#abrupt ending? but I'd like to keep it open and ambiguous

[athyrabunlord]

Yoshi and Riko 16

“If you want, we could go together?” [Prompt List]

A/N: Aaaand I got carried away again XD;;; Loosely based on SIF’s Angel Set, with some Guilty Kiss tooWords: 1,610

“Checking up on Yohane-chan again?”

Riko quickly hides the binoculars under the cloud pillow, ready to deny it. One glance at Mari’s knowing smirk tells her that it’s futile to argue. Sighing, she sheepishly takes out the binoculars again and resumes her observation.

“Now now, don’t ignore me, Rikocchi~! Talk to me.”

Riko scowls but refuses to answer.

“Riko. How is she?”

Mari’s playful tone now gains a soft quality, the same concerned tone that she uses whenever she inquires about their former friend. Riko’s hand subconsciously tightens on the binoculars as she tries to keep her voice from trembling.

“Yocchan is doing alright. She seems to be having trouble with rain, and various odd misfortunes keep happening to her but overall… she’s doing alright. She’s happy.”

The pang in Riko’s heart is somewhat soothed by the sight of the raven-haired girl, grinning and chatting with her two friends.

“That’s good to hear.” Mari gingerly lies down beside her and reaches for the star pillow. Riko glances at her friend, watching the latter whimsically play with the fluffy cushion. Mari then switches her attention to the open book between them, eyes glinting in recognition at the cutesy demon caricature on one of the pages.

“You know, you could go visit her.”

“I can’t,” Riko says immediately, reflexively. She’s toyed with the idea countless times, to just enter the mortal realm and speak to Yoshiko. But no, she must not break the rules. She must not endanger Yoshiko, not when she’s already suffered because of her once.

She cannot sin again.

“Yes you can,” Mari smiles, appearing rather exasperated. She nudges the star pillow against Riko’s face, giggling when the latter blushes at her next words. “After all, you still love her, don’t you?”

“I-I…”

“It’s okay,” Mari’s majestic angel wings spread behind her as she stands up and gazes at her with resolution. “I’ll help you, both of you. Last time… I was only able to help you, while Yohane-chan…”

Riko closes her eyes, unwilling to recall the painful memories. “She’s not one of us anymore, Mari-san. She’s a mortal now. She doesn’t remember me, and she doesn’t have to. She’s perfectly fine there-”

“But you’re not fine.” Mari’s voice is low, half-pleading and half-irate. “You may think her fall from Paradise is your fault, but I’m just as guilty as you. I could not save her then, and if I continue to let you be like this, it would’ve put her efforts to waste!”

Taking a deep breath, Riko also unfolds her angel wings and gently places the binoculars to the side. “…you’re right. I should do something, instead of just moping around. I’ll go see Yocchan and… well, perhaps afterwards, I’ll finally be able to move on.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Rikocchi~” Mari winks, holding out her hand. “You’re going to the mortal realm, ne? It’s where life is full of shiny possibilities!”

Riko returns the smile and places her hand in the blonde’s.

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“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ruby, Zuramaru!”

Yoshiko waves her two friends goodbye as they part ways at the intersection. Humming, she skips down the road and tries not to dance along too. Today is the day! After a long time of searching, she’s finally found the perfect spot to do her ritual.

She knows that she’s different than everyone, that she’s special with hidden powers. She’s a former Angel who fell from heavens, one must have committed a terrible sin and was thus cast out from Paradise!

This is the only explanation for her string of bad luck and her dreams about this exotic realm above the clouds!

No one, not even her parents, believe in her identity as a fallen Angel. While her two best friends are supportive of her, she could tell that they do not believe her either. That’s fine, all of this shall finally come to an end when she opens the portal connecting the two realms!

Her excitement, however, is dampened by the series of misfortunes that delay her journey. A bird that flew by poops on her shoulder; when she goes to clean up the mess in the public washroom, the pipe bursts and drenches her like a rainstorm; after drying herself with a spare towel she always brings in her bag, she stumbles into a deep puddle that she swears wasn’t there moments prior.

“Why does this keep happening to me!!” Though irritated, she is also unnerved and frustrated. Her karma seems to be worse than usual today. Is the divine power really that reluctant to let her achieve her goal?

The ache in her heart, something she’s gotten so good at ignoring, churns fiercely as if to reflect her predicament. Whimpering, she crouches and covers her head with the towel.

