[Arashi] [Ohmiya] Hope is a waking dream

[Title] Hope is a waking dream
[Author] honooko
[Rating] PG-13
[Notes] I've had this sitting around for a bit and been poking at it, so. Ohmiya fluff! Warning for epic run-on sentences.

He kissed Nino softly, relishing in the feeling of Nino's fingers tightening on his elbow as the kiss deepened, quiet noises leaving his throat with every breath as they pulled apart. Ohno smiled against his lips and pulled Nino closer.

"Oh-chan?" Nino said. "Are you listening?"

Looking up, the imagined scene vanished before his eyes until nothing remained except a slightly perturbed Jun's face directly in front of him.

"I know you're tired," Jun commented blandly, "But we would actually like to know your opinion at some point."

Ohno's world was one of half-reality, half-fantasy. Sometimes he wasn't even sure which one he was in; the edges blurred together into a fuzzy sort of mixed-up story where things happened that never happened, or he said things he never said. It was part of the reason he didn't talk much; he'd bring up things he was sure the others would remember, only to have them laugh at his off-kilter "joke". Ohno's mouth would close and he'd frown, realizing that the incident he'd referenced had never really occurred.

Nino made things that much more confusing; Nino had a habit of responding to Ohno's non sequiters by playing along, and it wasn't until five or ten minutes into the conversation that Ohno would realize they were making something up. As the years went by, Ohno lost track of the moments between them he'd imagined. Inside his mind, he knew what Nino's smile tasted like; he knew how Nino looked after a good tumble (soft and smug, the flush not yet faded from his skin); he knew the kinds of things Nino whispered against his skin when he knew no one else was listening. But the truth was that he and Nino were friends, and only friends. All the details Ohno could draw up were figments of his imagination.

~

Sitting in a booth of a bar, pressed up against Nino's side, Ohno was painfully aware of how different his two realities were. Nino didn't drink much, but today he'd agreed to a beer with Ohno after work. Ohno could feel Nino's warmth through his clothes; in his head, he could almost feel the bare skin beneath it.

"Oh-chan," Nino said, propping his head up on one hand and giving him a fond smile. "Are you still here?"

Ohno felt like he'd been here before; he felt like he'd seen Nino slowly empty his glass, giggling as the alcohol left him warm and sleepy. Ohno felt like he remembered kissing Nino here and tasting the beer on his tongue.

"I'm here," he said, blinking away the memory-that-wasn't. Nino tilted his head, still perched on his hand, and while his smile didn't fade, it did seem to turn wistful and melancholy.

"Sometimes," Nino said, but he never finished the statement, taking another sip of his beer instead.

Ohno had seen him do this more often as of late; in the real-reality, not the confusing one of his imagination. He wasn't sure what to make of the expression that crossed Nino's face. It always felt like Nino was holding himself back from saying something, or as though he was expecting Ohno to say something for him.

"Nino," Ohno said, closing his fingers around Nino's wrist. "Nino, I—"

"I'm going to get a smoke," Nino cut him off, standing and pulling from Ohno's loose hold. "Back in a few."

Ohno watched him leave, picturing himself following and sharing a stick with Nino, each of them taking turns with the cigarette until there was nothing left but the filter and the indirect kisses shared between them.

~

The next morning, Ohno stumbled through the door into the studio. He'd dreamed the night before about sleeping, but in his dream he was curled around Nino's back, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. His nose had been pressed against the nape of Nino's neck and he could smell the shampoo his mother bought. Ohno started to wake up just as Nino was shifting against him, and he tightened his arm around Nino's waist and hummed into his hair.

And then he'd woken up again with his arms curled around a pillow instead of Nino's chest.

"Morning," Nino called across the room as Ohno shuffled in. He gestured at the chair next to him, and Ohno slid into it with a soft puffing sigh. Noticing the sound, Nino leaned sideways, nudging Ohno with his shoulder. Ohno let his head fall, resting against it and immediately sending that warm wash of familiarity over him.

"M'sleepy," he murmured, still too tired to determine which feelings were real. Nino smiled, although Ohno didn't see it, and turned his face against Ohno's hair. Ohno drifted into a half-sleep, his hand settling on Nino's knee.

In his dream, Nino's hand landed on top of his, twisting their fingers together until Ohno wasn't sure which digit belonged to whom, and it no longer even mattered.

