Pain, aches, blurred vision, confusion. Ohno sat up from wherever he was, the bed, chair, floor, couch, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was in pain, everywhere. He raised a shaky hand to his face to rub the sleep and disorientation from his eyes and winced, shocked by the pain the touch elicited. Yet, he wasn’t.

Memories flooded through him slowly and uncomfortably as he stood. He was on the couch, he noticed, which made sense. Pain pinched at his cheek, nose, upper arms, and stomach. Gradually it all began to make sense again, as usual.

Ohno stumbled to the bathroom, an arm held closely over his bruised stomach. What did I do, he tried to remember, to make him so mad this time? But he couldn’t remember, not right away at least. Usually, that memory came last, if at all. He didn’t always get hit for a reason, but in the end he always attempted to find one. The fact that he could be hurt by the one he loved for no reason just seemed to incredibly illogical and even more painful than the skin he was in.

Once in the bathroom, Ohno shut the door, a soft click echoing audibly in the small room. He slid carefully out of his clothes, bruised body aching. Stripped and bare, he turned to look at himself in the mirror. What he saw wasn’t pleasant; ugly bursts of gradient black and purple adorned his body in such an intricate way that they were almost beautiful. The reasons behind them, however, were lacking, disgusting, and painful. They flowered and wove around his arms, exploded on his chest and stomach as dark, nasty fireworks. And on his face they masked his identity as if there were purposefully painted on his cheek bones and nose. His lips had swollen so much that he didn’t look like himself. Soft shades of red brushed and cracked against those puffy lips; he innately winced when he licked them.

After staring in wonder at himself for a good few minutes, Ohno moved away from the mirror to turn on the shower. He stepped in while bracing himself, the first shower after the assault was always the worst. Hissing, he stood under the scorching water, letting the heat sink into his battered bones.

Sho wouldn’t be back until later that night. And when he returned, he would probably have flowers and champagne and some other kind of present for Ohno, something Ohno had been wanting. That’s the way it turned out, every time. Sho was always apologetic for the next week, nursing Ohno back to health, making sure he had everything and anything he wanted. But it wasn’t long before that wore off. It wasn’t long before Sho got back to drinking, before the stress of work got to him, before there wasn’t much Ohno could to other than to let himself be Sho’s punching bag. Sometimes Ohno would screw up, but that wasn’t too often; Ohno was a docile person.

Anyone who knew what Sho did to Ohno told Ohno to get out of the relationship. Honestly, Ohno had told himself that even more often than they had; but he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Sho no matter how violent he could become. Right now wasn’t even close to the worst Ohno had encountered. Sho could be incredibly violent and unable to control himself.

Ohno was tired of it, tired of the pain and the obtrusive loneliness he felt every time he woke up. Sometimes he wouldn’t be able to remember the occurrences of the night before and just felt the pain. But others the memories would come back all too hard and he would wish that he didn’t have to remember, that he could just start over anew every time, like Sho did.

He washed himself gently, trying hard not too wince too much otherwise tears would be brought to his eyes. Ohno had pleaded with Sho before, but it would just end in Sho getting angry with him, or with Sho begging Ohno not to leave him. And Ohno could never refuse, he never would. He was stuck in this mess of a relationship. Without Sho, he would have nowhere to go, no one to rely on, no one to love, and he was frightened of that.

—-

Later that night Ohno awoke to a gentle pressure on his cheek. A hand wove itself gently into his soft brown hair which had finally dried while he was asleep on the couch.

“Satoshi,” whispered a deep, rich voice into his ear. Ohno sat up quickly, blinking into Sho’s face. A soft smile was seewn deeply onto those plump lips of his and as usual, Ohno found himself getting lost in them and the swirling dark brown eyes that revealed so little yet said so much.

“Are you hurting, Satoshi? I’m so sorry about last night, I…” Ohno stopped listening. He didn’t listen to Sho’s excuses anymore, they were all lame and forced. But he did accept the small wrapped gift and the bottle of expensive champagne from Sho’s warm hands, smiling up at him in what he hoped looked like gratitude.

Sho sighed in relief at this smile, what Ohno had expected, and lowered himself down onto the cushions beside his lover, squeezing his hand. “I love you, Satoshi.” Ohno found it hard to answer back, a morbid tightness gripping his chest as the words hit his heart.

——
Inside me the feelings swell like hatching butterflies
Ready to soar into the day and live their lives.

But what welcomes them is not what they expect
And the butterflies retreat into the safety of their cocoons.

The butterflies are not ready to see this world
That they have so hastily been welcomed to.

Behind my eyes the tears swell like ebbing waves
Crashing on the soft sand of the palest beaches.

Warm waters that spread in the light of the moon;
That grow and drown everything in its murky expanse.

The seas ebb and way
At no one’s expense but their own internal pull.

Around me people swell,
Grow and live and change and leave.

Around me, these people warm and rise to the music in their hearts
That I do not have.

These people are not me
And don’t know of the swelling aches and pains that adorn my body inside and out.

2011

What seemed like many minutes later, Emina’s ears pricked at the sound of a door opening and closing. Yes, she was in Aiba’s apartment which furthered her not so appropriate revelations. In a flash her back straightened and her hands fisted tighter in her lap, her body shaking with tension. “Aiba-san?” She whispered hesitantly. A breathy laugh returned her call and a spark of nerves attacked her body just from the sound of his sweet, deep voice.

“Emina-chan,” came that voice of his again and Emina jumped at the suddenness of his proximity. Warm hands gripped her small shoulders and prompted her to stand, catching her gently when she stumbled on cramped legs. He guided her around the room, more than a few steps and then stopped her abruptly. “Get ready for the best birthday present you will ever have, Emina-chan!” Anticipation sung through her veins, singing her skin with warmth just at Aiba tugged off the blindfold. What in the world was Aiba offering to her?

Emina had to blink a few times until her eyes adjusted to the intrusive light. In front of her was a large box and a cake decorated in white frosting and an incredible amount of strawberries. The box, however, caught her attention much more so than the aesthetically pleasing cake. Because there were sounds coming from it. As she stared, frightened and dumbfounded at the same time, Aiba came into her vision, taking up most of it. He was bursting with excitement.

“Well? Open it!” He took Emina’s hand and pushed her into another chair in front of the table with the noise-making box. “I could only get this at a certain time today, that’s why I made you wait here alone!” Emina silently wondered why she needed to be blindfolded for that, but shrugged it off. Her excitement was slowly waning but Aiba seemed so happy it wasn’t about to disappear all together.

Aiba took the box and thrust it into her lap and it rumbled and squealed. Her hands fumbled around it before she hesitantly started to tear at the paper. Once she got to the box, she glanced up at Aiba before opening it all the way. There, standing in the box, crying and wagging its tail at her was a small, brown and white cocker spaniel puppy. Emina gasped.

“Do you like him?” Aiba laughed, picking the puppy up seeing Emina was frozen in her seat. Her head swam in surprise and confusion. The dog barked and licked Aiba’s face excitedly. “He doesn’t have a name yet, but I’ve been seeing him every day for a week! I though part of your present could be naming him.”

A huge grin spread across Emina’s face and AIba handed her the puppy when she reached for him. It stared at her with big, round eyes and then grinned, its tail wagging slowly. “Masa-chan,” she whispered. Aiba laughed again, although this time it was more embarrassed than anything and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Happy Birthday Emina-chan.”

The sky in front of him was the clearest blue, cut in half by the deep blue-green of the ocean and the paint stroke of rocks on the horizon. His feet dangled from the wall he was sitting on, scraping the sides when he bounced his legs. In one hand he held a popsicle, the other dug into the grit of the edge of the ground. The day was perfect. Hot, not humid, clear, the rays of sun beating down on his skin, but the cool breeze of wind just enough to soothe its heat. The day was perfect, but he was perfectly bored as he continued to stare out into the horizon that he was so used to. Every year, every summer he came to the same spot. But growing older, things changed. Now, having just turned 17, he couldn’t just run off with another child and spend the day with them. No. He loved this scenery, the freedom, but the loneliness of everyday was just as bad as being alone in his room with only his games to accompany him.

