The Marshmallow Within
Title: The Marshmallow Within
Rating: G
Pairing: Aiba/Jun, OT5
Word count: 2031
Summary: Jun has been in a bad mood for years. Aiba finally does something about it.
Warnings/Notes: Title is random, but it harkens to their younger years, when Jun was prickly(er) and Aiba was...well, Aiba's always been Aiba. Lots of hugging and silliness. No idea why I wrote this and why this was in my LJ drafts, but better published than forgotten, yes? ♥
It would be an understatement to say that it took him by surprise, when Aiba did it. It wasn't normal, by any standard.
Nothing was going right for him that day and being who he was, everyone knew about it, no matter how hard he tried to rein it in. Jun swore that he intended to contain his irritation at the less than incompetent staff and the feeling that he was sorely lacking, that he wasn't trying hard enough. He thought he was successful at pretending, but a harsh criticism of his acting from the director was the final straw. It was one of those unspeakably horrible days, the rare ones that made him question his abilities and intentions.
What am I even trying so hard for? Jun slunk back to the jimusho, waiting for a taping for their late-night variety show, or for the world to eat him up, whichever came first.
He had just wanted to take a small nap and redirect his frustration. Jun was young, but he already knew better than to take things personally. He knew that recognition took blood and sweat, and much more. He knew that at some point, that he would feel lonely, would start to feel stretched thin. He was ready for all those scenarios, even now when they were all colliding with brutal impact.
Yet he couldn't discount his impulse to lash out at the world, lest he indulge in it. What he needed right then and there was a space where he can deflate safely, without anyone seeing him at his most threadbare state. But Aiba, Aiba wouldn't leave him alone.
Aiba knelt in front of him, irises so black that Jun felt himself spinning helplessly in that familiar glint. His smack to the side of Aiba's head was rote and half-hearted, more defensive mechanism than anything else. Aiba even had the gall to lean to it with a smile.
"Get up, what are you doing," Jun said, staring Aiba down. It didn't deter him, nothing ever did. "Seriously, you're too close."
Aiba took his hand in his, warm and strong. He was dead-set on shaking him off, but Aiba could be forceful when he wanted to. "Matsujun, don't fight this. You can fight every single other thing, but not this."
"What am I not fighting, exactly?" Jun sighed. Aiba squiggled closer to him, chin landing on Jun's thigh.
"My being close enough to comfort you." Their eyes met as Jun puffed out his irritation and embarrassment. He had enough of both to burst right then and there.
"I don't need to be comforted." He jogged his thigh up and down, but Aiba stayed put, his face dumbly bobbing along for a good half a minute. His light hair even bounced along. Jun couldn't help it-he was laughing before he knew it. "You're a pain in the ass!"
"I am, and as your very own pain in the ass," and at this, Jun was half rolling his eyes and half despairing, "I would like to know whenever I'm needed. It's my duty." Aiba's hand curled tighter around Jun's, smile so sincere it coursed straight through Jun. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, because he wouldn't want Aiba to think he could pull stunts like this all the time. Because somehow, Jun just knew he would let Aiba get away with it, in every instance.
"You're okay with being someone's pain in the ass?" he scoffed. Aiba nodded in response, a sharp grin on his face. "We're both talking about the same thing, right?" Jun clarified, to Aiba's guffawing.
"Did you really just ask that? Oh my god, Matsujun!"
He took a light swipe at Aiba's temple, biting his lips so as not to giggle helplessly along. "Don't you forget who started this stupid conversation in the first place."
"I did," Aiba beamed proudly, scooting close on his knees, to which Jun could only sigh. "You're oozing vibes of doom all over the place, did you know? You look terrifying."
"I do not."
"But you do," Aiba confirmed, nodding gravely. "Rough day?"
Aiba, contrary to everyone else's perceptions, really left people alone when they wanted to. What they got right was the he was sensitive, but usually, that meant him understanding when people wanted a wide berth. Perhaps it's why Jun was a little discomfitted at his proximity, his dogged insistence. How did Aiba know? That today was particularly rough?
