When Ohno finds Aiba, he runs his hands up Aiba's stomach, under the shirt. The touch makes Aiba shudder, his muscles jolting beneath Ohno's palms, arms pulling against the rope that tethers them to the wooden beams.
"Matsujun," Aiba explains.
Ohno hums, understanding. "That wasn't very nice of him."
"No," Aiba agrees.
Ohno's hands have reached Aiba's nipples; he uses his fingernails and watches as another shiver rolls through Aiba's body, from his shoulders down to his hips — watches the skin revealed there, taut and golden brown.
"He said you'd make up for it," Aiba gasps.
Ohno smiles. He will.