It was only ten o’clock as Nino stared at the beach in front of him; literally his front yard just a ladder away; and people were already crowding its surface. Licking his dripping popsicle, the young boy surveyed the area. His second day here, but there had been nothing interesting, no one to watch nor to take note of. He wasn’t really used to this feeling of nothingness while being at his family’s summer home. Never had he felt so alone or like he didn’t have anything to do. It was an awkward and lonely feeling. And although it was ridiculous, he knew, he stared and searched the beach as if hoping to find someone he knew, someone he could walk up to and just strike up a conversation with because they were familiar.

With a grunt, Nino stood. His popsicle was done. He wiped the grit from his palm on his swim shorts and trudged across the hot green top into the house. There stood his older sister and her two friends (he hadn’t been able to get any of his few friends to tag along with him this year) lathering sunscreen onto each other. Nino looked away with a grimace as they teased him and giggled, thinking him embarrassed when he really just didn’t care. They didn’t understand anything. Yet he watched longingly as the three ran onto the beach and down to the low tide, wishing only slightly that it wouldn’t be awkward for him to go with them.

Resigned, Nino threw the popsicle stick away and took off his shirt, deciding to go down to the rocks before the tide started to come in. After applying a large amount of sunscreen to his white skin, he ran across the hot surface of the green top and ambled down the steps, looking around him. He had always thought that this house was so great, but none of the other beach-goers ever seemed to notice it too much, he’d realized. They never looked at him with jealousy as he walked down the steps though he stared at them with a condescending smile every day from the edge of the wall.

With a slightly frustrated sigh, he jumped from the lower ledge of the wall onto the beach, relishing the feel of the cool, wet sand beneath his bare feet. Although he didn’t really like the ocean itself (for nothing more than the fact that he got seasick easily), he loved the beach and how clean this one especially was. He took it slow walking towards the rocks, seeing a family to his left flying a kite in the steady breeze, a pair of kids building a castle (that was really more like a mound) and only a few people in the chilling water. This beach water was near to impossible to stay in for too long, being a low 65 degrees nearly every day, but it was great for tubing and relaxing at high tide.

Nino reached the rocks and stared up at them. Even from up close they didn’t seem to go that far into the ocean. But he knew better. Getting as far out as to be able to step in the water again took about 20 minutes. And even then there were the far rocks, though even more beautiful stunningly dangerous. He knew too well.

With his toe, Nino tipped over a small rock and watched a small crab scuttle away and disappear in the sand. He chuckled and started to amble up the rocks. Nino had no plan to go far, he wasn’t even wearing shoes, but still just walking on the smaller rocks was a task. Without thinking, he put out his hands to steady him as he stepped lightly on the barnacle clad rocks. He clicked his tongue in frustration, but continued to walk unsteadily; he was bored after all. Maybe if he could at least get to where the little pools of water filled with starfish and crabs and snails were, he could stop and look through them for a while.

After some tedious moments of walking while looking solely at his feet, Nino glanced up. Surprised he had come so far, he looked around, confused. People seemed to be leaving the beach. Then he turned his head toward the sky; it was a deathly grey. “Shit,” he moaned and hurriedly turned around, losing his already unsure footing as he did so.

Startled, Nino braced himself, expecting in less than a few seconds to encounter some severe pain, but it never came. Instead, there was a strong grip around his right arm, holding him in place rather sturdily. Immediately, he stiffened at the touch and once he had himself steadied, the hand released him. He looked up, embarrassed and frustrated, to see a young man about his age looking down at him worriedly. Weird that he hadn’t noticed him there before. The boy said something, but Nino ignored him and started walking towards the beach only to slip on another rock. Again, the hand caught him in a steady hold, keeping him upright without a problem. “Will you let go?” Nino muttered, and the hand was gone.

“Sorry,” the boy said, in a voice that was rich and deep like freshly melted chocolate. Nino stared at his feet, continuing to walk and the other boy followed in silence. He was tempted to look back, to ask why the other guy was even there, but he didn’t. Not until he was safely on the sand and the first few drops of rain began to trickle from the sky.

Quickly, Nino turned to stare up at the other guy. His dark brown hair was tussled thoroughly by the wind and unlike Nino, he wore a shirt to cover his chest. Dark, worried eyes searched his and Nino took a step back, suddenly flustered. “Anyway,” he started, as though they had been conversing the whole way back, “thanks for helping me.”

The boy smiled a half smile, but Nino held his stance. “It’s starting to rain,” he said in his deep voice as the two got drenched. “Do you need a ride to back where you’re staying?”

Nino grimaced, raising his hand and pointing to where his summer house was. “I’m right there.” Then, without saying anything more, he ran across the beach back to his house. He grabbed a towel as he entered, his mom fussing over his sister, and looked out the window on to the beach. It was completely empty. The handsome boy wasn’t there anymore. Nino cursed himself for being so stupid. Why had he acted so strange in front of him? “Oh well,” he muttered as he trudged to his room, “I probably won’t see him again anyway.”

—

Nino’s feet swung from the wall again, though today they were covered in band aids. The storm had cleared overnight and people once more crowded the beach below. He sighed, frustrated. His mom had forbid him the night before to go out on the beach today due to his damaged feet. She had scolded him for at least 20 minutes, telling him he needs to take better care of himself. Nino was sick of this tirade of hers. It happened every time he stayed in front of the TV or playing games for longer than recommended. He used to fight back, but he had learned recently to put up with it. Today though, he wouldn’t disobey her. His feet hurt too much.

“Seawater would be good for those,” said a familiar voice out of nowhere. Shocked, Nino looked around. Not seeing the boy from the day before around him, he looked down, beneath the wall, and frowned.

“You’re not allowed to be on this wall,” he said in a voice more venomous than he had intended. “See, it says ‘private property’ along it.” It was his pet peeve to see people placing their things on his wall, but even more so when they sat or stood on it. He could only say something about it if they did though.

The boy below him smirked and crossed his arms. Standing where he was, his head cocked back to look Nino, was so close that is Nino had the strength he could have lowered himself and kicked him in the face. Not that he would do that, even if his feet weren’t hurting. But still. “I know, idiot. I come here every summer.” And he pointed to the house right of Nino. “I’m allowed here, too. My family owns all the houses to your right of the one you’re staying at.”

Nino pursed his lips, glared, and turned away from the boy beneath him, laying down on the ground with his arms crossed behind his head. “I see you almost every summer,” he continued in his deep voice and Nino groaned loudly in obvious annoyance. “But you never seem to notice me.”  Nino ignored this comment, because it was more or less true. He wondered how he’d never seen the guy before, although he was always watching people. Especially if he stayed right next door. “Rich jerk,” he muttered under his breath.

The boy was quiet for so long that Nino was beginning to wonder if he’d left just like that. With some trouble, he pulled himself up and peeked below him. With a shock, he found that the boy was still standing there. The boy grabbed his sensitive feet, smiled up at him, and said, “I’m Sakurai Sho and I’ll be here for another two weeks,” before jumping onto the beach and running away without looking back.

——

Nino’s butt and fingertips were immersed in the chilly water as he drifted along the waves in a black tire tube. In the tube next to him, Sho had his head bent so far back that his dark hair brushed the water. The night Sho had introduced himself to Nino, he’d peered over the fence that separated them, called Nino to him, and they began talking. It was against Nino’s morals to talk to such an obviously stuck-up and rich person, he thought, but it turned out that Sho wasn’t exactly like that. Although he was an honor student and going to an Ivy League college, he didn’t brag about it. It also seemed that he was quite shy, as he was saying now, and that he’d went out on a limb the day he introduced himself.

