fic for sky_fish7

[nino-mod.livejournal.com]

For: sky_fish7
From: ylunio

Title: Alcohol, coffee and cigarettes
Pairing: Sakumiya
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Just some curses here and there
Summary: Nino needs to follow a more healthy lifestyle.
Notes: I almost gave up writing this fanfiction because I had a couple of hard months, so I apologize in advance to my recipient, if this is not exactly what she wanted to read. I tried to do my best, and in the end I had some fun writing it, so thank you for this opportunity. Also, this is the very first time I’ve written this pairing, and I hope I didn’t write them too OOC. Thank you so much, nino_mod because of your patience and thank you for being the amazing mod you are!


Ninomiya Kazunari had to hold back a smirk as he kept his gaze on the man sitting in front of him, trying not to make him notice that the file he was looking for was right there, on his desk.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I was sure I had said to the nurse to…”

“You did,” Nino scoffed. “It’s there,” and he pushed the folder toward him with a mocking grin on his face, as the man did his best not to blush in embarrassment.

“Yes,” the man said. “Sorry, so…” He fixed his spectacles and Nino tensed a little bit, suddenly remembering why he was there. “Ninomiya Kazuya-san…”

“Kazunari.”

“What?”

“Kazunari. My name. You read it wrong.”

The man blushed again and Nino started finding his clumsiness kind of cute. “Ninomiya…” The man paused, “Kazunari-san. Regarding your stomachache and exhaustion, I have the results of your tests and everything here is pretty much normal. There is nothing that requires specific medical treatments.” Now that he was looking at numbers and charts, the man seemed to be much more at ease. “So, I think that most of your problems come from stress and your lifestyle. I can prescribe you a good proton-pump inhibitor, at least to help you overcome nausea, but I have to recommend you follow a more healthy lifestyle.”

Nino groaned. “What do you mean by healthy?”

The man looked up at him again and intertwined his fingers on the table. “You need to sleep, more than you usually do, and eat regularly. I want you to have breakfast, lunch and dinner, to not drink alcohol and to cut down your caffeine intake. Oh, and you should try to stop smoking as well.”

“Do you want me to stop living too?” Nino ruffled his hair. It was ridiculous.

“Quite the opposite, Ninomiya-san.” The man looked concerned now. “You fainted. At work. That’s why you’re here, because your boss, who is also a dear friend of mine, is worried about you. So, follow my directions, please. If not for yourself, do it for Masaki.”

Nino sighed. He had almost forgot about it. About the panic in Aiba’s voice when he had found him on the bathroom floor, pale and cold. However, he did his best to smile and he leaned forward, crossing his arms on the doctor’s desk. “Are you sure I can’t drink? I mean... a couple of beers every night never killed anyone...”

“Ninomiya-san...”

“And smoking,” Nino smirked, because he knew people usually loved his smirk, everyone always fell for his smirk, and stood up. “What can an innocent little cigarette do? Nothing.”

“Ninomi…”

“And coffee.” Before Nino could reach for the man on the other side of the desk, the doctor shook his head and lifted his hand up.

“You can’t corrupt me. These are medical prescriptions, not negotiable,” he said, stuttering a little bit and fixing his spectacles on his nose.

Nino groaned and sat back again before giving the doctor a stiff nod.

The doctor smiled. “Please, call me if you notice any change, or if you need anything.” The man looked down at his agenda. “I think we should see each other again in a couple of weeks, anyway, if it’s okay with you.”

“Yes, it’s okay.” Nino stood up again. “Thanks, Doctor…” And he looked at his nametag for the first time since he met him. Sakurai Sho, it said.


***


After a little bit more than one week, Nino was ready to kill someone. He couldn’t stay awake in the morning because the only thing he could think of was coffee, black, hot coffee, and not that stupid surrogate Aiba kept leaving on his desk with a huge smile every morning. And he couldn’t sleep well at night because he was used to drinking at least a couple of cans of beer while he was playing videogames. It helped him relax, what the hell. He had to admit, however, that his stomachache had almost gone away and that he could focus on his work much more easily, but only after ten in the morning. Before that time he was more or less a living zombie. But his cheeks were pink and he could even walk home without feeling too tired at the end of the day, so he had to admit that something was working right.

