Ohno’s. How in the world is Sho managing to keep himself up in such a position? He wonders feebly before surrendering thought for feeling. He focuses of the way Sho’s hips are moving so that their bodies are getting just the right amount of friction and the way his tongue is now traveling down from his lips to create circles on the sensitive skin of his neck. “S-Sakurai…” Ohno chokes, shuddering. He wants more and to let Sho know, he wraps his arms around the man’s back and pulls him down on top of him, hard.
“It’s Sho,” Sho groans into Ohno’s neck, biting it gently. “If you’re going to call my name, call me Sho.”
“Sho.” Ohno’s voice is week. “Sho, please. I… I want…” Slowly, Sho raises himself from Ohno’s body, propping himself up so he can stare down at the man. His pupils are dilated and searing. “I want you to fuck me,” Ohno states.
Sho grins an evil sort of grin before hurriedly stripping himself and Ohno of their yukatas and throwing them off somewhere to the side of the room. He prepares Ohno skillfully, moaning in return when Ohno groans out his pleasure, his cock growing harder with each plunge of Sho’s fingers.
His heart stutters when Sho deftly replaces his fingers with his hot and hard cock. Expertly, he moves his hips, as though he’s done this many a time before. He lowers his head to Ohno’s neck and his pants flutter hotly against the skin as he moves. Ohno cries out and squirms, any pain fading with searing pleasure. With a swirl of his hips, Sho is hitting Ohno’s prostrate and Ohno just can’t take it anymore.
“Sho,” he cries, grabbing hold of the sloping, broad shoulders. “S-Sho.” Again and again Sho hits that sweet spot of undeniable pleasure, groaning deep in his throat as he does so, the friction also bringing him increasingly close to release.
Just a few more thrusts and Ohno’s eyes vision is erased by a black marker, shuddering and whimpering as his orgasm runs its course. He feels Sho releasing into him not soon after, knowing it was because of his tightness and clenching muscles and probably nothing more.
Sho collapses on Ohno, sighing contently, but Ohno does no such thing. He rolls Sho off of him, knowing that neither of them is actually that drunk. Quietly, his whole body still shaking, Ohno retrieves a wet towelette form the bathroom and cleans Sho and himself off. He discards it idly and crawls beside Sho, pulling over a blanket to cover them with.
Before saying anything he thinks he will regret, he grabs Sho’s hand, warming when Sho returns the touch by holding it back. He takes a deep breath, stares at the ceiling and says the words so low that they’re almost silent. But he knows Sho can hear him for his grip slackens on Ohno’s hand. Yet, he doesn’t completely let go. He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, he is so sure. “You’re married, aren’t you.”
---
He curls into a ball, back on his own futon and breathes in the calming sweet scent of the room. Birds chirp in the early morning, warming the frosted earth with their melodies. Somewhere in the distance a wind chime rings in the soft breeze. Everything is kind, everything is warm, everything except Ohno. He does not want to move. He knows Sho is gone. He knows it and yet he doesn’t want to experience it, so it’s a while before he gets up from his spot to shower.
Today is the sixth and last day there, the day that they are supposed to leave. Ohno is standing in the bathroom, alone in the couple’s room again as though he’d never been there with someone else to begin with. The bedroom is empty when he returns to it except for the one futon that is his and his luggage, already packed and ready to go.
Ohno’s heart feels heavy, even though he saw this coming. A flashback of the first time Ohno saw Sho hits him, the hand extending to meet his, to take the ticket, had a shining gold ring on the ring finger. Clearly a wedding ring. Ohno had only chosen to forget about it. So it was, again, his fault.
Being careful not to cause the floor to creak where he walks, he steps lightly in order to reach his belongings and falls into a sitting position in front of them. Sho must have packed on his behalf because Ohno hasn’t once touched his stuff since he got dressed the day before. Gingerly, he lifts the cover to the suitcase and peeks inside. His sketch pad and the pencil Sho had bought them lay on top, with a loose piece of paper sticking out the edge. Thinking that it was his drawing, Ohno’s heart drops, making him feel sick. But as he pulls it out, he realizes that it is actually a fairly small piece of paper. On it is a neatly scrawled address and a short note;
Thank you for the drawing, Ohno-san. I will cherish it. -Sho Sakurai
Weakly, Ohno laughs. He bends over his bags and begins to laugh with uncertainty, gripping the tiny letter in hands, crumpling it roughly. Sho had given him something that he could not accept, and honestly, he is thinking about throwing the item away. He doesn’t want to, but he knows he should because it is tempting; just as tempting as the man himself with the cherry red lips and sweeping dark hair. Recalling that chocolate voice, whispering Ohno’s full name fondly and sadly before he left, Ohno lifts himself and stood.
No, he will not throw the note away. He is not one of those saddened people who tries to forget a loved one when they suddenly upped and left. Even though it hurts, Ohno isn’t that kind of a person. He wants to cherish everything, like the song of the night and the melody of the morning; the sound of Sho’s breath hitting his neck as he delved further inside of him, the bubbling and groaning of his laughter when Ohno said something that wasn’t even that funny. The only reason why he was able to enjoy the week to such an extent was because of Sho, wasn’t it? Clearly yes is the answer. Sho had even given him incentive to draw again.
No, Ohno isn’t willing to forgive and forget. Sho had bestowed Ohno with wonderful, irreplaceable memories and a great friendship. And despite any kind of baggage Sho carries on his own, Ohno knows he will remember too. So he won’t forget, not the short time they spent together.
Ohno pockets the note, intending to put it in a safe spot when he gets home, gathers his bags and leaves the couple’s room of the onsen without even once looking back.