He gave up wondering why and instead leaned back on the couch. "Today...it wasn't fun," he said, ineloquent in his surrender. "I'm no good."
Jun knew he didn't have to explain himself to Aiba, didn't have to defend himself. And maybe this was his safe space, in the sphere of Aiba's sight and earshot, somewhere he could be angry and mean and a little self-serving. It was a need he couldn't say out loud.
"You know that's not true. It's just a bad day. A bad year, maybe, going with your moods as of late."
Jun groaned, feeling himself cringing. "That bad?"
"U-huh. And it's confusing, because in the ways that matter the most, you're the best of us."
When Aiba's lips landed at the back of his hand, still and soft, he closed his eyes, heart managing the puddles of relief and surprise flooding inside him. It wasn't just a peck, but a soft, aching moment so immense, even in its smallness, that had Jun's blood rushing and pounding. The gesture crossed a line, for sure, but Jun wondered if he should be feeling repulsed. Or, at the very least, confused. He was feeling none of those things. "You think too much of me," he managed to croak, pliable and warm at the cheeks, meeting Aiba's eyes. His hand was still in his.
"Can I please," Aiba uttered, "can I please hug you?"
Jun's instinct, despite had him drag Aiba up, up, up. His arms were around Aiba swiftly-it felt like a tipping point. Aiba breathed out as he wrapped his own arms around Jun, grounding and sure. The scent of Aiba's fabric softener combined with his warm, soapy honeycomb skin-smell filled up Jun's nostrils in a pleasant wave, solid and familiar at the same time. It didn't even matter that one of Aiba's knee was in a dangerous position, or that anyone could come in at any moment.
"See, this is nice, right?" Aiba hummed.
"Don't ruin it," he replied, adamant as he tucked his chin on Aiba's shoulder. Now that he was being held, he wouldn't let go that easily.
There was no background music to soften and inform the moment, yet Jun felt no awkwardness. It was quiet, except for the hum of the water dispenser and the small puffs of Aiba's breath surrounding him. He allowed the tension on his shoulders to fall away as Aiba slowly ran his hand up and down the small of his back. Aiba made everything else melt away, heart aglow, his small smile something Jun could sense even if he couldn't see it.
"I like this," Aiba whispered. "You don't get to hold up the world on your own, tough guy!" There was a sudden crash by the closets.
"What was that?" He made to turn towards it, but Aiba kept him in place.
"Nothing! Just the sound of the world righting itself."
"Do you even know what you're saying, sometimes?"
"Always! Right now, I'm just glad. I knew I still had my marshmallow Jun somewhere in there," Aiba said, squeezing tight. At that, Jun struggled half-seriously out of Aiba's clutch. "Don't fight this!"
"You're a moron." Jun realized that increasingly, the things he said to Aiba were tinted with pleas to be recognized, to anchor himself somewhere he knew wouldn't give out from under him. To find someone who could say that at the end of the day, you're still Jun.
"Jun," Aiba whispered, voice stuttering like gravel. "You have me, don't you know? That counts?" He couldn't know for sure if Aiba felt his tiny nod.
"I'm sorry for being weird. It's just that...I'm here."
“Don’t be weird then.”
Aiba's lips grazed his cheek. “Seriously, you just have to try again tomorrow. I don’t know what happened, but show up and be yourself. That’s usually enough right?”
“Weird,” Jun muttered, to which Aiba only responded to by shimmying closer to his space.
It was weird and stupid and exactly what he needed. Jun promised right then and there that he would also be there for Aiba. When, god forbid, his lungs collapse again, when he couldn't smile, when he couldn't be Aiba-chan-that he would be there to be that anchor too. The sentiment settled over his bones with ease. He pushed Aiba away with a feeble, "I'm okay now," and Aiba stood up, untangling himself from him with a smile.
Jun wasn't exactly feeling choked up, but he was drowning in the aftermath of everything Aiba represented: sunshine and an infinite sense of tomorrows. It felt like he could go on.
