Just a Memory
Title: Just a Memory
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho
Summary: Something "happened" in their younger Jun-fanboying-Sho days that they've tried to forget, but all the 10 year anniversary interviews brush away some cobwebs.
Notes/Warnings: For JE Smut/Kink Meme Nov. 09. Another of my own prompts that I filled out - I couldn't help myself, yo.
The reporter from Wink Up is sitting there with the tape recorder in hand, and Sho asks her to repeat the question.
“I'm sorry,” she says automatically. It's another tenth year anniversary question, probably the tenth or twentieth time he's been asked these things. “The question was, is there anything in these ten years in Arashi that you regret?”
He licks his lips and takes a sip of water. He remembers the hotel room, the scent of the cheap shampoo, and well-meaning fingers stroking him under the sheet.
“No,” he says, flashing the idol smile they pay him for. “Absolutely no regrets.”
-
Must have had a bad dream because Jun's next to him in the bed now. Sho would normally be confused, alarmed at someone else under the covers with him. Sure, most of the juniors had been close, and it was obvious even to him that Jun kind of liked him. But they were debuted now, they had to work together all the time.
But he doesn't tell Jun to go.
-
He can hear Jun approaching, flip flops slapping against the tiles while they wait for wardrobe to set out their outfits for the Shukudai filming. Jun's got on a sideways cap, and he's carrying a script. Sho turns his attention back to his laptop, scrolls through a few more news articles as Jun sits at the table across from him.
Jun studies his script, chewing on a pen cap, and Sho listens to him turn the pages. Jun doesn't realize he's actually saying some of the lines out loud, under his breath. Sho listens, clicking through some sports scores, wishing that he could give Wink Up a call and say yeah...yeah, there was something he regretted.
-
Jun's eager to please, and Sho's still so tired from whatever bad dream is fading quickly that Jun's mouth dragging lazily across his face doesn't register right away. He turns, and Jun's lips meet the corner of his mouth. “Are you okay, Sho-kun?”
The other guy's in his bed. Christ, he's seventeen and there's another guy in his bed with him. “Had a bad dream,” he admits, still so confused.
Jun, all gangly limbs and smiles with a bit of temper not unlike the one Sho himself has, is under the covers with him, wiggling his way along Sho's side. “I'm here.”
They're Arashi now, and Jun can't be doing this, but Sho likes the feeling of Jun's breath on his face in the dark, likes the way Jun's fingers are reaching to twine with his own.
-
“Did you do the Wink Up already for this month?” he asks, almost out of nowhere, looking over the top of his laptop screen to see Jun nod. He's completely engrossed in his script, dragging the pen cap along his lower lip, teeth marks having munched most of the cap into a flatter state. “Another ten year interview.”
“Yep,” Jun says.
Sho looks away, focuses on a smudge on his laptop screen. “Did you have the regret question? The whole if you could do anything differently question?”
“Yep.”
He nods, finding another smudge to draw his annoyance. “I should have said I regretted the plastic outfits. Or maybe the vegetable thing.”
Jun snorts. “The plastic suit? When you looked so good in it?”
He looks up at Jun's change in tone, at the small smile hiding at the edges of his mouth, feels a shiver down his spine. He regrets that he can't tell Jun he's sorry.
-
Sho kisses back, pretty unsure about the whole thing as Jun moves to straddle him. Each kiss lasts maybe a second longer than the one that came before it. He can feel it between his legs - his brain's a bit muddled, but his body's responding to his band mate lying on top of him in the dark.
“Do you like me at all?” Jun asks, wanting affection, wanting Sho to be his fan just the same.
“I don't know,” Sho says honestly. Jun's not heavy, but Sho feels weird with another boy on top, so he moves them to their sides. Jun starts to use his tongue, starts to demand a bit more attention, and Sho worries that this will turn into something they'll feel bad about doing in the morning.
He groans as Jun moves one of his long, skinny legs over Sho's hip, grinding himself against Sho's crotch. “What are you doing?” Sho wonders, starting to panic over how much he likes the way Jun's mouth lingers on his jaw.