“Are you okay?”

Yoshiko wipes her tears away as discretely as possible and pretends to be drying her wet hair before peering up at the stranger. The pretty girl appears to be her age, maybe a bit older, and she has cascading burgundy tresses and a pair of warm amber eyes. She looks oddly familiar, though Yoshiko couldn’t place her anywhere in her memories.

She wants to reply with ‘do I look like I’m okay’, yet she finds herself shrugging. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m used to this.”

The stranger’s inquiring gaze coaxes her to elaborate. “Bad things tend to happen to me. Heh, I’m probably cursed.”

Rather than the dismissive reaction she usually receives, the taller girl simply crouches down beside her. “How so?”

Maybe it is the stranger’s sympathetic voice, or the fact she genuinely sounds intrigued, for Yoshiko finds herself sharing her life story, about her being a fallen Angel, and her theory on opening a portal that connects the two realms.

“Erm, you probably think I’m weird huh?” She folds her arms in embarrassment, unprepared to have the stranger’s complete attention.

“Not at all. I think it’s very interesting. Who’s to say it’s not true?” The girl has a distant look as she gazes at the sky. “So… you’re on your way to open this portal?”

“Yeah. I found this obscure, abandoned park in the woods over there. My instincts tell me that must be the place!” Yoshiko clenches her fists and lowers her head. “But, I’m kinda nervous. Like I said, the bad luck is worse than usual, so maybe something terrible will happen if I really go there…”

“If you want, we could go together?”

Yoshiko blinks at the girl, both startled by her kindness and a strange prick in her mind. Suddenly, images of places she has never visited before flash across her vision, like an old broken movie.

Paradise was infinitely wide, full of countless places still unexplored and unknown to even the most ancient of Angels. Therefore, she considered it an amazing feat that she managed to locate an ethereal garden, where its exotic flowers felt holy enough to purify any onlookers. As mesmerized as she was, she also sensed a foreboding aura and that compelled her to leave the area in haste.

However, she’s been unable to get the garden out of her head and her heart yearned to explore it again to her heart’s content. She was unsettled by that foreboding aura and thus hadn’t acted until now. Finally making up her mind, she sought the opinion of someone she deemed special above all others.

“If you want, we could go together?”

“Are you sure? Like I said, I sensed something off about the place-”

“More the reason to go with you.” The other Angel’s gaze was unwavering. “You shouldn’t go there alone.”

Unable to turn down her crush’s offer, Yoshiko agreed and brought the burgundy-haired Angel to the Secret Garden. They explored the breathtaking place together, admiring its beauty and relishing its soothing ambience. That foreboding aura was nowhere to be felt, for she was so blissful to be in the company of the person she loved, far away from the scrutiny of others.

There, beside a spring of crystal-clear water, she confessed to her amber-eyed companion and kissed her whole-heartedly. Before the other Angel could respond, the water abruptly turned murky and a heavy fog descended upon them. Intangible ropes, seemingly made of shadows, burst out from the fathomless spring and flew towards them.

Yoshiko managed to push her loved one out of the way before she was captured and her senses became muffled. Even then, she could see that the Secret Garden was crumbling and that several Angels have arrived at the scene. She could feel a shiny presence reaching for her.

“No, save Lily! She shouldn’t have to suffer with me!”

She acknowledged what was happening to her. She had sinned after all, so her punishment was to fall, to fall from the heavens and into the mortal realm. This was all her fault, and hers only.

Let her beloved Lily stay in Paradise.

The dark ropes pulled her down into the abyss and she knew no more.

“H-Hey, are you okay?”

Yoshiko blinks, shaking her head and breathing raggedly. “Lily…”

The burgundy-haired girl flinches, her eyes widening. “What did you just say-?”

The overwhelming sensation alleviates like a deflating balloon and, with it, the images vanish into thin air. Yoshiko furrows her brows and rubs her temple. “Nothing. I just… no, it’s nothing. Anyways, you said… you want to come with me. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Those amber eyes are determined and just a little bit hopeful. “You shouldn’t go there alone.”

Yoshiko grins and takes her hand. “Yoshiko. Tsushima Yoshiko. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Riko. Sakurauchi Riko,” the girl’s smile is just as pretty as the one in the fading memory. “Pleased to meet you… Yocchan.”

