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ninoexchange2020-06-24 05:56 am
nino_mod) wrote in ninoexchange2020-06-24 05:56 am
Entry tags:
fic for maaitaiyou!
For: maaitaiyou
From: :3.
Title: Forget-me-not
Pairing/Focus: Sakumiya
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~5k
Warnings: None
Summary: Sho never thought he’d see Nino again, but now that he’s back, Sho recruits the help of his friends to keep him there.
Notes: Hello! I was struck by your “long lost lovers” prompt and some other elements from your sign-up, and while this isn’t quite any of the above, I hope you like it. Thanks to the usual folks, and to ten years of Nino Exchange!
Sho’s only been there for forty minutes but he’s already tired, having greeted and smiled pleasantly at every friend-of-the-family and peripheral acquaintance in existence, somehow all gathered together in the enormous foyer of the Matsumoto estate. He supposes he should be used to it at this point, after a lifetime of accompanying his Very Social parents on their tireless search for a Very Viable daughter-in-law. But even now that he’s on his own and coming to these affairs of his own volition, there’s only so much rich people posturing that he can take.
Matsumoto is much better at it, holding a glass of champagne loosely in his hand as he sways from one cluster of beautiful people to the next, until he stops in front of Sho and his smirk widens, his shoulders loosening slightly. “Done already, Sho-kun?”
Sho smiles wryly. “How could you tell?”
Matsumoto simply shrugs. “You seem done.” He takes a sip. “I’m sorry we don’t have any real drinks. You know how these things go.”
Sho tilts his head in acknowledgment. He knows. “Honestly, I’d stop coming altogether, but despite the circumstances, there are some decent folks in the lot.”
Matsumoto gives him his 3am-and-drunk-on-cheap-wine grin, the one that reminds him that sometimes, very rarely, people from humble beginnings really do manage to get their happy endings just from hard work. He’s still not quite clear on what “egg business” Matsumoto’s father made it big in, but he’s glad to have a genuine Friend in a room full of Connections.
“You want to hang out in the garden later?” Matsumoto offers, waving a perfectly manicured hand toward a side door. “I still have some people I need to say hello to, but you can go and catch a breather now. I’ll meet you out there soon.”
“That sounds excellent,” Sho responds, not bothering to cover up his sigh of relief. He lifts a hand to wave cheerfully as Matsumoto’s mother comes by, looking more like an auntie than a lady as she smiles an apology to Sho before taking Matsumoto away. Sho turns and heads toward the door.
“Oh, Kazu’s probably out there, so you can ask him where we keep the b-e-e-r!”
“That’s great, but who’s Kazu?” Sho turns back to receive an explanation, but Matsumoto’s already gone.
.
This is actually the first time the Matsumotos have hosted a gathering, and while he likes to think of Matsumoto as a friend, he’s still a rich friend whose family has earned the right to make rich rules about where other rich people can put their rich rears in their rich garden. So Sho stands awkwardly for a bit, stares at the grass, tweets a photo he took earlier of the beautiful hors d’oeuvres display (to his public rich person Twitter, of course), and looks back up to find a slim man staring at him.
“Oh!”
The man blinks rapidly and his shoulders twitch upward, as if he’s the one who gets to be startled. He regains his composure and asks cautiously, “What are you doing in my garden?” And it’s his voice that brings Sho back.
“Oh.” Oh. That’s right. Ninomiya’s first name started with “Kazu”. Kazunari, or was it Kazuya? Kazuhito? Sho’s only half sure because he’d written it down as soon as he’d gotten home that night, but the characters on paper would fade along with his memories of that afternoon, smudged away until all that’s left is a certain warmth, a general feeling instead of a specific event.
But it’s a feeling he definitely knows, one that he’s searched for more than half his life now, and he’d thought he’d be ready but he absolutely is not when suddenly it hits him all over again.
Ninomiya stands still in front of him, eyes searching, waiting for a response.
“Oh! Sorry. Matsumoto-kun told me to wait out here. Said to ask you where the beer is.”
Ninomiya’s eyes are narrowed slightly, unreadable. “Do I know you?”
Does he not? Sho is suddenly hit with the very real possibility that he’s the only one who remembers that day. The warmth, that feeling of seeing Ninomiya again, drains slowly from his body, leaving him a little cold and empty instead.
“Sorry,” he manages to say. “I’m Sakurai Sho.” He watches the tightness thaw from Ninomiya’s face.
“Sakurai-san,” Ninomiya replies with a nod, seemingly more to himself than to Sho. “I’m Ninomiya Kazunari, and the beer is back there in my shed.”
***
Ninomiya is one of Matsumoto’s long-time friends – a real friend, from way before Matsumoto’s father’s business took off and their Venn diagram of social activity separated almost completely. Matsumoto is as good at making enemies as he is as making friends, which means that the majority of people who’ve met him in his new life keep him at a safe, cordial distance. The ones who dare to come in closer either get burned because they’re only there to get something out of him, or stick around because they, like Matsumoto, really just want a simple friendship with a simple dude, without the money attached.
Amid all of the change, Ninomiya has stuck around (Matsumoto has kept him around) because he’s never once used Matsumoto for his money or status. “I made him pay for my food way before they got rich,” he confides, and when Sho laughs in response, Ninomiya smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he puts his lips to the rim of his beer bottle. Sho’s laughter subsides a little, and he fails spectacularly at hiding the fact that he’s watching Ninomiya drink.
Over the course of the last hour, the warmth, that feeling, has swelled and waned, pulsed within him, and it sits comfortably now, somewhere deep in his chest. What was mere moments ago a heavy hopelessness about half a lifetime spent pining for a boy he met in the park, has now turned into a different kind of heaviness, glinting like steel will, blindingly bright.
Ninomiya may not remember that day, but Sho can’t really blame him. It was a chance meeting once, ages ago, and it’s pretty lame and embarrassing how quickly Sho fell for someone who would ultimately forget who he is.
But they’re adults now, and they get to choose how, and with whom, they spend their days.
Sho has all the time in the world to make sure Ninomiya remembers him this time.
***
Satoshi’s the kind of person who can’t stop giggling once he starts. He gets stuck on a small detail until it’s stretched to its limits, one tangent unfolding into endless possibilities. This is what makes his calligraphy so deep, Sho supposes, so fascinating to look at from every possible angle, but right now he’s being pretty fucking annoying when all Sho wants to do is figure out his plan of attack.