Nino snorted and when the next wave bumped him forward, he kicked Sho in the face, not hard, but with enough pressure to make Sho’s head jerk up and water fly. The two tubes were tied together by a rope wrapped around a very large rock that held them down. Sho had been the one to carry it. He, surprisingly, was well built, compared to Nino who was white and virtually muscle less.

“Nino,” he whined. “That hurt,” Nino, whose eyes had trailed down Sho’s exposed body, turned away with a slight face and a click of his tongue.

“No it didn’t,” he countered, “you’re just weak.”

Sho turned a knowing smile towards him and his eyes narrowed, signifying that he was about to say something that would irk Nino even more. “Says the one who couldn’t even pick up the rock.” Nino growled in mock anger (he wasn’t the type of person to work out unless he needed to) and splashed water on Sho who just laughed at him and shook his head like a wet dog. “Anyway,” he said, his face turning a little more serious, “I’m surprised you’re even able to sit out on the tube. Don’t you get seasick?”

Nino dipped his fingers in the cold water again. “Like this, I’m fine.” Once Sho realized Nino wasn’t going to say anything more, he nodded and dipped his head back into the water.

For a while the two stayed like that. Nino had realized earlier that when they were together, there wasn’t really anything to talk about. He was going to be a freshman in a community college once summer ended while Sho was going to be a junior in the Ivy League, Nino played games while Sho read the newspaper. The only thing they seemed to have in common was the fact that they came to the beach every summer.

“I wonder why I never noticed you before,” Nino muttered, splashing some water off the tip of his fingers.

Sho chuckled , but didn’t lift his head. When he talked, his voice sounded strained due to the angle of his neck and Nino couldn’t help but shake his head. “I don’t know either. I don’t see you every year, but I have seen you a lot. Maybe you don’t get out enough?”

Nino splashed water on Sho’s face at the obvious attack to his pearly white skin. “Who cares about that, I go out enough during the summer.” He kept just the right amount of pride in his voice but he knew that Sho was laughing at him, though his face was turned away. “Whatever, at least I’m not a spoiled brat who stays inside studying all the time.”

This time, Sho sat up, a slightly hurt look on his face. “I’m not spoiled,” he replied sadly. “And I do other things other than studying.” The hurt in Sho’s voice made Nino’s heart clench and he slid off of his tube.

“I’m going in,” he said, slipping under the tube. Bring these up when you’re done. As Nino started walking to the shore, he heard Sho sigh behind him and imagined him putting his head back in the water.  Nino gritted his teeth and jumped onto the wall. This was going to be hard, he realized, being friends with Sho. But it would at least him from being bored every day.

——

Sho was there for dinner and Nino poked at his food as his mother fawned over him. Nino was annoyed, irritated, and frustrated, the three feelings swirling around in him as his mother laughed and Sho smiled in embarrassment. Fed up, he dropped his fork onto his plate, stood up, and dumped the food he had barely touched into the trash. Placing his dishes on the sink, he shoved his hands into his pockets and left the house to sit on the wall. No one said anything as he left. His sister and her friends, too, were fawning over Sho. Good, he though bitterly, now he can get a girlfriend, too. Though he didn’t even know if Sho had one or not.

Nino walked down the stairs to the beach and jumped onto the cold sand. The setting sun turned the scenery hues of orange, yellow, and red. Such a relaxing color that Nino loved. He strode to the water which wasn’t fully out yet and stood at the edge, taking deep breaths.  A few minutes later, he felt a presence behind him and automatically knew it was Sho.

“All she ever does is scold me,” he complained, kicking the water. Sho put a hand on his shoulder and Nino flinched, but neither of them moved it away. Nino realized he didn’t want the touch to go away.

“It’s cause you’re her kid, and I’m not.” Sho’s voice was soft and comforting and Nino turned his head away so Sho couldn’t see the understanding in his eyes even if he tried.

——

Nino crossed his legs on the bench on his deck and positioned his guitar. He stroked its body before placing his hands on the strings and playing. Soft noted floated from the guitar and Nino closed his eyes, strumming without much interest to if it formed a song or not. He just wanted to play.

In all honesty, he was tired and he wanted to go home, though he didn’t know the exact reason. He hung out with Sho every day, he didn’t have to study or anything, and it wasn’t like he had an urge for his computer when he had his DS with him, but he still felt like he wanted to leave.

Nino opened his eyes and moved his hands up and down the strings before settling on a note and playing a song. He sung quietly along, his eyes following his hand movements. When the song was finished he dropped his hands and sighed.

“That was very good,” came Sho’s voice out of nowhere and Nino jumped. Sho emerged from around the corner of the house, clapping. “I didn’t know you could play guitar.”

“Why would I need to tell you something like that?” Nino retorted, strumming random notes again as Sho sat next to him.

“Can you play something for me?” Sho asked hopefully, staring at Nino’s hands. Nino shook his head and moved to the over, away from Sho who was incredibly close. The proximity made his cheeks hot and his stomach twist. Sho crossed his arms but continued to stare at Nino until he huffed an exasperated breath. Sho smiled brightly and told him a song to play which Nino immediately started strumming to. “You’re good,” Sho said, obviously awed.

“I know,” Nino replied confidently before putting the guitar aside. “Why do you come over here all the time?” He asked suddenly, closing his eyes. The heat was making him tired.

After a few seconds, Sho replied. “Because we’re friends, aren’t we?”

——

The sound of popcorn popping filled the background noise as Nino inserted an old cassette tape into the TV. His mom and sister and her friends were out visiting family that Nino didn’t necessarily get along with so he had opted to stay home. And Sho had invited himself over once again, standing in front of the microwave as though his presence would make it pop faster.

“It’s an old movie,” Nino said again and Sho nodded. “You might not like it.”

“Whatever, it’s better than being with my family.” Nino settled for that and sat on the couch, waiting for Sho to come over.

When the popcorn was finished, he sat right next to him and handed the bag over to Nino. “So when are you leaving?” He asked, his eyes watching Nino instead of the TV. Nino busied himself by shaking the bag, pulling it open, and eating a few pieces before replying. He didn’t like his answer and he knew Sho wouldn’t either.

“The day after tomorrow.” Sho’s eyes stayed on him, but he kept his on the TV, stuffing his face full of popcorn. For the duration of the movie they sat like that, quiet and seemingly immersed in the movie but Nino knew better. He didn’t want to leave his new friend. The thought that he wouldn’t be able to see him until the next summer made his heart hurt. They had only known each other for a little over a week, but it was enough for Nino to grow attached and he knew that Sho was attached to him to and it made his heart jolt a little.

The movie ended suddenly and Nino stared blankly at the screen before rising, intending to turn it to the TV, but Sho grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the couch. Nino shot him an annoyed look, ready to open his mouth to say something nasty, but Sho’s eyes pierced him, pleading. He turned his head away abruptly, cheeks fuming. Although he tried to pull his hand from Sho’s grasp, the older boy wouldn’t let go and Nino gave up quickly, his heart thudding.

“Will you come over to my house for tomorrow night?” Sho asked, his voice quiet, rough, and sad. Nino turned to look at him finally, and he nodded.

——

Nino crawled into Sho’s bed upon his invitation, only slightly perturbed by the situation. “Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?” He huffed, embarrassed.

“No,” Sho laughed. “Why, do you?” The incredibility in Sho’s voice made Nino want to hit him, but he replied just as sarcastically.

“The closest thing I’ve had to a date was with my hand and a tissue.” Sho snorted and Nino smirked, pulling the covers over him. They were quiet for a while more. Hesitantly, Nino turned around so he could face his ‘friend’ and smiled when he saw than Sho’s eyes were closed. Sho had warned him that he was a crazy sleeper, but Nino didn’t care. Especially not as he moved closer to him, snuggling into his warm body. Sho’s eyes opened a crack and he smiled softly as Nino blushed. He threw a strong arm around the smaller boy and pulled him closer, snuggling tight

“I don’t want you to go,” Sho sighed tiredly.

