[041] Can't Fight the Moonshine - K8/Arashi (Hina/Ohno)
Title: Can't Fight the Moonshine
Group(s): Appearances by Kanjani 8, Arashi, NEWS, KAT-TUN, and TOKIO members (among others)
Pairing/Genre: Hina/Ohno; AU (1930's Chicago speakeasy)
Rating/Warnings: light R; frotting, anachronisms
Word Count: 2400
Summary: Chicago, 1931. At the height of Prohibition, only the Mafia, money hungry and idiotic dare defy the government. And Murakami Shingo.
Notes: For yue_akuma at jerainbowbridge! :) I've been wanting to write a 1930's-era fic for AGES so when I saw your prompt said "Chicago 1930's" I was all over it. :D This is during Prohibition and shortly after the stock market crash (figure a year and a half or so). I tried to get this as historically accurate as possible, but I'm sure I erred somewhere.
•••••
The hum of the sewing machines was almost rhythmic as Hina walked through the factory. The sun was just beginning to dip low in the evening sky behind the high windows. It was one of the few times during his day that Hina could walk past the lines of workers stitching clothes and now be bombarded by his upper level staff with questions about fabrics and work hours and "are we really going to be shutting down?"
Reaching his tiny, paper-strewn office, Hina closed the door and sighed heavily. The truth was that he didn't know if they'd be shutting down. The warehouse was hemorrhaging money, still hadn't recovered from the stock market crash. They'd been one of the lucky ones, though, being able to provide their workers with employment and a decent enough wage. The streets of Chicago were filled with families rendered homeless, penniless, hopeless. Hina settled into his rickety office chair and flipped open the books, grimacing for a moment at the incoming and outgoing totals (the numbers were getting dangerously close to each other) before sliding it away and grabbing the second set.
The real truth was that the factory wasn't what kept them all afloat.
---
"Who's on tonight? Becky again?" Ohno asked, carefully placing the tumbler he was wiping down back in its place.
Hina pulled another chair from the top of its table and righted it on the floor, keeping his eyes carefully away from Ohno's long, graceful fingers. He'd spent several nights (that he would never admit to) pondering what exactly those fingers were capable of. "Mm," he hummed in response.
"Oh good," the bartender replied, wiping another glass serenely. "I love when she sings."
The real truth, Hina was almost ashamed to admit, was that a majority of his revenue came from The Blind Tiger. His club. His illegal club. The one where he sold his own home-brewed liquor. The club that would get him thrown in jail for a very long time if they were ever reported to the local authorities. He'd kept his nose clean, though, avoiding the mob and keeping his patrons happy. The pianist, Ohkura, had learned early on which songs were not a good idea to play to a house of 50 drunken factory workers. Adding Becky to the lineup, with her big green eyes and sweet smile, had been one of their better plans.
It had been Ohno's idea to turn the basement into a bar. Yoko and Aiba had jumped on-board quickly with their own home-brewed beers and better-than-average moonshine. It was almost a year later they added their own fruit and vegetable wines (that actually didn't taste as bad as they sounded). Within a few months, the four of them had completely overhauled the dusty, dank basement into something serviceable.
Then came Koki as their door guy cum bouncer; having been in a spot of trouble here and there himself, he was familiar with the signs. And most of the Chicago Police Department, it seemed. Hina liked Koki, but he did wonder about his past more than once.
Ohkura and Becky were the last to join their little family after Ohno convinced him they needed more than just booze to bring the people to The Blind Tiger. Night after night, Ohkura's fingers danced across the ivories while Becky crooned her sweet, sad songs to their patrons.
It didn't surprise him, not terribly, when Hina rounded the corner to the makeshift dressing room and found his entertainment staff yelling at each other.
"I am not singing Embracable You again, Tacchon!" Becky shouted, tugging her spangled costume into its proper place.
"It was by request," Ohkura shot back.
"It's always by request," she pouted. Becky sat down on one of the low stools and put her chin in her hands.
"I'll buy you a cream puff tomorrow," Ohkura replied, idly twirling a drumstick.
Becky huffed and stood, flipping her hair and finally catching sight of Hina. "This is all your fault, I'll have you know," she said and stormed out.
"What did I do?" Hina asked, mouth agape.
Ohkura sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "You hired Aiba."