“Oh-chan, please, the man needs us,” Aiba says with a wide, gleeful smile that makes it clear he has no intention of doing anything to help.
“No, I get it, I’m so happy for you, man,” Satoshi says, waving his hand in the air as if to shoo the stray laughter away. “It’s not every day your Prince Charming comes back into your life after twenty years and he’s still single and, hot?” Sho nods seriously in confirmation. “But honestly, who says call me all seductively and actually means it?”
Sho. Sho does. “If we could get back on track, please,” he pleads, and Satoshi bobs his head, visibly swallowing the last of his giggles in order to help his childhood friend. Then, a snort escapes from his nose, and Sho has no choice but to smother him with a couch cushion.
***
Step 1,
according to Aiba, who is an expert because he borrowed a bunch of shoujo manga from his sister-in-law (for research), is to have Sho confirm his feelings. Maybe he’s stuck in the past, Aiba had explained, or on an idea that’s been percolating in his lonely, sex-starved brain for twenty years of who he wants Ninomiya to be instead of who he actually is.
Sho puts the cushion covers in the washing machine – they’d gotten so dirty after being used to smother both of his best friends – and sets them to wash and dry while he’s out.
It starts to rain, lukewarm and tentative, when the gates to the Matsumoto estate open for him, growing rapidly in confidence until he’s bonafide cold and wet by the time he gets to the front door. Matsumoto’s mother ushers him in and immediately starts patting him down with her handkerchief, this time very much her auntie self.
“Jun! Kazu-kun! Sho-kun is here to play!” she calls after Sho’s satisfactorily dry, as if her voice can carry through the long halls of the estate, as if they’re not men in their mid-30s who don’t need their mothers to tell them that their friends have arrived.
Jun comes clambering down the wide spiral staircase, grinning excitedly. “Can you make us snacks, please?” he says when he arrives in front of them.
Matsumoto’s mother reaches up and pats his cheek fondly. “Make your own damn drinking food.”
Matsumoto laughs and Sho sends her off with a “see you later!” as she excuses herself.
Sho turns and looks around the foyer, super casual, totally cool. “Where’s Nino?”
Matsumoto gives him a look that lingers a beat too long before he responds, “He was working in the garden earlier. Should be finishing up soon.” He starts walking into the house. Sho follows, glances out the high windows and sees the dark storm clouds rolling in.
“He’s not actually your gardener, is he?” Ninomiya had said during the party that the Matsumotos let him use the garden because he only has so much space on his apartment veranda, but Sho’s learned through their text conversations in the past week that Ninomiya spends a considerable amount of time at the Matsumoto estate. He even has his own bedroom for when it’s too late (or he’s too lazy) to go home.
Matsumoto opens the door to a hallway closet, handing Sho an impossibly fluffy towel, beige with little eggs embroidered in the corner. “He makes me pay for the really good tomatoes,” he answers flatly, and Sho’s guffaw tucks itself into a sheath of 800 GSM Egyptian cotton.
They’re ready for Ninomiya when he shows up at the side door a few minutes later, totally soaked and pathetic. They have a towel laid out on the floor, along with a spare t-shirt and shorts for him to change into so that he doesn’t catch a cold on the way to the bath. Sho thinks it’s probably more conspicuous to look away, so he puts on a carefully disinterested face as he stares point-blank, watching Ninomiya undress and dry himself off.
“Is that really necessary?” Ninomiya asks, shooting him what looks very much like a flirtatious smile. The gurgling in his chest and the tightening in his groin are telling him that yes, this is absolutely necessary.
***
Step 2
When Sho thinks about it, there’s not a lot in common between a stock broker, a web programmer, a calligraphy instructor, and the son of an egg mogul, but they all share the language of alcohol.
The high school teacher shows up at the bar last, setting his bag gently on the floor before he slides into the booth. “Sorry I’m late; a couple of the boys on the basketball team got into a fight so I couldn’t leave until they settled their differences.”
Satoshi slides the last beer across the table. “Thanks for your hard work today.”
Aiba beams, picking up his glass and waiting for the rest of them to do the same.
“Kanpai!”
An antsy, impatient part of Sho doesn’t believe he needs to go through this next step, going out with Ninomiya in a group of friends. Recently it’s been the five of them anyway, or some combination thereof, either in their homes or out to eat and drink. There’s something charming about how quickly Ninomiya and Satoshi came to be friends in particular, and it might be because Satoshi knows how much Ninomiya means to him, but Sho suspects that it’s largely because Satoshi and Ninomiya operate on a similar wavelength. He watches them from across the table, mumbling and giggling to each other, and he’s a little surprised that he isn’t hit with the jealousy he expects. Watching Ninomiya enjoy himself in good company makes Sho happy, pure and simple.
Maybe Sho’s grown up, after all. He should call his mother and tell her the good news.
“Sho-san?” Ninomiya’s doing that thing again where his eyes say so much more than his mouth. His tone is pleasant and curious, but his gaze is intense, penetrating. Sho can feel himself flush under the attention, and he quickly downs the rest of his drink so he has something else to blame for it. Ninomiya smirks, his lips pressed against the edge of his glass, and Sho can’t seem to look away as Ninomiya tilts the glass back, his throat bobbing with each swallow. So lewd.
“Sho-chan’s zoning out again,” Aiba stage whispers to Matsumoto, even though Sho’s sitting right between them.
“Kazu doesn’t seem to hate it,” Matsumoto stage whispers back.
Sho catches Ninomiya’s eye and they share a long-suffering look. It’s pretty obvious to all parties involved how this relationship is going to turn out, and the more confident he is that his feelings are returned, the bolder he becomes. He opens his mouth to crack a joke about leaving with Ninomiya so their friends will finally leave them alone, but he clamps his jaw immediately shut, barely suppressing the noise he makes in the back of his throat when he feels a foot nudge against his own, toeing at the hem of his pants. With the way Ninomiya’s calmly watching him, there’s no doubt who’s responsible.
His plans to smoothly invite Ninomiya back to his place are quickly replaced by a frenzied ten minutes of calming himself down enough that he can stand up without embarrassing himself. He doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he arrives home that night, groping the walls as his eyes adjust to make his way to the bedroom. He finds the lube right where he left it the previous night, popping the cap open with his left hand as he makes quick work of his slacks with his right. In only takes a few wet, slow strokes to get himself back to where Ninomiya had left him less than an hour before, and before he knows it, his cock is hard and heavy, his hips moving in time with his hand.
