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floweranzaTitle: A Short Love Story in Drabble Form
Pairing: Ohno/Nino
Word Count: ~1,200
Summary: Ohno's an art student and Nino's a music student and together they've made beautiful things.
Notes: This starts off with the first drabble I wrote for the Ohmiya contest. And Ohno's mind more or less wrote itself? I can't decide if this is fluff or something more serious. You'll have to tell me!
It's the last dregs of summer. The trains run packed with laughing teenagers and families taking advantage of the passing breaths of freedom. A tangerine glaze is in the air, languid and humid.
Ohno's standing in between a young woman and a salaryman, watching the buildings pass by through the gaps between bodies. He's not really seeing it. In his head, he's trying to figure out how to paint the movements of a dancer in the hues of summer.
The painting is moving in his mind when the sway of the train brings him close to someone. He murmurs an apology. The bodies on all sides don't let him move away, and he's so close to the other they're rubbing elbows. Ohno looks up.
Closed eyes are illuminated and hidden by the dappled sun. It's a young man about Ohno's age, with slender shoulders and a long, thin face sheened slightly with sweat. There's a guitar case hung over his shoulder and blunt fingertips are playing notes on the strap. A quiet voice fits their rhythm and Ohno realizes that the young man is singing along, softly, "Dah, dah, dah..."
They're pulled away from each other, but Ohno sees the young man on the train again and again. It takes a while for Ohno to realize that the dancer in his head is moving to the tune of that voice but one day, finally, he says hello.
***
"Nice to meet you," the boy had said as an answer to Ohno's slow, awkward, kind of crazy, "Hello. I've seen you on the train. Every time you started singing there was a painting in my head and--"
The boy had said, "I've noticed you, too."
Ohno's an art student and Nino's a music student and together they've made beautiful things. The seasons move from the orange-purple swirls of late summer clouds to the pale blue bare branches of winter. Ohno can't help but see all his surroundings in the dabs of paint on the canvas. He always has but he had never been able to bring it together like this, before Nino.
He has never believed in muses, but that's what Nino must be. When the notes come from Nino's guitar the world emerges from Ohno's paintbrush. Nino's a bright yellow spark of creativity and vivaciousness parting through the dull grey of Ohno's mind.
That's not all. He wants to paint with his fingers on Nino's skin, to kiss and map out the angles of his face with his mouth but he can't. He can't because Nino has a girlfriend and Ohno doesn't want to lose him. He doesn't know what he'd do if he did.
***
Nino's friends are as beautiful as Nino but all in different ways.
Aiba's a dash of the brightest green. He's the grass of fertile fields or even the jungle with its lions and tigers bounding through it, the powerful muscles of their life moving and sliding underneath their pelts. When Ohno sees him he wants to draw writhing figures because Aiba is sexuality embodied in the green of creation. But Aiba is studying to be a chemist, and when Ohno sees his fingers gentle as leaves on the beakers he knows that a jungle can be as peaceful as it is violent.
Sho is a patch of the steadiest red. It's the color that can balance anything else out and Sho is a steady masculinity, the proportions of his body clean to Ohno's eyes and mind. It's a red that has the possibility of raging but is generally calm and studious. Sho's about to graduate early with a degree in economics and it suits him, a position where he can analyze ever-changing events. Seeing Sho always wants to make Ohno draw powerfully built buildings.
Jun's a thin line of the richest purple. It's the undercurrent of a color that stands out but is invested in making others even more vibrant through its care. Jun is the most serious of them and also the most self-conscious and that makes Ohno give him present after present. The sharpness of his face and his words cover the softness of his personality. Jun is beautiful and makes Ohno wants to draw sweeping landscapes.
It's also Jun that Ohno's most frightened of because Jun knows, he can tell.
"Try," Jun says gently, hands resting on Ohno's shoulders.
Ohno shakes his head minutely. He can't.
If an artist tries to touch his muse like a living thing, it'll disappear as quickly as it came.
***
It's beginning to become spring. Ohno is walking home and counting every bud he sees on the way. Some of them are already flowering; Ohno wants to freeze this moment when a tree is halfway between being born and being alive. He wants to paint all sorts of things that are impossible to paint but that's where Nino helps him, with his music and his presence and his smile.