#anon ask #prompt list bliplet #yoshiriko #yohariko #athyra writes #AngelSet AU #maa this could have more content/details but #this is only supposed to be a bliplet DX #abrupt ending? but I'd like to keep it open and ambiguous #030 I had fun writing this #I could've just written about them going to comiket together but nooo #gotta do a whole new AU OTL #anyway my brain power could only handle one ask today xD;; #will continue tomorrow 0/

[nachtgraves]

Hello! If you're still taking requests could you do 49 w/ jean/nino? I love that pairing and I'd like to see how you write them!

Hey!Jean/Nino .> I have a problem. I haven’t seen any of itsince the anime ended though and rewatching it is my reward for catching up onall the shit I have on hold so I hope I did them justice for my first timewriting them (:

Title: HomeSmells of Cigarette Smoke and Bread // AO3WordCount: 3,280Warnings/Tags: G/PG. post-ep12, time skip, nino deserves all the love, pining. I have a headcannon whereLotta likes to play matchmaker.Prompt: Coming home

Jean’sbeen away for about two weeks now.

It’sone of the longest trips he’s been on, and while he’s called Lotta most nights,he’s often exhausted and barely there. Lotta sends him off to bed or to take amuch needed nap. Nino’s been privy to Lotta’s concerned complaints; he himselfhas received a few texts and calls, though most have been requests to keep theyounger Otus company and watch out for her (in her borderline obsessivelyprotective older brother’s place). But there are times where Jean’s calls andmessages are personalized for Nino, and it’s all Nino can ask that Jean spendthose few minutes of his free time on him, instead of on Lotta or resting up.

It’scoming onto day 16 of Jean’s ambiguous and lengthy business trip and Nino ishousesitting for the Otus siblings. Lotta’s gone to Dowa to see Prince Schwanand her grandfather, who’s been kicking stronger than anyone had thought, butillness is always a cause for concern. She was in a rush to leave and Nino wasmore than happy to be called last minute to take care of things in both her andher brother’s absence.

Themain reason for his employment as a house-sitter is Lotta’s new hobby. In therecent weeks she’s picked up gardening, and Nino is more than adept enough atwatering plants on a schedule. Besides, watching over things is something he’snot a stranger to. Since the attempted coup and Furawau’s secession from theDowa Kingdom, Nino’s had some time on his hands, even with his new job at asmall newspaper company. In those early weeks, up to the recent months, he hadn’tbeen too sure of his place in Bādon, or his place with the Otus siblings.

Ninolays on the couch where he and Jean have fallen asleep a few too many timesafter nights of drinking and stares up at the ceiling. He could go back to hisown small apartment, but the Otus home has a warmth and comfort and something indistinguishablethat his apartment simply lacks. It’s a vague feeling he can’t place but itmakes him quite reluctant to leave.

Thinkingback, he remembers the days when he tried to stay away, remove himself fromJean and Lotta, and how miserably that failed within days. He recalls mopingabout in his apartment trying to convince himself to get rid of his copies ofOtus family photos, and the surprise of Jean knocking on his door and takinghim to the bar they frequented. Jean pointedly getting drunk without Nino’spersuasion and needing an escort home. Lotta’s remarks of missing seeing himaround after they put Jean to bed solidified Jean’s point and soothed thegrowing ache in Nino’s chest.

He’snot sure when, but at some point between the sun sinking between buildings andthe stars shining as bright as they can through city light pollution, he fellasleep. He awakes with a familiar crick of sleeping on a couch. The Otus couchis a very comfortable couch, but it is still not a bed. He very well could haveslept through the night, but he’s a light sleeper. No one was supposed to becoming home, but Nino recognizes the sound of a rattling door handle and amuffled curse.

Gettingup from the couch, Nino tiptoes through the dark and silent apartment, guidedonly by the city light filtering in through the windows. He searches out for aweapon of some sort on his way to the front door, but only finds some ofLotta’s cooking and pastry magazines. It’s as good as anything, so he rolls oneup as tight as he can and hides against the wall that turns into the entryway.Whoever was trying to get in seems to succeed just as Nino’s in position,substitute baseball bat ready in his hands and prepped for a swing. The lightfrom outside the apartment floods the entryway and a shadow stretches out, thehead coming to just in front of where Nino’s standing. He’s about to bringglossy paper to human skull, using the shortening shadow as a reference, whenthe intruder calls out: “Lotta?”