Sho’s phone buzzes with a phone call, and he curses as the bright screen glares at him in the dark. After a moment, he huffs, swiping across the screen and giving himself another lazy stroke.
“You’re awful.”
”You like it.”
Well, Sho can’t deny that. “So, you... want to, right?” Sho keeps his hand in place and rolls his hips slowly as he waits for Ninomiya’s response.
“Want to what?” and Sho hates how amused Ninomiya sounds, hates how the expression he imagines on Ninomiya’s face only makes him squeeze himself harder.
Sho grits his teeth. “You know,” he says, voice catching. Date. Be together.
“Do to you what you’re doing to yourself right now?”
Sho lets out a grunt as he stops pretending, and he readjusts his grip, thrusting twice into his fist.
He hears a long sigh from the other end. “I’d probably do it differently, though. Keep things exciting for you.”
“Tell me how,” Sho breathes.
“Mm... use my fingers? Rub them across the head of your cock.” Another long sigh. “Drag them across the underside.”
Sho closes his eyes and follows along, brushing his fingertips lightly across his sensitive skin.
”I bet you’re thick... I’d want to use both hands on you.” Sho doesn’t like to use both hands on himself because inevitably something will get dirty, but he finds himself switching his phone to speaker mode so that he can continue their conversation hands-free.
“I’d let you,” Sho responds, twisting his wrist with every stroke. He’d let Ninomiya do anything to him, really.
“Can I use my mouth?”
Sho exhales abruptly and thrusts harder into his hands, and he hears Ninomiya let out a low noise. “Bet you like it... as much as I do...” In his mind it’s Ninomiya’s tongue and mouth sucking him in, Ninomiya’s free hand squeezing his balls. “So hot and wet... fuck...” He can barely make out the clipped sound of skin slapping against skin from beneath the noises in his own bedroom, but he concentrates as much as he can, increasingly breathless as he waits for Ninomiya’s next words.
“Let me taste you,” Ninomiya says, his voice high and strained, and it doesn’t take long for Sho to comply, his hips lifting off the mattress as he strokes himself to completion in jagged, messy streaks. That seems to do it for Ninomiya, his voice a serenade as he lets out a long, slow moan that eventually hitches, once, twice... three times. A sigh.
Sho has traced his eyes along the shape of the overhead light a few times before Ninomiya speaks, absurdly energetic. “Well, that was fun!”
Sho laughs, and Ninomiya giggles in response. “Can we go on an actual date sometime soon? There’s an order I’m supposed to do this in.”
“I think the order stopped mattering for us a long time ago.”
Sho lets out a chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”
“I’m free this weekend. I have to check on a flower bush I planted, but you can pick me up for dinner after that, your treat.”
“Sure, if you’re okay with fast food.”
“Master of romance. As expected of a shoujo manga expert.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
He cuts the call off in the middle of Ninomiya’s laughter, tickling his cheeks into a smile, before he remembers the current state of both his hands. He casts a fearful glance at his phone screen, the mess not as obvious as it would be in the light but still bad enough.
He deserved that, he thinks.
***
Aiba’s lying on his belly on the carpet, his feet swinging up behind him and his elbows resting on a throw pillow as he turns to the next page of the manga he’s reading. Satoshi is lying on his back next to him, staring blankly at a far corner of the ceiling.
“So are you two official or what?”
Sho looks over at Aiba as he flips to the next page.
“I’m not sure, actually. It’s like, the feelings are obviously mutual.”
“How obvious?”
There’s no way to delicately explain the situation, so he doesn’t bother trying. “Uh. Very obvious.”
Aiba lets out a small “heh” and Satoshi scrunches his face uncomfortably at the implications. Sho doesn’t take offense. They’ve known each other since they were in diapers; Sho wouldn’t go out of his way to think about Satoshi’s sex life either.
“Well, no matter how obvious it is, you still have to make it official. This is your chance to get back on track.” Aiba flips back to an earlier chapter in the volume and lifts it up to show Sho the pages in question. Sho can’t actually read the words from here, but he nods in profound understanding anyway.
Satisfied, Aiba smiles like a proud mentor, and he turns back to where he was in the story, flipping back and forth a few pages because he’s lost his place.
Satoshi rolls his head to the side to address Sho. “What step are you guys on anyway?”
***
Step ???
Sho’s supposed to have taken Ninomiya on two dates, bought him flowers, held his hands at the movies, kissed him on his door step, tagged him on his social media, and made him dinner before they get to this point.
Instead, the plastic delivery containers from their curry dinner are sitting half-rinsed in Sho’s kitchen sink, and the only thing Sho’s made that night are the embarrassing noises at all of the filthy promises Nino’s kept.
Sho reaches down to rest his clean hands in Nino’s hair, sucking in whatever oxygen remains above his waist so that he can retrace their steps that evening: As planned, Sho had picked him up at Matsumoto’s place, and they did some window shopping, went to an arcade where Sho got thoroughly pummeled at a racing game, and...
Sho’s brain seems to keep malfunctioning at this point, because all he knows now is the sensation of Ninomiya sucking the head of Sho’s cock into his mouth, the tip of his tongue swirling all along the underside before it flattens out for wide, languid strokes, in and out. Sho’s hips lift off the couch involuntarily, and he makes a futile mental note to wash the cushion covers all over again. Sho groans as Ninomiya takes him in a little deeper, and he blinks down blearily to watch his cock disappear again and again into Ninomiya’s hot, wet mouth. Ninomiya looks up at him then, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and Sho’s heart roars in his chest. They’ve got a long night ahead of them.
***
Step -20
Sho’s life is really fucking hard, and terrible, and no one understands him. He hates his family – well, maybe not the people, but all the strings attached to being wealthy and high-profile, all the rules he has to follow and bullshit games he has to play. The kids at school care more about what’s in his wallet than what’s in his heart, or even his head. He gets along with most people in a detached, diplomatic kind of way – got that from his father – but his real friends are few and far between.
“Satoshi-kun, I need to get out of here, seriously. I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this.”
Satoshi hums noncommittally on the other end of the line.
“Say, are your parents adopting? Mina-chan’s legally an adult now, right? They could stand to have another kid in the family.”
“You’d be a pain in the ass as a brother.”
“‘Ohno Sho’... hm...”
“You do realize we’re an artistic family, right?”