Ohno pauses on the street for a minute, pushing his cap back so that the sun can touch his face. Spring is a time for new beginnings.
He's putting his shoes away when he hears the faint strumming of Nino's guitar from the direction of his studio. Nino's had the keys to his apartment for months now. It's not unusual that Ohno comes home to some kind of covered food and sometimes Nino himself.
He frowns. Usually Nino's music is energetic and electric but this just makes Ohno want to paint hanging clouds of gloominess, dark and metallic grey. His chest clenches as he heads down the hall, pausing in the doorway.
Nino's sitting on a high stool by the large windows that had made Ohno buy the apartment. His thin shoulders are hunched over his guitar and he's outlined like the perfect model. But then Nino raises his long face to Ohno's gaze and the sun plays out on his skin like the first time Ohno had seen him in a train, except that this time it catches the dried tears on Nino's cheeks and the redness of his heavy eyes.
"We broke up," Nino says, breaking the silence between them. "It was so stupid." He sounds angry, kind of disbelieving.
Ohno crosses the room, dragging a stool to Nino's side. "I," he starts to say, and then stops. He's never been good with words. He wants to tell Nino he's sorry because he wants Nino's sharp yellow back but it's not just that. He steals a glance out of the corner of his eye and Nino's brows are knit like he's fighting not to cry, his short, thick fingers too tight on the strings of the guitar.
That's when it happens. In the span of a second Nino loses the fuzzy edges of paint that have always been about him in Ohno's mind, made him untouchable because Ohno hadn't wanted to lose him by touching what shouldn't be touched. In the span of a second Nino becomes the most real thing in the room, the edges of his sad face sharp against the background.
Ohno stands up and places his hands on Nino's cheeks. Nino tilts his head up to see and Ohno leans down to kiss him, telling him everything.
Spring surrounds them on all sides.
***
Theirs is the most beautiful love story. Ohno hasn't managed to paint it yet. But with Nino's help, he feels like he can do it.
Pairing: Ohno/Nino
Word Count: ~1,200
Summary: Ohno's an art student and Nino's a music student and together they've made beautiful things.
Notes: This starts off with the first drabble I wrote for the Ohmiya contest. And Ohno's mind more or less wrote itself? I can't decide if this is fluff or something more serious. You'll have to tell me!
It's the last dregs of summer. The trains run packed with laughing teenagers and families taking advantage of the passing breaths of freedom. A tangerine glaze is in the air, languid and humid.
Ohno's standing in between a young woman and a salaryman, watching the buildings pass by through the gaps between bodies. He's not really seeing it. In his head, he's trying to figure out how to paint the movements of a dancer in the hues of summer.
The painting is moving in his mind when the sway of the train brings him close to someone. He murmurs an apology. The bodies on all sides don't let him move away, and he's so close to the other they're rubbing elbows. Ohno looks up.
Closed eyes are illuminated and hidden by the dappled sun. It's a young man about Ohno's age, with slender shoulders and a long, thin face sheened slightly with sweat. There's a guitar case hung over his shoulder and blunt fingertips are playing notes on the strap. A quiet voice fits their rhythm and Ohno realizes that the young man is singing along, softly, "Dah, dah, dah..."
They're pulled away from each other, but Ohno sees the young man on the train again and again. It takes a while for Ohno to realize that the dancer in his head is moving to the tune of that voice but one day, finally, he says hello.
"Nice to meet you," the boy had said as an answer to Ohno's slow, awkward, kind of crazy, "Hello. I've seen you on the train. Every time you started singing there was a painting in my head and--"
The boy had said, "I've noticed you, too."
Ohno's an art student and Nino's a music student and together they've made beautiful things. The seasons move from the orange-purple swirls of late summer clouds to the pale blue bare branches of winter. Ohno can't help but see all his surroundings in the dabs of paint on the canvas. He always has but he had never been able to bring it together like this, before Nino.