Ninoabruptly loosens his grip on the magazine, letting it unroll in his palm. Thelights flicker on and Jean stands, hand frozen on the light switch as he seesNino.

“Uh,hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come back tonight,” Nino laughs.

Jean’seyes scan Nino from head to toe, lingering on the loosely rolled magazinebefore meeting Nino’s eyes with a questioning frown.

Ninoshrugs. “I fell asleep on the couch and woke up to you coming in – thought itwas a burglar.”

“Soyou grabbed one of Lotta’s magazines.” Jean’s mouth quirks slightly and Nino canonly smile helplessly back.

Jeanmoves from the light switch and Nino follows after him into the living room.Jean drops his travel bag by the coffee table and collapses onto the couch witha heavy sigh. Nino leans against the wall and watches. He’s so used to watchingJean. It’s habit to catalogue every twitch in the blond’s expression and heknows every detail of Jean’s routine movements. He’s familiar with the way Jeansprawls across his couch, head tilted back and arms draped along the backrest.The way he tugs his tie loose, blindly reaches for his cigarettes and lighter.The way his lips close around the stick and how smoke streams gently from hismouth in a relaxed sigh.

Jeanslides his gaze to where Nino’s standing. “Sit down, the couch doesn’t bite.”

“Lotta’sgoing to be mad at you for smoking in here,” Nino responds, but he takes a seatas told.

Jeanrolls his head so he’s got half his face smooshed against the couch but canlook at Nino easily. “Speaking of, where is she?”

Ninotilts his head in surprise. “Did you not know? Your grandfather’s sick and shewas worried so she flew over yesterday. She asked me to house and plant-sit,which is why I was here.”

Jeansits up, frown on his face. “Grandfather’s sick? He called me just a few daysago and seemed perfectly fine.”

Ninojust shrugs. “It’s what Lotta said when she called me, asking me to look overthe apartment while the both of you were gone. Wasn’t expecting you to be backso suddenly.”

“Itold Lotta I was coming back tonight or tomorrow morning though.” Jean’s lipsquirk even more downwards, perplexed. Nino’s just as confused for a momentbefore he remembers that nosiness and plotting behind peoples back for theirown perceived good is a Dowan royal family trait. He hopes his face is asimpassive as ever.

“Maybeshe forgot. In any case, I guess I’m off plant-sitting duties,” Nino says,trying to change the direction of the conversation, “I should head back, it’slate and I really didn’t mean to fall asleep here earlier.”

Jeanshakes his head. “You can spend the night. It’s not like you haven’t numeroustimes before.”

Thestatement is true, but Nino needs to remove himself from Jean’s presence. Lottaplotted to get them alone together for whatever reason but he is not about toruin something he’s already got too fragile of a hold on. He gets to his feetand waves Jean off.

“Yeah,but I have some work to do and all my material is at my apartment.”

Jeanstands as well and Nino’s halted by a firm grip around his lower arm. Nino wantsto pull away, but he also desperately wants to come closer. He settles for notmoving at all and staring at the point between Jean’s brows.

“Haveyou eaten?” Jean asks, his question abrupt and innocuous.

Ninoshakes his head. Jean smiles.

“Thenhave dinner with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

Ninoopens his mouth to refuse but he soon finds himself seated at the Otus kitchentable across from Jean with a plates of rice, pork, vegetables, and, of course,dinner rolls, laid out before them. Jean’s half-finished cigarette smotheredout in the ashtray leaving only a faint trail of smoke. He smiles. There’s norefusing an Otus.

“Whatare you smiling about?”

Jeanpoints his fork over at Nino. The blue haired man just shrugs and busieshimself with eating.

“Nino.”

Thetone and cadence almost resembles a whine and really, Nino’s never stood achance anyway.

“Justthinking,” he replies, and in an attempt to distract the vice-chairman of theinspection department, offers the last dinner roll and the tub of butter.

Jeantakes the offerings but Nino doesn’t get away scot-free.

“Careto share?”

“Howoften are you, or even Lotta, told ‘no’ in terms of getting what you want?”Nino returns.

Jeanpurses his lips in thought and Nino has to redirect his attention to the lastbits of his dinner. The blond eventually replies in slow and measured words asif he is still trying to think of a specific instance. “A fair amount,probably. No different than anyone else, I’d say.”

