50 je-prompts: #004. grasp
rating/genre: PG, supernatural au, romance, fluff
pairing(s): Ohmiya
words: 854
summary: Ohno tries to draw beauty but there’s always something missing. Then he dreams of Nino.
disclaimer: fiction.
notes: what can i say, i dig when ohmiya are *~meant to be together~* this is technically the end of this oneshot but i like this au so i do want more related pieces in the future. c/c welcome.
we traced each others' outlines in the morning: part two
Breakfast is relaxed and filled with well-paced conversation. Ohno’s mother relays the daily news and tasks that need to be completed, from which Ohno learns that if he continues to choose to forget when dancing classes are scheduled for any longer, the school will choose to forget that he was ever enrolled. His mother reports this with a raised eyebrow and a smile, the birth of his new shade of skin no longer a mystery to her. There is a lesson tomorrow afternoon.
Ohno comes back to the room to clear away his materials, and is slightly stumped by the figure lounging out on the engawa, gazing out into the garden. It is not his father or mother, both of whom were still at the table talking moments ago, and it is not his sister, as she would not have paid a return visit without both herself and her husband first paying the proper greetings. Besides, the person’s hair is much too short. Ohno slowly turns the lack of options around in his mind and concludes it is an intruder. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and takes one deliberate step at a time that begins with the heel placed down quietly and rolling up until he has his weight on the balls of his feet. He is silent as he moves across the usually creaky wooden floor panels.
He lets go of his breath in a heavy sigh as he crosses his legs and settles down next to the stranger.
If the intruder is surprised, he doesn’t show it, save for the slightest twitch of the shoulders in his grey-blue yukata. The stranger stops staring out into the garden to look at him, making Ohno too turn to look the person in the face. It leaves his mouth gaping for words but his mind racing. It’s the same face. The same eyes that seem to know exactly what he’s thinking, the eyebrows that quirk expressively when he smiles that feline smirk. The same nose, the same hair, and now that he looks closer, the body is as he envisioned as well. Ohno recalls that he has a mouth.
“I dreamt of you.” Ohno’s eyes eagerly trace the lines of his dream, right down to the toes that match the fingers. The dream smiles thinly as if in disdain, but faint creases appear at the edges of his eyes.
“People tend to do that after meeting me.”
“No- I’ve never met- I drew you.” Ohno doesn’t get up completely but twists around and stretches out towards his table and the used paper still upon it. He lunges a few times and just manages to catch hold of the paper’s edge. He can feel the dream’s eyes unstraying from his back (or lower?). Ohno sniffs as he crawls back up and mutters something about not showing many people his drawings, but stops when he finally has a proper view of the paper with the dream’s portrait. There’s nothing there. The paper is as fresh as if it hasn’t been used. Slightly panicked, he scrambles up to rifle through the remaining papers on the table. The dream watches him for a minute, then finally pipes up, bored of the seemingly unending spectacle.
“Your intent was quite strong, you know.” Ohno looks up from his scavenge, eyebrows raised. The boy (he can’t be any older than himself, and he would barely consider himself an adult no matter how old he was) points down at the abandoned once-drawn upon paper. “That was me. I was that. I guess there’s a god doting on you or something, ‘cause this would take some strong spiritual energy. Oh, and sorry about your drawing, but at least you’ve got me, instead.” Ohno tries to process this, and decides that from the beginning is best. He gets up from the table and kneels down in front of the dream-drawing-boy.
“My intent?” The young man looks away from his gaze, but now Ohno has clear view of one of his quickly reddening ears. He thinks for a moment, then reaches out to grasp the boy’s thin wrist. His dream, his drawing, his head jerks back to stare at him in surprise, and for a moment Ohno wants to try flying because if there was ever a moment that it would succeed it would probably be now. For a few minutes all they do is sit, hand holding firmly on wrist, eye's looking straight into each other. There's a slight tenseness in the air. Ohno's never been great at keeping concentration though, and begins to rub a small circle into the boy's skin absentmindedly with his thumb. This produces a little giggle and wide grin. He tries to clear his throat (he recalls how much he wanted to sing out the first time- the first time?- he saw his dream’s smile) but all that comes out is a husky, “Are you real?”
“As real as I’ll ever be.”
“What’s your name?”
“Call me Nino.”