“There’s always next summer,” Nino said through a yawn. And frankly, he was looking forward to what would happen then and to finding out what had changed since the last time they’d seen each other, entangled in the other’s arms.

——
Ohno didn’t normally do things like this. He wasn’t used to shopping even for himself, but for someone else? That was actually somewhat harder. Especially when it was for clothes. And even more especially when it was clothes for a girl, the girl he loved.

Dressed in skinny jeans (because when does Ohno Satoshi every wear skinny jeans?), a beater with a flannel on top, a new baseball cap (because he used up all his old ones), and a mask and sunglasses just to be sure, Ohno was at the mall. Yes, the mall, by himself. All for this one girl who had told him that for her birthday she wanted new clothes. She had told him that all she wanted was something he bought for her. In this case, he had to drag himself out of the house. Literally, since her birthday was only about 2 weeks away. On one of his free days he had relinquished his fishing plans to do this for her. To be honest, he wasn’t really happy about it, but he loved her nearly as much as he loved fishing. Just that she was human and gorgeous and he loved to see her happy for a second even if he was unhappy for a day.

In the end, it would be worth it, he told himself over and over again as he sidled through the mall. He really had no idea where to go… he hardly ever even went shopping for himself. How was he supposed to do this? What did she like to wear? She wasn’t always a girly girl… but there were times where she liked to dress up fancy, like for dates. Well, that made sense.

Ohno let out a groan. This was letting on to be much more difficult than he had expected, but she had declined his offer to take her along. Oh she was a cunning girl. She knew he would agonize over her and she wanted him to. He could almost see her cackling in front of her computer right now telling her best friend that her boyfriend was out shopping for clothes for her. How accomplished she must feel.

But he knew she was happy, so he decided to push his feelings of foreboding out of his mind for the time being. He sat down on a bench in one of the hallways and slipped his backpack off his shoulder (he wasn’t really the type to carry a manpurse or shoulder bag) and crossed one leg over the other. Slowly he pulled out a sketch pad and pen and lowered his sunglasses from his eyes so he could see the paper clearly.

The best way to find something is to know what you want to look for first, then fate will bring it to you, he thought to himself as he began to draw. A smile etched itself onto his lips as the pen soared easily across the blank page, filling it up with dark and swift lines of the girl he loved so much; her long dark hair, high and pink cheekbones, wide smile, lovely figure and everything else from her forehead to her toes. The outfit filled itself out and he tried not to add too many details. He didn’t want to be disappointed if he couldn’t find exactly the right things nor did he want to run out of money.

When he finished, Ohno stood quickly wanting to waste no more time. Hurriedly he scrutinized each store, every clothes rack, on each level of the mall and then back again. When he found something remotely similar, he put it on hold and wound his way back around, up and down, before he had every piece he needed. He even bought her a pair of shoes seeing as they were on sale. After a long while and much searching, he finally had everything he wanted. A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he slunk out of the mall as it was getting ready to close and onto the streets.

Bag on his wrist, hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans (god they were uncomfortable, a thirty year old shouldn’t be wearing things like this), he shuffled to the train station and home.

—

A week later on the 17th of July, Ohno stood in front of Kimmie’s house. They didn’t see each other too often due to his work, but he always tried to be off for her at least once a month (unless they were doing a concert, that was hard to get away from). He took a deep breath, bag in hand, and pulled out his spare key.

As soon as the door was unlocked he rushed into her bedroom. Good, she wasn’t home yet. This time, he would surprise her in her own house. The last time wasn’t fair, the time she had come back for him. He was so happy that she had decided to stay. Sly smile plastered to his face (and Ohno wasn’t usually the sly type) he placed the clothes in a neatly folded pile on her bed with a note on top.

Very quietly even though no one was home, he snuck into her closet and waited. She would he home soon. It was already late and she wasn’t drinking, just out with friends. He was surprised she hadn’t made him go out with her, but that was a good thing considering.

—

About 20 minutes later Ohno heard the click of Kimmie’s door closing and woke up from his light snooze with a start. He peeked out through the closet, knowing she would be eying the clothes predatorily when she saw them, only hoping she would notice his letter too. She picked up the letter before looking at anything else.

Ohno waited, sweat rolling down his cheek. Even for him, this was really nerve wracking. But when he saw her smile softly and put the note down, his head immediately shot up. She was about to change into her new clothes for him. She picked up the first piece and Ohno turned away abashedly. Not that he hadn’t seen her naked before, he just couldn’t take watching her get undressed in private.

When he was sure she was fully changed he looked at her and she stole his breath away. Her hair was still messy from the night, but in that sexy way where it all fell everywhere perfectly and beautifully. There was the silver necklace he’d bought for her, thin and tiny but gorgeous all the same around her slender neck. The little black, silk dress he’d found hugged her hips like a wonderful dream, showing off all of her curves and motions. The tights snaked up her legs and the black dress let them caress everything he couldn’t yet touch. And those shoes, they made her legs look longer and slimmer and lifted her up so that she was maybe even taller than him.

But he only got to see her in the shoes for a second because she cocked her head and took them off before turning off the light and curling up on her bed, like he’d told her to. Ohno knew she wouldn’t really be surprised to see him, he’d written it in the letter that’d he’d be there, but he was excited anyway as he snuck out of the closet to climb over her.

His face positioned above hers she looked straight up at him with a shining smile on her lips. “How do I look?” She questioned as if she didn’t already know the answer.

Ohno leaned down and pressed his lips gently to hers, falling into the kiss swiftly. When he released her lips she was panting and he was grinning. “Happy birthday, Kimmie-chan. Now, can I take those off already?” And Kimmie laughed and let him to as he pleased, seeing as he’d gone through so much trouble for her.

Day 00:

Aiba felt the tightness in his chest before the filming was over. The sheen of sweat on his face lingered heavier than usual, his eyes blurring in and out of focus. Yet he had to smile because it was his work, his job.

As the filming ends, his smile falls and he collapses into a chair, exhausted. When asked what is wrong he explains in a slow, un-cheerful voice that his chest hurts and has been hurting for the duration of filming. While being scolded thoroughly, the young man is rushed to the hospital to care for his collapsing lung.

Day 01:

The panic settles deep in his chest even as the pain disappears. He has to miss work. I have to miss work, again, he thinks. Frustrated tears cloud over his tired eyes and he can’t sleep. His band-mates already reassured him through mails that morning, everyone in the hospital reassured him (he can’t work and put himself in more danger), but he can’t comprehend it yet. This is what he did not want to happen most of all. As he e-mails Ogura-san, staring at the wall beside his hospital bed he thinks, I need to be much stronger than this.

Day 02:

Listless, Aiba walks around the hospital. He cannot stay in bed for any longer or he’ll go insane, he knows it. He can’t do this. He can’t stay here for a week, even though a week consists of 5 days to them. It’s too much. He’ll be missing too much.

A hand catches his arm just as he coughs lightly into his fist. Sho is standing behind him, looking at him with those warm eyes of his. “Let’s go back to your room, Aiba-san. You need to rest more.” A tight smile flits across Aiba’s lips but he obeys Sho.

Day 03:

Today, Nino’s here to see him. He’s showing Aiba magic tricks that he only learned just recently. Aiba didn’t even know that Nino was still practicing, but he’s glad to find he is.

“We have rehearsal tonight and tomorrow,” Nino states bluntly, a sly smirk on his face as he concentrates on the cards. “But we’ve postponed anything else that has to go on live TV. We can’t do it without you.”

Aiba is tempted to say sorry, his stomach twisting in pleasure and guilt but Nino stops him with a sharp glance. “We just need you to get better.”

Day 04:

No one comes today, but Aiba understands. He messages them all with no hope for responses. Smiling softly, he tucks his phone away and lies down for a nap. Minutes later, he is awoken by buzzing that can only be his phone. Groggily he pulls it out and sees that both Ohno and Jun have replied.

