#in which obi is a smokejumper

[claudeng80]

Up In Flames 0.5 (Firefighter AU)

Comes before https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339926/chapters/62157340

There are far more comfortable places Shirayuki could spend her afternoon than a folding chair in the equipment hangar. Her office has air conditioning, for one thing. There are decently comfortable chairs. But most importantly, her office is entirely free of arguing Wisterias.

“The whole thing is ridiculous,” Zen grumps. His voice is quiet, because everyone knows the steel ceiling echoes like nobody’s business, but his brother doesn’t bother to moderate his voice.

“You’re just jealous that they aren’t interested in administrators.” Izana grins, and Shirayuki can’t help but think whoever made that decision must have not seen the Wisterias in person.

“That’s not-” Zen breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, audibly deciding to take the high road. “It’s for a good cause, at least.” At the other side of the room a bird shrieks, which sets off one of the dogs.

“That sounds like our cue to go,” Izana answers, unflappable as always. “Please make sure nothing gets out of hand.” He turns, and Zen sighs and follows him.

That leaves Shirayuki alone with a volunteer from the Humane Society, a menagerie of the most photogenic animals available for adoption that they could round up, one very pushy photographer, and at least one shirtless firefighter. “For a good cause,” she reminds herself and walks over to see what she can do to help.

Hisame Rougis, at least, is having a good time. “No, Lulu, I need that,” he coos, gently readjusting the python to free up his hand. Lulu bunches up for a moment, then loops around his bicep affectionately.

“You sure you aren’t looking for a pet, sir?” The Humane Society volunteer has stars in her eyes. Whether it’s at Hisame’s chest, which is, admittedly, nice, or at the thought of getting Lulu a new home, Shirayuki can’t tell.

“What would you say to that, Kiki?” Hisame cranes back over his shoulder, the photographer’s camera clicks like firecrackers, and Shirayuki realizes she’s not the only spectator here.

“No,” Kiki answers and unfolds from her chair. She’s not in her flight suit today, but she still draws eyes in sweats. Her T-shirt is loose, tied off at the waist. “No snakes.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” Hisame purrs.

“You wish, Rougis,” Kiki tosses back. It sounds like a denial, and yet she’s smiling. There’s something going on with the two of them. Shirayuki had thought, since she arrived, that Kiki and Mitsuhide either were dating or were on the way to something, but for the last few weeks-

They’re not talking, and suddenly Kiki’s got the time of day for Hisame. He’s friendly enough, but there’s something just a bit off about him. He’ll go over great in the charity calendar, though, if the photographer catches his smolder through his slightly-too-long hair. “This way,” the photographer reminds him, and Kiki passes beyond his directed gaze.

She stops by Shirayuki. “Did you see yesterday’s photos?” Her outstretched phone shows Mitsuhide grinning, a friendly husky dog’s tongue wrapping around his cheek. “It took them almost an hour to get the picture they were happy with.”

“How did you get a copy? I thought we weren’t going to see anything until the calendar?”

Kiki’s enigmatic smile is all the answer she gives. “You sure you don’t need some help keeping order in here? I’m sure the equipment audit can wait.”

In the distance, Hisame looks just as sad to say goodbye to Lulu as she is reluctant to let go of him. “I doubt Izana would agree.”

Kiki laughs, short but genuine. “You keep a close watch, then, and tell me all about it later.”

It doesn’t seem like there will be much to tell her, really. Everything’s much quieter with the Wisterias and Hisame gone; eventually the dogs back in the storage room stop barking, the photographer is engrossed in her laptop, and the volunteer plops into the folding chair with a relieved sigh. “Oh man, this is going to be the hottest calendar ever. I can’t wait to see it.”

Shirayuki would have to live under a rock to not have heard that people find firemen sexy, but these are all people she knows, people whose tonsils she’s inspected. Or worse. “You think so?”

“Oh yeah! This calendar’s going to sell so well, you’d better get your order in quick.”

She hadn’t really planned on it. It seems kind of unprofessional to have pictures of half-naked men hanging up in her office, even if it weren’t extra weird due to said men being her patients. And something about hanging it up at home feels even worse.