~

At lunch, Ohno eyed Nino's bento with great interest; he'd long since finished off the best bits of his own, and Nino seemed distracted at he ate his. He'd barely eaten any, and even when he did lift his chopsticks to his mouth, it was with such absent-minded slowness that Ohno started to wonder if Nino had forgotten he was eating in the process.

"Nino," Ohno said, his eyes focused on the piece of teriyaki Nino was cutting into a bite-sized piece. "Hey, Nino."

Nino didn't answer, still staring off into space. Something appeared to occur to him suddenly, because his chopsticks once again stopped halfway to his mouth, hovering in space. Licking his lip, Ohno decided that it really would be a shame to let the teriyaki go cold before anyone got to enjoy it, so he leaned forward and ate the food off of Nino's chopsticks.

Nino was pulled from his thoughts instantly, and he stared at Ohno chewing the food he'd stolen with an expression of pure astonishment. Sheepishly, Ohno realized that while he and Nino had certainly shared their lunches before, Ohno had never stolen bites directly off Nino's utensils.

Probably.

"I was going to ask," Ohno whined by way of defense, "but you didn't answer me."

"...Right," Nino said, shaking his head as though to dislodge a thought from his brain. "If you want the rest, it's yours."

"You're not going to eat it?" Ohno asked, frowning. "You should, we won't get dinner for ages."

"I'm not hungry," Nino said, putting the bento in Ohno's lap. Ohno's frown deepened; Nino never ate enough. Sho and Jun were always coaxing him into finishing a meal or having a snack with them rather than attempting to sustain himself purely on milk buns and cigarettes.

"You should eat," Ohno repeated. He picked up some food on his chopsticks and held it out to Nino. "Here, I'll feed you. Ahn~!"

Nino's mouth fell open automatically, likely out of surprise, but Ohno took the chance to force-feed him the bite of teriyaki. Nino chewed slowly, his expression still confused despite his compliance.

Ohno fed Nino the rest of his bento, earning a few sweet smiles for his trouble, and then decided that even if he'd never done this before, he was going to try and do it again.

~

They walked to the train station together after work sometimes; they took different trains, but it was nice to have a companion most of the way. They talked about lots of different things: the next shooting of a show, the terrible joke Nino's mother made the day before, the hilarious face Jun had made when he threatened to start painting Ohno's fingernails to cover up the bits of clay and resin stuck underneath them. Ohno loved the easy friendship between them; he loved how simple and unconditional Nino's friendship was. He never had to think about it or try to be funny or interesting; Nino laughed and smiled whether Ohno meant him to or not.

Ohno reached out impulsively, linking their arms as they walked. Nino laughed again, adding a skip to their movements and singing the 'lalala's from 'Your Song'. Ohno giggled, using his hold on Nino's arm to slow him down again, leaning heavily on his side as his laughter left him dizzy.

"You're cute," he said, grinning brightly. To his delight, Nino ducked his head shyly. They pushed through the gated entrance to the train platforms, unlinking their arms long enough to pass single-file. As soon as they were clear, Nino grabbed Ohno's hand, linking their fingers together tightly.

"Shut up," he said without much heat. "That's the kind of thing you say to your girlfriend, not me."

"Nino could be my girlfriend," Ohno teased back. "My mom would be really happy."

"Okay then," Nino said, his tone suddenly firm. "If I'm your girlfriend, then you owe me a goodnight kiss."

"Do I?" Ohno asked. He'd kissed Nino before, of course. Hadn't he? He remembered doing it, and he was fairly sure at least one of those times they'd both been considerably intoxicated, so that was probably a real memory. But the look on Nino's face seemed to say something different: he looked like he was pushing a line, testing a theory; he looked like he thought Ohno would refuse.

"If I'm your girlfriend," he repeated, although he sounded much less sure.

Ohno thought absolutely nothing of leaning forward and kissing Nino gently on the cheek; it felt like a gesture he'd repeated hundreds of times, or at least thought about. Nino's hand tightened around his at the moment of the touch and Ohno found himself suddenly thinking that maybe this moment meant more than he thought it did.

"Goodnight," he murmured against Nino's cheek.

"'Night," Nino answered. He sounded disappointed; Ohno wasn't sure why.