“Ah, fuck, you’re right.”
Satoshi chuckles, and hums low in thought. “ I think you’ll come to appreciate what you have, eventually. You’ve got a good family, and a good lot in life.”
“Wish it didn’t come with all this shit attached.”
A pause. Satoshi’s probably nodding on the other end. “Just don’t throw it all away before you really understand what’s worth keeping, yeah?”
You’re worth keeping, Sho doesn’t say. A friend who gets him, whose attitude toward him has never changed no matter what’s going on with his family. “Thanks,” he says instead.
“Take a walk, clear your head? I’ll be here if you need me.”
“I know.”
.
Sho gets on the train and rides for a while before he gets off at random. He walks without thinking, his sneakers scraping against the pavement. He’s in a part of the city he knows in theory but never gets a chance to come to, because it’s not where his school friends spend their time. These aren’t the social circles his family runs in.
He wants to think his family members are decent, well-meaning folks who don’t try to flaunt their status or hold a lack thereof against others. His mother is strict about manners and how he interacts with other people (Sho guesses that also has to do with being the oldest son), and that extends to maintaining relationships with people of “upstanding character”, whatever the hell that means. Honestly, it sounds a lot like his mother just wants to pick and choose his friends for him, like they’re obviously trying to pick and choose a wife for him. But like Satoshi said, there’s probably some important lessons in there worth keeping.
Sho arrives at a small park just off the street, swing set rusted over, kids’ rides neglected, paint peeling. If he were with his usual friends from school, they’d make some kind of quip about the people who live in the area, how pathetic it is that they can’t even take care of their local park. They’d turn to Sho and expect him to agree, laugh along, and he hates that a part of him would do so, without a second thought.
“You’re in my spot,” he hears, and he looks up from where he’s sitting on a swing to find a boy around his age looking down at him. He has a slim build and quiet features, but he stands his ground, waiting for Sho to get up.
“There’s literally a swing right next to me.”
“Have you tried sitting in it?”
Sho frowns. “No.”
“I have, and I like this swing better. I’ve done my research and made a decision based on more complete information. You haven’t done your fair share of work. You don’t get to decide over me.”
Annoyed, Sho has half a mind to stay put just on principle, but the boy has a point. “Fine, I’ll do my part, and then we get to decide what to do when we both have complete information. Fair?”
The other boy simply nods his head at the other swing. “Go on, then.”
Literal microseconds after Sho has left the swing, the other boy has taken his spot, like a cat in a freshly vacated cardboard box. Sho turns to him and glares. “What the hell, I thought you were waiting for my research.”
“Oh yeah, totally. You’ll find that that swing is a piece of shit, and you were better off staying put.” The boy looks pleased with himself. Indignant, Sho stomps his way to the other swing. He all but tosses the entirety of his body weight onto the swing, which doesn’t even pretend to buckle before it unhinges completely, landing him on the ground beneath.
The other boy cackles next to him as he gets off his swing and stands in front of Sho. “Sorry,” he says between giggles. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried that on someone, but you’re the first person who’s sat so angrily, like a dumbass.” He grins and offers a hand up.
Sho takes it, letting himself get pulled forward. No one’s ever called him a dumbass before. “Shut up,” he mutters, but the other boy only grins wider, and Sho finds himself grinning back.
.
Sho spends the next hour talking about a lot of dumb shit, things he isn’t usually allowed to talk about because they aren’t becoming of a family of their standing. This boy has no preconceived notions of who Sho is, though, and he listens without judgment, making quick-witted comments back, not mincing his words or holding in his laughter just because it’s Sho on the receiving end.
This is it, Sho realizes. This is what he’s been looking for. Someone who listens to him because humans are inherently worth listening to, someone who teases him when he deserves it because humans are also inherently stupid creatures. Someone who’s getting to know him for the sake of getting to know him.
The sun is low on the horizon before he realizes it, and the other boy’s watch buzzes on his wrist. He looks down at it, his eyes wide. “Crap, I need to go.”
“Wait!” Sho grabs his wrist before he gets too far, and the other boy blinks rapidly, shoulders twitching in surprise. “What’s your name?”
The other boy relaxes in his grip, giving him a simple smile. “Ninomiya Kazunari. Call me Nino.”
“Nino.” As for Sho, he’s a Sakurai, but more importantly: “I’m Sho.”
Ninomiya nods once before he turns to walk away.
Sho doesn’t stop watching him until he’s long, long gone.
***
Technically Step 8 or so, probably,
finds the five of them cruising through the city on a sunny day. They’re in Matsumoto’s American-made convertible, top down, singing along to the radio like they’re an idol group filming their peppy new music video in LA.
It’s mid-afternoon, and they’d just had lunch at Matsumoto’s place. His mom always makes a fuss about grown men being fed by their mothers, but she always seems so happy to have an excuse to cook for others. There’s always eggs on the menu.
They’re stopped at a red light on the way to the movie theatre when Matsumoto turns to Sho and says, “Honestly, I’m just glad you two finally got together. Do you know how insufferable a guy is when he’s been in love with the same person for twenty years?”
Sho’s brain grinds to a halt, and he nearly breaks his neck turning toward the backseat to look at Nino. Nino’s scowling out at the sidewalk, his hair blown messily across his eyes. The tips of his ears are bright red, but Sho’s cheeks burn, so maybe they match.
“Don’t worry, MatsuJun, I know,” Ohno replies.
Aiba clucks in amusement from his spot in the middle seat. “Thanks for your hard work, the both of you.”
.
“You never told me you remembered me,” Sho will say to him later that night, when they’re pressed skin-to-skin under the sheets of Ninomiya’s bed.
“I don’t know why you assumed I didn’t. I literally asked you if I knew you.” Ninomiya’s response will be prickly and dismissive, the usual way he deflects his embarrassment. But then he’ll tuck himself closer into Sho’s arms as if to say,
How could I forget?
maaitaiyouFrom: :3.
Title: Forget-me-not
Pairing/Focus: Sakumiya
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~5k
Warnings: None
Summary: Sho never thought he’d see Nino again, but now that he’s back, Sho recruits the help of his friends to keep him there.
Notes: Hello! I was struck by your “long lost lovers” prompt and some other elements from your sign-up, and while this isn’t quite any of the above, I hope you like it. Thanks to the usual folks, and to ten years of Nino Exchange!