Jun just puts a finger to Sho's lips, continuing to rub himself against Sho. Even through their pajamas, it feels really good, and Sho doesn't want to stop.
-
“Do you ever...” Sho interrupts again, and by now, Jun seems a bit pissed off that Sho keeps talking to him when he's got lines to learn. “...think about the debut? How crazy it all was?”
Jun lets the brim of his hat cover his eyes. “All the time.” Sho realizes that Jun's probably thinking the same thing, and the emptiness of the green room makes it all the more obvious. Sure, debut time was crazy. It was sudden and strange, and there were five of them, none of them even 20, and they were expected to just make sense.
But how could things make sense when they were 16, 17 years old and didn't even know who they were and what they wanted and who they wanted to be? His eyes lose focus on the laptop screen.
“That night,” Sho admits. “I haven't thought about it for a while. I don't know why I keep thinking about it.”
Jun looks embarrassed. Sho does what he usually does. He keeps talking.
“I'm sorry to bring it up. It's all this anniversary stuff. They're making us remember things, showing us pictures from when we were still juniors, just debuted, that sort of thing,” he continues. “I was a different person then.” I didn't notice just how much you meant it, he thinks.
“We both were,” Jun says, his voice harder, more dismissive.
-
They explore, hands clumsy as they skim over forearms and elbows and collarbones and rib bones. Jun seems so happy to have Sho's hands on him, and he's breathing heavily, enough for Sho to feel a bit dizzy. Jun's the first to go for it, to run his hand along the waistband of Sho's pajama bottoms and reach inside. He jerks at the feeling of Jun's hand there, grasping and pulling in a bit more awkward way than Sho himself did it.
“Matsujun, what are you doing?” he asks again, but Jun kisses him quiet, stroking him up and down, swallowing up Sho's moans with his mouth.
It doesn't take long for him to come, messy and warm all over Jun's insistent hand. He crashes, still not entirely out of sleep. Kissing Jun, touching Jun, it's all been like some kind of fog. He doesn't even think that Jun might appreciate some attention in return because the next thing Sho remembers is waking up the next morning in his hotel bed by himself, and Jun's buried under a mound of blankets in the other bed.
He doesn't think about what happened because they're Arashi, and they all have to be friends now, they all have to work together now. So he doesn't think about it, and he and Jun seem to cool off towards one another. But they smile and put their arms around each other for photos. It's just how it works.
-
The others arrive in the green room shortly thereafter, and the discussion is seemingly closed. It's not worth regretting - they were both young, things happen. The group's stronger now than it ever has been, but Sho has the realization now that what he could have had ten years ago, well...it had been nice. He'd gone and ignored it, leaving Jun to flounder a bit.
He feels like an idiot when he pulls Jun aside after filming, feeling the strangest sensation in his belly. The past months they've gotten along surprisingly well - it could just be the high of reaching ten years, but something's different now and the interview's only made it more obvious.
“There is something,” he tells Jun.
“What do you mean?” and Jun's watching him, studying him. Jun's not all smiles and gangly limbs now - he's an adult and he's serious, observant.
“Something I regret from the past ten years,” he admits, stammering. “I regret that I never...I regret just leaving it at what it was. And I'm sorry.”
Jun doesn't say anything, not yet. He's letting Sho's words sink in, fill the space between them that's been there for a decade, and they've been so busy and involved with the group as the group that they haven't noticed.
Sho meets his eyes. “Could you forgive me?” He's not asking for a fresh start, he's not asking Jun on a date. He just doesn't want to think of the sixteen year old boy desperate for his seventeen year old attention.
“I did,” Jun tells him, face sincere. “Years ago.”
“You did?”
“Well, I didn't tell you.”
“Oh.”
Jun holds out his hand, offering to seal the strange little truce, but when Sho takes his hand, he doesn't want to let go, twining his fingers with Jun instead of giving a handshake. Jun's not entirely stunned, and Sho has to remember what breathing's like.
“Let me...” Sho's embarrassed, feeling his face flush. “If we share again...”
Jun interrupts, squeezing his hand and letting it go. “I'll hold you to that,” he says with a wry smile before heading off for home.