The only thing he wasn’t doing as Sakurai had asked him to do was to stop smoking. He needed his cigarette after lunch, even more now that he couldn’t drink his beloved coffee. But that was all.

Nino was, actually, quite proud of himself, and of his willpower. Yes, quite proud.

What he wasn’t really proud of was that he couldn’t stop thinking about Sakurai. Usually because he wanted to kill him, more in the very first hours of the day, but some other times because of his plump lips, and his stupid spectacles, and the way he sounded genuinely concerned about his health. Well, of course. He was a doctor. It was his job.

So when Nino’s friend, Matsumoto Jun, invited him out to celebrate his last successful photographic service, Nino decided that he could allow himself to make an exception and have fun for one night, after so many days of meticulous obedience to Sakurai’s rules. In hopes of forgetting about Sakurai as well.

They had dinner at a fancy izakaya restaurant and then they went to a club. And another club. And another club. Nino didn’t know at what point, during the night, he found himself alone, throwing up at the corner of one street. He could vaguely remember Matsumoto saying something about a girl he was supposed to meet, but nothing more. Alcohol was still running through his veins, intoxicating him, as he sat down, God knows where, his head bent and his hair stuck to his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Nino heard a voice, and groaned a response, something along the line of “fuck off, I’m perfectly fine”, but then the voice called his name and Nino force himself to look up.

And Sakurai was there.

Sakurai looked tired, but not of the kind of tired people look after a night of fun. He had his spectacles on and his suitcase and, Nino realized with outstanding lucidity, there were good chances that the man had just finished working. On Saturday night. At almost six in the morning.

“Thank you,” Sakurai said, and Nino wondered why he was thanking him and why he was looking so embarrassed. “But I thought I told you not to drink alcohol, for the sake of your stomach.”

Nino muttered something about his first night off in days, but Sakurai didn’t care and helped Nino on his feet. “You should come to my apartment.”

“Is this a proposition?” Nino said, grinning, and he heard Sakurai blabbering something about medical advice. After a while it was just too much, and Nino consciousness flew away.


***


The first thing he felt was a sting of pain at his calf, a cramp, and then a sudden and horrendous headache. Nino sat up, looking for his cell on his bedside table, but he couldn’t find it. Because he touched the wall instead. He blinked, as the realization suddenly hit him: he wasn’t in his apartment.


Nino got up, so fast that his head started spinning, and looked for his clothes, panicking because... damn! He wasn’t wearing any shirt, or pants. Lucky, his underwear was still in its place. He looked around. He had no idea of where he was. In the light of a bright morning that was hurting his eyes he could see a small, almost empty bedroom, the one of someone who doesn’t spend much time at home. And he could hear the sound of someone singing a silly song from the room next door. Nino panicked even more, and grabbed a random t-shirt and a pair of pants, rushing to the genkan. There, on a small table, were his keys and wallet. At least whoever the owner of that apartment was, he wasn’t interested in stealing his money.

It only was when Nino moved to open the door and run away, that he saw a white coat and a way too familiar suitcase. Nino remembered.

Sakurai had found him, and brought him to his house. So, Nino was wearing Sakurai’s clothes now. And Sakurai was taking a morning shower on the other side of the wall, after... a night of steamy sex? Nino wasn’t sure. He knew he was even more flirty than usual when he was drunk, and he knew that he had woken up wearing almost no clothes, but that could mean nothing or everything.

Nino started debating if he should ask Sakurai about what had happened, or not, when he heard the door of the bathroom opening and a low and slightly husky voice calling for his name. Nino grabbed his keys and wallet and ran away.


