Food + Arashi =Retarded Antics Too
Nov. 5th, 2008 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ciirceeSee, I love my flist because it is full of brilliant people who—when pressed—give me awesome prompts. (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blood_opal, I had to scrap what I had of the other fic. It was Not Working. I'm working on it's newest incarnation, though. >.< I blame Nino.) This prompt was from aatash (because subs are love): fandom needs more Sho/Ohno? ♥ How about the two of them on a speshul food date trying out random foods or something.
My first attempt was…well, I wasn't sure it fit exactly but I was so darn happy with it that I just couldn't scrap it—so I made another. And then that one is sort of just crack so I decided to give up and post them. First attempt first, second attempt second.
Fall
It was autumn and Ohno was enjoying it—the nippy little breeze, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the river of Sho's voice winding through his thoughts. He had very little idea of what Sho was actually saying; something about air pollution and photosynthesis and stress and storage sinks. Somehow it all added up to Nishikyo-ku having prettier fall colors than Tokyo, he knew that much. He also knew that Sho knew he was only half-listening. Ohno thought that Sho sometimes talked just because he was thinking aloud. For times like that, he was Sho's favorite audience; never interrupting, never asking an unending series of questions, never not listening.
He didn't mind it. He got to be quiet and still inside, thinking about Sho's voice and the colors and the nearby monkey park where Aiba and Jun were filming the monkeys with their faces that almost looked like little old men, and Nino far away at home sleeping through his monkey-free day-off and the way roasting sweet potatoes smelled so good.
"Sweet potatoes," he said, stopping in his tracks. He knew he wasn't imaging the scent.
"Huh?" Sho stopped walking and talking and in the absence of words and leaves Ohno could hear somebody singing. "Amazing hearing," Sho told him. "Did you want to find them?"
"Yes."
Sho smiled at him. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"Who could say no?" Ohno asked. And then he thought about that. "Jun and Nino," he said, in unison with Sho and he smiled hard enough that his face hurt a little. "Sometimes I think they're bigger idiots than me and Aiba-chan."
"I keep hoping it's a phase and they'll grow out of it."
"What if they don't?" he asked just to see Sho get that mother-hen look on his face. There was something entirely wonderful about Sho when he wanted to fuss over somebody he loved.
Sho narrowed his eyes, looking into the middle distance and obviously considering their absent members. "I don't care if they are legally adults; they're Arashi's babies and if I have to poke food into them then...I'll get Aiba to poke food into them."
Ohno laughed because he couldn't help himself and then laughed harder when Sho started to laugh with him. "He'd do it," he said when he had the breath.
"I know he would!" Sho said around a laugh.
"They'd kill you for it."
"I know that too!"
"You'd do it anyhow."
"Of course I would!"
They were stumbling by the time they found the van with the sweet potatoes, leaning into each other and holding their sides and breathless and still laughing. The man selling the sweet potatoes was actually singing the song, not using a recording, and he was a little off-key. He was also parked a little away from a pile of burning leaves where a woman—probably his wife, Ohno thought—was busy turning foil-wrapped sweet potatoes over on the hot stones. It made Ohno happy for some reason, warmer somehow.
"They're cheaper here than they are at home," he said to Sho as the couple wrapped two of the cooler potatoes in newspaper and Sho handed over the money. "Why would they be cheaper here? It's not ne—"
"Hm!" said Sho, his mouth already full of food. He ticked up one finger and swallowed quickly. "It's actually expected for something like this," he said as they walked away.
He sounded happy and informative, like he had when talking about the trees and that made Ohno even happier still. With that warm, happy feeling bubbling inside of him and the newspaper-wrapped treat hot in his hands he looked over at Sho and grinned and then stopped.
Sho looked so purely good, so much like Sho, talking and talking about something that sounded like economics while being wrapped up all cozy in his red sweater and his jaunty cap with his dark hair spiking out every-which-way from underneath it, pink-cheeked from the cool air and the laughing, holding on to a newspaper-wrapped, purplish-pink skinned sweet potato while red and gold leaves fell all around them, swirling in the wind, and it was so exactly perfect that Ohno wanted to kiss him. And so he leaned forward and up and kissed him.
Oh, he thought. Autumn. He was close enough to smell Sho and Sho smelled like the wind, chill and invigorating; he smelled like the sort of wind that made a person want to run and run and run until they were laughing so much that they had to stop. His mouth was warm, like the leaf-fire and the stone-cooked potatoes and the hundreds and hundreds of words he'd just been saying. Sho took a breath—either to speak or just gasp, Ohno didn't know—and Ohno slipped his tongue into Sho's mouth, following the warmth.