“Send in mister October,” calls the photographer, saving her from having to answer, but the volunteer is still trying to disentangle herself from the folding chair when Obi strolls in on his own. The smile on his face may be charming, but his shoulders are tense. The photographer takes a thorough survey, from head to toe. “Inky and Sue, I think,” she tosses off to the volunteer, who nods and heads back into the storage room.

“They’re not dogs, right?” Obi clutches at his T-shirt. He jumps out of planes and walks into fires for a living. He killed a rattlesnake that got into the building, once. But the sigh of relief he breathes when the volunteer returns carrying two tiny kittens is audible all the way across the room. He reaches out his gloved hands, and the photographer clicks her tongue. His hands freeze outstretched. “Oh.”

His eyes flick to Shirayuki - she may be across the room, but she can’t miss it. Still watching her, he reaches the back of his neck and pulls off his T-shirt. Cloth slides over muscles, then over scars, and it’s all too obvious when the photographer sees it. She stops, she stares, and Obi’s hand comes up to grasp at his shoulder.

It's only because she's watching so slowly that Shirayuki sees blood smear under his finger. "You're hurt!"

That, at least, interrupts the photographer's stare. Obi stares too, for a moment before he too notices the blood. "Just a scratch," he says.

"Let me clean it up for you," she insists, and drags him out into the hallway.

"It's really nothing." He doesn't wave her hands away, at least, as she pulls an alcohol wipe from her pocket and tears it open. "They want wilderness firefighters, they have to expect some of us are going to show off more than just a tan. Nobody trusts a firefighter without a few marks on him." It falls from his lips too easily, like it's something he's been telling himself, and his shoulders curl inward. Skin pulls and folds at the white scar across his chest.

“Maybe the photographer will work with you to find a pose you’re comfortable with.” He stares at her like she’s speaking a foreign language. She doesn’t want to say it outright, but she’s no Izana to get her ideas across with less than half the words it should take. “Something that doesn’t show anything you don’t want to show?”

She can’t look at his face anymore, so she busies herself with the scratch. It really was a minor as he said, and it’s very clean now. His hand comes up to capture hers, gently lifting it off his shoulder. “You mean the chick magnet here, I take it.” His other hand taps the scar.

It’s hard to figure how he means that, whether it’s serious or yet another self-deprecating joke. There’s nothing to do but insist. “I meant anything-”

“It’s all right. This is from a long time ago.” She hasn’t seen this gentle smile on him before. His fingers cradle her wrist like it’s a bird, or something he’ll protect until it’s ready to take flight once more- hopefully he can’t feel her pulse speeding as the moment stretches. “If you’d been there, there probably wouldn’t even have been a scar.”

The equipment hangar door screeches and the volunteer leans out, looking frazzled. She’s still clutching the kittens, which are yowling angrily. “Are you almost ready?”

“Showtime,” says Obi. Gently, he frees Shirayuki’s hand, then rocks to a stand like he’s ready to run. “I’m ready for my close-up,” he calls out to the photographer as he swans back into the room.

Shirayuki watches him go, cupping her hand to her chest.

***

There’s a suspiciously large envelope rolled up in Shirayuki’s office mail. She has a pretty good suspicion of what it must be, but when she slits open the flap she still forces herself to read the letter first. “Thank you for your tax-deductible contribution to the Humane Society . . .” it begins, and something flips in the vicinity of her stomach. It’s here.

The calendar is glossy and printed on good paper- she tries to smooth it flat, where it had been rolled up in her mailbox, but it springs back to a curve. Time and gravity will fix that, once she hangs it up.

If she hangs it up.

Mitsuhide got the January spot, laughing as a very large dog stretches to kiss him. Hisame, in June, looks mysterious and alluring with Lulu staring directly at the camera. Shikito, in August, bends down to fill a water bowl for a beagle puppy.

She hesitates over September. Not that she minds Shuka wielding a hammer assembling some kind of enclosure as two adorable little brown rabbits watch, but she isn’t quite sure she’s ready to turn the page.