Wanting to escape, he stood up himself, suddenly shy. “So, uh…I’m gonna go get a drink.”
Before he was even able to take two steps towards the door, he heard Aiba shouting "NOW!!!" and found himself physically taken aback by a confusion of arms around him. “Hey! What-”
“Marshmallow Jun,” said a pleased voice close to his ear that he soon confirmed was Ohno’s. “Marshmallow Jun sandwich!” Aiba giggled, arms snaking closer around him to reach over Ohno’s shoulder.
“I had no part in this,” Sho announced as he stumbled out of the closet after Nino, trying to sneak a wad of bills to his proferred hand.
“Extra one-thousand yen for Jun-kun saying he’d take it in the ass,” Nino announced.
“I SAID NOTHING OF THAT SORT,” he shouted, only to be muffled by Ohno and Aiba’s arms smothering him.
“Shh, now,” Ohno murmured. “I’m your pain in the ass too. We all are!”
“WHAT THE HELL.”
“In the ass,” Nino repeated with glee, weaving an arm around Sho, who looked like he wanted to wash Nino’s mouth with something unpleasant. "But seriously that was so touching, all that tough guy business!"
“Aiba,” Jun growled, struggling. “Let me go! Also, Leader, you’re too close!”
“But isn’t this what Operation Marshmallow is all about?” Ohno replied, chin now on Jun’s shoulder. “Aiba-chan told me.”
“Or more like, he made a bet,” Sho declared with a sigh, watching as Nino counted the bills in his hands with a flourish. “Operation Marshmallow, Level 1.”
“What does that even mean!
“You just proved us right, stupid,” Nino supplied. “Exceeded expectations, even.”
“-returned to us with open arms!” Aiba chorused. “Nino knew you would too!”
“Jun-kun is and will always be a softie, how can anyone even get that wrong,” Nino argued, smug, draping himself against Sho’s frame. “His eyebrows are just a front.”
“I lost money, but I kinda like being wrong,” Ohno said, looking up close at Jun. “I'm glad you hugged back.”
“Oh my god.” Jun’s face colored up, a sense of defeat sinking in. He felt himself wilting in the warmth of his bandmates. His exasperation pretty much drove out all the other negative feelings he had been entertaining-and maybe that was its own kind of medicine. Or something. Being wrapped in the sunshiney laundry smell of his bandmates was kind of tranquilizing.
He felt Ohno untangling his arm, turning towards the others. “C'mon, you two as well.”
Nino hopped into his space, dragging Sho along with him. At that, Jun was fully surrounded. “Where’s a photographer when you need one?” Nino said. “Field day!”
“This is so embarrassing,” Sho whined, saying a piece of Jun’s mind out loud.
“Really embarrassing and not to mention, weird! What the hell, you guys,” Jun groused. “Stop breathing on my face, Sho-kun!”
“What’s so embarrassing about us collectively being a marshmallow pie!” Aiba enthused, rocking from one feet to another, swaying them to an odd rhythm that has Sho laughing anyway.
“Does this mean Do-S Bancho here can finally throw out his black nail polish?” Nino wondered, grinning. “Sulking isn’t fashionable.”
Ohno giggled traitorously. Jun would smack all of them if he could, but he was surrounded.
“Stop swaying, you're making me dizzy,” Jun said, a smile dancing on his lips.
He was surrounded. Surrounded by them, by so much. It was obviously an idiotic memory to tuck away somewhere safe from public scrutiny. He grudgingly slunk an arm around Aiba’s waist, pulling him closer, which Aiba positively glowed at.
“See!”
“You’re not just getting away with this," Jun promised.
Before he slept later the next morning--their taping had ended at an ungodly hour-his phone pinged with a mail from Aiba.
"WE’RE SO SORRY!!!! IT WAS MY FAULT!!!!
But here’s Operation Marshmallow, Part 2: To make Matsujun smile more.
I'll kneel again, just don’t make me lose my bet! :-)”
Aiba already won even before Jun could type “leave me alone!”