---
Sho had been the one to really make The Blind Tiger beautiful. Another of Ohno's friends, Hina wondered, but didn't question his bartender's seemingly endless web of contacts. Sho had been a university student when the market crashed, but after losing his shot at education, he'd started working with his hands, building things. He'd built the bar - a rich, dark cherry wood with gold accents and the obvious loving marks that come with carpentry.
"Where in the world did you find him?" Hina asked Ohno as they stood in the empty, newly renovated space. The tables and chairs matched the gleaming bar down to the last detail. The lighting low and atmospheric.
Ohno just shrugged and nudged Hina's shoulder. "Can't say," he replied with a secret smile.
Hina sighed and ignored the bolt of electricity racing through is body at the contact.
"But he could always stay and help Aiba, if you wanted to keep him around for repairs or something," Ohno continued, nonchalant.
Hina crossed his arms silently.
"He studied chemistry while he was at university," Ohno said with a shrug. "Could be useful."
The next day, Aiba whooped with joy as Sho laid out his plans for a new brewing tub.
---
Hina was crunching numbers for what felt like the millionth time when there was a knock on his office door. Before he could reply, in bounded Aiba with his megawatt smile, a slightly sheepish looking Sho and Yoko, ever staid, behind him. Ohno ambled in last, closing the door quietly. Pushing aside the horrifying thought that they (the club, the factory, the workers) won't be around in six months unless something drastically changes, Hina scrubbed a hand across his face and tries to smile.
"What can I do you for, gentlemen?"
Aiba practically vibrated with excitement, dropping a bottle on his desk and smiling broadly. "We've brought you a present, Boss."
Hina eyed the bottle carefully, his gaze darting to the four of them in turn before stopping on Ohno. "What is this?"
"It's a new compound we've been working on," Sho explained, popping to the top of the bottle and pouring some of the clear liquid into a small cup.
"Sho came up with it," Yoko interjected. "It's a new variant on moonshine. More stable, less likely to make you go blind. All the potency of moonshine, but without the ‘mule piss' taste."
"I did all the mixing!" Aiba announced proudly.
Sho rolled his eyes fondly and held the cup out to Hina. "Just try it," he said, eyes hopeful. "If you hate it, we haven't made that much. But if you love it, we can knock out a few gallons by tomorrow night."
Eyes darting to Ohno's small smile again, Hina nodded and took a sip. And then promptly started choking.
"Potent," he said through wheezing coughs.
"But smooth," Yoko replied.
Hina caught his breath and looked at them all carefully, their hopeful faces in turn. Ohno just nodded once, his smile staying firm. Shaking his head, Hina admitted defeat.
"Fine, we'll put it on the menu," he replied, ignoring Aiba's happy shout. "But if anyone dies, it's coming off immediately, got it?"
"Got it, no killing our customers," Sho replied, smiling broadly as he recapped the bottle.
Hina sighed, his eyes meeting Ohno's calming brown ones. Resisting a smile, he shooed them out of his office and got back to his worrying.
---
The club was just starting to warm up, Becky singing one of their more upbeat numbers, when Akanishi and Nishikido, two of their regulars, came bursting through the secret tunnel entrance behind the bar.
"Hi Jin," Ohno said, not pausing his fluid movement from customer to customer. "Ryo."
Hina hurried over from where he'd been chatting with one of his factory workers to narrow his eyes at Akanishi.
"I thought we discussed not using the tunnel for your personal playground, Akanishi," he growled, voice low and menacing as he ushered them out from behind the bar and into the common area.
"Sorry, boss, but the paddywaggon showed up at Tokio's and we had to get out of there," Akanish said through heaving breaths.
Hina's blood ran cold. Tokio's was the next speakeasy over, two buildings down on the other side of the street. He'd known the owner, Matsuoka, since university. It had been Matsuoka's idea to join the bars via tunnels, in case of an emergency.
"Were you followed?" he asked quietly, stepping closer.
"I don't think so," Nishikido interjected. "Matsuoka was arrested, but he made a big scene and almost everyone got out."
"Good," Hina replied, sighing with relief. "Satoshi, free drinks for these boys, yeah?"
Ohno nodded and poured four glasses, handing off two to their new arrivals and pushing the third toward Hina, who smiled gratefully.
"To continuing freedom," Ohno said, slamming his own drink back with a grimace.