Sho's mouth tasted like butter and salt and sweet potato, rich and bright and sharp. He tasted like the red maple leaves standing out crisply against the bright blue sky. He tasted like the gold slant of the early-setting sun. Ohno had always loved autumn, the brilliant bittersweet tug of the season, caught between summer and winter. He always wanted to hang on to it, to reach out into the world and just hold it in his own two hands.
He wrapped one hand around the nape of Sho's neck, curled the other tight over one of Sho's broad and sturdy shoulders, and kissed him. Kissing him and kissing him and kissing him until his insides were aching for air more than they were for the taste of Sho.
"Uh…" said Sho. He looked startled but pleased, a wide smile breaking over his face. He lifted one hand as though to touch his lips but stopped when he realized he was holding something in it. Still holding something in it.
Ohno looked at the ground. "I dropped my sweet potato," he realized. He looked mournfully up at Sho. He was pretty certain that kissing wasn't going to replace actual food.
Sho ruffled his hand through Ohno's hair, sliding it out to cup his cheek for a moment. "We can share mine," he said.
-------And this part just doesn't quite fit but, as I've said before, Nino tends to ninja himself into anything I write with Ohno and Sho. I think this is because Nino sort of likes to, you know, love on the people he loves.----------
Later Ohno will tell Nino about that butter-salt moment under the red-gold leaves and Nino will write a song about it, playing it for Ohno as he sits on the floor with his head tipped to rest against Nino's knee while the sound Nino's voice and Nino's words—which are not the words Ohno used to tell him, but somehow have the feeling of them—and Nino's favorite guitar recreate that space and time inside Ohno's head. When he asks for it, Nino will give it to him but he'll never record it. Instead, it will become his concert song, a duet for himself and Sho. Sho, flushed from the stage and sweating from the exertion and bright even out of the lights, will tell him that the song was written that way to begin with, talking about scores and scales. So Ohno will kiss him and think Summer.
The best-laid plans
Ohno knows that he hasn't forgotten about a 'meeting' of the Curiosity Team. And it's not just because he never forgets about food, either.
He's not really so much of an idiot that he doesn't notice the way Sho is on some nervy edge, fidgeting and trying to stand still. And even if he were to somehow miss that there is no way at all to miss Aiba's exaggeratedly wide eyes and the absolutely crushed and sorrowful tone of voice as he says, "Sho-chan! I forgot! I can't make it tonight!" He is very, very earnest as he turns to Ohno. "Leader, you'll have to eat a lot for me, okay?"
Something is going on. He's just not sure what is going on and so he puts on his best bemused, don't-mind-me-I'm-not-really-here look and floats along after Sho as Sho jitters his way to the car. He's going to go along with Sho's plan—whatever it is—until he knows if it's bad or good.
The restaurant is not the type of place that the Curiosity Team frequents. They're way too boisterous together for someplace as quietly elegant as this one. The name is in some foreign language (French or Italian, it looks fancy to him, at any rate) and there aren't any menus, just black-clad waiters standing beside tables and reeling off information with absolutely no mention of price. (Ohno thinks it's the sort of place MatsuJun would like and also the sort of place that would give Nino a heart attack.)
He and Sho get a table right away, back in a corner with pretty, exotic plants acting like a screen against the rest of the room. There's a bottle of wine already at their tableside and the guy who leads them to the table says that their food will be out shortly.
"I had reservations," Sho tells him hastily. "This place requires it months in advance."
Ohno very politely pretends that he has not noticed that the table is set for two when they—supposedly—had a table for three and Sho hasn't called ahead to tell them that Aiba isn't coming. "Fancy," he says.
Sho drinks his glass of wine in a manner that is almost impolite enough to be called 'gulping'. Ohno looks at the red depths of his glass. There is something going on and he would much rather be sober for it. Especially if it is what he's beginning to suspect it is.
The food arrives and it's fresh unagi. And fugu. And ginger figs with clove peaches. And a bottle of hot sake is brought to the table, too. Ohno looks at the tableful of aphrodisiacs and then at Sho. "Are you coming on to me?" he asks.
Sho chokes on his wine.
"It kind of looks like you want me drunk and horny," Ohno tells him truthfully.
"No!" Sho coughs desperately. He begins to ramble on about something that would probably be pretty convincing to anybody not sitting at a table full of aphrodisiacs and a bandmate who has been eyeing him up pretty closely as of late. He sort of wonders what Sho was thinking with all of this and then he wonders why Sho is still talking.
Ohno decides that whatever Sho is hoping to accomplish with this elaborate plan it's something that he just can't go along with it. He doesn't really care what Sho expects him to do. "Sho?" he interrupts.
Sho looks sort of terrified as he falls silent. "Yes?"
"Exactly," Ohno tells him and then stands up on his chair and walks across the table to drop himself in Sho's lap.