Ninocan’t stop the snort of amused disbelief that bubbles up his throat and out hisnose at that. He has to cover his mouth with his hand so he doesn’t spray foodeverywhere. When he looks up at Jean he has to consciously decide that theexpression on the blond’s face is categorically a frown and even though hismouth is stretched somewhat close together and forward and his bottom lip isjutting out the tiniest bit and his clear blue eyes that catch the flash of acamera like polished crystals are marginally wider—frowning. The unofficial prince is frowning.

“What?”Jean demands.

Ninoshakes his head and starts clearing up the table. If he doesn’t have to respondhe doesn’t have to attempt to deny Jean what he wants. But Jean, unusuallypersistent at the worst of times, follows after Nino with his own plate, adetermined shadow. Nino presses his lips together in a tight line to preventboth laughter and Jean’s answers.

Jeansighs in defeat and Nino lets a small smile of victory past his guard that Jeancatches, if the narrowed gaze is of any indication and pouting—frowning mouth. Nino really needs to goback to his apartment. He says as much to Jean once the last of the dishes areput away: “I should really go back to my apartment for whatever is left of thenight.”

Jean,leaning against the counter, fixes his gaze on Nino in the way that seems tofreeze all movement from the latter. The blue of his eyes and depth of hisstare fixing the object of the stare in place until the blond allows toindividual to move. Nino leans back against the counter, body twisted towardsJean and awaiting what he has to say.

“Youknow,” Jean starts, head tilting slightly. “You never call your apartment‘home’.”

Ninofrowns, confused by the way Jean has taken the conversation. He’s not sure whatthe blond’s point is and Jean can apparently tell. The blond’s mouth twitchesupwards at the corner he always gets food smeared around and has to lick atwith his tongue or dab at with a napkin. Nino finds it fortunate that Jean’snot as into creamy pastries as his sister and coworkers are.

“Younever refer to your apartment as ‘home’. It’s always ‘apartment’, ‘place’, oreven just bed.” Jean continues, andwhile Nino was distracted by Jean’s thin lips and subtle facial twitches, theblond had apparently come closer to the taller man.

“You’dalmost think that ‘home’ isn’t part of your vocabulary, but—” and now Jean isright in front of Nino, to the point Nino is teased by the warmth of Jean’sbody to the hint of tobacco and ash and smoke—“when you take me or Lotta backhere, you almost exclusively call this place home.”

Jeanstares up at him – those few centimeters Nino has above the blond seem tovanish – waiting for a response. Nino clears his throat and he would try tostep back and create more appropriate space between them, but he’s against thecounter and any movement away would be too obvious.

“Well,this is your home. What else would I call it?” he manages to respond.

Jeanseems to come even closer.

“You’reavoiding the question.”

“Younever asked one,” Nino says.

Hefeels victorious for a moment before Jean blinks and then releases a soft huh.

Jeancatches Nino’s gaze with his own. Nino can’t look away even though he knows hereally should find some sort of escape route. The situation was coming to asplit in the road where one path led onward, peaceful and uninterrupted,whereas the second path fell away into nothingness, the ground cracked andcrumbling and dead. Nino knows that this split is unavoidable in hisrelationship with the blond, that at some point in their time together this splitin the road was inevitable. He could only delay it for so long, and despite hiseffort it seems like he’s run out of back roads, scenic routes, and detours.

“Wellthen, here’s the implied question: why do you never refer to your apartment ashome?”

Withthe blond standing and staring unwaveringly in front of him, barely inchesbetween them, Nino can’t break eye-contact and any excuse or redirectiondisappears from the grasp of his heavy tongue like the wisps of smoke thatcling only as a vague olfactory presence to Jean’s clothes.

“Ihaven’t considered it to be a home for a while,” Nino answers, surprising himselfin the process.

Hedoesn’t know when, but it was likely after the death of his father and Jean andLotta’s parents, probably around when he realized his feelings for the olderOtus strayed from duty to friendship to more. It was a gradual thing, much likethe development of his feelings towards Jean, but also his sister. Nino first adoredher with a reverence brought on by her connection to beloved members of royalty.It was, and still is, impossible to not feel protective of and adoration forthe young princess. Nino’s feelings for the girl grew into a responsibility ofa familial, brotherly nature as his feelings for Jean grew romantic and wanting.

