and i love [arashi rps]
and i love
Aiba/Jun | 嵐 RPS | PG | ~1,100 words
Written as comment fic for omnipresentdmat; posted here.
Butai practice runs late and Aiba is exhausted by the time he stumbles out of the side door of the theater. With the first performances now just days away, he can feel the tension rising amongst the cast and crew; everything feels more immediate now, feels more important.
He's excited, yes, but tired, so tired. He can sleep in a little tomorrow, he doesn't have anything except a variety show taping and an interview and a commercial filming - which is quite a lot, but really not bad these days. In any case, he can sleep in and have a relaxed breakfast, he doesn't really have to be anywhere until at least 1:00PM.
He had been shuttled to rehearsal straight from a VS taping and he had planned on simply catching a train home straight from the theater. Somehow, that idea seems a lot less appealing now. He zips up his jacket against the February chill, wishing that he had worn a warmer scarf. He's still wondering if he should try to get a taxi when he finally notices Jun waving at him impatiently from the open window of his car. Aiba grins, surprised, jogging over to where Jun is parked. It's just like Jun to wear sunglasses at night.
"What brings you here?" Aiba asks teasingly when he finally gets to the car. Jun opens the passenger door for him and Aiba slides in, chucking his bag into the backseat. Jun's car is neat and smells clean. Aiba keeps his relatively neat too - it was pretty expensive, after all - but that doesn't mean there isn't the occasional stray article of clothing or empty water bottle rattling around on the floor.
Jun smiles, turning the key in the ignition. "I was out anyways."
"Drinking?" Aiba asks. He's too far away to tell from smell alone, and Jun doesn't seem to be particularly drunk. He was usually a lot more bossy and violent. He had been texting Jun during a break and Jun had texted back that he was with Nishikado. Aiba realizes that he had complained a little in his text about taking the train home in the cold and dark.
"You didn't have to come all this way for me," he protests, feeling embarrassed. "I could have taken the train."
Jun snorts, the passing city lights painting his face as they drive. "Don't be stupid. I don't mind."
Aiba smiles. There was the bossiness, after all. He shivers involuntarily, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets and Jun turns up the heat a little. "I could just go home with you," he suggests, keeping his voice teasing. "That would be so much easier."
"For who?" Jun replies sarcastically, but he's already driving in the direction of his apartment. Aiba relaxes back into his seat (Jun's car has heated seats, which are amazing during the winter), watching the city lights go by, feeling his eyes grow heavier.
He barely realizes that he's dozed off at all until they're in the parking garage of Jun's building and Jun is gently shaking him awake. He leans against Jun a little up the elevator, down the corridors. Jun smells like beer and his new olive oil shampoo and the sharp, almost smoky cold of winter.
Aiba likes this a little: he and Jun have a fairly comfortable relationship, about as balanced and normal as they can manage. It's a first for Aiba, being with a guy, and intially he thought it would be really weird. It isn't, surprisingly - actually, not much has changed since they started having sex other than the small things, the subtle things. Jun doesn't keep his distance quite as much when they're alone together, he'll let Aiba lean up against him, he'll slip his arms around Aiba's waist or pet his hair gently. He still hits him and scolds him and calls him an idiot, but Aiba's known Jun long enough to know that those too, are his ways of showing his love.
Somehow, though, he likes being spoiled a little, likes Jun's unexpected softness and kindness. It's rare enough that when it happens, it makes Aiba feel strangely warm and content, and so special.
Once they're in his apartment, Jun gently shoves Aiba off of him and towards his bathroom to take a shower. Aiba lets the water run to almost scalding, chasing away the dreary gray February chill that feels like it's seeped into his bones. By the time he's finished, skin scrubbed pink and warm all over, he finds Jun in the kitchen, carefully setting out a bowl of reheated slow-cooked beef stew and trying to toast half a baguette in the oven.
"'Fanks," Aiba says around a mouthful of stew, and Jun only takes another moment to tell him to chew, you moron and pour him a glass of juice before leaving Aiba to eat in the cozy silence of Jun's kitchen. Jun always says that his apartment feels so cold and large and empty, but Aiba likes how he can see little flashes of Jun everywhere: in the carefully polished pots and pans, in the expensive wine cooler, in the crisp, freshly washed sheets of his bed.
By the time Jun emerges from soaking in the bath, wet hair sticking out around his ears, Aiba has already burrowed himself in Jun's bed, toes wriggling against the cool sheets and breathing in the scent of clean sheets-Jun-sleep, napping in the dark bedroom. He's deliberately resting his head against Jun's favourite pillow, partly because it's the softest and partly because he knows that Jun will fuss and complain, but will ultimately let Aiba have his way and share the pillow.
Jun tsks and grabs a pair of pyjama pants from his dresser and puts them on, shoving Aiba over a little so he can get into bed. Aiba latches onto Jun's waist, clinging in a state of half-sleep and letting Jun shift them both around until he's comfortably spooned around Aiba's back, solid and warm, one hand resting on Aiba's chest, just over his heart.
"I love you," Aiba says quietly, because these soft, perfect moments in which he can barely believe how loved, how well-cared for he is, and how little he gives back, are those in which he can say that without feeling stupid. He knows that Jun will let him steal silly morning kisses, will make him his favourite foods for breakfast, will let Aiba steal his designer jeans to wear in the morning. He feels like he might burst if he doesn't say it.
Jun doesn't answer, but he kisses the back of Aiba's neck, arms tightening around Aiba. "Get some sleep," he whispers into Aiba's hair.
And Aiba does, letting sleep drag away at his body and mind until he's too tired to focus on the warmth of Jun's arm against his skin, the gentle beat of his heart and the soft sounds of his breaths.
cross-posted to kotobayori
Aiba/Jun | 嵐 RPS | PG | ~1,100 words
Written as comment fic for omnipresentdmat; posted here.