"Check please!" Sho calls.
blood_opal, I had to scrap what I had of the other fic. It was Not Working. I'm working on it's newest incarnation, though. >.< I blame Nino.) This prompt was from aatash (because subs are love): fandom needs more Sho/Ohno? ♥ How about the two of them on a speshul food date trying out random foods or something.My first attempt was…well, I wasn't sure it fit exactly but I was so darn happy with it that I just couldn't scrap it—so I made another. And then that one is sort of just crack so I decided to give up and post them. First attempt first, second attempt second.
Fall
It was autumn and Ohno was enjoying it—the nippy little breeze, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the river of Sho's voice winding through his thoughts. He had very little idea of what Sho was actually saying; something about air pollution and photosynthesis and stress and storage sinks. Somehow it all added up to Nishikyo-ku having prettier fall colors than Tokyo, he knew that much. He also knew that Sho knew he was only half-listening. Ohno thought that Sho sometimes talked just because he was thinking aloud. For times like that, he was Sho's favorite audience; never interrupting, never asking an unending series of questions, never not listening.
He didn't mind it. He got to be quiet and still inside, thinking about Sho's voice and the colors and the nearby monkey park where Aiba and Jun were filming the monkeys with their faces that almost looked like little old men, and Nino far away at home sleeping through his monkey-free day-off and the way roasting sweet potatoes smelled so good.
"Sweet potatoes," he said, stopping in his tracks. He knew he wasn't imaging the scent.
"Huh?" Sho stopped walking and talking and in the absence of words and leaves Ohno could hear somebody singing. "Amazing hearing," Sho told him. "Did you want to find them?"
"Yes."
Sho smiled at him. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"Who could say no?" Ohno asked. And then he thought about that. "Jun and Nino," he said, in unison with Sho and he smiled hard enough that his face hurt a little. "Sometimes I think they're bigger idiots than me and Aiba-chan."
"I keep hoping it's a phase and they'll grow out of it."
"What if they don't?" he asked just to see Sho get that mother-hen look on his face. There was something entirely wonderful about Sho when he wanted to fuss over somebody he loved.
Sho narrowed his eyes, looking into the middle distance and obviously considering their absent members. "I don't care if they are legally adults; they're Arashi's babies and if I have to poke food into them then...I'll get Aiba to poke food into them."
Ohno laughed because he couldn't help himself and then laughed harder when Sho started to laugh with him. "He'd do it," he said when he had the breath.
"I know he would!" Sho said around a laugh.
"They'd kill you for it."
"I know that too!"
"You'd do it anyhow."
"Of course I would!"
They were stumbling by the time they found the van with the sweet potatoes, leaning into each other and holding their sides and breathless and still laughing. The man selling the sweet potatoes was actually singing the song, not using a recording, and he was a little off-key. He was also parked a little away from a pile of burning leaves where a woman—probably his wife, Ohno thought—was busy turning foil-wrapped sweet potatoes over on the hot stones. It made Ohno happy for some reason, warmer somehow.
"They're cheaper here than they are at home," he said to Sho as the couple wrapped two of the cooler potatoes in newspaper and Sho handed over the money. "Why would they be cheaper here? It's not ne—"
"Hm!" said Sho, his mouth already full of food. He ticked up one finger and swallowed quickly. "It's actually expected for something like this," he said as they walked away.
He sounded happy and informative, like he had when talking about the trees and that made Ohno even happier still. With that warm, happy feeling bubbling inside of him and the newspaper-wrapped treat hot in his hands he looked over at Sho and grinned and then stopped.
Sho looked so purely good, so much like Sho, talking and talking about something that sounded like economics while being wrapped up all cozy in his red sweater and his jaunty cap with his dark hair spiking out every-which-way from underneath it, pink-cheeked from the cool air and the laughing, holding on to a newspaper-wrapped, purplish-pink skinned sweet potato while red and gold leaves fell all around them, swirling in the wind, and it was so exactly perfect that Ohno wanted to kiss him. And so he leaned forward and up and kissed him.
Oh, he thought. Autumn. He was close enough to smell Sho and Sho smelled like the wind, chill and invigorating; he smelled like the sort of wind that made a person want to run and run and run until they were laughing so much that they had to stop. His mouth was warm, like the leaf-fire and the stone-cooked potatoes and the hundreds and hundreds of words he'd just been saying. Sho took a breath—either to speak or just gasp, Ohno didn't know—and Ohno slipped his tongue into Sho's mouth, following the warmth.
Sho's mouth tasted like butter and salt and sweet potato, rich and bright and sharp. He tasted like the red maple leaves standing out crisply against the bright blue sky. He tasted like the gold slant of the early-setting sun. Ohno had always loved autumn, the brilliant bittersweet tug of the season, caught between summer and winter. He always wanted to hang on to it, to reach out into the world and just hold it in his own two hands.