Let’s go fishing together when you’re better –Ohno.

Are you resting? We’re all waiting for you –Matsujun.

Tears swell behind Aiba’s eyes and he hides his head in his pillow. The warmth and happiness he receives is almost enough to wash away his guilt.

Day 05:

Tomorrow, Aiba can go back to work. That’s all he thinks about as he paces around the room. The nurses give him worried looks, but tell him he’s stable and first thing tomorrow, he can leave. Tomorrow he’ll be filming for VSA. Aiba thinks up ways to tell the audience, Arashi, everyone watching, that he’s sorry for missing so many days, that he’s better.

But he’s lost weight and he hasn’t been able to sleep. He may be medically stable, but it will be a long way until he is fully recovered enough to make everyone else fully believe him.

Day 06:

In the green room Nino fawns over him. But Aiba is used to this. Everyone cares for him, but Nino has been with him forever. He’s been calling him stupid. He’s been telling to just get healthy. And Aiba laughs because it’s good to be back, good to be busy. Those days in the hospital were worse than the hours of chest pain. He has a lot of apologies to make, a lot more to be careful of, but he knows he can do it. So long as he has his Arashi to return to. It’s good to be back.

This has been happening for a few months, seeing that figure in his mirror. He has actually gone to the shrink for it because isn’t it odd to see the figure of your deceased lover in your mirror? And only the one in your room? The shrink prescribed him meds but they had done nothing. After a month, Jun had gotten rid of every mirror in his house, but then it became lonely not seeing that familiar figure, and frankly Jun liked to look good whenever he went out. Less than a month later, he had all his mirrors back in his house and in his room.

Now, staring at the figure in the mirror, Jun wills him to turn his head around. It isn’t fair that he is only allowed to see his back, the nape of his neck that he had kissed so often in the past and that he knows sends enticing shivers down his spine. It isn’t fair that he isn’t allowed to touch that figure, but just knowing that he is still there is somewhat of a relief. Other than the shrink, Jun has told no one of this little strangeness, although he knows others miss his lover, too. But who would believe him, anyway? It is most likely a figment of his imagination, a figment of his stress. Work is hard, and even more difficult now that he doesn’t have the one person he loved to share his life with. Life is hard. Everything is hard.

Jun falls back against the sheets, arms covering his eyes that are tearing up even though no one can see. It has been a year, a year and a half to be exact, and somehow he has gotten through the empty house, the empty life, the empty months, without the person who matters most to him in his life. To be quite honest, though he dares not tell the shrink he is forced to see every month (and whom he’s been lying to ever since he put the mirrors back into his room), seeing that figure in his mirror makes his life a little easier to live. It makes him believe that maybe, even though it is vague, his lover still remains with him somewhere in this life.

He removes his arm from his eyes to stare up at his white ceiling. Clear tears unlock themselves from behind his eyes to trace a sparkling line down his pale cheeks. Recently, he’s been crying a lot more than usual. That figure who haunts him in a way that’s not really haunting triggered them. Because even though his heart had dropped, twisted, and seemed to disappear when the news of the crash had reached his ears, he hadn’t cried. The tears had taken refuge behind his eyes. They hadn’t dared to show at the funeral, with all the other crying people who had loved the deceased, too. None blame Jun, but Jun blames himself. Who wouldn’t? Only when Ohno Satoshi started appearing in his mirror did the tears finally fall, as they now do every night.

As he stares up at the ceiling, Jun starts to talk. He doesn’t do this very often, because it makes him feel stupid,but it brings him closer to Ohno and he likes that. The words tumble out of his mouth after a hesitant start and the tears begin their trek down his cheeks. Faster and faster they flow until his words are muffled and he has to sit up for fear of choking on his own voice.

On the edge of the bed he leans forward, head in his hands, fingers scraping against the smooth skin of his forehead. “Why?” He whispers in that watery, weak voice that he has begun to despise. “Why?” He asks again, louder. It doesn’t make sense at all. “Why, of all people, did you have to leave me?” His muscles tense as he leans over his body, gripping his head so tight that it hurts. Because it’s not fair. If everything is supposed to happen for a reason, then why did this have to? There is no reason that Ohno shouldn’t be at his side right now, leaning into him in that way that Jun doesn’t like but misses so incredibly much his heart could burst.

As even more tears leak from his closed eyes, the words disappear from his lips once again. There are times like this when he can’t speak; anything he wants to voice is cut off in the middle of his throat. It happens so often that he can’t help but be used to it.

The room is silent while more tears fall. How can someone have so many tears to cry, he thinks, because even after six months he hasn’t stopped crying every night while looking into that accursed mirror. Once again, he steals himself by looking up. Just to see that person he misses so much. And as he does, he jerks back in surprise because there is Ohno looking at him, through the mirror, on his bed, with swirling brown eyes full to the brim with melancholy.

Jun stares, the tears stopping as abruptly as his voice, and his hands begin to shake. Suddenly, his voice is back. “Ohno?” He whispers. Barely audible. A tiny smile flits across Ohno’s lips and he nods, moving closer to Jun. Through the mirror Jun watches as Ohno leans forward to put a hand on his shoulder and he swears he can feel the pressure there. Warmth spreads from where Ohno’s hand seems to be touching him and Jun is tempted to turn around, but know he will just disappear when he stops looking in the mirror.

“You’re here?” His voice is stronger now, almost crazed. He raises one of his shaking hands to where Ohno’s rests on his shoulder but Ohno shifts in that same movement, hugging Jun around the shoulder from behind and this time it’s his breath that is taken away. Jun can definitely feel him there. He can feel him there even if when he looks down to try to see those slender hands clasped around his neck he can’t see them.

Looking back to the mirror Jun isn’t shocked to see that Ohno’s face is buried into his neck, because he can feel those soft, dyed hairs tickling the sensitive skin. His stomach is churning now. Churning not with sickness but with something that he hasn’t experienced for a year and a half. “Jun-kun.” The familiar voice trickles into his hearing, cascading down his spine and rendering him still, useless. “Jun-kun,” Ohno says again, his invisible breath hot against his neck and wet with his own palpable sadness. “Don’t cry, please.” And this is where the tears start again, Jun thinks bitterly as they trail down his cheeks. He must be crazy to believe that he can see, hear, and feel Ohno beside him, but he doesn’t really care anymore.

In a swift movement he turns around, grabbing onto Ohno’s back and falling on top of him into the bed sheets. He buries his face in the warmth of Ohno’s neck and once again, like old times, the two are clinging to each other. Jun has his eyes closed; almost afraid to open them because he knows that once he does, the illusion of Ohno being underneath him will falter and disappear into a million little invisible pieces. The plain, relieving, truth is that Jun can feel him and see him if he looks into the mirror and that’s all that matters.

Yet he still keeps his eyes closed, pressed flush against the collar of Ohno’s shirt as the tears dry on it. The warmth and pressure of the body beneath him is unmistakable. Soft fingers press into his back, travel down its length, and climb under his shirt, searching for the flesh that hasn’t been touched for so long. A tiny gasp escapes Jun at the light touch; he hasn’t let anyone put their hands on him in a long time. “Jun,” Ohno whispers again and wiggles his hips beneath him.

Jun’s eyes shoot open and the illusion is shattered but he can’t help the heat that snakes through his body. “Jun,” Ohno says again, though this time it’s more like a whine. Jun lifts himself up, the invisible touch of Ohno’s hands slipping from his back as he positions himself above where there seems to be the form of a person embedded into the sheets. Slowly, he turns his head toward the mirror and Ohno meets his eyes in it. Another shock courses through him and Ohno stares at him. He reaches under Jun’s shirt again, slipping it over his head, leaving his torso naked. And Jun knows. He knows that he can’t really just be imagining having Ohno there because then how would his shirt have fallen off of him?

