Cigarette smoke hung in the air, wreathing a still, grey world around him. It dulled the sunshine, only allowing it to penetrate as a vague, washed-out light, treacherous even to be shining on a day when his thoughts were darker.

  Nino would often retreat outside for a cigarette (or two, or three) when he had things to think about. He didn't particularly like thinking - too much of it made you ridiculous, like Aiba, full of ideas and thoughts and concoctions and never-sleeping, never-ceasing thoughts. But then again, too little of it and you'd end up as easily distracted as Ohno. So he tolerated it, when he had the chance, and did it from the private little grey world ringed in smoke.

  Mostly, he'd do it alone. He liked it like that; there was a safety to his quiet, muted personal space and a small satisfaction in the cigarettes. Thoughts were so loud when they were serious, when they surfaced in the midst of the silence, that it was better to be alone. If there was someone else nearby he'd be worried that his thoughts were perfectly readable, trailing from the end of his cigarette as it balanced between two fingers, his chin resting heavily on his hand.

  On occasion, Ohno would join him. It would be just moments after Nino thought he was alone, about to shut the fire escape door to stop the smoke drifting into the building - then he'd be there, standing just inside, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a child caught witnessing something he shouldn't. Nino would let him out of the door with mostly-concealed irritation, offer him a cigarette. They'd smoke in silence, their thoughts not touching in the close space, private.

  Today was one such day. Usually they would smoke in contented silence, and no matter the tangle of thoughts that brought either of them out here they would untangle it alone. It was therapeutic in some way to them both, a quietly private thing they just happened to do together.

  But today there was a charge in the air. Ohno had refused Nino's offer of a cigarette from the packet at first, leaning against the railing awkwardly while Nino had opted to sit on the metal steps, back turned towards him. He wondered with no small irritation why Ohno had followed him if he didn't want to smoke, in full knowledge this was private time he was intruding on.

  He was just finding his comfort again when Ohno joined him on the step. It was cold, a day when the sun seemed as distant as it really was, and he could feel the warmth of Ohno's leg against his on the narrow step, the one thing around him providing heat rather than sucking it away. Ohno smiled, just a little, but didn't say anything, hands wrapped around his arms to stave off the chill air. Nino tried to go back to what he was thinking about, ignoring the too-persistant warmth of another person so far into his personal space.

  They sat in silence for a while, and try as he might Nino's thoughts drifted back to Ohno beside him. His irritation, so typically momentary, had died down now and he was left with just a pervasive feeling of curiosity as to why Ohno was here, braving the cold without a cigarette, without reason. Lighting up another cigarette without comment, he crumpled the empty packet and sent it skipping down the metal stairs, watching it bounce off the edge and into nothingness on the other side.

  Abruptly, he felt guilty for not offering again. It was odd that he could feel guilty about smoking his own cigarettes, when Ohno never bought his own and always "borrowed" from Nino on their trips outside. But in the end there was something nicer, less desperate about smoking together that was worth giving some away. He'd come to quite enjoy their breaks, not feeling as though he had to fill in for the missing conversation, not having to play up to being an idol or being Arashi or even being Nino.

  He held out his cigarette between finger and thumb, gesturing wordlessly for Ohno to take it. Just when it looked like he might refuse again, he reached over and took it, their fingers brushing as it changed hands. For a moment it looked as though he might say something, say something and shatter the peace of their seclusion, break the rules of the game. But he didn't, and the moment passed, and silence ruled again.

  For all his careful observation, his quiet curiosity, Nino was still surprised when it came. He was aware of the vivid warmth of proximity even before the kiss, the curious sudden movement in their mostly still world. It wasn't a passionate kiss, something borne out of surprising, momentary desire or mistaken emotion. Despite his words, Nino had experienced enough of them to recognise the churning feeling, the notion that right now, right now it's alright, but by tomorrow it wouldn't be. No, it was slow and unhurried, checking all the boxes in a determined, methodical manner.

  He didn't -- couldn't -- respond, as though kissing was something that happened to other people, and kissing Ohno was something entirely different altogether, something that had never entered his mind and wouldn't until later, after the moment had passed. It didn't seem to matter; the kiss wasn't forcing anything, wasn't an overture to something more. It was a statement, and Ohno's hand at the back of his neck, fingertips brushing the short hairs at the nape, that was the question mark.

  As suddenly as it had come, it rushed to a finish. Nino saw defense and justification warring in his body language as Ohno stood up, cheeks flushed. He watched as Ohno pulled the fire escape door open and fled through it, the warmth leaving with him.

  In the thinning haze, Nino was left to wonder just how long that had been in coming, how many times Ohno had come out with him and taken away only cigarettes. Suddenly it seemed a burden to be alone, dismal to sit out here day after day hoarding his thoughts. It was words he'd never liked, he reflected, words. The taste of cigarette smoke on his lips spoke volumes, and not all thoughts had to be put into words.