He has never believed in muses, but that's what Nino must be. When the notes come from Nino's guitar the world emerges from Ohno's paintbrush. Nino's a bright yellow spark of creativity and vivaciousness parting through the dull grey of Ohno's mind.
That's not all. He wants to paint with his fingers on Nino's skin, to kiss and map out the angles of his face with his mouth but he can't. He can't because Nino has a girlfriend and Ohno doesn't want to lose him. He doesn't know what he'd do if he did.
Nino's friends are as beautiful as Nino but all in different ways.
Aiba's a dash of the brightest green. He's the grass of fertile fields or even the jungle with its lions and tigers bounding through it, the powerful muscles of their life moving and sliding underneath their pelts. When Ohno sees him he wants to draw writhing figures because Aiba is sexuality embodied in the green of creation. But Aiba is studying to be a chemist, and when Ohno sees his fingers gentle as leaves on the beakers he knows that a jungle can be as peaceful as it is violent.
Sho is a patch of the steadiest red. It's the color that can balance anything else out and Sho is a steady masculinity, the proportions of his body clean to Ohno's eyes and mind. It's a red that has the possibility of raging but is generally calm and studious. Sho's about to graduate early with a degree in economics and it suits him, a position where he can analyze ever-changing events. Seeing Sho always wants to make Ohno draw powerfully built buildings.
Jun's a thin line of the richest purple. It's the undercurrent of a color that stands out but is invested in making others even more vibrant through its care. Jun is the most serious of them and also the most self-conscious and that makes Ohno give him present after present. The sharpness of his face and his words cover the softness of his personality. Jun is beautiful and makes Ohno wants to draw sweeping landscapes.
It's also Jun that Ohno's most frightened of because Jun knows, he can tell.
"Try," Jun says gently, hands resting on Ohno's shoulders.
Ohno shakes his head minutely. He can't.
If an artist tries to touch his muse like a living thing, it'll disappear as quickly as it came.
It's beginning to become spring. Ohno is walking home and counting every bud he sees on the way. Some of them are already flowering; Ohno wants to freeze this moment when a tree is halfway between being born and being alive. He wants to paint all sorts of things that are impossible to paint but that's where Nino helps him, with his music and his presence and his smile.
Ohno pauses on the street for a minute, pushing his cap back so that the sun can touch his face. Spring is a time for new beginnings.
He's putting his shoes away when he hears the faint strumming of Nino's guitar from the direction of his studio. Nino's had the keys to his apartment for months now. It's not unusual that Ohno comes home to some kind of covered food and sometimes Nino himself.
He frowns. Usually Nino's music is energetic and electric but this just makes Ohno want to paint hanging clouds of gloominess, dark and metallic grey. His chest clenches as he heads down the hall, pausing in the doorway.
Nino's sitting on a high stool by the large windows that had made Ohno buy the apartment. His thin shoulders are hunched over his guitar and he's outlined like the perfect model. But then Nino raises his long face to Ohno's gaze and the sun plays out on his skin like the first time Ohno had seen him in a train, except that this time it catches the dried tears on Nino's cheeks and the redness of his heavy eyes.
"We broke up," Nino says, breaking the silence between them. "It was so stupid." He sounds angry, kind of disbelieving.
Ohno crosses the room, dragging a stool to Nino's side. "I," he starts to say, and then stops. He's never been good with words. He wants to tell Nino he's sorry because he wants Nino's sharp yellow back but it's not just that. He steals a glance out of the corner of his eye and Nino's brows are knit like he's fighting not to cry, his short, thick fingers too tight on the strings of the guitar.
That's when it happens. In the span of a second Nino loses the fuzzy edges of paint that have always been about him in Ohno's mind, made him untouchable because Ohno hadn't wanted to lose him by touching what shouldn't be touched. In the span of a second Nino becomes the most real thing in the room, the edges of his sad face sharp against the background.
Ohno stands up and places his hands on Nino's cheeks. Nino tilts his head up to see and Ohno leans down to kiss him, telling him everything.
Spring surrounds them on all sides.
Theirs is the most beautiful love story. Ohno hasn't managed to paint it yet. But with Nino's help, he feels like he can do it.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 07:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 09:04 pm (UTC)