***


The day of his scheduled appointment with Sakurai for his medical check, Nino pretended to forget about it. He went to work instead and, when Aiba asked him about it, he played dumb and said that he would call the doctor later to schedule another appointment. He never did. In the mean time, he had washed and ironed Sakurai’s clothes and locked them in a drawer under a pile of old manga.

He couldn’t understand why he was so bothered about what happened. If they had actually slept together, well, Nino couldn’t remember but there was nothing wrong with it. Sakurai was a pleasant man, and that only meant that Nino’s insisting advances had some kind of result. And if they hadn’t slept together, then Sakurai had just behaved properly, helping a man in distress – and one of his patients.

Nino wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, but deep down he was wondering if there wasn’t a third option to consider. The one where Sakurai didn’t find him attractive at all, because he was straight, because Nino was not good looking enough, because he had just done too much, or he had called him names, saying that he was a jerk for depriving him of smoking and alcohol and coffee for so long, and he had been dumped. What if Sakurai had dumped him?

“Nino?” Nino lifted his head up and met Aiba’s gaze. “Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for the last five minutes and you were just muttering something about... Sakurai?”

Nino glared. “You must have heard wrong.”

Aiba laughed his breathy funny laugh and Nino almost kicked him. “Well, it’s interesting, because Sho is coming here now.”

“What?” Nino stood up. “How? Why?”

“Sho is coming here. Walking, I guess. And because he found a kitten and he asked me if I could take care of it because his apartment is too small for an animal.”

“Sakurai is coming here.”

Aiba nodded, frowning. “Yes. Oh,” he laughed again. “I think he mentioned he has something for you too. Your clothes?” Aiba tilted his head to the side, looking at Nino like a curious puppy. “Why does Sho have your clothes by the way?”

Nino didn’t even bother to answer. The last things he wanted was to meet Sakurai, and to explain to Aiba what happened. And he couldn’t care less about getting back the only expensive pair of pants and shirt in his possession. He didn’t even like them to begin with.

At first, Nino thought about hiding in the bathroom, but it would have been too lame. Really too lame. So he decided to just walk out of the building, go to a near but not too near café, drink green tea, and then go play arcade games. It sounded like a good plan, a great plan.

Nino started walking with a smirk and, as soon as he left his room, he bumped against someone’s shoulder. A very sloping shoulder.

“Ninomiya-kun!” Sakurai greeted him and Nino flinched. When and how and why did they go from –san to –kun? He didn’t ask, he just turned around and started walking in another direction, ignoring the other man.

After a few seconds, Nino started hearing footsteps at his back.

He walked faster. Sakurai did the same. He started running. Sakurai started running too. He turned around a corner. Sakurai fell.

Nino heard the low thud pretty clearly and he stopped.

Sakurai was lying on his stomach, still.

Nino turned around and reached him, feeling an unwelcomed sting of panic in his chest, as he knelt down next to him to check if he was alive, even if the thought of someone dying because of a trip was quite ridiculous itself, and Sakurai grabbed his wrist.

Nino squirmed. Sakurai lifted his face up to look at him. His forehead was red and his eyes slightly teary – thankfully he wasn’t wearing his spectacles – but he was smiling. He sat up. “I caught you!”

“You fell like an idiot!” Nino tried to move away, but Sakurai’s grip on his wrist was unexpectedly strong.

“You didn’t stop, I had to do something…”

“Why?” Nino whined. “Just, leave me alone okay…”

“I brought you your clothes. You left my house in such a rush that morning, and they were still in the washing machine…”

“In the washing machine?” Nino blinked, and Sakurai nodded.

“You puked on them, on our way home.”

Oh, great! That was exactly what he needed to hear. He had thrown up in front of Sakurai, and that was the reason why he didn’t have his clothes on that morning. He couldn’t decide what was more humiliating: the thought of Sakurai washing his vomit stinky clothes, or that he had witnessed the whole disgusting scene to begin with.

“I’m a doctor, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m used to it,” Sakurai said, and Nino tried his best to keep a straight face, even if it proved to be kind of hard when the other man said: “And it’s not the main reason why I’m here anyway. Giving you your clothes back.”