Sho’s only been there for forty minutes but he’s already tired, having greeted and smiled pleasantly at every friend-of-the-family and peripheral acquaintance in existence, somehow all gathered together in the enormous foyer of the Matsumoto estate. He supposes he should be used to it at this point, after a lifetime of accompanying his Very Social parents on their tireless search for a Very Viable daughter-in-law. But even now that he’s on his own and coming to these affairs of his own volition, there’s only so much rich people posturing that he can take.
Matsumoto is much better at it, holding a glass of champagne loosely in his hand as he sways from one cluster of beautiful people to the next, until he stops in front of Sho and his smirk widens, his shoulders loosening slightly. “Done already, Sho-kun?”
Sho smiles wryly. “How could you tell?”
Matsumoto simply shrugs. “You seem done.” He takes a sip. “I’m sorry we don’t have any real drinks. You know how these things go.”
Sho tilts his head in acknowledgment. He knows. “Honestly, I’d stop coming altogether, but despite the circumstances, there are some decent folks in the lot.”
Matsumoto gives him his 3am-and-drunk-on-cheap-wine grin, the one that reminds him that sometimes, very rarely, people from humble beginnings really do manage to get their happy endings just from hard work. He’s still not quite clear on what “egg business” Matsumoto’s father made it big in, but he’s glad to have a genuine Friend in a room full of Connections.
“You want to hang out in the garden later?” Matsumoto offers, waving a perfectly manicured hand toward a side door. “I still have some people I need to say hello to, but you can go and catch a breather now. I’ll meet you out there soon.”
“That sounds excellent,” Sho responds, not bothering to cover up his sigh of relief. He lifts a hand to wave cheerfully as Matsumoto’s mother comes by, looking more like an auntie than a lady as she smiles an apology to Sho before taking Matsumoto away. Sho turns and heads toward the door.
“Oh, Kazu’s probably out there, so you can ask him where we keep the b-e-e-r!”
“That’s great, but who’s Kazu?” Sho turns back to receive an explanation, but Matsumoto’s already gone.
.
This is actually the first time the Matsumotos have hosted a gathering, and while he likes to think of Matsumoto as a friend, he’s still a rich friend whose family has earned the right to make rich rules about where other rich people can put their rich rears in their rich garden. So Sho stands awkwardly for a bit, stares at the grass, tweets a photo he took earlier of the beautiful hors d’oeuvres display (to his public rich person Twitter, of course), and looks back up to find a slim man staring at him.
“Oh!”
The man blinks rapidly and his shoulders twitch upward, as if he’s the one who gets to be startled. He regains his composure and asks cautiously, “What are you doing in my garden?” And it’s his voice that brings Sho back.
“Oh.” Oh. That’s right. Ninomiya’s first name started with “Kazu”. Kazunari, or was it Kazuya? Kazuhito? Sho’s only half sure because he’d written it down as soon as he’d gotten home that night, but the characters on paper would fade along with his memories of that afternoon, smudged away until all that’s left is a certain warmth, a general feeling instead of a specific event.
But it’s a feeling he definitely knows, one that he’s searched for more than half his life now, and he’d thought he’d be ready but he absolutely is not when suddenly it hits him all over again.
Ninomiya stands still in front of him, eyes searching, waiting for a response.
“Oh! Sorry. Matsumoto-kun told me to wait out here. Said to ask you where the beer is.”
Ninomiya’s eyes are narrowed slightly, unreadable. “Do I know you?”
Does he not? Sho is suddenly hit with the very real possibility that he’s the only one who remembers that day. The warmth, that feeling of seeing Ninomiya again, drains slowly from his body, leaving him a little cold and empty instead.
“Sorry,” he manages to say. “I’m Sakurai Sho.” He watches the tightness thaw from Ninomiya’s face.
“Sakurai-san,” Ninomiya replies with a nod, seemingly more to himself than to Sho. “I’m Ninomiya Kazunari, and the beer is back there in my shed.”
***
Ninomiya is one of Matsumoto’s long-time friends – a real friend, from way before Matsumoto’s father’s business took off and their Venn diagram of social activity separated almost completely. Matsumoto is as good at making enemies as he is as making friends, which means that the majority of people who’ve met him in his new life keep him at a safe, cordial distance. The ones who dare to come in closer either get burned because they’re only there to get something out of him, or stick around because they, like Matsumoto, really just want a simple friendship with a simple dude, without the money attached.
Amid all of the change, Ninomiya has stuck around (Matsumoto has kept him around) because he’s never once used Matsumoto for his money or status. “I made him pay for my food way before they got rich,” he confides, and when Sho laughs in response, Ninomiya smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he puts his lips to the rim of his beer bottle. Sho’s laughter subsides a little, and he fails spectacularly at hiding the fact that he’s watching Ninomiya drink.
Over the course of the last hour, the warmth, that feeling, has swelled and waned, pulsed within him, and it sits comfortably now, somewhere deep in his chest. What was mere moments ago a heavy hopelessness about half a lifetime spent pining for a boy he met in the park, has now turned into a different kind of heaviness, glinting like steel will, blindingly bright.
Ninomiya may not remember that day, but Sho can’t really blame him. It was a chance meeting once, ages ago, and it’s pretty lame and embarrassing how quickly Sho fell for someone who would ultimately forget who he is.
But they’re adults now, and they get to choose how, and with whom, they spend their days.
Sho has all the time in the world to make sure Ninomiya remembers him this time.
***
Satoshi’s the kind of person who can’t stop giggling once he starts. He gets stuck on a small detail until it’s stretched to its limits, one tangent unfolding into endless possibilities. This is what makes his calligraphy so deep, Sho supposes, so fascinating to look at from every possible angle, but right now he’s being pretty fucking annoying when all Sho wants to do is figure out his plan of attack.
“Oh-chan, please, the man needs us,” Aiba says with a wide, gleeful smile that makes it clear he has no intention of doing anything to help.
“No, I get it, I’m so happy for you, man,” Satoshi says, waving his hand in the air as if to shoo the stray laughter away. “It’s not every day your Prince Charming comes back into your life after twenty years and he’s still single and, hot?” Sho nods seriously in confirmation. “But honestly, who says call me all seductively and actually means it?”
Sho. Sho does. “If we could get back on track, please,” he pleads, and Satoshi bobs his head, visibly swallowing the last of his giggles in order to help his childhood friend. Then, a snort escapes from his nose, and Sho has no choice but to smother him with a couch cushion.
