Your comment has made me so happy. Happy. In my soul.
Somehow Nino's scandal is more awful than Aiba's was. Nino's pictures were so much more innocent and Nino loved—still loves—the girl in them and yet the fans have turned completely against him. Nino is breaking his heart for the fans and the fans don't even care. Sho understands why, of course, and he knows that it will be over soon and things will go back to normal. That doesn't make it any less terrible to sit with Nino below the stage—miles away from being able to have a cigarette—and know that Nino knows the fans are not going to love him when they get out there. Nino is jittery, twitchy, and so sad in a place he won't show.
Sho has known Nino for years. Nino in pain won't say a word. Nino in despair will always have a smile.
Sho can't be like that. He can't be like Ohno and give Nino silent, inexhaustible strength. He can't be like Aiba and carry a real smile in his pocket to give just to Nino. He can't be like Jun who can hit Nino until Nino feels better. Sho can't give him Noriko and he can't give him the fans.
They still have time while the last of the lights are set and the last minute details before standby are put into place. "Nino," he says, and takes Nino by the hand.
Nino grins over at him. "Gay," he says cheerfully, tapping out a familiar rhythm in Sho's palm as he fits their hands together.
"Come here for a minute," Sho says, standing and pulling Nino up with him.
"Oh, no," Nino mourns as he follows.
They can't go far; they have to get to standby soon. Sho only takes Nino into the corner behind the wardrobe racks. Even in that short distance he can feel the restlessness of all of Nino's movements. Their joined hands swing from side to side and Nino's got an extra beat in his steps, moving double time in the distance of a single step. When they come to a halt, Nino's body has a little sway in it, never still. It's not Nino's normal pre-concert fidgeting.
He knows Nino won't talk about it and that this is Nino's way of letting it out. He still can't stand it. Sho is not that type. "Come here," he says, dropping Nino's hand and holding out his arms.
"No way," Nino balks.
Sho has known Nino for years. He drags him close by the scruff of his neck and pushes his dark, little head down to rest against his shoulder. "Quit being a pest," he tells him against his ear.
"You started it," Nino reminds him even as he settles against him. Still thrumming inside with unnatural energy that sparks painfully against all the places Sho is touching him.
It's not the first time he's wanted to say 'screw this' about a live. It's not the fist time he's wanted to cover his ears and close his eyes and for a minute pretend that he's somewhere else. It is the first time he's wanted to take one of the others with him, though. It's not the first time he can't do anything about it, either. "I'm sorry," he says and feels Nino stiffen. "Don't," he says immediately and then, "don't," more softly.
Nino doesn't. Nino sighs and doesn't say anything, his fidgeting feeling miserable and disappointed.
Sho can't cover his ears and close his eyes and escape—it's not the sort of person that he is even if he could. But this is Nino. Sho slides his hands up from the back of Nino's neck and smooth over his ears. "Close your eyes," he says just before he covers them. He tucks Nino's head under his chin so that if Nino's eyes do open all he will see is Sho's arms and Sho's chest and maybe their feet, standing together on the dark floor. Sho closes his own eyes and rests his forehead against the top of Nino's head. He can hear Nino breathing and he matches his own to it, listening to it becoming longer and deeper.
They only have a minute but somehow it seems like longer. It feels like enough time to catch their breath.
("Me next, please," Ohno's voice interrupts just before Sho feels the heavy thunk of Ohno's head finding a comfortable place somewhere between his shoulder blades.
"Get your own Sho," Nino tells him.
"GET TO STANDBY," Jun yells at them.
"Me after Leader," Aiba whispers in the middle of their first song.)
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Date: 2009-07-23 09:57 pm (UTC)Somehow Nino's scandal is more awful than Aiba's was. Nino's pictures were so much more innocent and Nino loved—still loves—the girl in them and yet the fans have turned completely against him. Nino is breaking his heart for the fans and the fans don't even care. Sho understands why, of course, and he knows that it will be over soon and things will go back to normal. That doesn't make it any less terrible to sit with Nino below the stage—miles away from being able to have a cigarette—and know that Nino knows the fans are not going to love him when they get out there. Nino is jittery, twitchy, and so sad in a place he won't show.
Sho has known Nino for years. Nino in pain won't say a word. Nino in despair will always have a smile.
Sho can't be like that. He can't be like Ohno and give Nino silent, inexhaustible strength. He can't be like Aiba and carry a real smile in his pocket to give just to Nino. He can't be like Jun who can hit Nino until Nino feels better. Sho can't give him Noriko and he can't give him the fans.
They still have time while the last of the lights are set and the last minute details before standby are put into place. "Nino," he says, and takes Nino by the hand.
Nino grins over at him. "Gay," he says cheerfully, tapping out a familiar rhythm in Sho's palm as he fits their hands together.
"Come here for a minute," Sho says, standing and pulling Nino up with him.
"Oh, no," Nino mourns as he follows.
They can't go far; they have to get to standby soon. Sho only takes Nino into the corner behind the wardrobe racks. Even in that short distance he can feel the restlessness of all of Nino's movements. Their joined hands swing from side to side and Nino's got an extra beat in his steps, moving double time in the distance of a single step. When they come to a halt, Nino's body has a little sway in it, never still. It's not Nino's normal pre-concert fidgeting.
He knows Nino won't talk about it and that this is Nino's way of letting it out. He still can't stand it. Sho is not that type. "Come here," he says, dropping Nino's hand and holding out his arms.
"No way," Nino balks.
Sho has known Nino for years. He drags him close by the scruff of his neck and pushes his dark, little head down to rest against his shoulder. "Quit being a pest," he tells him against his ear.
"You started it," Nino reminds him even as he settles against him. Still thrumming inside with unnatural energy that sparks painfully against all the places Sho is touching him.
It's not the first time he's wanted to say 'screw this' about a live. It's not the fist time he's wanted to cover his ears and close his eyes and for a minute pretend that he's somewhere else. It is the first time he's wanted to take one of the others with him, though. It's not the first time he can't do anything about it, either. "I'm sorry," he says and feels Nino stiffen. "Don't," he says immediately and then, "don't," more softly.
Nino doesn't. Nino sighs and doesn't say anything, his fidgeting feeling miserable and disappointed.
Sho can't cover his ears and close his eyes and escape—it's not the sort of person that he is even if he could. But this is Nino. Sho slides his hands up from the back of Nino's neck and smooth over his ears. "Close your eyes," he says just before he covers them. He tucks Nino's head under his chin so that if Nino's eyes do open all he will see is Sho's arms and Sho's chest and maybe their feet, standing together on the dark floor. Sho closes his own eyes and rests his forehead against the top of Nino's head. He can hear Nino breathing and he matches his own to it, listening to it becoming longer and deeper.
They only have a minute but somehow it seems like longer. It feels like enough time to catch their breath.
("Me next, please," Ohno's voice interrupts just before Sho feels the heavy thunk of Ohno's head finding a comfortable place somewhere between his shoulder blades.
"Get your own Sho," Nino tells him.
"GET TO STANDBY," Jun yells at them.
"Me after Leader," Aiba whispers in the middle of their first song.)