Jeanseems to be just as surprised with Nino’s abrupt concession. But he quicklysmiles and nods, as if he had already known the answer and was just waiting forNino to catch up. Nino wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

“Well,since I know you’re lying about work, there really is no reason for you to notjust spend the night. We have the guest room…” The way Jean trails off impliesthat there’s something he wants to add or suggest. His gaze flickers down thehallway towards the bedrooms and Nino watches the subtle movement of Jean’sthroat as he swallows, preps his following words with a flick of tongue across thinlips.

Ninois almost afraid to ask but he can’t help himself. “Or…?”

“Mybed is big enough for two.”

Ninoisn’t sure if he hears Jean correctly, if his brain has warped the blond’swords to something that belongs in a fantastical, fictional world far removedfrom reality.

“Huh?”Nino so eloquently asks, or rather grunts. It’s really more of a vague sound ofsurprise and disbelief that changes pitch several times within the singlesyllable.

Jeangives Nino a knowing look. “Come to bed with me. Just to sleep.” He grins alittle and adds, “For now.”

Thefact that Jean’s face tinges pink even though Nino can tell the other man istrying to play cool makes him feel better about the fact his face is likelybright red and his dropped jaw is probably very stupid looking. His cool,badass biker image is in shattered pieces at Jean’s feet. But he doesn’t reallycare about it that much right now.

WhileNino still can’t quite regain control over his mouth and ability to speak – stillstunned into silence by Jean’s very blunt flirting, teasing? He hopes it’s theformer – he can nod and follow Jean into the blond’s bedroom, led by his wristin Jean’s firm grasp. Jean only lets him go to change into his pyjamas; a soft tee-shirtand a pair of flannel pyjama pants that are much too baggy on his slender framebut endears him to Nino that much more. With a quick, pointed look, Nino stripsdown to his boxers and pulls on a shirt Jean tosses him from his closet. Ninocan’t help but subtly lift the neck and take a quick sniff, and from the wayJean smirks even with pink cheeks as he crawls into the modestly sized bed, heknows that he was caught.

Hehesitates, but slides into the bed as well. Nino doesn’t know if he should turnhis back to Jean, but when Jean settles on his side facing Nino, he reaches upa hand and grabs at the collar of Nino’s borrowed shirt and tugs him down,deciding for the photographer.

Ninoisn’t sure if he was expecting the brief kiss or not. He’s been going onautopilot since Jean cornered him in the kitchen and his brain is only justcatching up.

Thekiss is brief enough that he almost thinks it didn’t happen, but the way hetries to follow Jean’s mouth after the blond pulls away says otherwise. Jeansmiles and leans back in for another kiss. This one, Nino can close his eyesand enjoy, simple and closed-mouth. He pulls back and lies down fully on thebed facing Jean.

“Wecan talk about this later if you want,” Jean tells him. “I’m exhausted andreally just want to sleep for a few hours.”

“Goodnight,” Nino says and Jean smiles at him before settling in and closing hiseyes, his breaths evening out surprisingly quickly. Nino feels a tug of guiltat keeping the blond awake for so long when he likely had wanted to immediatelyfall into bed upon returning. He can’t quite bring himself to completely regretthe events of the night, however.

Ninodoesn’t fall asleep for a while. He can barely process what’s happened since hewoke up from his accidental nap, much less how he’s ended up in this situation,this position. In Jean’s bed, next to the man himself who is out like a light,face soft and gentle in sleep, body warm and facing Nino. He settles onto hisside, arm bent under his head and lets his eyes drift shut, relaxed. Eachinhale fills his nose with soothing scents of laundry detergent mixed with ahint of salty sweat. Nino falls asleep, more content than he thinks he’s everbeen.

Inthe morning, Nino wakes up alone but the other side of the bed has stillretained some of the warmth from his missing bed partner. He pads out of Jean’sbedroom to see the man grabbing fresh toast from the toaster, one butteredslice already in his mouth and the remains of a cigarette burning out in theashtray on the kitchen table. He’s wearing his glasses, thick rimmed and rectangular,equal parts dorky and adorable.

“Morning,”Jean says when he notices Nino, mouth full of bread but smile still wide as itcan be. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Ninocomes closer and something in him settles at the scent of cigarette smoke andbread.

#ask #ninojean #nino #jean otus #acca 13-ku kansatsu-ka #anonymous #my writing #tumblr fic