***
Step 1,
according to Aiba, who is an expert because he borrowed a bunch of shoujo manga from his sister-in-law (for research), is to have Sho confirm his feelings. Maybe he’s stuck in the past, Aiba had explained, or on an idea that’s been percolating in his lonely, sex-starved brain for twenty years of who he wants Ninomiya to be instead of who he actually is.
Sho puts the cushion covers in the washing machine – they’d gotten so dirty after being used to smother both of his best friends – and sets them to wash and dry while he’s out.
It starts to rain, lukewarm and tentative, when the gates to the Matsumoto estate open for him, growing rapidly in confidence until he’s bonafide cold and wet by the time he gets to the front door. Matsumoto’s mother ushers him in and immediately starts patting him down with her handkerchief, this time very much her auntie self.
“Jun! Kazu-kun! Sho-kun is here to play!” she calls after Sho’s satisfactorily dry, as if her voice can carry through the long halls of the estate, as if they’re not men in their mid-30s who don’t need their mothers to tell them that their friends have arrived.
Jun comes clambering down the wide spiral staircase, grinning excitedly. “Can you make us snacks, please?” he says when he arrives in front of them.
Matsumoto’s mother reaches up and pats his cheek fondly. “Make your own damn drinking food.”
Matsumoto laughs and Sho sends her off with a “see you later!” as she excuses herself.
Sho turns and looks around the foyer, super casual, totally cool. “Where’s Nino?”
Matsumoto gives him a look that lingers a beat too long before he responds, “He was working in the garden earlier. Should be finishing up soon.” He starts walking into the house. Sho follows, glances out the high windows and sees the dark storm clouds rolling in.
“He’s not actually your gardener, is he?” Ninomiya had said during the party that the Matsumotos let him use the garden because he only has so much space on his apartment veranda, but Sho’s learned through their text conversations in the past week that Ninomiya spends a considerable amount of time at the Matsumoto estate. He even has his own bedroom for when it’s too late (or he’s too lazy) to go home.
Matsumoto opens the door to a hallway closet, handing Sho an impossibly fluffy towel, beige with little eggs embroidered in the corner. “He makes me pay for the really good tomatoes,” he answers flatly, and Sho’s guffaw tucks itself into a sheath of 800 GSM Egyptian cotton.
They’re ready for Ninomiya when he shows up at the side door a few minutes later, totally soaked and pathetic. They have a towel laid out on the floor, along with a spare t-shirt and shorts for him to change into so that he doesn’t catch a cold on the way to the bath. Sho thinks it’s probably more conspicuous to look away, so he puts on a carefully disinterested face as he stares point-blank, watching Ninomiya undress and dry himself off.
“Is that really necessary?” Ninomiya asks, shooting him what looks very much like a flirtatious smile. The gurgling in his chest and the tightening in his groin are telling him that yes, this is absolutely necessary.
***
Step 2
When Sho thinks about it, there’s not a lot in common between a stock broker, a web programmer, a calligraphy instructor, and the son of an egg mogul, but they all share the language of alcohol.
The high school teacher shows up at the bar last, setting his bag gently on the floor before he slides into the booth. “Sorry I’m late; a couple of the boys on the basketball team got into a fight so I couldn’t leave until they settled their differences.”
Satoshi slides the last beer across the table. “Thanks for your hard work today.”
Aiba beams, picking up his glass and waiting for the rest of them to do the same.
“Kanpai!”
An antsy, impatient part of Sho doesn’t believe he needs to go through this next step, going out with Ninomiya in a group of friends. Recently it’s been the five of them anyway, or some combination thereof, either in their homes or out to eat and drink. There’s something charming about how quickly Ninomiya and Satoshi came to be friends in particular, and it might be because Satoshi knows how much Ninomiya means to him, but Sho suspects that it’s largely because Satoshi and Ninomiya operate on a similar wavelength. He watches them from across the table, mumbling and giggling to each other, and he’s a little surprised that he isn’t hit with the jealousy he expects. Watching Ninomiya enjoy himself in good company makes Sho happy, pure and simple.
Maybe Sho’s grown up, after all. He should call his mother and tell her the good news.
“Sho-san?” Ninomiya’s doing that thing again where his eyes say so much more than his mouth. His tone is pleasant and curious, but his gaze is intense, penetrating. Sho can feel himself flush under the attention, and he quickly downs the rest of his drink so he has something else to blame for it. Ninomiya smirks, his lips pressed against the edge of his glass, and Sho can’t seem to look away as Ninomiya tilts the glass back, his throat bobbing with each swallow. So lewd.
“Sho-chan’s zoning out again,” Aiba stage whispers to Matsumoto, even though Sho’s sitting right between them.
“Kazu doesn’t seem to hate it,” Matsumoto stage whispers back.
Sho catches Ninomiya’s eye and they share a long-suffering look. It’s pretty obvious to all parties involved how this relationship is going to turn out, and the more confident he is that his feelings are returned, the bolder he becomes. He opens his mouth to crack a joke about leaving with Ninomiya so their friends will finally leave them alone, but he clamps his jaw immediately shut, barely suppressing the noise he makes in the back of his throat when he feels a foot nudge against his own, toeing at the hem of his pants. With the way Ninomiya’s calmly watching him, there’s no doubt who’s responsible.
His plans to smoothly invite Ninomiya back to his place are quickly replaced by a frenzied ten minutes of calming himself down enough that he can stand up without embarrassing himself. He doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he arrives home that night, groping the walls as his eyes adjust to make his way to the bedroom. He finds the lube right where he left it the previous night, popping the cap open with his left hand as he makes quick work of his slacks with his right. In only takes a few wet, slow strokes to get himself back to where Ninomiya had left him less than an hour before, and before he knows it, his cock is hard and heavy, his hips moving in time with his hand.
Sho’s phone buzzes with a phone call, and he curses as the bright screen glares at him in the dark. After a moment, he huffs, swiping across the screen and giving himself another lazy stroke.
“You’re awful.”
”You like it.”
Well, Sho can’t deny that. “So, you... want to, right?” Sho keeps his hand in place and rolls his hips slowly as he waits for Ninomiya’s response.
“Want to what?” and Sho hates how amused Ninomiya sounds, hates how the expression he imagines on Ninomiya’s face only makes him squeeze himself harder.
Sho grits his teeth. “You know,” he says, voice catching. Date. Be together.
