While They Wait
While They Wait
Pairing: Matsuba
Rating: G
Word Count: 1331
Summary: Nino does dishes, Aiba dusts, Leader vacuums, and Sho finds something in the couch...
A/N: A prompt from reversemirror! Thanks to augustfai for looking this over for me!
"Turn it the other way, idiot," Nino grunts from over Aiba's shoulder.
"Oh," Aiba says, "Yes yes, I know, I knew that!" His key is three years old but the brassy length of it is still unblemished when he retracts it from the lock. "I so rarely use this thing..."
"I feel like a spy or something," Sho murmurs. Indeed, he's dressed all in black, and Aiba thinks it makes him look rather dashing even though he hasn't had his hair done and his cheeks are naked of makeup. He personally believes Sho-chan is more attractive like this: up close and real, the fine under-layer of an idol.
"This guy can't even open the lock by himself," Nino says as Aiba props open the door. "If you're going to be a spy, get yourself a better partner next time."
"We're spying?" Leader asks as he shuffles in, bumping against Aiba in the tiny entryway of Matsujun's apartment. The earthy smell of his sweat closes around Aiba as the door swings shut behind them, and Aiba scrambles to hit the light switch with his full palm. It doesn't turn on.
Nino sighs, and flicks it with a fingertip.
"What--did a bomb go off in here?" Sho exclaims, pulling his cap off his head and running his fingers through sweat-streaked hair.
Aiba takes a quick glance around. There are ramen cups piled up on Matsujun's coffee table, and several of them have toppled over in an artistic pile to obscure all the latest fashion magazines. A single sock is stuck between the couch cushions (Aiba thinks it looks rather phallic, poking out like that) and there are books of manga, plastic bags, hairbrushes, and lotion bottles in the most random of places.
"Um," Aiba says. "It's a little worse than usual."
"Did we step into some sort of alternate dimension?" Nino's strident voice says clearly from the kitchen. Aiba's not so keen on going in there, not with the way it looked last time. "There is no way this is Matsujun's apartment. Not the Mr. Anal-Retentive. Last time I was here it looked like it'd been through an economy car wash." Nino has reappeared in the doorway, slouched and shell-shocked.
"We have to clean this, don't we?" Leader says mournfully.
Actually, Aiba hadn't been planning on that at all, but the thing he's best at is grabbing onto a good idea and running with it full speed ahead. "Yes!" he says, far more delighted than even he had expected himself to be. A split second thought has reminded him that cleaning Matsujun's apartment is worlds better than cleaning porcupine enclosures (mainly because he won't die) and plus, he has three more pairs of able hands to help him. (He still counts Sho-chan, even if Sho-chan's mother has done every bit of polishing, folding, and dusting throughout his 27 years. Even Leader is better at tidying.)
"But we do, don't we?" Sho says, standing in the middle of the living room as if he might set something off by stepping in any direction. "A surprise party would be impossible in a place like this."
"So, Jun-kun's boyfriend, where's the disinfectant?" Nino says, arms crossed over the bold writing on his chest (his shirt says GROßER MANN, which Aiba thinks is hilarious even if he doesn't know what it means).
When his friends have a purpose, they set to it with a will and a minimum of complaints (though Nino's comment about Matsujun's magazines and his right hand and how he is not touching that shit is pretty funny, and Aiba giggles all the way to the bathroom to wash out his dust cloth) and Aiba is feeling generally good about everything as the ramen cups find the trash can, the phallic sock goes into the hamper, and the manga gets returned to its shelf in alphabetic-numerical order. Really, it's pretty awesome.
"What is this?" Sho says abruptly as Aiba is tripping over the vacuum cleaner. "Wait, strike that, what are these?"
"Oh, that--that's--"
"You keep your condoms in the couch? I should have known," Nino says, peeking from around the kitchen doorway. He'd volunteered to wash the dishes (Aiba had thanked his lucky stars while hedging, "Well, if you want to." "Don't even try, reverse psychology is just going to make your head hurt," Nino had said, arming himself with rubber gloves and an impressively clean dishtowel).
Sho is flipping over a package, and Aiba is grinning around his embarrassment. They're Matsujun's extra-special neon-pink strawberry set, even though Aiba doesn't think they taste a thing like strawberry unless you coat them with syrup. They haven't tried jam yet. "Put those back!" he flails, accidentally whacking Leader as he vacuums. "Oops, sorry, Captain, Captain, are you okay?"
"I'm not sure I'm the U.F.O. in this group," Leader pouts, rubbing at his forehead before trying to whack Aiba back with the cleaner nozzle.
"Sho-chan, that is dirty. I approve," Nino says, giving a double-thumbs up with sudsy gloves, and Aiba realizes half the condoms Sho had been holding have disappeared.
"Payment," Sho says solemnly, and stuffs the rest back where he found them.