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho
Summary: Something "happened" in their younger Jun-fanboying-Sho days that they've tried to forget, but all the 10 year anniversary interviews brush away some cobwebs.
Notes/Warnings: For JE Smut/Kink Meme Nov. 09. Another of my own prompts that I filled out - I couldn't help myself, yo.
The reporter from Wink Up is sitting there with the tape recorder in hand, and Sho asks her to repeat the question.
“I'm sorry,” she says automatically. It's another tenth year anniversary question, probably the tenth or twentieth time he's been asked these things. “The question was, is there anything in these ten years in Arashi that you regret?”
He licks his lips and takes a sip of water. He remembers the hotel room, the scent of the cheap shampoo, and well-meaning fingers stroking him under the sheet.
“No,” he says, flashing the idol smile they pay him for. “Absolutely no regrets.”
-
Must have had a bad dream because Jun's next to him in the bed now. Sho would normally be confused, alarmed at someone else under the covers with him. Sure, most of the juniors had been close, and it was obvious even to him that Jun kind of liked him. But they were debuted now, they had to work together all the time.
But he doesn't tell Jun to go.
-
He can hear Jun approaching, flip flops slapping against the tiles while they wait for wardrobe to set out their outfits for the Shukudai filming. Jun's got on a sideways cap, and he's carrying a script. Sho turns his attention back to his laptop, scrolls through a few more news articles as Jun sits at the table across from him.
Jun studies his script, chewing on a pen cap, and Sho listens to him turn the pages. Jun doesn't realize he's actually saying some of the lines out loud, under his breath. Sho listens, clicking through some sports scores, wishing that he could give Wink Up a call and say yeah...yeah, there was something he regretted.
-
Jun's eager to please, and Sho's still so tired from whatever bad dream is fading quickly that Jun's mouth dragging lazily across his face doesn't register right away. He turns, and Jun's lips meet the corner of his mouth. “Are you okay, Sho-kun?”
The other guy's in his bed. Christ, he's seventeen and there's another guy in his bed with him. “Had a bad dream,” he admits, still so confused.
Jun, all gangly limbs and smiles with a bit of temper not unlike the one Sho himself has, is under the covers with him, wiggling his way along Sho's side. “I'm here.”
They're Arashi now, and Jun can't be doing this, but Sho likes the feeling of Jun's breath on his face in the dark, likes the way Jun's fingers are reaching to twine with his own.
-
“Did you do the Wink Up already for this month?” he asks, almost out of nowhere, looking over the top of his laptop screen to see Jun nod. He's completely engrossed in his script, dragging the pen cap along his lower lip, teeth marks having munched most of the cap into a flatter state. “Another ten year interview.”
“Yep,” Jun says.
Sho looks away, focuses on a smudge on his laptop screen. “Did you have the regret question? The whole if you could do anything differently question?”
“Yep.”
He nods, finding another smudge to draw his annoyance. “I should have said I regretted the plastic outfits. Or maybe the vegetable thing.”
Jun snorts. “The plastic suit? When you looked so good in it?”
He looks up at Jun's change in tone, at the small smile hiding at the edges of his mouth, feels a shiver down his spine. He regrets that he can't tell Jun he's sorry.
-
Sho kisses back, pretty unsure about the whole thing as Jun moves to straddle him. Each kiss lasts maybe a second longer than the one that came before it. He can feel it between his legs - his brain's a bit muddled, but his body's responding to his band mate lying on top of him in the dark.
“Do you like me at all?” Jun asks, wanting affection, wanting Sho to be his fan just the same.
“I don't know,” Sho says honestly. Jun's not heavy, but Sho feels weird with another boy on top, so he moves them to their sides. Jun starts to use his tongue, starts to demand a bit more attention, and Sho worries that this will turn into something they'll feel bad about doing in the morning.
He groans as Jun moves one of his long, skinny legs over Sho's hip, grinding himself against Sho's crotch. “What are you doing?” Sho wonders, starting to panic over how much he likes the way Jun's mouth lingers on his jaw.
