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Aiba liked the way Ohno twirled pens. He threaded the sleek instrument through his long fingers like water through a strainer, the pen becoming fluid in his talented hands even as it stayed a rigid cocoon for its heart of ink.
To Aiba, Ohno could do anything. He could balance baseball bats on his chin, eat food from the Taisho era with nary a stomach twinge, and make pliable clay into solid sculptures. Ohno turned ink into masterpiece portraits. He even managed to make Arashi dance like him with his choreography, though Aiba always needed extra help learning the steps.
"Leader’s amazing," Aiba sighed longingly one day when Nino had come over to his place. "I wish I could do as much as he can."
"Both of you are freaks who deserve each other," Nino said, licking his beer mustache off. "Space man and miracle boy. When are you gonna confess? It's been years."
"When I can twirl pens like he can," Aiba replied.
"So, never," Nino groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You’re driving me nuts with this ‘will-I-won’t-I’ nonsense, you know.”
“I can’t!” Aiba said defensively, tapping his fingers on the low table between them. They were in Nino’s apartment, sitting on the floor with Wii steering wheels between them. Mario Kart flashed on the screen. “I have a goal, okay?”
“What if I got you a twirling pen manual? Or a sensei? Because I need you to stop,” Nino replied, picking up his steering wheel. “I’ll run you off the road.”
“Don’t be rude, Yoshi,” Aiba complained, pulling his wheel towards him with two fingers. “You’re supposed to be helpful. Teach me how to do this!”
“Who says I can?” Nino said, flicking through the character screen. “Anyway, figure it out yourself. It’s your goal.”
“I’ll ask Sho-chan,” Aiba sulked, flipping through the character menu until he landed on Princess Peach. “Sho-chan will teach me and Leader will love me and you’ll feel sorry you didn’t help me. MatsuJun will do the speech at our wedding and you’ll just have to deal with it.”
“I think I’ll live,” Nino replied, “especially since I’m going to kick your princess ass back to Bowser.”
-----
“Aiba-chan,” Ohno said sleepily in the Shiyagare green room. He was curled up on the couch with the blanket that Sho had given Aiba for his birthday. “Do you think if I ask Sho-chan he’ll give me one of these too?”
“Yes,” Aiba said, throwing himself onto the couch next to Ohno. He inched closer, pulling some of the blanket over him and leaning his side against Ohno’s hip. “Maybe you can get the same color and we can match.”
“Do you think MatsuJun is ever going to take his yoga mat out of here?” Ohno asked, cuddling closer to Aiba. “I tripped on it again.”
“Do you think he forgot about it?” Aiba took a pen out of his pocket, twisting it between his thumb and index finger. “I think he has another one at home. I’ve seen it, it’s blue. This one is green.”
“It’s been more than a month,” Ohno whined quietly even as his eyes fell shut. “It’s in the way.”
Aiba patted Ohno’s side soothingly, watching his face fall slack into sleep as Aiba began to flip the pen between his fingers.
-----
“Your mat,” Aiba said to Jun when they passed each other in the hallway, Aiba heading to makeup and Jun returning.
“Not you too,” Jun responded before disappearing into the greenroom.
-----
“You’re getting better at that,” Sho nodded at Aiba with a smile, his eyes flicking to the pen in Aiba’s hands. The stylist was working mousse through Aiba’s hair, so Aiba was taking the time to practice.
“I’m not very good at it yet,” Aiba said with a shrug. “Sho-chan, you can do this, right? You should teach me.”
“It’s not really something I can teach,” Sho said sympathetically. “You’ll just have to get it on your own.”
-----
When Aiba had a goal, he liked to be prepared for his journey to reach it. You’re not going to get anywhere without having the proper tools, after all.
He stopped by a stationery store on his way home from work, finally choosing a few pens that were light-weight but sturdy. Five different pens in five different colors, his lucky colors.
“I like those pens, Aiba-chan,” Ohno said in the VS greenroom the next day. “Are you learning to draw?”
Aiba looked at the pen in his hand, seeing it in a new light. “Will you teach me?”
“You just have to try,” Ohno said encouragingly.
Aiba threaded the pen between his fingers and closed his fist tightly, so tightly his knuckles turned white.
-----
“Nino,” Aiba yelled the moment Nino picked up the phone, “Nino, guess what!”
“You found a real-life King Slime and you want me to come and kill it for maximum XP,” Nino replied lazily, keeping his phone between his ear and shoulder as he pressed buttons on his Playstation controller.
“I twirled the pen!” Aiba's voice was breathy with excitement, and Nino could see his expression in his mind's eye: his smile threatening to crack his face in half, his eyes tight underneath a rose bush of smile lines.
"Now will you confess?" Nino said crabbily, narrowing his eyes at his TV screen. Nino was the best level grinder in Johnny's, but that didn't make Final Fantasy an easy franchise.
"Maybe," Aiba said thoughtfully. "I have to get MatsuJun to get his mat out of the green room first. Then maybe learn to draw."
Nino paused his game.
"You're making more excuses. You've been doing this for years, Aiba-kun. First it was waiting until you moved out of your parents' house. Then until Leader did. It’s been excuse after excuse for not telling him, and eventually you’re going to run out of time. He won’t be there.” The harsh tone of his voice echoed in Nino’s ears even as he spoke the words, but he had watched Aiba run away from his feelings for years.
Aiba stayed quiet on the line for a very long moment.
“Okay,” he breathed out finally, “I’ll tell him.”
-----
Aiba had always struggled with Ohno’s choreography, and lately they had let Ohno choreograph more and more of their dances. It meant that he and Ohno stayed behind in the studio together, going through the motions until Aiba got it. Sometimes Ohno would put his hands on Aiba’s hips and move him physically through what he wanted, and every time Aiba felt Ohno’s long fingers rest on his rehearsal shorts, a thrill ran up his spine that made him shudder. While Aiba worried when Sho overworked himself, he loved when Sho was too busy to be there for remedial dance rehearsals with Ohno; it became their time alone together.
It was dark that Wednesday night when they stepped out of the office. “I didn’t know it was going to rain tonight,” Ohno said, peering up at the cloudy sky. “I hope it doesn’t get too bad.”
Aiba could only look at Ohno from behind, watching him step just beyond the blue awning in front of Johnny’s, outlined against the bushes and the quiet street.
“I love you,” Aiba blurted, his bangs falling into his eyes. “I’ve loved you for years, but…” he trailed off. “I wanted to be someone you could be proud to love.”
Ohno turned to look at Aiba, and for the first time since they were gathered on that godforsaken airplane heading to Hawaii all those years ago, Aiba couldn’t read his expression.
“Aiba-chan,” Ohno replied quietly, “there’s no one I could love more than you.”
-----
They held hands as they walked into rehearsal the next day, Aiba smiling brightly at Nino’s catcalls. Ohno let go only when it was time for rehearsal to begin, making Aiba miss the feeling of his fingertips resting against the back of Aiba’s hand. It was a different sensation to hold hands with Ohno now, different than when he just used to watch him twirl pens and wish – Ohno’s hands were still elegant and capable of producing beautiful things, but now Aiba didn’t have to yearn for them anymore. He could watch them trace shapes in the air and know that later those same hands would be in his.
Aiba got all his dance steps right that day, and went home with Ohno that night early enough that the sun still shone pastel through his living room window, painting Ohno’s skin with shades of sherbet.
“I love you, Oh-chan,” Aiba said happily as they curled up under the blanket Sho gave him, toes touching.
“I love you, too,” Ohno replied, and the warmth that spread through Aiba like liquid sunlight made him realize he would never tire of hearing those words.