When they're done it's still not as sparkly as Aiba had been imagining, but the banner that says WELCUM HOME HAPPY BIRTHDAY and the streamers and the bows all make up for that, Aiba thinks. So does the mistletoe (and Nino can shake his head all he wants, Aiba knows what he's doing).
The only thing missing is the birthday boy. Aiba is certain he'd gotten off work, but they wait and they wait behind a suspiciously jostled couch for a long time before Sho finally says, "He is coming home, right?"
"Should I call him?" Aiba worries aloud.
"I don't want to sit here till morning," Nino says, shifting around on his bony bottom. "Where's your phone?"
Matsujun picks up on the third ring. "Aiba-chan," he says, and he sounds tired. "Sorry, were you waiting for me?"
"Are you okay?" Aiba says. "I thought you'd be home by now?"
"I rented a hotel room," Matsujun says, and Aiba winces; the buttons of his phone are casting an eerie light in the small space where they're all squished, and he can tell everyone heard, because they're staring at Aiba like they want to eat him. "I just couldn't go home tonight. I guess it's too late to ask you to come here?"
"I--I cleaned up!" Aiba says desperately as Nino pinches the bridge of his nose and Leader tips over to quietly rest his head on Sho-chan's shoulder. "Really, Matsujun, please, I know it's really really selfish, but..."
"No, I'll come home." Aiba can envision Jun now: he is probably wrapped in the hotel's yukata, sipping on cheap paper-wrapped tea, his feet soaking in the too-hot water of the bathtub as he sits on the edge. He likes to do that after concerts and before and after sex; Aiba never understands how he manages in the summer, when the humidity paints their skin damp and sticky.
"Are you sure?" Sho-chan is watching him intently. Aiba feels overwhelmingly responsible, caught between a rock and a hard place.
"I'll be there soon, just--don't cook anything. Okay?"
Aiba hangs up the phone to silence, and then Nino lets out his breath. "He had a full schedule today. Maybe we should go home...?"
"No, I think... I think he'd like this," Aiba says.
So they wait. Nino plays a puzzle game on his phone that involves furry dots that squeak and complain, and Leader falls asleep there on Sho's shoulder, thankfully not snoring. Aiba counts the minutes, but not because he's impatient: he wants to make it up to Matsujun later, when everyone has gone home, minute for minute in the way Jun likes best. He listens.
And then he hears the turn of the knob, and the front door open.
Matsujun is home.
Original Commentary
Pairing: Matsuba
Rating: G
Word Count: 1331
Summary: Nino does dishes, Aiba dusts, Leader vacuums, and Sho finds something in the couch...
A/N: A prompt from reversemirror! Thanks to augustfai for looking this over for me!
"Turn it the other way, idiot," Nino grunts from over Aiba's shoulder.
"Oh," Aiba says, "Yes yes, I know, I knew that!" His key is three years old but the brassy length of it is still unblemished when he retracts it from the lock. "I so rarely use this thing..."
"I feel like a spy or something," Sho murmurs. Indeed, he's dressed all in black, and Aiba thinks it makes him look rather dashing even though he hasn't had his hair done and his cheeks are naked of makeup. He personally believes Sho-chan is more attractive like this: up close and real, the fine under-layer of an idol.
"This guy can't even open the lock by himself," Nino says as Aiba props open the door. "If you're going to be a spy, get yourself a better partner next time."
"We're spying?" Leader asks as he shuffles in, bumping against Aiba in the tiny entryway of Matsujun's apartment. The earthy smell of his sweat closes around Aiba as the door swings shut behind them, and Aiba scrambles to hit the light switch with his full palm. It doesn't turn on.
Nino sighs, and flicks it with a fingertip.
"What--did a bomb go off in here?" Sho exclaims, pulling his cap off his head and running his fingers through sweat-streaked hair.
Aiba takes a quick glance around. There are ramen cups piled up on Matsujun's coffee table, and several of them have toppled over in an artistic pile to obscure all the latest fashion magazines. A single sock is stuck between the couch cushions (Aiba thinks it looks rather phallic, poking out like that) and there are books of manga, plastic bags, hairbrushes, and lotion bottles in the most random of places.
"Um," Aiba says. "It's a little worse than usual."
"Did we step into some sort of alternate dimension?" Nino's strident voice says clearly from the kitchen. Aiba's not so keen on going in there, not with the way it looked last time. "There is no way this is Matsujun's apartment. Not the Mr. Anal-Retentive. Last time I was here it looked like it'd been through an economy car wash." Nino has reappeared in the doorway, slouched and shell-shocked.
"We have to clean this, don't we?" Leader says mournfully.
