50 je-prompts: #017. admire
Three movies that are interesting for either gay or writing purposes: Imagine Me & You (lesbian rom-com which is amazing plot, script and character-wise and pales to nothing), Breakfast With Scot (a gay couple can have personalities as well, and they don't have to be sucking each others' face off) and Stranger Than Fiction (a meta story about writing and the narrative, lovely screenwriting as well).
rating/genre: PG, romance, fluff, slice-of-life
pairing(s): Ohmiya
words: 944
summary: Nino can’t sleep and lights up a loving and devoted cigarette at four in the morning.
disclaimer: fiction.
notes: A sort of vignette. Established relationship. Warning for use of tobacco, mention of (past?) girlfriends and mild language. Edit: oh dear grammatical errors that make it even to the lj-cut text. As usual, concrit welcome.
I saw you in that haze, my addiction
It’s not completely silent in his apartment; the clock on the shelf at the head of his bed ticks incessantly and there’s a quiet whirr of the air-conditioning as it adjusts its temperature by a degree and a half. Nino is only half-covered by the blankets, legs sticking out and hair rising from the artificial coolness. The clock just keeps ticking. Its hands glow in the dark and point to a time at which he should be asleep and ready for the day full of filming ahead.
Nino sighs and gently lifts the blankets off his body. He slides from the mattress to place his feet on the wooden floorboards with only the slightest of creaks. Slipping through the open bedroom door, he pads across the living room to the balcony entrance, picking up his pack of smokes, lighter and ashtray along the way.
There’s the echo of late-night traffic passing by; engines humming and an occasional beep. Nino slides the door shut again before setting the ashtray by his side and lighting up. The cigarette fits comfortably in between his fingers in the same way that one sinks into a worn-in couch with a sigh of familiarity.
The smoke forms tendrils that wander into the night sky, and Nino just stays there for a while, elbows on his crossed knees and face looking up at the hazy path. The lit end of his cigarette punctuates the darkness of 4 A.M. on his balcony. He breathes in deeply and it brightens up with a mild enthusiasm for continuing his addiction (never stop smoking me, I love you, will never betray you, always be here for you). Nino vaguely recalls how his last girlfriend would lean on his shoulder and point out images in the smoke. He could never really see what she could; it was all girly shit like flowers and birds anyway and he was too busy feeling the nicotine flowing through his veins to care. He blows out a thin wisp and stares at it journeying out into the city scenery. Tapping his cigarette against the ashtray, he hopes that it’ll find its way into the throat of a paparazzi photographer.
The rattling of the sliding door has Nino slowly turning his head after taking one last puff. He blows the smoke into Ohno’s face as it emerges from the shadows of the apartment. Letting out a single cough, Ohno shuffles over to get comfortable beside him, legs threading through the balcony bars.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
Nino takes in the man slouched beside him, in faded boxer shorts and a ratty t-shirt that have been on rotation for the past eight years with no sign of retiring any time soon. They’ve been hanging on him a lot looser lately. Ohno reaches over for Nino’s pack and picks a smoke out (always the second on the first row, and when the first row runs out the fourth on the second, thinks Nino). He tilts his face and unlit cigarette towards him in a silent request, and Nino obliges, bringing the end of his cigarette to the other. After a few igniting puffs, he’s given a lopsided smile in thanks. The cigarette tilts at an angle that threatens to burn a hole right in the Yokohama FM logo.
With a snort Nino butts his stub out in the ashtray. “It pains me when Sleeping Beauty wakes up and steals my smokes.”
Ohno simply takes a drag and shrugs. He hunches into himself and if it weren’t for the puffs of smoke coming out of his mouth intermittently Nino would have mistaken him for fallen asleep. He taps out a beat on the top of Ohno’s hand.
“See anything?” Nino asks, shoulder indicating towards the haze.
“Smoke,” Ohno replies flatly.
“Be romantic.”
“Hang on, there’s definitely a bit of you in there somewhere. It’s got your eyes.”
“Our baby grew up so fast,” sighs Nino, hiding his grin in Ohno’s back.
Nino weaves their fingers together.
“Do you think you’re an addiction?” Nino asks, looking right into Ohno’s clear eyes. He gets back the gentlest smile and crinkling of eyes in response, and he can’t help but pluck the cigarette from Ohno’s lips and press his own against them. They kiss slowly, and it’s flavoured by tobacco and sleep. Nino curls the hand holding the cigarette around Ohno’s neck, letting the smoke trail behind him. Through his half-lidded eyes it looks as if Ohno is smouldering.
“I feel like shit, cheating on my smokes with you,” Nino sighs into Ohno’s mouth. “She knows about us, but she’d prefer to have a part of me than nothing at all.”
Ohno reaches over to mirror Nino’s position, hand wrapping around his neck. Fingers caress the spot of skin behind his ear in mock apology. “It’s my fault. I tempted you.”
“I come back in the morning smelling of you and all my cigarettes do is ask if I had fun.” Nino makes his tone as accusatory as possible, and Ohno pouts against his lips.
“If she takes the apartment, you can come live with me,” he murmurs.
“Sorry, I need my space.”
“Damn. I would’ve made the breakup easy for you. We even taste the same.”
Nino pulls away to steal a drag before returning the cigarette to Ohno’s mouth. Halfway through exhaling a yawn overcomes him. Their fingers slowly unlace as he gets up and heads back to the door. Shrouded in the apartment’s darkness, he turns back for one last look at Ohno’s slouched back.