“Do to you what you’re doing to yourself right now?”
Sho lets out a grunt as he stops pretending, and he readjusts his grip, thrusting twice into his fist.
He hears a long sigh from the other end. “I’d probably do it differently, though. Keep things exciting for you.”
“Tell me how,” Sho breathes.
“Mm... use my fingers? Rub them across the head of your cock.” Another long sigh. “Drag them across the underside.”
Sho closes his eyes and follows along, brushing his fingertips lightly across his sensitive skin.
”I bet you’re thick... I’d want to use both hands on you.” Sho doesn’t like to use both hands on himself because inevitably something will get dirty, but he finds himself switching his phone to speaker mode so that he can continue their conversation hands-free.
“I’d let you,” Sho responds, twisting his wrist with every stroke. He’d let Ninomiya do anything to him, really.
“Can I use my mouth?”
Sho exhales abruptly and thrusts harder into his hands, and he hears Ninomiya let out a low noise. “Bet you like it... as much as I do...” In his mind it’s Ninomiya’s tongue and mouth sucking him in, Ninomiya’s free hand squeezing his balls. “So hot and wet... fuck...” He can barely make out the clipped sound of skin slapping against skin from beneath the noises in his own bedroom, but he concentrates as much as he can, increasingly breathless as he waits for Ninomiya’s next words.
“Let me taste you,” Ninomiya says, his voice high and strained, and it doesn’t take long for Sho to comply, his hips lifting off the mattress as he strokes himself to completion in jagged, messy streaks. That seems to do it for Ninomiya, his voice a serenade as he lets out a long, slow moan that eventually hitches, once, twice... three times. A sigh.
Sho has traced his eyes along the shape of the overhead light a few times before Ninomiya speaks, absurdly energetic. “Well, that was fun!”
Sho laughs, and Ninomiya giggles in response. “Can we go on an actual date sometime soon? There’s an order I’m supposed to do this in.”
“I think the order stopped mattering for us a long time ago.”
Sho lets out a chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”
“I’m free this weekend. I have to check on a flower bush I planted, but you can pick me up for dinner after that, your treat.”
“Sure, if you’re okay with fast food.”
“Master of romance. As expected of a shoujo manga expert.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
He cuts the call off in the middle of Ninomiya’s laughter, tickling his cheeks into a smile, before he remembers the current state of both his hands. He casts a fearful glance at his phone screen, the mess not as obvious as it would be in the light but still bad enough.
He deserved that, he thinks.
***
Aiba’s lying on his belly on the carpet, his feet swinging up behind him and his elbows resting on a throw pillow as he turns to the next page of the manga he’s reading. Satoshi is lying on his back next to him, staring blankly at a far corner of the ceiling.
“So are you two official or what?”
Sho looks over at Aiba as he flips to the next page.
“I’m not sure, actually. It’s like, the feelings are obviously mutual.”
“How obvious?”
There’s no way to delicately explain the situation, so he doesn’t bother trying. “Uh. Very obvious.”
Aiba lets out a small “heh” and Satoshi scrunches his face uncomfortably at the implications. Sho doesn’t take offense. They’ve known each other since they were in diapers; Sho wouldn’t go out of his way to think about Satoshi’s sex life either.
“Well, no matter how obvious it is, you still have to make it official. This is your chance to get back on track.” Aiba flips back to an earlier chapter in the volume and lifts it up to show Sho the pages in question. Sho can’t actually read the words from here, but he nods in profound understanding anyway.
Satisfied, Aiba smiles like a proud mentor, and he turns back to where he was in the story, flipping back and forth a few pages because he’s lost his place.
Satoshi rolls his head to the side to address Sho. “What step are you guys on anyway?”
***
Step ???
Sho’s supposed to have taken Ninomiya on two dates, bought him flowers, held his hands at the movies, kissed him on his door step, tagged him on his social media, and made him dinner before they get to this point.
Instead, the plastic delivery containers from their curry dinner are sitting half-rinsed in Sho’s kitchen sink, and the only thing Sho’s made that night are the embarrassing noises at all of the filthy promises Nino’s kept.
Sho reaches down to rest his clean hands in Nino’s hair, sucking in whatever oxygen remains above his waist so that he can retrace their steps that evening: As planned, Sho had picked him up at Matsumoto’s place, and they did some window shopping, went to an arcade where Sho got thoroughly pummeled at a racing game, and...
Sho’s brain seems to keep malfunctioning at this point, because all he knows now is the sensation of Ninomiya sucking the head of Sho’s cock into his mouth, the tip of his tongue swirling all along the underside before it flattens out for wide, languid strokes, in and out. Sho’s hips lift off the couch involuntarily, and he makes a futile mental note to wash the cushion covers all over again. Sho groans as Ninomiya takes him in a little deeper, and he blinks down blearily to watch his cock disappear again and again into Ninomiya’s hot, wet mouth. Ninomiya looks up at him then, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and Sho’s heart roars in his chest. They’ve got a long night ahead of them.
***
Step -20
Sho’s life is really fucking hard, and terrible, and no one understands him. He hates his family – well, maybe not the people, but all the strings attached to being wealthy and high-profile, all the rules he has to follow and bullshit games he has to play. The kids at school care more about what’s in his wallet than what’s in his heart, or even his head. He gets along with most people in a detached, diplomatic kind of way – got that from his father – but his real friends are few and far between.
“Satoshi-kun, I need to get out of here, seriously. I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this.”
Satoshi hums noncommittally on the other end of the line.
“Say, are your parents adopting? Mina-chan’s legally an adult now, right? They could stand to have another kid in the family.”
“You’d be a pain in the ass as a brother.”
“‘Ohno Sho’... hm...”
“You do realize we’re an artistic family, right?”
“Ah, fuck, you’re right.”
Satoshi chuckles, and hums low in thought. “ I think you’ll come to appreciate what you have, eventually. You’ve got a good family, and a good lot in life.”
“Wish it didn’t come with all this shit attached.”
A pause. Satoshi’s probably nodding on the other end. “Just don’t throw it all away before you really understand what’s worth keeping, yeah?”
You’re worth keeping, Sho doesn’t say. A friend who gets him, whose attitude toward him has never changed no matter what’s going on with his family. “Thanks,” he says instead.
“Take a walk, clear your head? I’ll be here if you need me.”
“I know.”
.