He rears back and balances himself on his knees, completely removing his t-shirt from his skin. He can’t see Ohno beneath him, but he can hear him muttering his name over and over again and he can feel him squirming between his legs. To be honest, for Jun, that’s almost enough. Almost.

He doesn’t know how he can get so aroused in a situation like this when he can’t even see his lover, but the second he feels Ohno’s dexterous hands on the zipper of his jeans his knees start to wobble. For them, seeing was never really the most important thing anyway. Jun realizes that he forgot that in the past year and a half.

Nonetheless, his eyes wander back to the mirror again so he can see as well as feel what Ohno is doing to him, what he always seemed to be doing to him. His jeans are slipped down to his thighs and the lingering presence of Ohno’s hands caresses the exposed porcelain skin, making Jun sigh with nostalgia. Ohno’s hands trail across the skin and in the matter of a second, Jun is flipped onto his back with immense pressure on his middle. Surprised, but used to it, Jun searches blindly for Ohno’s body and finds that he too has removed his shirt and this time the images appear in Jun’s head rather than the mirror. He can see the dark, sun-glazed skin and toned, rippling muscles beneath his fingers.

And finally, finally, those lips are on his own, gentle at first, as if they think Jun will change his mind and run away, but he doesn’t. He sighs into the kiss and wraps his arms around the neck he can’t see with his own eyes and kisses back. Ohno’s hands clench on his stomach and then travel up and down, exploring the body that he hasn’t touched in so long. Their kiss deepens, but they never fight for dominance, which makes it all that more erotic for Jun. To have Ohno’s lips against his, his tongue caressing his own, is a sense of bliss that he couldn’t have remembered without this experience.

Ohno’s mouth leaves his and attaches to his neck, suckling and licking at every inch of skin he can reach. Jun’s breath hitches and his body tenses as he throws his head back, offering his neck for the older man to devour. His heart is pounding, his head too, and the flow of adrenaline is more than he’s had in so long. Ohno’s lips continue down his neck to his chest to attach to one of Jun’s nipples. Immediately Jun feels the heat rush to his stomach and he arches his hips up, demanding more attention, but Ohno avoids this touch. Jun bites his lip and whimpers, “Evil,” because Ohno knows that Jun’s nipples are most sensitive. Jun can’t see, but as Ohno lifts his head to move onto the other nipple Jun can imagine the smirk as the hot breath brushes his skin, sending sparks rushing through his body.

Oh and this is definitely real, because Jun’s hands are raised, tired around Ohno’s neck as he grinds up into air, hoping for friction Ohno won’t give him. His head is thrown to the side and every now and then during Ohno’s little attack on his nipples, he lets a pathetic whimper escape between the lips he’s biting so hard. In a moment Jun’s hands don’t reach Ohno’s neck because his head has already traveled down to his belly, kissing the skin red as he removes Jun’s pants, his boxers.

Jun peers into the mirror because he wants to see what’s coming next. Ohno looks at him and a shock courses through his chest as he sees those eyes with their pupils dilated in obvious lust. Jun’s hands convulse around the bed sheets and he forces his eyes to stay open as Ohno presses his lips to the head of Jun’s cock. It’s almost too much for Jun to take, and everything Ohno’s mouth is doing; kissing, licking, sucking, somehow getting past his intense gag reflex; is bringing him closer to the edge, so close he can hardly breathe.

That is until Jun can’t take it because those lips are for kissing, first and foremost. He never liked to dirty them for long, and he still doesn’t. Desperately, he drags Ohno away from his lower half, although he almost immediately regrets losing that slick warmth around him, and kisses the taste of precum from Ohno’s sweet lips. Making sure Ohno doesn’t stop kissing him by biting his lower lip, Jun trails his hands down Ohno’s warm and bare back to his pants. He can’t see, but he can feel where the zipper for his jeans is. Ohno begins to tremble as Jun pulls the zipper down and then slips his pants off, throwing them on the floor to be forgotten and invisible forever. Slowly, cautiously, because his heart is pounding as if it’s their first time again, Jun takes Ohno’s length in his hand. Ohno lifts his head, panting as Jun tests his remembrance of the hot, hard member in his hand. Ohno’s panting, breathing in his ear as Jun pumps him up and down at a pace that he knows must be unbearable.

Apparently, it becomes too much for Ohno fast, for he pushes Jun’s hands away with a groan and quickly takes hold of Jun’s cock, stroking it slowly with one hand as the other prepares to ready Jun. He gulps, nervous, yet high on the sensations at the same time. Ohno’s hand most definitely looks lovely as it strokes him, but any thoughts he has are lost when one of Ohno’s fingers enter him. At this point, Jun’s senses are so high strung that he can’t hold back any of his moans anymore and a stream of profanities fly from his mouth as he squirms in pleasure and slight discomfort.

A second finger enters and Jun whimpers out pleas for more friction while Ohno scissors him, his lazy eyes most definitely crinklink at the edges in a pleased smirk. “Please,” Jun whimpers, tears clouding his eyes and he mentally curses himself.

“Please what?” Ohno’s smooth, mumbled voice flutters into his ear in an invisible breath of air and Jun gasps because there was no way he could have seen that coming.

“You know,” Jun groans the words, thrusting back to meet Ohno’s fingers.

Ohno’s face is still next to his. Jun shivers when his lips craze his earlobe, his tongue licking the soft edges. “You want me to fuck you raw?” he asks, his voice heavy and rough with lust.

“At this point I don’t even care,” Jun snaps back, temper flaring as it used to. His breath is short, his heart pounding, anxious to feel the release he hasn’t in years. Ohno smirks against his ear and breathes out a laugh that manages to infuriate Jun even more. But he pulls out his fingers just as the warmth of his breath disappears and Jun whines at the losses.

Yet, he isn’t at a loss for long because the head of Ohno’s cock presses against his ass and in one fluid, quick movement, Ohno slips inside. Jun’s back arches, a silent yelp of surprise and pain dying on his lips. Ohno doesn’t move until Jun calms down because his body is tense and tingling with an intense mix of pain and please, but both spur him into full longing. His hands grip at Ohno’s slick chest and he knows that he must smell from all the sweat but he doesn’t care. The second his muscles relax, Ohno begins moving. Like always he is good. He’s hitting that spot inside Jun from the first thrust over and over. Ohno’s grunting above him and he surprises Jun again by grabbing his cock and stroking it in time to his swirling thrusts. Jun pants out Ohno’s name and turns his head to the mirror again because he wants to see this. Too soon after Ohno has Jun in his hand, Jun can feel the end coming and so can Ohno, obviously, because is face contorts in the mirror and his thrusts become more sporadic, but no less fulfilling.

The tightness in Jun’s stomach and the pleasure and rolling waves of heat that are coursing through his body are becoming too much for him. “S-Satoshi,” he whimpers, scratching Ohno’s shoulders, curling up to meet him but keeping an eye on the mirror. Ohno turns to meet his eyes and smiles a sort of sad smile which sends Jun over the edge. He cries out as he releases into Jun’s hand, his vision going blank. Ohno continues to ride him through his orgasm until he’s coming as well. The uncomfortable warmth of Ohno’s cum inside of him eventually disappears, for he pulls out not soon after, falling on top of Jun, both of them panting in relief and exhaustion.

Jun is the one who gets up to clean them off. He stares into the mirror as he does his work because he wants Ohno to be clean, too. Without knowing why, he knows that after this, after this night, he won’t get the chance to see Ohno like this again. The thought makes him sad, but there is a sense of peace that he can’t explain alongside that sadness. He curls up in his bed, eyes dropping as he looks at Ohno through that mirror. Ohno who is stroking his hair and kissing his cheek, telling him that it’s time for him to finally get a good night sleep. And he does, with Ohno at his side, even though he knows that he won’t see Ohno the next morning or ever again. Not even through that mirror.