He wrapped one hand around the nape of Sho's neck, curled the other tight over one of Sho's broad and sturdy shoulders, and kissed him. Kissing him and kissing him and kissing him until his insides were aching for air more than they were for the taste of Sho.
"Uh…" said Sho. He looked startled but pleased, a wide smile breaking over his face. He lifted one hand as though to touch his lips but stopped when he realized he was holding something in it. Still holding something in it.
Ohno looked at the ground. "I dropped my sweet potato," he realized. He looked mournfully up at Sho. He was pretty certain that kissing wasn't going to replace actual food.
Sho ruffled his hand through Ohno's hair, sliding it out to cup his cheek for a moment. "We can share mine," he said.
-------And this part just doesn't quite fit but, as I've said before, Nino tends to ninja himself into anything I write with Ohno and Sho. I think this is because Nino sort of likes to, you know, love on the people he loves.----------
Later Ohno will tell Nino about that butter-salt moment under the red-gold leaves and Nino will write a song about it, playing it for Ohno as he sits on the floor with his head tipped to rest against Nino's knee while the sound Nino's voice and Nino's words—which are not the words Ohno used to tell him, but somehow have the feeling of them—and Nino's favorite guitar recreate that space and time inside Ohno's head. When he asks for it, Nino will give it to him but he'll never record it. Instead, it will become his concert song, a duet for himself and Sho. Sho, flushed from the stage and sweating from the exertion and bright even out of the lights, will tell him that the song was written that way to begin with, talking about scores and scales. So Ohno will kiss him and think Summer.
The best-laid plans
Ohno knows that he hasn't forgotten about a 'meeting' of the Curiosity Team. And it's not just because he never forgets about food, either.
He's not really so much of an idiot that he doesn't notice the way Sho is on some nervy edge, fidgeting and trying to stand still. And even if he were to somehow miss that there is no way at all to miss Aiba's exaggeratedly wide eyes and the absolutely crushed and sorrowful tone of voice as he says, "Sho-chan! I forgot! I can't make it tonight!" He is very, very earnest as he turns to Ohno. "Leader, you'll have to eat a lot for me, okay?"
Something is going on. He's just not sure what is going on and so he puts on his best bemused, don't-mind-me-I'm-not-really-here look and floats along after Sho as Sho jitters his way to the car. He's going to go along with Sho's plan—whatever it is—until he knows if it's bad or good.
The restaurant is not the type of place that the Curiosity Team frequents. They're way too boisterous together for someplace as quietly elegant as this one. The name is in some foreign language (French or Italian, it looks fancy to him, at any rate) and there aren't any menus, just black-clad waiters standing beside tables and reeling off information with absolutely no mention of price. (Ohno thinks it's the sort of place MatsuJun would like and also the sort of place that would give Nino a heart attack.)
He and Sho get a table right away, back in a corner with pretty, exotic plants acting like a screen against the rest of the room. There's a bottle of wine already at their tableside and the guy who leads them to the table says that their food will be out shortly.
"I had reservations," Sho tells him hastily. "This place requires it months in advance."
Ohno very politely pretends that he has not noticed that the table is set for two when they—supposedly—had a table for three and Sho hasn't called ahead to tell them that Aiba isn't coming. "Fancy," he says.
Sho drinks his glass of wine in a manner that is almost impolite enough to be called 'gulping'. Ohno looks at the red depths of his glass. There is something going on and he would much rather be sober for it. Especially if it is what he's beginning to suspect it is.
The food arrives and it's fresh unagi. And fugu. And ginger figs with clove peaches. And a bottle of hot sake is brought to the table, too. Ohno looks at the tableful of aphrodisiacs and then at Sho. "Are you coming on to me?" he asks.
Sho chokes on his wine.
"It kind of looks like you want me drunk and horny," Ohno tells him truthfully.
"No!" Sho coughs desperately. He begins to ramble on about something that would probably be pretty convincing to anybody not sitting at a table full of aphrodisiacs and a bandmate who has been eyeing him up pretty closely as of late. He sort of wonders what Sho was thinking with all of this and then he wonders why Sho is still talking.
Ohno decides that whatever Sho is hoping to accomplish with this elaborate plan it's something that he just can't go along with it. He doesn't really care what Sho expects him to do. "Sho?" he interrupts.
Sho looks sort of terrified as he falls silent. "Yes?"
"Exactly," Ohno tells him and then stands up on his chair and walks across the table to drop himself in Sho's lap.
"Check please!" Sho calls.
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Date: 2011-04-27 12:35 am (UTC)These were really cute. Yama and Food is <3^^