~

Sometimes Ohno thought about what it would be like if Nino followed him home; he imagined Nino's shoes in the entryway, Nino's feet clad in the spare pair of house slippers. They'd heat up the dinner Ohno's mother left in the fridge for them and share from each other's plates. Ohno would lead Nino upstairs and offer him pajamas before they curled up together in Ohno's bed, sleep pulling at the edges of their minds and murmuring softly to each other until they drift off.

But that was in his imagination, and he knew better than to hope for it to be real.

Which was why he was so surprised when not half an hour after he got home, the doorbell rang. Ohno opened the door and found himself face to face with a slightly anxious looking Nino.

"Hi," Nino said quickly before Ohno had even thought to greet him. "I need to ask you something."

"Um," Ohno said, "okay?"

"When you said I could be your girlfriend—" Nino started, before stopping as though reconsidering his statement halfway through. "That wasn't a proper kiss."

Ohno blinked.

"What?"

"That wasn't a proper goodnight kiss. I demand you do it right," Nino insisted. Despite his firm tone, Ohno noticed his ears turning a bright rosy pink. Ohno registered his words a few seconds later; a proper kiss? A real kiss? Nino was asking for, and had been asking for, Ohno to kiss him.

He wanted Ohno to kiss him.

Ohno almost pinched himself; this couldn't be real. This obviously wasn't real. He'd fallen asleep without noticing, that was all. He was probably face-down on the couch, dead to the world, imagining the slightly hopeful, nervous glances Nino was shooting him. His mother would shake him awake any minute now—in which case, he had every reason to make this dream worthwhile.

Ohno stepped forward, curled one hand around the back of Nino's neck, and pulled him into the kiss.

It was heady; Nino's arms immediately wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. Ohno could smell stale cigarettes and sweat on Nino's skin, and taste the chapstick Nino had snatched from Jun on his lips. He could feel all the places where their bodies bumped into each other: shoulders, hips, one of Nino's knees. There was so much to keep track of, to commit to memory, Ohno was momentarily dazed just trying to feel everything at once. Nino's mouth was doing sinful, filthy things against his; the kiss felt suddenly desperate, like Nino was trying to get everything he possibly could from this single moment.

They pulled apart for air, and Nino ducked his head to rest on Ohno's shoulder.

"Nino," Ohno said quietly. "Nino."

"Shh," Nino replied. "Just—let me stay like this for a while."

"My mom is going to wake me up soon," Ohno said apologetically. "Sorry."

"…What?" Nino said, confusion evident in his tone.

"She'll wake me up," Ohno explained. "She does that when I fall asleep on the couch like this."

Nino lifted his head, staring at Ohno, completely perplexed. After a moment, he put a hand on Ohno's forehead as if checking his temperature.

"No fever," Nino said, biting his lip. "That just leaves temporary insanity, I guess."

"What?" Ohno said, blinking. "Wait, why am I crazy?"

"I don't know why," Nino answered. "But you're clearly hallucinating. Or something."

"I'm not hallucinating," Ohno said, frowning. "I'm asleep again. I'm usually asleep."

"…Usually?" Nino clarified. "When you're usually… what?"

"Kissing you," Ohno replied easily, because it was obvious. And true.

"…You—wait, you dream about kissing me?"

"Of course," Ohno said, confusion edging into his voice. This was so strange—Nino didn't usually argue the reality of the situation. Probably because the Nino in his dreams never acted as though this was new, or different. It just was. "I'm doing it now."

"Ohno," Nino said gently. "You're not."

Ohno blinked.

"…Yes, I am," he said.

"No," Nino insisted. "You're really not. I'm… right here." As if to emphasize his point, Nino wrapped one hand around Ohno's elbow, squeezing.

Ohno looked up, meeting Nino's eyes. It felt real; he wanted it to be real, so badly that it almost hurt to think that it wasn't—to think that he was just dreaming all of this. If this was real, that would mean that maybe the other things could be real too, someday. Maybe Nino wouldn't mind. Maybe Nino would want them to be real too.

"This is real?" Ohno said, just to be sure.

"I'm not really this good at imagining," Nino promised, that hopeful look back in his eye.

"No?" Ohno said, pouting. "I guess I'll have to show you, huh."

"I guess so," Nino answered, twisting his hands in Ohno's shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

This was better than a dream, Ohno decided. Much, much better.