Rating: G
Pairing: Aiba/Jun, OT5
Word count: 2031
Summary: Jun has been in a bad mood for years. Aiba finally does something about it.
Warnings/Notes: Title is random, but it harkens to their younger years, when Jun was prickly(er) and Aiba was...well, Aiba's always been Aiba. Lots of hugging and silliness. No idea why I wrote this and why this was in my LJ drafts, but better published than forgotten, yes? ♥
It would be an understatement to say that it took him by surprise, when Aiba did it. It wasn't normal, by any standard.
Nothing was going right for him that day and being who he was, everyone knew about it, no matter how hard he tried to rein it in. Jun swore that he intended to contain his irritation at the less than incompetent staff and the feeling that he was sorely lacking, that he wasn't trying hard enough. He thought he was successful at pretending, but a harsh criticism of his acting from the director was the final straw. It was one of those unspeakably horrible days, the rare ones that made him question his abilities and intentions.
What am I even trying so hard for? Jun slunk back to the jimusho, waiting for a taping for their late-night variety show, or for the world to eat him up, whichever came first.
He had just wanted to take a small nap and redirect his frustration. Jun was young, but he already knew better than to take things personally. He knew that recognition took blood and sweat, and much more. He knew that at some point, that he would feel lonely, would start to feel stretched thin. He was ready for all those scenarios, even now when they were all colliding with brutal impact.
Yet he couldn't discount his impulse to lash out at the world, lest he indulge in it. What he needed right then and there was a space where he can deflate safely, without anyone seeing him at his most threadbare state. But Aiba, Aiba wouldn't leave him alone.
Aiba knelt in front of him, irises so black that Jun felt himself spinning helplessly in that familiar glint. His smack to the side of Aiba's head was rote and half-hearted, more defensive mechanism than anything else. Aiba even had the gall to lean to it with a smile.
"Get up, what are you doing," Jun said, staring Aiba down. It didn't deter him, nothing ever did. "Seriously, you're too close."
Aiba took his hand in his, warm and strong. He was dead-set on shaking him off, but Aiba could be forceful when he wanted to. "Matsujun, don't fight this. You can fight every single other thing, but not this."
"What am I not fighting, exactly?" Jun sighed. Aiba squiggled closer to him, chin landing on Jun's thigh.
"My being close enough to comfort you." Their eyes met as Jun puffed out his irritation and embarrassment. He had enough of both to burst right then and there.
"I don't need to be comforted." He jogged his thigh up and down, but Aiba stayed put, his face dumbly bobbing along for a good half a minute. His light hair even bounced along. Jun couldn't help it-he was laughing before he knew it. "You're a pain in the ass!"
"I am, and as your very own pain in the ass," and at this, Jun was half rolling his eyes and half despairing, "I would like to know whenever I'm needed. It's my duty." Aiba's hand curled tighter around Jun's, smile so sincere it coursed straight through Jun. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, because he wouldn't want Aiba to think he could pull stunts like this all the time. Because somehow, Jun just knew he would let Aiba get away with it, in every instance.
"You're okay with being someone's pain in the ass?" he scoffed. Aiba nodded in response, a sharp grin on his face. "We're both talking about the same thing, right?" Jun clarified, to Aiba's guffawing.
"Did you really just ask that? Oh my god, Matsujun!"
He took a light swipe at Aiba's temple, biting his lips so as not to giggle helplessly along. "Don't you forget who started this stupid conversation in the first place."
"I did," Aiba beamed proudly, scooting close on his knees, to which Jun could only sigh. "You're oozing vibes of doom all over the place, did you know? You look terrifying."
"I do not."
"But you do," Aiba confirmed, nodding gravely. "Rough day?"
Aiba, contrary to everyone else's perceptions, really left people alone when they wanted to. What they got right was the he was sensitive, but usually, that meant him understanding when people wanted a wide berth. Perhaps it's why Jun was a little discomfitted at his proximity, his dogged insistence. How did Aiba know? That today was particularly rough?