Actually, Aiba hadn't been planning on that at all, but the thing he's best at is grabbing onto a good idea and running with it full speed ahead. "Yes!" he says, far more delighted than even he had expected himself to be. A split second thought has reminded him that cleaning Matsujun's apartment is worlds better than cleaning porcupine enclosures (mainly because he won't die) and plus, he has three more pairs of able hands to help him. (He still counts Sho-chan, even if Sho-chan's mother has done every bit of polishing, folding, and dusting throughout his 27 years. Even Leader is better at tidying.)
"But we do, don't we?" Sho says, standing in the middle of the living room as if he might set something off by stepping in any direction. "A surprise party would be impossible in a place like this."
"So, Jun-kun's boyfriend, where's the disinfectant?" Nino says, arms crossed over the bold writing on his chest (his shirt says GROßER MANN, which Aiba thinks is hilarious even if he doesn't know what it means).
When his friends have a purpose, they set to it with a will and a minimum of complaints (though Nino's comment about Matsujun's magazines and his right hand and how he is not touching that shit is pretty funny, and Aiba giggles all the way to the bathroom to wash out his dust cloth) and Aiba is feeling generally good about everything as the ramen cups find the trash can, the phallic sock goes into the hamper, and the manga gets returned to its shelf in alphabetic-numerical order. Really, it's pretty awesome.
"What is this?" Sho says abruptly as Aiba is tripping over the vacuum cleaner. "Wait, strike that, what are these?"
"Oh, that--that's--"
"You keep your condoms in the couch? I should have known," Nino says, peeking from around the kitchen doorway. He'd volunteered to wash the dishes (Aiba had thanked his lucky stars while hedging, "Well, if you want to." "Don't even try, reverse psychology is just going to make your head hurt," Nino had said, arming himself with rubber gloves and an impressively clean dishtowel).
Sho is flipping over a package, and Aiba is grinning around his embarrassment. They're Matsujun's extra-special neon-pink strawberry set, even though Aiba doesn't think they taste a thing like strawberry unless you coat them with syrup. They haven't tried jam yet. "Put those back!" he flails, accidentally whacking Leader as he vacuums. "Oops, sorry, Captain, Captain, are you okay?"
"I'm not sure I'm the U.F.O. in this group," Leader pouts, rubbing at his forehead before trying to whack Aiba back with the cleaner nozzle.
"Sho-chan, that is dirty. I approve," Nino says, giving a double-thumbs up with sudsy gloves, and Aiba realizes half the condoms Sho had been holding have disappeared.
"Payment," Sho says solemnly, and stuffs the rest back where he found them.
When they're done it's still not as sparkly as Aiba had been imagining, but the banner that says WELCUM HOME HAPPY BIRTHDAY and the streamers and the bows all make up for that, Aiba thinks. So does the mistletoe (and Nino can shake his head all he wants, Aiba knows what he's doing).
The only thing missing is the birthday boy. Aiba is certain he'd gotten off work, but they wait and they wait behind a suspiciously jostled couch for a long time before Sho finally says, "He is coming home, right?"
"Should I call him?" Aiba worries aloud.
"I don't want to sit here till morning," Nino says, shifting around on his bony bottom. "Where's your phone?"
Matsujun picks up on the third ring. "Aiba-chan," he says, and he sounds tired. "Sorry, were you waiting for me?"
"Are you okay?" Aiba says. "I thought you'd be home by now?"
"I rented a hotel room," Matsujun says, and Aiba winces; the buttons of his phone are casting an eerie light in the small space where they're all squished, and he can tell everyone heard, because they're staring at Aiba like they want to eat him. "I just couldn't go home tonight. I guess it's too late to ask you to come here?"
"I--I cleaned up!" Aiba says desperately as Nino pinches the bridge of his nose and Leader tips over to quietly rest his head on Sho-chan's shoulder. "Really, Matsujun, please, I know it's really really selfish, but..."
"No, I'll come home." Aiba can envision Jun now: he is probably wrapped in the hotel's yukata, sipping on cheap paper-wrapped tea, his feet soaking in the too-hot water of the bathtub as he sits on the edge. He likes to do that after concerts and before and after sex; Aiba never understands how he manages in the summer, when the humidity paints their skin damp and sticky.
"Are you sure?" Sho-chan is watching him intently. Aiba feels overwhelmingly responsible, caught between a rock and a hard place.
"I'll be there soon, just--don't cook anything. Okay?"
Aiba hangs up the phone to silence, and then Nino lets out his breath. "He had a full schedule today. Maybe we should go home...?"
"No, I think... I think he'd like this," Aiba says.
So they wait. Nino plays a puzzle game on his phone that involves furry dots that squeak and complain, and Leader falls asleep there on Sho's shoulder, thankfully not snoring. Aiba counts the minutes, but not because he's impatient: he wants to make it up to Matsujun later, when everyone has gone home, minute for minute in the way Jun likes best. He listens.
And then he hears the turn of the knob, and the front door open.
Matsujun is home.
Original Commentary