Everyday Nino went over to Ohno’s house after school. Rarely, for that first year, did they venture to Nino’s own place, though Nino never really knew why. His place was much nicer and much more spacious, but maybe that’s why Ohno’s was the ideal place to be. It was cozy, warm, and familiar and Nino enjoyed being in it more than his own house (despite the fact that it was full of all his favorite games).

Ohno wasn’t one much for games, but whenever Nino brought Mario Kart over, he’d gladly play, and lose, with him. Ohno was a subtle character and that’s what drew Nino to him in the first place. They met the first year of college, well Nino’s anyway, and proceeded from there. Somehow their compatibility lead them to being together every day on campus and every night at Ohno’s house. They shared completely different majors and there was no chance of Ohno finishing his anytime soon, which only meant that Nino had more time to spend with him.

Ohno was (usually) quiet and kind, warm hearted with the things he cared about and he cared much about Nino. Other than Nino, he cared about art, and fishing. Fishing was the only thing that Nino refused to do with him and of course, Ohno understood. He couldn’t help if Nino got motion sickness easier than most people. They didn’t go out to eat or to karaoke like most friends did, but Nino was over at his house so often that if they had gone out, neither would have known what to do. Ohno was lenient towards Nino and let him do whatever he wanted, even if a lot of it was borderline sexual harassment.

After that first year, they were already much closer than normal friends. Most people said that they looked like brothers and Ohno always chuckled, readjusting his bag on his shoulder with a mumbled “really?” while somehow the thought irritated Nino and made him shift his feet in disagreement. But if Ohno ever noticed Nino’s discomfort with being called “like-brothers” he didn’t show it and somehow that irritated Nino even more.

He didn’t tell him though, not really. The first time that Ohno came over to Nino’s house was the first time he admitted anything to himself and Ohno and Ohno didn’t really seem to mind when Nino leaned over him with a smirk on his thin lips. Ohno only smiled and tilted his head up to meet Nino’s. Surprised, Nino had almost regretted roughly shoving the older, but smaller, man up against his wall. However, those thoughts had been completely washed away when Ohno’s warm hands hand raised his shirt over his head and plunged down in his pants. Actually, those hands could make Nino forget anything; when he was drawing, Nino could watch them for hours without even thinking about the new game sitting on his bed at home. But when those hands were touching him it was even worse and they made Nino’s breath hot, his mind fuzzed, and his stomach clench in warning. Ohno’s actions always spoke a lot louder and clearer than his mumbled, rare words.

That first night was only touching though. Nino was surprisingly nervous, yes, but Ohno was the worst tease ever, always. “School tomorrow,” he would say with a smirk, removing his hands from Nino’s body and leaving to catch the train home when he knew if Nino had been at his house, he would have just slept over. Nino also knew that Ohno didn’t really care about school.

They continued to see each other every night and it was another year later, two years into their relationship that Nino finally got Ohno onto the bed. He never regretted that night, even though it hurt like hell. Ohno could move his hips as though he was the world’s best dancer, Nino often thought, though Ohno had claimed to never have danced in his life. Now they weren’t like brothers anymore. They were closer than that, like lovers. And as Ohno dressed, ready to leave (because for some reason he never, ever stayed at Nino’s house, though Nino couldn’t say he minded) he told Nino “see you tomorrow,” with a warm smile and a peck on the lips and a wave as Nino watched him leave from the doorway, scratching his bare leg with his foot.

At that time neither of them knew that three years later that tomorrow wouldn’t come for another four years.

The night of the 16th, Nino expected nothing different, but instead of just sitting at home when the clock turned midnight, he decided to actually go out. He’d gotten his pay check just a week ago and earlier in the day had decided that he’d treat himself to dinner for he had to work on the actual day of his birth (though he didn’t really mind). In his fridge was a cake he bought from the nearby bakery and a one-pack of his beer to down while he was up all night playing games- he had the whole thing planned. Though he knew he would feel like the ultimate piece of crap for work, he figured it would be more fun than just sleeping around his house all day.

Clad in a plaid purple flannel, jeans, and nice new Adidas, Nino found himself walking along the streets of Shinjuku for at least a nice place to spend his paycheck. The night was warm and made him sticky beneath his clothes, but he paid no mind for it was clear and calm. People loitered in the streets, smoking, selling porn and illegal magazines along with cheap manga and personalized items. Shinjuku wasn’t as dark as some places, but there was no doubt that it could get pretty messy. Nino turned the other way.

Heading along another street, Nino came across a restaurant he’d never entered before. A simple Chinese restaurant, so it seemed. It didn’t look to be too extremely overpriced so he shrugged and pushed open the door, a bell clanging as he entered.

Hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched inward, Nino was ushered by a pretty waitress to the only empty table in the whole restaurant and had a menu placed in front of him. He flashed a bright smile at the girl who blushed and scuttled away nervously. Nino chuckled, sitting back in his chair and skimming the menu over. It had been a while since he’d been out to a restaurant for something other than a drinking party with colleagues.

After ordering a simple gyoza dish with a soup and fried rice, Nino pulled out his phone and started to play one of his aps. Boring, he thought, so boring. He grimaced, wondering why he had to come and sit in a packed restaurant all by himself. It’s not like he had anyone to talk to while he waited for his food, and he presumed that it might be a while due to the amount of customers.

Sighing, Nino sat back, deciding to people watch in his spare time. Normally, he was against it because people weren’t really his thing, but today was an exception and he wanted to entertain himself as much as he could. There was a couple over there playing footsie under the table while the guy was obviously checking the girl at the other table out… and oh they were exchanging numbers via wifi. Nino laughed through his nose, grinning into his hands. That poor girl… she didn’t know a thing.

Just as he was about to shift his eyes from that table to another, his vision was blocked by a figure in the restaurant’s attire. Slightly annoyed, Nino looked up only to find himself staring into the brown eyes of a familiar, smiling round face. Nino blanched, surprised as the sleepy-eyed male sat down across from him, leaning back in the chair much the same way Nino was.

Cocking his head to the side, smiling, he said in a mumbling voice, “Kazunari Ninomiya-san. It’s been a long time.” For a few seconds, Nino just stared. It had been so long since he’d seen Satoshi Ohno. Four years to be exact, and he only looked younger. Confused, Nino tried to compose his face into one of mocking expressionlessness.

“What brings you here?” He asked instead of replying to Ohno’s original statement. Frankly, it was what he was more concerned about. Including the fact that he was wearing the restaurant’s attire. The last time Nino had met up with his old colleague, he had been working only part time at a gas station and living in a nasty little hotel. For that reason, most of their nights had been spent in Nino’s small but clean condo.

Ohno’s answer made Nino wince. He’d been expecting it, but still… “I work here,” he answered. “Actually, it’s my restaurant.” Ohno grinned sheepishly and then stood as gracefully as he always had, his artist fingers resting gently on the table to help himself up. “It’s on the house tonight, and if you’re free I would appreciate it if you waited for maybe an hour after you finish eating. I’d like to talk to you more.” Despite the nostalgia of Ohno’s soft and comforting voice it was different somehow. Ohno had to be at least thirty right now, if Nino was turning 28… yes he was thirty now and almost 31. Four years was a long time to wait to see someone you used to spend so much time with.

Nino got his meal and ate it in silence. Unable to finish the large amount he’d ordered, he packaged up the leftovers. The check never came, because Ohno had said it was on the house. Nino waited for an hour after he finished and Ohno came out from the back, dressed in clothes that Nino remembered all too well. His style, at least, hadn’t changed much. Aside from him owning the restaurant, only his hair and weight seemed to have changed. He was skinnier with dirty blonde, nearly brown hair sticking up in much the same way it always had.

Ohno offered a lazy smile when he noticed Nino still sitting and waiting for him, eyes brightening as if nothing had changed in four years. Nino stood and the two left together, walking in the warm night. “Is it okay for you to leave your restaurant?” Nino asked out of pure curiosity, hands shoved in his pockets, leftovers hanging from his wrist.