“The sexiest yet,” the Humane Society volunteer had whispered in her ear, all but vibrating as they watched Obi pose for the photographer.

But if she turns the page, she’s going to have to have something to say when he asks what she thinks. She’ll have to have an opinion. She’s going to have to tell him he’s sexy.

She’s being silly. Reckless, she flips the page, and there’s Obi’s profile- the photo is from his back, every muscle lit in full definition as he holds a bicep curl pose. On his left arm two tiny black kittens perch, one trying to climb his forearm and the other screaming in his face, and his lip curls in a way she knows he was just about to laugh. It’s so him, and the cats are so cute, and at the same time she can’t stop staring at the details. The line where the tan on his neck ends. The way the light casts shadows from his shoulder blades and every knob of his spine. The hint of another scar just at the edge of the photo, one she hasn’t noticed in person before-

“Oh, they’re here?” Kiki strides into the office without knocking, and Shirayuki slams shut the calendar. Kiki sets Shirayuki’s coffee on the desk, sips her own, thankfully does not say a word about Shirayuki’s crimson blush, and leans over to get a look at the Dalmatian on the cover.

“It just arrived in the mail today. Did you order one?” She picks up her coffee, suppressing the urge to hide it under the desk.

“Please.” Kiki flips open the cover, directly to January. “I bought ten.”

#obiyukibingo22 #firefighter au #fanfic #in which obi is a smokejumper

[claudeng80]

Up in Flames (Firefighter AU)

Obi’s Kevlar jump jacket is hanging on its hook. On the shelf above sit five empty water bottles in a neat line and a handheld GPS unit with its plug trailing off to the nearest outlet. The cubby below is filled from edge to edge with the bulk of his pack. Everything is just as Mitsuhide demands on inspections.

None of it should be there.

She’s been pretending not to eavesdrop on the radio for days, trying not to stare at the map on the wall in the cafeteria wondering where they all are and what’s happening. The Pincushion fire is a big one, bad enough to call for the full squad of smokejumpers- the whole team was supposed to be gone for days yet, and yet somehow Obi’s here. All she can picture is that he’s hurt. And she didn’t know.

Her feet take her straight toward Ryuu and the clinic, down a hallway lit only by the light from under Zen’s office door and out into the courtyard without thinking. She’s impatient, on the point of running but the clatter of steel on rock hauls her up short. Her quarry is much closer than she expected.

He doesn’t exactly jump up to greet her, but he's too tall to hide in a folding chair, no matter how he slouches. Dark spiky hair no helmet can defeat gives him away, as does the rattle of the loose bricks of the fire pit under his boots. He taught Ryuu to make Smores there before the burn ban went into effect..

“You’re okay!” The words come out a bit loud and maybe she sounds a bit too surprised. He looks okay, at least, so the odds of him having been released and not just having escaped Ryuu through the window are increasing.

“When have you known me not to be?” Obi’s still frowning when he leans down to pick up the tool he dropped. It’s a blade-pick thing on a long handle, she doesn’t know all the names yet, and the sharp part is far too close to his foot for comfort. Yes, his boots have reinforced toes, but it’s still dangerous. “The fire shifted east into easier territory, the hotshots can handle it now. Mitsuhide and most of the others stayed to help them out, but he sent me back with Shuka.”

“Is he-” She looks toward the clinic, ashamed that all this time she hadn’t even noticed. She’s been worried about the wrong firefighter. And here her mouth’s so dry she can’t even finish the perfectly valid question- she’s an embarrassment of a medic. Zen should have left her in the bus station where he found her. It’s a vicious spiral she’s looking down before she’s jarred loose by Obi’s laugh.

“Relax, miss, he just put a foot wrong on a slope and went the fast way down through some brush. His face looks like he lost a fight with a tree and he twisted his knee up pretty good, but Ryuu’s already seen him. The worst part will be when everyone else gets back.” His grin turns feral as he holds up the tool he was sharpening, checking the edge of the blade against the last light of the sun. 