Jun just puts a finger to Sho's lips, continuing to rub himself against Sho. Even through their pajamas, it feels really good, and Sho doesn't want to stop.
-
“Do you ever...” Sho interrupts again, and by now, Jun seems a bit pissed off that Sho keeps talking to him when he's got lines to learn. “...think about the debut? How crazy it all was?”
Jun lets the brim of his hat cover his eyes. “All the time.” Sho realizes that Jun's probably thinking the same thing, and the emptiness of the green room makes it all the more obvious. Sure, debut time was crazy. It was sudden and strange, and there were five of them, none of them even 20, and they were expected to just make sense.
But how could things make sense when they were 16, 17 years old and didn't even know who they were and what they wanted and who they wanted to be? His eyes lose focus on the laptop screen.
“That night,” Sho admits. “I haven't thought about it for a while. I don't know why I keep thinking about it.”
Jun looks embarrassed. Sho does what he usually does. He keeps talking.
“I'm sorry to bring it up. It's all this anniversary stuff. They're making us remember things, showing us pictures from when we were still juniors, just debuted, that sort of thing,” he continues. “I was a different person then.” I didn't notice just how much you meant it, he thinks.
“We both were,” Jun says, his voice harder, more dismissive.
-
They explore, hands clumsy as they skim over forearms and elbows and collarbones and rib bones. Jun seems so happy to have Sho's hands on him, and he's breathing heavily, enough for Sho to feel a bit dizzy. Jun's the first to go for it, to run his hand along the waistband of Sho's pajama bottoms and reach inside. He jerks at the feeling of Jun's hand there, grasping and pulling in a bit more awkward way than Sho himself did it.
“Matsujun, what are you doing?” he asks again, but Jun kisses him quiet, stroking him up and down, swallowing up Sho's moans with his mouth.
It doesn't take long for him to come, messy and warm all over Jun's insistent hand. He crashes, still not entirely out of sleep. Kissing Jun, touching Jun, it's all been like some kind of fog. He doesn't even think that Jun might appreciate some attention in return because the next thing Sho remembers is waking up the next morning in his hotel bed by himself, and Jun's buried under a mound of blankets in the other bed.
He doesn't think about what happened because they're Arashi, and they all have to be friends now, they all have to work together now. So he doesn't think about it, and he and Jun seem to cool off towards one another. But they smile and put their arms around each other for photos. It's just how it works.
-
The others arrive in the green room shortly thereafter, and the discussion is seemingly closed. It's not worth regretting - they were both young, things happen. The group's stronger now than it ever has been, but Sho has the realization now that what he could have had ten years ago, well...it had been nice. He'd gone and ignored it, leaving Jun to flounder a bit.
He feels like an idiot when he pulls Jun aside after filming, feeling the strangest sensation in his belly. The past months they've gotten along surprisingly well - it could just be the high of reaching ten years, but something's different now and the interview's only made it more obvious.
“There is something,” he tells Jun.
“What do you mean?” and Jun's watching him, studying him. Jun's not all smiles and gangly limbs now - he's an adult and he's serious, observant.
“Something I regret from the past ten years,” he admits, stammering. “I regret that I never...I regret just leaving it at what it was. And I'm sorry.”
Jun doesn't say anything, not yet. He's letting Sho's words sink in, fill the space between them that's been there for a decade, and they've been so busy and involved with the group as the group that they haven't noticed.
Sho meets his eyes. “Could you forgive me?” He's not asking for a fresh start, he's not asking Jun on a date. He just doesn't want to think of the sixteen year old boy desperate for his seventeen year old attention.
“I did,” Jun tells him, face sincere. “Years ago.”
“You did?”
“Well, I didn't tell you.”
“Oh.”
Jun holds out his hand, offering to seal the strange little truce, but when Sho takes his hand, he doesn't want to let go, twining his fingers with Jun instead of giving a handshake. Jun's not entirely stunned, and Sho has to remember what breathing's like.
“Let me...” Sho's embarrassed, feeling his face flush. “If we share again...”
Jun interrupts, squeezing his hand and letting it go. “I'll hold you to that,” he says with a wry smile before heading off for home.