“No?” Nino quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” Sakurai smiled. Nino squirmed again, but he gave up on fighting and he just sat down on the floor. “I’m here because of what you told me…”

“What I…?”

“Yes. You said that you were grateful we had met, and that your health had improved so much thanks to my advice. And you said that I was the very first doctor you couldn’t dislike.”

Nino felt himself blushing. He was partially relieved because it looked like he hadn’t really insulted him, as he feared, but he couldn’t remember a word of what Sakurai was saying. And the doctor looked too pleased for his own good.

At one point, while he was speaking, Sakurai had twisted his fingers from around Nino’s wrist, and had moved them to his hand, and now he was holding it quietly, brushing his thumb on Nino’s palm. “You said something else…”

Nino had to admit that he had seen it coming, and he just nod, stiffly.

“You said that you find me attractive. Especially my lips. You said they are... plump.”

Nino scoffed. “There is no chance that I…”

“And you told me about your passion for videogames. And guitar. You mentioned your mother once. And when you asked me if you could smoke a cigarette I gave you one of mine, and we shared it.”

Nino chuckled a little. “You smoke?”

Sakurai nodded and, why was he looking so confident all of a sudden? “And I drink too. And I can’t cook. I eat frozen stuff all the time. I skip breakfast everyday and,” he flexed one bicep, “my muscles are basically made of air.”

Nino laughed, and hid his mouth against his arm, peeking at Sakurai and his silly, goofy and strangely confident smile. “You are the worst! Give me all of that medical advice, when you have so many bad habits yourself.”

Sakurai sighed. “I know I’m guilty.”

“Oh, I forgive you. I stole your clothes after all.”

Sakurai laughed, and his laugh sounded deep and dark. Nino found myself shivering a little. Sakurai held his hand a little bit stronger. “I guess, after all of this, you know why I’m here.”

Nino snickered. “I don’t have a clue.”

“Ninomiya-kun,” Sakurai turned a little to face him better. “Kazunari…” Nino felt his stomach clench. “Will you be the Princess to my Mario?”

Nino tried, he really did try to keep a serious expression, but after a few seconds he started chuckling, looking at a perplexed Sakurai that couldn’t help but blink. “What did I…”

“Oh, shut up, you doctor!”

Nino moved his hand away from his face, and lean in, kissing Sakurai on the mouth. He moved back after only a second, licking his lips, and looking up at Sakurai again. The other man tug him closer, and moved his free hand, the other one was still brushing Nino’s hand, to the back of Nino’s nape. Nino felt how Sakurai’s fingers got lost in his hair and how the other man’s breath ghosted on his lips before he kissed him.

Sakurai mouth moved against his, pressing a soft, slow kiss, nibbling his bottom lip, making his way inside Nino’s mouth, and Nino just gave up. It was too much, that mouth he had dreamed about, those plum lips against his own. He kissed him back, fiercely, giving up on any pretense that he didn’t care so much, and that it was not a big deal. Because it was. He got lost in that kiss, in Sakurai’s clumsy, yet so endearing attempts to brush his tongue against Nino’s, while they were fighting for dominance, invading each other’s mouths. Nino moaned, softly, ashamed. And Sakurai groaned, pulling Nino’s hair lightly, and stealing his breath away as he bit at Nino’s bottom lip.

Sakurai moved back then, panting, his and Nino’s cheeks red, but he didn’t let go of Nino’s nape and hand, and Nino leaned in again. Their second kiss was sweeter, like a dessert, a kiss of pecks, and soft light laughs.

“This is quite unfair,” Nino said, then, resting his forehead against Sakurai’s, while the other man was moving his hand on Nino’s cheek, brushing it gently. “You know so many things about me. You even read my medical records. And I know almost nothing about you.”

Sakurai leaned in to peck Nino’s lips again. And again. “We have a lot of time to fix this,” he said, with a cheesy smile.

Nino grinned.