It’s only now that Shirayuki notices the firepit isn’t so empty after all. He's set up the fake fire in lieu of a real one, and its LEDs flicker sadly in the hollow. Kiki gave the toy to Mitsuhide as a birthday present at the beginning of the season, and it’s taken on a life of its own. The number of pranks it’s starred in is more than she can count, and she hasn’t even been there for half of them. She’s not sure what it means to him here, but it does make the darkening courtyard just a bit more comforting. The release of her worry and anger hits her all at once and leaves her a little lightheaded, and she sinks into the other lawn chair, which squeaks beneath her weight. 

Obi eyes her suspiciously for a second, then starts tying the safety cover back onto the tool he’d been sharpening. There’s just enough light left to watch him work, looking far too clean and relaxed for someone just back from having parachuted into the path of a wildfire and spent three days in the backcountry. There’s no awkwardness in the way he moves, just his climber’s grace and competence. The sunset turns his skin to gold. He catches her looking. “Do I pass inspection?”

Hopefully the LEDs are faint enough to disguise the burning in her cheeks. “Our new base will be ready on Friday.” She’s got everything ready to go in her suitcase already, but she knows Obi too well to think he’ll do the same. He’ll throw everything in a duffel bag Thursday night and call that packing.

“The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll get Yuzuri off our backs.” The last sliver of the sun disappears behind the distant mountains as he salutes with the now-less-intimidating tool. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She’s been spamming Shirayuki with satellite data layers and soil moisture updates several times a day. They’re being sent north for political reasons; the endangered Olin Maris is finally getting some attention and splitting off a small smokejumper unit for easy access is Izana’s concession. But the details of the transfer don’t make a whole lot of sense. Obi’s qualified, but nobody expected him to be made foreman anytime soon. And four months ago Shirayuki was sleeping rough with nowhere to go, and now she’ll be chief base medic. Zen’s close-lipped about the whole thing. But they’ll do their jobs and keep the Olin Maris safe (on pain of death, says Yuzuri). Just because it’s all suspicious doesn’t mean they can take the responsibility any less seriously.

It gets dark fast once the sun’s behind the mountains, here. Obi leans over the pit and reaches in, and in the second before his hand closes on the light, it illuminates the curves of his arm. She’s seen those muscles haul ridiculous weights of gear, seen Obi hang upside down from impossibly tiny handholds for fun, but somehow here it softens him. By the glow of the evening sky and the flicker of a child’s campfire toy, she can’t look away as the light casts sharp shadows across his cheekbones and lines every eyelash in gold- “I’ve always thought you looked good by firelight.”

Obi blinks at her, and far too slow, she realizes what just came out of her mouth. She just said that. To his face. To a firefighter.

A cicada spins up its song, somewhere out in the dark. Obi blinks, scoops up the fake fire in his hand, and switches off the light. He’s a shadow in a shadow as her eyes struggle to adjust. “Oh, the uniform,” he says at last. “I know, sexy, right? Makes me look very manly. Half the reason I got into the job.”

That’s not what she meant at all. If she had Yuzuri’s gift of speech or Kiki’s confidence, she’d know what to say to him, how to compliment him the right way. It’s not about a uniform or about his job, it’s about him. But she’s only Shirayuki, and she has no skill for this kind of talk. She shuffles her feet, appreciating the darkness that hides her discomfort and ignoring the gentle sounds of Obi moving around. He’s probably going inside.

The yard-light clicks on with an electrical snap, and Obi’s not by the door, he’s right by her side. It’s far too close. “I’ve always thought so,” she adds, startled, and his eyes as he stares down at her match her expression. This close she can see the specks of ash-burns on his face and smell his soap, and his throat moves as he swallows.

She should- she should go make sure Ryuu’s remembered to eat dinner. It’s late. The first step back is easy, but she slows as she reaches the door and looks back. He’s still watching her go. “Good night,” she adds. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. You probably think I don’t notice how much you help me, but I don’t know where I’d be without you. I’m looking forward to going north, because you’ll be there.” And she punctuates it with the slam of the screen door, putting as much hallway between them as she can before he can answer.

#obiyukibingo2020 #firefighter au #in which obi is a smokejumper #BINGO #at last #thank you sabraeal for last-minute beta reading #fanfic