He gave up wondering why and instead leaned back on the couch. "Today...it wasn't fun," he said, ineloquent in his surrender. "I'm no good."
Jun knew he didn't have to explain himself to Aiba, didn't have to defend himself. And maybe this was his safe space, in the sphere of Aiba's sight and earshot, somewhere he could be angry and mean and a little self-serving. It was a need he couldn't say out loud.
"You know that's not true. It's just a bad day. A bad year, maybe, going with your moods as of late."
Jun groaned, feeling himself cringing. "That bad?"
"U-huh. And it's confusing, because in the ways that matter the most, you're the best of us."
When Aiba's lips landed at the back of his hand, still and soft, he closed his eyes, heart managing the puddles of relief and surprise flooding inside him. It wasn't just a peck, but a soft, aching moment so immense, even in its smallness, that had Jun's blood rushing and pounding. The gesture crossed a line, for sure, but Jun wondered if he should be feeling repulsed. Or, at the very least, confused. He was feeling none of those things. "You think too much of me," he managed to croak, pliable and warm at the cheeks, meeting Aiba's eyes. His hand was still in his.
"Can I please," Aiba uttered, "can I please hug you?"
Jun's instinct, despite had him drag Aiba up, up, up. His arms were around Aiba swiftly-it felt like a tipping point. Aiba breathed out as he wrapped his own arms around Jun, grounding and sure. The scent of Aiba's fabric softener combined with his warm, soapy honeycomb skin-smell filled up Jun's nostrils in a pleasant wave, solid and familiar at the same time. It didn't even matter that one of Aiba's knee was in a dangerous position, or that anyone could come in at any moment.
"See, this is nice, right?" Aiba hummed.
"Don't ruin it," he replied, adamant as he tucked his chin on Aiba's shoulder. Now that he was being held, he wouldn't let go that easily.
There was no background music to soften and inform the moment, yet Jun felt no awkwardness. It was quiet, except for the hum of the water dispenser and the small puffs of Aiba's breath surrounding him. He allowed the tension on his shoulders to fall away as Aiba slowly ran his hand up and down the small of his back. Aiba made everything else melt away, heart aglow, his small smile something Jun could sense even if he couldn't see it.
"I like this," Aiba whispered. "You don't get to hold up the world on your own, tough guy!" There was a sudden crash by the closets.
"What was that?" He made to turn towards it, but Aiba kept him in place.
"Nothing! Just the sound of the world righting itself."
"Do you even know what you're saying, sometimes?"
"Always! Right now, I'm just glad. I knew I still had my marshmallow Jun somewhere in there," Aiba said, squeezing tight. At that, Jun struggled half-seriously out of Aiba's clutch. "Don't fight this!"
"You're a moron." Jun realized that increasingly, the things he said to Aiba were tinted with pleas to be recognized, to anchor himself somewhere he knew wouldn't give out from under him. To find someone who could say that at the end of the day, you're still Jun.
"Jun," Aiba whispered, voice stuttering like gravel. "You have me, don't you know? That counts?" He couldn't know for sure if Aiba felt his tiny nod.
"I'm sorry for being weird. It's just that...I'm here."
“Don’t be weird then.”
Aiba's lips grazed his cheek. “Seriously, you just have to try again tomorrow. I don’t know what happened, but show up and be yourself. That’s usually enough right?”
“Weird,” Jun muttered, to which Aiba only responded to by shimmying closer to his space.
It was weird and stupid and exactly what he needed. Jun promised right then and there that he would also be there for Aiba. When, god forbid, his lungs collapse again, when he couldn't smile, when he couldn't be Aiba-chan-that he would be there to be that anchor too. The sentiment settled over his bones with ease. He pushed Aiba away with a feeble, "I'm okay now," and Aiba stood up, untangling himself from him with a smile.
Jun wasn't exactly feeling choked up, but he was drowning in the aftermath of everything Aiba represented: sunshine and an infinite sense of tomorrows. It felt like he could go on.