"To freedom," Hina replied softly. He wasn't sure how much longer they'd remain free, but he hadn't abandoned hope quite yet.
---
Things were bad. Worse than Hina initially thought, which wasn't exactly fantastic to begin with. The raid the previous month on Tokio's had scared off their regular patrons. They'd had to stop brewing for fear of running out of space (and blowing up the building). Hina had already shortened the factory's work week to three days to try to cut costs, but it just wasn't enough. They were going to have to close.
"Hey," Ohno's soft, melodic voice filtered through Hina's woes.
Looking up, Hina felt his frown lift into a small grin at the sight of his old friend.
"Hey," he replied, his shoulders instantly relaxing. "What brings you down here? You're not on for a few more hours."
Ohno just stared him down, shifting nervously from foot to foot. That was unusual. Ohno wasn't one to normally be uncomfortable, especially around Hina.
"Are we closing?" he finally asked.
Hina's sharp intake of breath seemed to be enough as Ohno just smiled sadly and nodded, looking at his feet.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
"I was going to tell you Satoshi, I just didn't know how."
Looking back up, Ohno met Hina's concerned gaze. "I might be able to help," he said, tossing a small bundle on the edge of the desk.
Hina stood and rounded the desk to look at the bundle - cash, and a lot of it, bound together with butcher's twine. His eyes widened dramatically as he looked from the money to Ohno and back again.
"Where the hell did you get this?" he asked quietly.
"Been saving it for a rainy day," Ohno replied, shrugging. "Doesn't get much rainier than this, I guess."
Hina's mind swirled with a million emotions as he fingered the cash over and over. "I can't accept this, Satoshi," he finally said.
One of Ohno's hands closed over his, long fingers wrapping around his wrist lightly.
"Yes you can," Ohno replied. His eyes were warm and caring as always, but Hina swore he saw something deeper there, something more.
That could be what made him kiss his oldest and dearest friend. Hina pulled back and immediately started panicking. He'd just kissed Ohno. His friend Ohno. His male friend Ohno who had questionable sexuality, but remained largely celibate from what Hina could tell (not that he'd been keeping track or anything). Hina's heart sank, then fluttered nervously as he noticed the sparkle in Ohno's eye.
"If I knew all it took to get you to do that was three grand, I would've done it a long time ago," Ohno said, laughing quietly.
"Three...." Hina started. His mind whirled. Three thousand dollars. That was enough to pay off the debts for the factory and get them back on track. And then some. Ohno's expectant gaze turned dark and lustful as Hina slid his fingers under his suspenders and tugged Ohno forward. Biting back a groan, Hina leaned down and brushed his lips across Ohno's cheekbone.
"Thank you," he murmured, caught up in the feel of Ohno's skin against his lips. Ohno wrapped his arms about Hina's waist and pulled him closer, the front of their pants just brushing enough for Hina to feel the warm curl in his stomach turn into a hot spike of desire.
Their lips met again and again while breathy, quiet moans escaped here and there. Hina was pleasantly surprised as Ohno twirled his long fingers through Hina's belt loops and arched against him, their clothed erections grinding hard and fast. Hina choked out a quiet sob and claimed Ohno's lips yet again, sucking lightly before plunging his tongue into the velvet heat, stealing Ohno's breath in the process. Hands were everywhere - hair, pants, back, hair again - as they discovered each other for the first time. Hina pulled Ohno closer still and ground against him, thighs spread, his cock rubbing against Ohno's leg with fervor. They rocked against each other for a few moments, gasping into the other's mouth as they came in unison, neither daring to shout their release. The warehouse was on skeleton crew, but the threat of being caught was still there.
Hina held Ohno close for a moment as he considered what they'd just done. Their friendship would be over, he was sure of it. But if he were very very lucky, something new might bloom from it.
Chuffing laughter came from his shoulder and Hina looked down, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Now that's what I call a celebration," Ohno said quietly, lifting his head to claim Hina's lips once more.
"No," Hina replied, stepping back to survey the damage and grimacing at his wet pants. His warehouse, his club, his livelihood was saved. He'd be able to live another day without having to worry about where his next meal was coming from. And all thanks to this quiet, amazing, talented man standing before him. "The real celebration will be tonight." He glanced up at Ohno's confused face. "When I can have you in my bed."