Ohno nodded, offering no more explanation than that and continued to lead Nino to a car, one Nino did not recognize. When he knew Ohno, the man hadn’t even tried to drive. “You’ll come over tonight, right?” Nino hesitated, a protest on the tip of his tongue. But he had never been able to resist those droopy, puppy-dog like eyes and he wasn’t able to now, either. With a sigh, thinking of his games laid out on the ground, the cold beer in his fridge, Nino climbed into the passenger side of the car.

“Since when could you drive?” He asked with an uninterested tone, though he was very interested. What had happened since the last time they’d met?

“Since three years ago,” Ohno replied, sending a sideways glance towards Nino as he started up the car. “Do you still have your little blue car?” Nino nodded and stared out the window. Was Ohno the only one who had changed? He looked different, held himself different, though it wasn’t really noticeable, and had a completely different job. Nino, on the other hand, was living in the same place, had the same things, liked the same things, and hadn’t been in a relationship since then. Had Ohno?

The ride to Ohno’s apartment was a quiet one. Nino mentioned once that he needed to go to work in the morning but Ohno merely remained silent, a knowing smile on those thin lips of his. He knew if he asked, Nino would stay over and call in sick for work. He knew it as though four years hadn’t passed and that bothered Nino, too.

Once they reached the complex Nino was reluctant to leave the car. He almost wanted to ask Ohno to bring him home, or at least to the station. With a look at his cell, he realized that in a few minutes, it would be too late to do so. Reluctantly, he gave up seeing as Ohno wouldn’t let him anyway.

Silently still, he followed Ohno up to his apartment. The complex was big, fancier than any place the two had ever been together seeing as they were both just starting life out of college then. Nino couldn’t help but look around in awe, sure to keep any expression from showing on his face, though.

“You live here now?” He asked nonchalantly.

“For a year now,” Ohno answered as they stepped in the elevator. “I like it here, it’s nice and I have a room I can use for all my artwork.”

Nino smiled. So he still did his artwork. “That’s good,” he whispered, leaning back against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Ohno’s room was on the tenth floor, the top. Which would have to mean he had the largest room in the whole complex. Well, that would make sense, Nino thought, he manages a restaurant now.

Ohno unlocked his room, letting Nino in. Without looking around, Nino threw off his shoes and ambled into the room that held a couch, falling onto it and throwing his arm over his shoulder. Ohno picked up the leftovers that slid to the floor and brought it to the fridge in the connecting room. Peeking through an opening under his arm, Nino wondered since when Ohno had been so responsible. He closed his eyes as he felt Ohno sink into the couch beside him.

“Nothing’s changed, huh Nino,” he mumbled in that melodic voice of his. Nino glared at him from under his arm.

“Is that some sort of joke?” Ohno only shrugged, lips turning into a small grin, eyes crinkling happily at the edges. He leaned over Nino and pressed his lips gently to Nino’s barely visible ones. Heat flooded through Nino’s chest at the touch and Ohno leaned away, head turned to the opposite side. Nino had no idea what had gone on since they had seen each other last. He had no idea if anything about Ohno had changed other than his appearance, but he knew that Ohno’s lips felt the same. And the way Ohno made him feel was the same too.

Slowly, he sat up, looping his arms around Ohno’s neck, like he used to. Ohno didn’t turn to look at him, but Nino smirked at the smile tugging at his lips. Nino nuzzled his ear, breathing gently into it and Ohno turned around, pressing him gently into the couch.

“I’m not teasing,” Ohno whispered, looking at Nino through his eyelashes. “I’m only glad you’re not that different since the last time I saw you.” Nino cocked his head, arms still around Ohno’s neck, and leaned up to kiss him again, letting his tongue flick against those soft lips, loving the sharp intake of breath from Ohno as he did so.

“You’re one to talk, Manager-san.” Even if it was mere coincidence, Nino was happy to be back in Ohno’s arms. Everything felt normal, comfortable, and warm. He could easily lose himself in that voice, those eyes, and Ohno’s musky smell of paint and resin. That, he realized as he buried his face into Ohno’s neck, hadn’t changed at all.

Ohno glanced at his watch quickly and then turned his head so it bumped gently against Nino’s. “Happy birthday, Nino,” he whispered with a pleased sigh as Nino pressed his lips to the warm skin of his neck. “Happy birthday.” Tears blurred at the edge of Nino’s vision. It had been four years since he’d been with someone else for his birthday. He hadn’t wanted to spend it with anyone else. He didn’t know why, what had happened, what had brought them together again, but he was glad to be able to spend it with Ohno again after all that time. Even if he was going to have to skip work in the morning, he realized with a gleeful giggle as Ohno’s hot hand snaked up his flannel to press flat against his chest.

——
“Sho-chan,” Aiba whined. “I need you.” Sho sighed, staring at the math homework in Aiba’s hands.

“Fine,” he relented, uncrossing his arms. “I’ll help you just this once.”

Except ‘just this once’ had turned into every time. Every time Aiba was lost with work, Sho would help him. Every time he didn’t understand, didn’t know what to do, didn’t know a question or even a whole worksheet, Sho was there to help him. Every time Sho would say ‘just this once’ or ‘this is the last time, you need to do it yourself sometime,’ it would turn out that there was always another. Every time Aiba got the same response, he would smile, his eyes sparkling as if he knew something Sho didn’t, and Sho would always wonder what it was.

Sho never asked for anything in return for his services, because each time was supposedly ‘the last time.’ It never was though. And after months and months, even though he would say the same few words, he knew he would never stop helping the needy Aiba.

The “I need you, Sho-chan,” for helping out at his family’s restaurant didn’t stop. It grew to include his other part time job, to hanging out with him and his friends and Sho would never refuse. He went to goukons with Aiba, to the movies when he had an extra ticket, ice skating, to the zoo, everywhere because Aiba ‘needed’ him. He figured that as long as Aiba needed him, he’d be happy to oblige.

But then the ‘needing’ started to get even more absurd, even moreso than “Sho-chan, I need you to help me smuggle in the squirrel to school.” It turned into “Sho-chan, I need you to give me a hug,” when nothing was wrong, “Sho-chan, I need you to hold my hand,” when nothing was frightening, though Aiba was quite the scaredy cat.

By then Sho had started to get suspicious and although they only hung out the two of them together (aside from the ‘I need you’ incidents), they only ever did things that Aiba needed. It was never “Sho-chan, let’s watch this movie!” but “Sho-chan I need to watch this movie for school.” Using Sho to satisfy his needs had become a habit for Aiba and Sho had allowed it to happen.

Still, things progressed. From the hand holding to gentle kisses on the lips. It was then that Sho realized that he needed Aiba too, sometimes. And that Aiba’s neediness had been somewhat of a cover. He knew Sho was too nice to say no, those bright, sparkling eyes said so. The nights at Sho’s house parentless that used to be filled with worksheets and problems turned into nights filled with kisses and groans. The times that Aiba didn’t ask for him, the times Aiba didn’t say he needed him, Sho would know he did or he would feel his own need for Aiba. He would call him and say “Aiba-san, I need you to come over tonight,” for no reason other than to see the other male.

The demands from Aiba for, “I need a kiss, Sho-chan. A deep, dark one,” became less voiced and more obvious, because they were things that Sho began to need, too. The nights grew more frequent, as Sho’s parents were rarely home to watch over them or to hear. Sho could get Aiba to groan his name as though the world would end if he didn’t and Aiba could get Sho breathless in a matter of seconds with his skilled hands; and it was everything they needed.

From that point, the voiced needs began to come less and less. They went to college, separate ways but saw each other when they knew the other needed. Soon, their relationship became one more based on talking, going out, and just being together than any absurd ‘need’ or excuse and it stopped all together.

That is, until one day when Aiba pulled Sho into his naked arms, kissing his nose and snuggling his neck and said, “I need you to always be with me, Sho-chan” and knew without Sho having to say that he would oblige happily.