( to a linked oneshot )
( to the next part )
pairing(s): Ohmiya
words: 854
summary: Ohno tries to draw beauty but there’s always something missing. Then he dreams of Nino.
disclaimer: fiction.
notes: what can i say, i dig when ohmiya are *~meant to be together~* this is technically the end of this oneshot but i like this au so i do want more related pieces in the future. c/c welcome.
we traced each others' outlines in the morning: part two
Breakfast is relaxed and filled with well-paced conversation. Ohno’s mother relays the daily news and tasks that need to be completed, from which Ohno learns that if he continues to choose to forget when dancing classes are scheduled for any longer, the school will choose to forget that he was ever enrolled. His mother reports this with a raised eyebrow and a smile, the birth of his new shade of skin no longer a mystery to her. There is a lesson tomorrow afternoon.
Ohno comes back to the room to clear away his materials, and is slightly stumped by the figure lounging out on the engawa, gazing out into the garden. It is not his father or mother, both of whom were still at the table talking moments ago, and it is not his sister, as she would not have paid a return visit without both herself and her husband first paying the proper greetings. Besides, the person’s hair is much too short. Ohno slowly turns the lack of options around in his mind and concludes it is an intruder. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and takes one deliberate step at a time that begins with the heel placed down quietly and rolling up until he has his weight on the balls of his feet. He is silent as he moves across the usually creaky wooden floor panels.
He lets go of his breath in a heavy sigh as he crosses his legs and settles down next to the stranger.
If the intruder is surprised, he doesn’t show it, save for the slightest twitch of the shoulders in his grey-blue yukata. The stranger stops staring out into the garden to look at him, making Ohno too turn to look the person in the face. It leaves his mouth gaping for words but his mind racing. It’s the same face. The same eyes that seem to know exactly what he’s thinking, the eyebrows that quirk expressively when he smiles that feline smirk. The same nose, the same hair, and now that he looks closer, the body is as he envisioned as well. Ohno recalls that he has a mouth.
“I dreamt of you.” Ohno’s eyes eagerly trace the lines of his dream, right down to the toes that match the fingers. The dream smiles thinly as if in disdain, but faint creases appear at the edges of his eyes.
“People tend to do that after meeting me.”
“No- I’ve never met- I drew you.” Ohno doesn’t get up completely but twists around and stretches out towards his table and the used paper still upon it. He lunges a few times and just manages to catch hold of the paper’s edge. He can feel the dream’s eyes unstraying from his back (or lower?). Ohno sniffs as he crawls back up and mutters something about not showing many people his drawings, but stops when he finally has a proper view of the paper with the dream’s portrait. There’s nothing there. The paper is as fresh as if it hasn’t been used. Slightly panicked, he scrambles up to rifle through the remaining papers on the table. The dream watches him for a minute, then finally pipes up, bored of the seemingly unending spectacle.
“Your intent was quite strong, you know.” Ohno looks up from his scavenge, eyebrows raised. The boy (he can’t be any older than himself, and he would barely consider himself an adult no matter how old he was) points down at the abandoned once-drawn upon paper. “That was me. I was that. I guess there’s a god doting on you or something, ‘cause this would take some strong spiritual energy. Oh, and sorry about your drawing, but at least you’ve got me, instead.” Ohno tries to process this, and decides that from the beginning is best. He gets up from the table and kneels down in front of the dream-drawing-boy.
“My intent?” The young man looks away from his gaze, but now Ohno has clear view of one of his quickly reddening ears. He thinks for a moment, then reaches out to grasp the boy’s thin wrist. His dream, his drawing, his head jerks back to stare at him in surprise, and for a moment Ohno wants to try flying because if there was ever a moment that it would succeed it would probably be now. For a few minutes all they do is sit, hand holding firmly on wrist, eye's looking straight into each other. There's a slight tenseness in the air. Ohno's never been great at keeping concentration though, and begins to rub a small circle into the boy's skin absentmindedly with his thumb. This produces a little giggle and wide grin. He tries to clear his throat (he recalls how much he wanted to sing out the first time- the first time?- he saw his dream’s smile) but all that comes out is a husky, “Are you real?”
“As real as I’ll ever be.”
“What’s your name?”
“Call me Nino.”
( to a linked oneshot )
( to the next part )