Wanting to escape, he stood up himself, suddenly shy. “So, uh…I’m gonna go get a drink.”
Before he was even able to take two steps towards the door, he heard Aiba shouting "NOW!!!" and found himself physically taken aback by a confusion of arms around him. “Hey! What-”
“Marshmallow Jun,” said a pleased voice close to his ear that he soon confirmed was Ohno’s. “Marshmallow Jun sandwich!” Aiba giggled, arms snaking closer around him to reach over Ohno’s shoulder.
“I had no part in this,” Sho announced as he stumbled out of the closet after Nino, trying to sneak a wad of bills to his proferred hand.
“Extra one-thousand yen for Jun-kun saying he’d take it in the ass,” Nino announced.
“I SAID NOTHING OF THAT SORT,” he shouted, only to be muffled by Ohno and Aiba’s arms smothering him.
“Shh, now,” Ohno murmured. “I’m your pain in the ass too. We all are!”
“WHAT THE HELL.”
“In the ass,” Nino repeated with glee, weaving an arm around Sho, who looked like he wanted to wash Nino’s mouth with something unpleasant. "But seriously that was so touching, all that tough guy business!"
“Aiba,” Jun growled, struggling. “Let me go! Also, Leader, you’re too close!”
“But isn’t this what Operation Marshmallow is all about?” Ohno replied, chin now on Jun’s shoulder. “Aiba-chan told me.”
“Or more like, he made a bet,” Sho declared with a sigh, watching as Nino counted the bills in his hands with a flourish. “Operation Marshmallow, Level 1.”
“What does that even mean!
“You just proved us right, stupid,” Nino supplied. “Exceeded expectations, even.”
“-returned to us with open arms!” Aiba chorused. “Nino knew you would too!”
“Jun-kun is and will always be a softie, how can anyone even get that wrong,” Nino argued, smug, draping himself against Sho’s frame. “His eyebrows are just a front.”
“I lost money, but I kinda like being wrong,” Ohno said, looking up close at Jun. “I'm glad you hugged back.”
“Oh my god.” Jun’s face colored up, a sense of defeat sinking in. He felt himself wilting in the warmth of his bandmates. His exasperation pretty much drove out all the other negative feelings he had been entertaining-and maybe that was its own kind of medicine. Or something. Being wrapped in the sunshiney laundry smell of his bandmates was kind of tranquilizing.
He felt Ohno untangling his arm, turning towards the others. “C'mon, you two as well.”
Nino hopped into his space, dragging Sho along with him. At that, Jun was fully surrounded. “Where’s a photographer when you need one?” Nino said. “Field day!”
“This is so embarrassing,” Sho whined, saying a piece of Jun’s mind out loud.
“Really embarrassing and not to mention, weird! What the hell, you guys,” Jun groused. “Stop breathing on my face, Sho-kun!”
“What’s so embarrassing about us collectively being a marshmallow pie!” Aiba enthused, rocking from one feet to another, swaying them to an odd rhythm that has Sho laughing anyway.
“Does this mean Do-S Bancho here can finally throw out his black nail polish?” Nino wondered, grinning. “Sulking isn’t fashionable.”
Ohno giggled traitorously. Jun would smack all of them if he could, but he was surrounded.
“Stop swaying, you're making me dizzy,” Jun said, a smile dancing on his lips.
He was surrounded. Surrounded by them, by so much. It was obviously an idiotic memory to tuck away somewhere safe from public scrutiny. He grudgingly slunk an arm around Aiba’s waist, pulling him closer, which Aiba positively glowed at.
“See!”
“You’re not just getting away with this," Jun promised.
Before he slept later the next morning--their taping had ended at an ungodly hour-his phone pinged with a mail from Aiba.
"WE’RE SO SORRY!!!! IT WAS MY FAULT!!!!
But here’s Operation Marshmallow, Part 2: To make Matsujun smile more.
I'll kneel again, just don’t make me lose my bet! :-)”
Aiba already won even before Jun could type “leave me alone!”