Butai practice runs late and Aiba is exhausted by the time he stumbles out of the side door of the theater. With the first performances now just days away, he can feel the tension rising amongst the cast and crew; everything feels more immediate now, feels more important.
He's excited, yes, but tired, so tired. He can sleep in a little tomorrow, he doesn't have anything except a variety show taping and an interview and a commercial filming - which is quite a lot, but really not bad these days. In any case, he can sleep in and have a relaxed breakfast, he doesn't really have to be anywhere until at least 1:00PM.
He had been shuttled to rehearsal straight from a VS taping and he had planned on simply catching a train home straight from the theater. Somehow, that idea seems a lot less appealing now. He zips up his jacket against the February chill, wishing that he had worn a warmer scarf. He's still wondering if he should try to get a taxi when he finally notices Jun waving at him impatiently from the open window of his car. Aiba grins, surprised, jogging over to where Jun is parked. It's just like Jun to wear sunglasses at night.
"What brings you here?" Aiba asks teasingly when he finally gets to the car. Jun opens the passenger door for him and Aiba slides in, chucking his bag into the backseat. Jun's car is neat and smells clean. Aiba keeps his relatively neat too - it was pretty expensive, after all - but that doesn't mean there isn't the occasional stray article of clothing or empty water bottle rattling around on the floor.
Jun smiles, turning the key in the ignition. "I was out anyways."
"Drinking?" Aiba asks. He's too far away to tell from smell alone, and Jun doesn't seem to be particularly drunk. He was usually a lot more bossy and violent. He had been texting Jun during a break and Jun had texted back that he was with Nishikado. Aiba realizes that he had complained a little in his text about taking the train home in the cold and dark.
"You didn't have to come all this way for me," he protests, feeling embarrassed. "I could have taken the train."
Jun snorts, the passing city lights painting his face as they drive. "Don't be stupid. I don't mind."
Aiba smiles. There was the bossiness, after all. He shivers involuntarily, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets and Jun turns up the heat a little. "I could just go home with you," he suggests, keeping his voice teasing. "That would be so much easier."
"For who?" Jun replies sarcastically, but he's already driving in the direction of his apartment. Aiba relaxes back into his seat (Jun's car has heated seats, which are amazing during the winter), watching the city lights go by, feeling his eyes grow heavier.
He barely realizes that he's dozed off at all until they're in the parking garage of Jun's building and Jun is gently shaking him awake. He leans against Jun a little up the elevator, down the corridors. Jun smells like beer and his new olive oil shampoo and the sharp, almost smoky cold of winter.
Aiba likes this a little: he and Jun have a fairly comfortable relationship, about as balanced and normal as they can manage. It's a first for Aiba, being with a guy, and intially he thought it would be really weird. It isn't, surprisingly - actually, not much has changed since they started having sex other than the small things, the subtle things. Jun doesn't keep his distance quite as much when they're alone together, he'll let Aiba lean up against him, he'll slip his arms around Aiba's waist or pet his hair gently. He still hits him and scolds him and calls him an idiot, but Aiba's known Jun long enough to know that those too, are his ways of showing his love.
Somehow, though, he likes being spoiled a little, likes Jun's unexpected softness and kindness. It's rare enough that when it happens, it makes Aiba feel strangely warm and content, and so special.
Once they're in his apartment, Jun gently shoves Aiba off of him and towards his bathroom to take a shower. Aiba lets the water run to almost scalding, chasing away the dreary gray February chill that feels like it's seeped into his bones. By the time he's finished, skin scrubbed pink and warm all over, he finds Jun in the kitchen, carefully setting out a bowl of reheated slow-cooked beef stew and trying to toast half a baguette in the oven.
"'Fanks," Aiba says around a mouthful of stew, and Jun only takes another moment to tell him to chew, you moron and pour him a glass of juice before leaving Aiba to eat in the cozy silence of Jun's kitchen. Jun always says that his apartment feels so cold and large and empty, but Aiba likes how he can see little flashes of Jun everywhere: in the carefully polished pots and pans, in the expensive wine cooler, in the crisp, freshly washed sheets of his bed.
By the time Jun emerges from soaking in the bath, wet hair sticking out around his ears, Aiba has already burrowed himself in Jun's bed, toes wriggling against the cool sheets and breathing in the scent of clean sheets-Jun-sleep, napping in the dark bedroom. He's deliberately resting his head against Jun's favourite pillow, partly because it's the softest and partly because he knows that Jun will fuss and complain, but will ultimately let Aiba have his way and share the pillow.
Jun tsks and grabs a pair of pyjama pants from his dresser and puts them on, shoving Aiba over a little so he can get into bed. Aiba latches onto Jun's waist, clinging in a state of half-sleep and letting Jun shift them both around until he's comfortably spooned around Aiba's back, solid and warm, one hand resting on Aiba's chest, just over his heart.
"I love you," Aiba says quietly, because these soft, perfect moments in which he can barely believe how loved, how well-cared for he is, and how little he gives back, are those in which he can say that without feeling stupid. He knows that Jun will let him steal silly morning kisses, will make him his favourite foods for breakfast, will let Aiba steal his designer jeans to wear in the morning. He feels like he might burst if he doesn't say it.
Jun doesn't answer, but he kisses the back of Aiba's neck, arms tightening around Aiba. "Get some sleep," he whispers into Aiba's hair.
And Aiba does, letting sleep drag away at his body and mind until he's too tired to focus on the warmth of Jun's arm against his skin, the gentle beat of his heart and the soft sounds of his breaths.
cross-posted to kotobayori