Ohno smiled broadly and nodded. "Definitely should've chipped in ages ago."
Group(s): Appearances by Kanjani 8, Arashi, NEWS, KAT-TUN, and TOKIO members (among others)
Pairing/Genre: Hina/Ohno; AU (1930's Chicago speakeasy)
Rating/Warnings: light R; frotting, anachronisms
Word Count: 2400
Summary: Chicago, 1931. At the height of Prohibition, only the Mafia, money hungry and idiotic dare defy the government. And Murakami Shingo.
Notes: For yue_akuma at jerainbowbridge! :) I've been wanting to write a 1930's-era fic for AGES so when I saw your prompt said "Chicago 1930's" I was all over it. :D This is during Prohibition and shortly after the stock market crash (figure a year and a half or so). I tried to get this as historically accurate as possible, but I'm sure I erred somewhere.
•••••
The hum of the sewing machines was almost rhythmic as Hina walked through the factory. The sun was just beginning to dip low in the evening sky behind the high windows. It was one of the few times during his day that Hina could walk past the lines of workers stitching clothes and now be bombarded by his upper level staff with questions about fabrics and work hours and "are we really going to be shutting down?"
Reaching his tiny, paper-strewn office, Hina closed the door and sighed heavily. The truth was that he didn't know if they'd be shutting down. The warehouse was hemorrhaging money, still hadn't recovered from the stock market crash. They'd been one of the lucky ones, though, being able to provide their workers with employment and a decent enough wage. The streets of Chicago were filled with families rendered homeless, penniless, hopeless. Hina settled into his rickety office chair and flipped open the books, grimacing for a moment at the incoming and outgoing totals (the numbers were getting dangerously close to each other) before sliding it away and grabbing the second set.
The real truth was that the factory wasn't what kept them all afloat.
---
"Who's on tonight? Becky again?" Ohno asked, carefully placing the tumbler he was wiping down back in its place.
Hina pulled another chair from the top of its table and righted it on the floor, keeping his eyes carefully away from Ohno's long, graceful fingers. He'd spent several nights (that he would never admit to) pondering what exactly those fingers were capable of. "Mm," he hummed in response.
"Oh good," the bartender replied, wiping another glass serenely. "I love when she sings."
The real truth, Hina was almost ashamed to admit, was that a majority of his revenue came from The Blind Tiger. His club. His illegal club. The one where he sold his own home-brewed liquor. The club that would get him thrown in jail for a very long time if they were ever reported to the local authorities. He'd kept his nose clean, though, avoiding the mob and keeping his patrons happy. The pianist, Ohkura, had learned early on which songs were not a good idea to play to a house of 50 drunken factory workers. Adding Becky to the lineup, with her big green eyes and sweet smile, had been one of their better plans.
It had been Ohno's idea to turn the basement into a bar. Yoko and Aiba had jumped on-board quickly with their own home-brewed beers and better-than-average moonshine. It was almost a year later they added their own fruit and vegetable wines (that actually didn't taste as bad as they sounded). Within a few months, the four of them had completely overhauled the dusty, dank basement into something serviceable.
Then came Koki as their door guy cum bouncer; having been in a spot of trouble here and there himself, he was familiar with the signs. And most of the Chicago Police Department, it seemed. Hina liked Koki, but he did wonder about his past more than once.
Ohkura and Becky were the last to join their little family after Ohno convinced him they needed more than just booze to bring the people to The Blind Tiger. Night after night, Ohkura's fingers danced across the ivories while Becky crooned her sweet, sad songs to their patrons.
It didn't surprise him, not terribly, when Hina rounded the corner to the makeshift dressing room and found his entertainment staff yelling at each other.
"I am not singing Embracable You again, Tacchon!" Becky shouted, tugging her spangled costume into its proper place.
"It was by request," Ohkura shot back.
"It's always by request," she pouted. Becky sat down on one of the low stools and put her chin in her hands.
"I'll buy you a cream puff tomorrow," Ohkura replied, idly twirling a drumstick.
Becky huffed and stood, flipping her hair and finally catching sight of Hina. "This is all your fault, I'll have you know," she said and stormed out.
"What did I do?" Hina asked, mouth agape.
Ohkura sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "You hired Aiba."