“Actually, you taste better.” Nino plods back to their bedroom.
Ohno smiles against the filter.
rating/genre: PG, romance, fluff, slice-of-life
pairing(s): Ohmiya
words: 944
summary: Nino can’t sleep and lights up a loving and devoted cigarette at four in the morning.
disclaimer: fiction.
notes: A sort of vignette. Established relationship. Warning for use of tobacco, mention of (past?) girlfriends and mild language. Edit: oh dear grammatical errors that make it even to the lj-cut text. As usual, concrit welcome.
I saw you in that haze, my addiction
It’s not completely silent in his apartment; the clock on the shelf at the head of his bed ticks incessantly and there’s a quiet whirr of the air-conditioning as it adjusts its temperature by a degree and a half. Nino is only half-covered by the blankets, legs sticking out and hair rising from the artificial coolness. The clock just keeps ticking. Its hands glow in the dark and point to a time at which he should be asleep and ready for the day full of filming ahead.
Nino sighs and gently lifts the blankets off his body. He slides from the mattress to place his feet on the wooden floorboards with only the slightest of creaks. Slipping through the open bedroom door, he pads across the living room to the balcony entrance, picking up his pack of smokes, lighter and ashtray along the way.
There’s the echo of late-night traffic passing by; engines humming and an occasional beep. Nino slides the door shut again before setting the ashtray by his side and lighting up. The cigarette fits comfortably in between his fingers in the same way that one sinks into a worn-in couch with a sigh of familiarity.
The smoke forms tendrils that wander into the night sky, and Nino just stays there for a while, elbows on his crossed knees and face looking up at the hazy path. The lit end of his cigarette punctuates the darkness of 4 A.M. on his balcony. He breathes in deeply and it brightens up with a mild enthusiasm for continuing his addiction (never stop smoking me, I love you, will never betray you, always be here for you). Nino vaguely recalls how his last girlfriend would lean on his shoulder and point out images in the smoke. He could never really see what she could; it was all girly shit like flowers and birds anyway and he was too busy feeling the nicotine flowing through his veins to care. He blows out a thin wisp and stares at it journeying out into the city scenery. Tapping his cigarette against the ashtray, he hopes that it’ll find its way into the throat of a paparazzi photographer.
The rattling of the sliding door has Nino slowly turning his head after taking one last puff. He blows the smoke into Ohno’s face as it emerges from the shadows of the apartment. Letting out a single cough, Ohno shuffles over to get comfortable beside him, legs threading through the balcony bars.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
Nino takes in the man slouched beside him, in faded boxer shorts and a ratty t-shirt that have been on rotation for the past eight years with no sign of retiring any time soon. They’ve been hanging on him a lot looser lately. Ohno reaches over for Nino’s pack and picks a smoke out (always the second on the first row, and when the first row runs out the fourth on the second, thinks Nino). He tilts his face and unlit cigarette towards him in a silent request, and Nino obliges, bringing the end of his cigarette to the other. After a few igniting puffs, he’s given a lopsided smile in thanks. The cigarette tilts at an angle that threatens to burn a hole right in the Yokohama FM logo.
With a snort Nino butts his stub out in the ashtray. “It pains me when Sleeping Beauty wakes up and steals my smokes.”
Ohno simply takes a drag and shrugs. He hunches into himself and if it weren’t for the puffs of smoke coming out of his mouth intermittently Nino would have mistaken him for fallen asleep. He taps out a beat on the top of Ohno’s hand.
“See anything?” Nino asks, shoulder indicating towards the haze.
“Smoke,” Ohno replies flatly.
“Be romantic.”
“Hang on, there’s definitely a bit of you in there somewhere. It’s got your eyes.”
“Our baby grew up so fast,” sighs Nino, hiding his grin in Ohno’s back.
Nino weaves their fingers together.
“Do you think you’re an addiction?” Nino asks, looking right into Ohno’s clear eyes. He gets back the gentlest smile and crinkling of eyes in response, and he can’t help but pluck the cigarette from Ohno’s lips and press his own against them. They kiss slowly, and it’s flavoured by tobacco and sleep. Nino curls the hand holding the cigarette around Ohno’s neck, letting the smoke trail behind him. Through his half-lidded eyes it looks as if Ohno is smouldering.
“I feel like shit, cheating on my smokes with you,” Nino sighs into Ohno’s mouth. “She knows about us, but she’d prefer to have a part of me than nothing at all.”
Ohno reaches over to mirror Nino’s position, hand wrapping around his neck. Fingers caress the spot of skin behind his ear in mock apology. “It’s my fault. I tempted you.”
“I come back in the morning smelling of you and all my cigarettes do is ask if I had fun.” Nino makes his tone as accusatory as possible, and Ohno pouts against his lips.
“If she takes the apartment, you can come live with me,” he murmurs.
“Sorry, I need my space.”
“Damn. I would’ve made the breakup easy for you. We even taste the same.”
Nino pulls away to steal a drag before returning the cigarette to Ohno’s mouth. Halfway through exhaling a yawn overcomes him. Their fingers slowly unlace as he gets up and heads back to the door. Shrouded in the apartment’s darkness, he turns back for one last look at Ohno’s slouched back.
“Actually, you taste better.” Nino plods back to their bedroom.
Ohno smiles against the filter.