Sho gets on the train and rides for a while before he gets off at random. He walks without thinking, his sneakers scraping against the pavement. He’s in a part of the city he knows in theory but never gets a chance to come to, because it’s not where his school friends spend their time. These aren’t the social circles his family runs in.
He wants to think his family members are decent, well-meaning folks who don’t try to flaunt their status or hold a lack thereof against others. His mother is strict about manners and how he interacts with other people (Sho guesses that also has to do with being the oldest son), and that extends to maintaining relationships with people of “upstanding character”, whatever the hell that means. Honestly, it sounds a lot like his mother just wants to pick and choose his friends for him, like they’re obviously trying to pick and choose a wife for him. But like Satoshi said, there’s probably some important lessons in there worth keeping.
Sho arrives at a small park just off the street, swing set rusted over, kids’ rides neglected, paint peeling. If he were with his usual friends from school, they’d make some kind of quip about the people who live in the area, how pathetic it is that they can’t even take care of their local park. They’d turn to Sho and expect him to agree, laugh along, and he hates that a part of him would do so, without a second thought.
“You’re in my spot,” he hears, and he looks up from where he’s sitting on a swing to find a boy around his age looking down at him. He has a slim build and quiet features, but he stands his ground, waiting for Sho to get up.
“There’s literally a swing right next to me.”
“Have you tried sitting in it?”
Sho frowns. “No.”
“I have, and I like this swing better. I’ve done my research and made a decision based on more complete information. You haven’t done your fair share of work. You don’t get to decide over me.”
Annoyed, Sho has half a mind to stay put just on principle, but the boy has a point. “Fine, I’ll do my part, and then we get to decide what to do when we both have complete information. Fair?”
The other boy simply nods his head at the other swing. “Go on, then.”
Literal microseconds after Sho has left the swing, the other boy has taken his spot, like a cat in a freshly vacated cardboard box. Sho turns to him and glares. “What the hell, I thought you were waiting for my research.”
“Oh yeah, totally. You’ll find that that swing is a piece of shit, and you were better off staying put.” The boy looks pleased with himself. Indignant, Sho stomps his way to the other swing. He all but tosses the entirety of his body weight onto the swing, which doesn’t even pretend to buckle before it unhinges completely, landing him on the ground beneath.
The other boy cackles next to him as he gets off his swing and stands in front of Sho. “Sorry,” he says between giggles. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried that on someone, but you’re the first person who’s sat so angrily, like a dumbass.” He grins and offers a hand up.
Sho takes it, letting himself get pulled forward. No one’s ever called him a dumbass before. “Shut up,” he mutters, but the other boy only grins wider, and Sho finds himself grinning back.
.
Sho spends the next hour talking about a lot of dumb shit, things he isn’t usually allowed to talk about because they aren’t becoming of a family of their standing. This boy has no preconceived notions of who Sho is, though, and he listens without judgment, making quick-witted comments back, not mincing his words or holding in his laughter just because it’s Sho on the receiving end.
This is it, Sho realizes. This is what he’s been looking for. Someone who listens to him because humans are inherently worth listening to, someone who teases him when he deserves it because humans are also inherently stupid creatures. Someone who’s getting to know him for the sake of getting to know him.
The sun is low on the horizon before he realizes it, and the other boy’s watch buzzes on his wrist. He looks down at it, his eyes wide. “Crap, I need to go.”
“Wait!” Sho grabs his wrist before he gets too far, and the other boy blinks rapidly, shoulders twitching in surprise. “What’s your name?”
The other boy relaxes in his grip, giving him a simple smile. “Ninomiya Kazunari. Call me Nino.”
“Nino.” As for Sho, he’s a Sakurai, but more importantly: “I’m Sho.”
Ninomiya nods once before he turns to walk away.
Sho doesn’t stop watching him until he’s long, long gone.
***
Technically Step 8 or so, probably,
finds the five of them cruising through the city on a sunny day. They’re in Matsumoto’s American-made convertible, top down, singing along to the radio like they’re an idol group filming their peppy new music video in LA.
It’s mid-afternoon, and they’d just had lunch at Matsumoto’s place. His mom always makes a fuss about grown men being fed by their mothers, but she always seems so happy to have an excuse to cook for others. There’s always eggs on the menu.
They’re stopped at a red light on the way to the movie theatre when Matsumoto turns to Sho and says, “Honestly, I’m just glad you two finally got together. Do you know how insufferable a guy is when he’s been in love with the same person for twenty years?”
Sho’s brain grinds to a halt, and he nearly breaks his neck turning toward the backseat to look at Nino. Nino’s scowling out at the sidewalk, his hair blown messily across his eyes. The tips of his ears are bright red, but Sho’s cheeks burn, so maybe they match.
“Don’t worry, MatsuJun, I know,” Ohno replies.
Aiba clucks in amusement from his spot in the middle seat. “Thanks for your hard work, the both of you.”
.
“You never told me you remembered me,” Sho will say to him later that night, when they’re pressed skin-to-skin under the sheets of Ninomiya’s bed.
“I don’t know why you assumed I didn’t. I literally asked you if I knew you.” Ninomiya’s response will be prickly and dismissive, the usual way he deflects his embarrassment. But then he’ll tuck himself closer into Sho’s arms as if to say,
How could I forget?
Thank You❤💛 - Maaitaiyou
(Anonymous) 2020-06-24 02:15 am (UTC)(link)It must be painful to live a life where others were kind to you because of your status and benefits that they can get from you and I understood so well why Sho was willing to look for him for 20 years although he forgets his name.
Love how Nino nonchalant attitude that makes the story lighter and fun to read. Love how he playing a game with Sho heart when he clearly remembers who is he since the start. “Do I know you?” as expected of the brat and was really a naughty way of asking people if you remember me so it's was not a surprise if Sho thought Nino forgets him.
The flashback scene in the past when they met in the park was cute. A lost rich boy finally found someone who look at him as who he is, I totally understand why Sho hung on it.
Although the other didn't make many appearances, it's important and complete the story. Aiba giving tips base on what he learned from a shoujo manga, that's cute and I can totally imagine him sitting on his belly and reading it. Ohno with his don't care appearance but actually really care about Sho and the rich prince Matsujun. I can totally pictured them in my mind.
The last scene in the car, of course, it reminds of turning up MV.
Once again Thank You for writing🙇🏽♀️👍
お疲れ様でした👏
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AND WRITER I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THIS EGG BUSINESS the egg towels had me crying! so amazing
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