---
Sho had been the one to really make The Blind Tiger beautiful. Another of Ohno's friends, Hina wondered, but didn't question his bartender's seemingly endless web of contacts. Sho had been a university student when the market crashed, but after losing his shot at education, he'd started working with his hands, building things. He'd built the bar - a rich, dark cherry wood with gold accents and the obvious loving marks that come with carpentry.
"Where in the world did you find him?" Hina asked Ohno as they stood in the empty, newly renovated space. The tables and chairs matched the gleaming bar down to the last detail. The lighting low and atmospheric.
Ohno just shrugged and nudged Hina's shoulder. "Can't say," he replied with a secret smile.
Hina sighed and ignored the bolt of electricity racing through is body at the contact.
"But he could always stay and help Aiba, if you wanted to keep him around for repairs or something," Ohno continued, nonchalant.
Hina crossed his arms silently.
"He studied chemistry while he was at university," Ohno said with a shrug. "Could be useful."
The next day, Aiba whooped with joy as Sho laid out his plans for a new brewing tub.
---
Hina was crunching numbers for what felt like the millionth time when there was a knock on his office door. Before he could reply, in bounded Aiba with his megawatt smile, a slightly sheepish looking Sho and Yoko, ever staid, behind him. Ohno ambled in last, closing the door quietly. Pushing aside the horrifying thought that they (the club, the factory, the workers) won't be around in six months unless something drastically changes, Hina scrubbed a hand across his face and tries to smile.
"What can I do you for, gentlemen?"
Aiba practically vibrated with excitement, dropping a bottle on his desk and smiling broadly. "We've brought you a present, Boss."
Hina eyed the bottle carefully, his gaze darting to the four of them in turn before stopping on Ohno. "What is this?"
"It's a new compound we've been working on," Sho explained, popping to the top of the bottle and pouring some of the clear liquid into a small cup.
"Sho came up with it," Yoko interjected. "It's a new variant on moonshine. More stable, less likely to make you go blind. All the potency of moonshine, but without the ‘mule piss' taste."
"I did all the mixing!" Aiba announced proudly.
Sho rolled his eyes fondly and held the cup out to Hina. "Just try it," he said, eyes hopeful. "If you hate it, we haven't made that much. But if you love it, we can knock out a few gallons by tomorrow night."
Eyes darting to Ohno's small smile again, Hina nodded and took a sip. And then promptly started choking.
"Potent," he said through wheezing coughs.
"But smooth," Yoko replied.
Hina caught his breath and looked at them all carefully, their hopeful faces in turn. Ohno just nodded once, his smile staying firm. Shaking his head, Hina admitted defeat.
"Fine, we'll put it on the menu," he replied, ignoring Aiba's happy shout. "But if anyone dies, it's coming off immediately, got it?"
"Got it, no killing our customers," Sho replied, smiling broadly as he recapped the bottle.
Hina sighed, his eyes meeting Ohno's calming brown ones. Resisting a smile, he shooed them out of his office and got back to his worrying.
---
The club was just starting to warm up, Becky singing one of their more upbeat numbers, when Akanishi and Nishikido, two of their regulars, came bursting through the secret tunnel entrance behind the bar.
"Hi Jin," Ohno said, not pausing his fluid movement from customer to customer. "Ryo."
Hina hurried over from where he'd been chatting with one of his factory workers to narrow his eyes at Akanishi.
"I thought we discussed not using the tunnel for your personal playground, Akanishi," he growled, voice low and menacing as he ushered them out from behind the bar and into the common area.
"Sorry, boss, but the paddywaggon showed up at Tokio's and we had to get out of there," Akanish said through heaving breaths.
Hina's blood ran cold. Tokio's was the next speakeasy over, two buildings down on the other side of the street. He'd known the owner, Matsuoka, since university. It had been Matsuoka's idea to join the bars via tunnels, in case of an emergency.
"Were you followed?" he asked quietly, stepping closer.
"I don't think so," Nishikido interjected. "Matsuoka was arrested, but he made a big scene and almost everyone got out."
"Good," Hina replied, sighing with relief. "Satoshi, free drinks for these boys, yeah?"
Ohno nodded and poured four glasses, handing off two to their new arrivals and pushing the third toward Hina, who smiled gratefully.
"To continuing freedom," Ohno said, slamming his own drink back with a grimace.
"To freedom," Hina replied softly. He wasn't sure how much longer they'd remain free, but he hadn't abandoned hope quite yet.
---
Things were bad. Worse than Hina initially thought, which wasn't exactly fantastic to begin with. The raid the previous month on Tokio's had scared off their regular patrons. They'd had to stop brewing for fear of running out of space (and blowing up the building). Hina had already shortened the factory's work week to three days to try to cut costs, but it just wasn't enough. They were going to have to close.
"Hey," Ohno's soft, melodic voice filtered through Hina's woes.
Looking up, Hina felt his frown lift into a small grin at the sight of his old friend.
"Hey," he replied, his shoulders instantly relaxing. "What brings you down here? You're not on for a few more hours."
Ohno just stared him down, shifting nervously from foot to foot. That was unusual. Ohno wasn't one to normally be uncomfortable, especially around Hina.
"Are we closing?" he finally asked.
Hina's sharp intake of breath seemed to be enough as Ohno just smiled sadly and nodded, looking at his feet.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
"I was going to tell you Satoshi, I just didn't know how."
Looking back up, Ohno met Hina's concerned gaze. "I might be able to help," he said, tossing a small bundle on the edge of the desk.
Hina stood and rounded the desk to look at the bundle - cash, and a lot of it, bound together with butcher's twine. His eyes widened dramatically as he looked from the money to Ohno and back again.
"Where the hell did you get this?" he asked quietly.
"Been saving it for a rainy day," Ohno replied, shrugging. "Doesn't get much rainier than this, I guess."
Hina's mind swirled with a million emotions as he fingered the cash over and over. "I can't accept this, Satoshi," he finally said.
One of Ohno's hands closed over his, long fingers wrapping around his wrist lightly.
"Yes you can," Ohno replied. His eyes were warm and caring as always, but Hina swore he saw something deeper there, something more.
That could be what made him kiss his oldest and dearest friend. Hina pulled back and immediately started panicking. He'd just kissed Ohno. His friend Ohno. His male friend Ohno who had questionable sexuality, but remained largely celibate from what Hina could tell (not that he'd been keeping track or anything). Hina's heart sank, then fluttered nervously as he noticed the sparkle in Ohno's eye.
"If I knew all it took to get you to do that was three grand, I would've done it a long time ago," Ohno said, laughing quietly.
"Three...." Hina started. His mind whirled. Three thousand dollars. That was enough to pay off the debts for the factory and get them back on track. And then some. Ohno's expectant gaze turned dark and lustful as Hina slid his fingers under his suspenders and tugged Ohno forward. Biting back a groan, Hina leaned down and brushed his lips across Ohno's cheekbone.
"Thank you," he murmured, caught up in the feel of Ohno's skin against his lips. Ohno wrapped his arms about Hina's waist and pulled him closer, the front of their pants just brushing enough for Hina to feel the warm curl in his stomach turn into a hot spike of desire.
Their lips met again and again while breathy, quiet moans escaped here and there. Hina was pleasantly surprised as Ohno twirled his long fingers through Hina's belt loops and arched against him, their clothed erections grinding hard and fast. Hina choked out a quiet sob and claimed Ohno's lips yet again, sucking lightly before plunging his tongue into the velvet heat, stealing Ohno's breath in the process. Hands were everywhere - hair, pants, back, hair again - as they discovered each other for the first time. Hina pulled Ohno closer still and ground against him, thighs spread, his cock rubbing against Ohno's leg with fervor. They rocked against each other for a few moments, gasping into the other's mouth as they came in unison, neither daring to shout their release. The warehouse was on skeleton crew, but the threat of being caught was still there.
Hina held Ohno close for a moment as he considered what they'd just done. Their friendship would be over, he was sure of it. But if he were very very lucky, something new might bloom from it.
Chuffing laughter came from his shoulder and Hina looked down, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Now that's what I call a celebration," Ohno said quietly, lifting his head to claim Hina's lips once more.
"No," Hina replied, stepping back to survey the damage and grimacing at his wet pants. His warehouse, his club, his livelihood was saved. He'd be able to live another day without having to worry about where his next meal was coming from. And all thanks to this quiet, amazing, talented man standing before him. "The real celebration will be tonight." He glanced up at Ohno's confused face. "When I can have you in my bed."
Ohno smiled broadly and nodded. "Definitely should've chipped in ages ago."