arashi fic: anseo
Anseo (Irish for present/here)
Pairings: Aiba/Jun and Jun/Sho
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,156
Because I’m not doing je_holiday. I was wondering what to do about this but I ended up writing this instead. I... actually don’t like it.
Jun decides to bypass the fist of people just beyond the set after his fourth consecutive bow; Jun is usually unfailingly polite but the echinacea he’d taken in the morning hasn’t worked as well as it usually does and he just wants to close his eyes for a moment. It’s one in the morning. He’s already inside his dressing room when he notices Aiba who is smiling guilelessly, big and upside down at him from the tiny couch.
“Jun!” Aiba cries, righting himself in single lithe movement and scrambling off the couch. He’s in front of Jun in three strides and Jun doesn’t have time to even exhale surprise as Aiba briefly nuzzles his cheek with his nose (cold, Aiba gets cold easily).
“I brought you that tea you like,” Aiba says as he tugs Jun over to the couch and busily fusses around until Jun’s head is in his lap and Jun’s drifting off to sleep, the warm tumbler wedged comfortably between his back and the couch, Aiba stroking his hair and making little purry noises in his throat. Jun’s glad that filming is over for the drama and that all the product in his hair is currently being scrunched around by Aiba’s fingers.
Aiba commandeers his car keys and drives them back to Jun’s place. Jun dozes a little beside him; Aiba is an excellent driver and he knows the security guard will wave him through, recognizing him. They take turns to use the shower and Jun’s already in bed, covers to his chin, when Aiba steps out in a waft of lavender. Jun’s set out his pyjamas for him and very soon Aiba is wriggling into position beside him, carefully tucking his feet underneath Jun’s.
Jun knows better, he’s getting a cold, but Aiba’s mouth is like honey beneath his and Jun can’t stop touching him everywhere. The light is buttery on Aiba’s burnished skin and Jun feels like licking the heavy, vivid flush off Aiba’s cheeks and chest.
Aiba drags his lower lip, cherry-red, along Jun’s cock, from base to crown. His eyes are like black volcanic rock, glittering with an ardent curiosity as he glosses the satiny tip with his tongue lightly, purposefully, and elicits another noise- ah, so this is how Jun sounds like when I do this.
They’ve been doing this with each other for a few months. They’ve never really talked about it. Their actions are still governed by punctiliousness about their personal affairs, inculcated from a young age, and so the rest haven’t picked up on it either.
Aiba has always been luminous, irresistible, and Jun feels as if he’s always been in his orbit. The only difference now is that they form a binary system in mutual orbit, like stars that are gravitationally bound to each other. Jun’s always been a little of a romantic.
He kisses Aiba full on the mouth, fingers grazing the rondure of Aiba’s cheeks. Aiba stirs a little in his slumber, but doesn’t wake. Jun fluffs his own pillow and falls asleep thinking of Sleeping Beauty.
Aiba is running himself ragged juggling his drama filming and the rehearsals for their concerts, not to mention the various magazine interviews and photo shoots. They don’t manage to get very much time alone to themselves but Aiba says simply, over and over again, to anybody who’ll listen, that he’s grateful to have been given the opportunities he’s been given and he’ll work hard. Jun’s slightly freer than the rest of the members, he has only the rehearsals to contend with. Sho has his newscaster duties, Ohno is wrapping up filming for his drama and Nino’s just done with his butai. He pours himself into organizing the details of the concert, staying behind late every night. In another few days they’ll be embarking on another project together as Arashi and Jun wants to finetune as much as he can now.
Ohno has turned off his mobile and Nino hasn’t replied and Jun decides to drop in on Sho. He knows that the other would be just done with the taping of News Zero and will easily agree to go for drinks with Jun at this hour. Jun’s buzzed on the stimulation of planning their own concerts and he wants to talk about it all and he knows Sho will listen attentively and interject with his own opinions. It is all par of the course.
What isn’t though, is how Sho’s sentences get increasingly pithier with every drink. Jun’s a little disquieted. He doesn’t exactly know how to handle Sho when he gets like this; that’s always been Aiba’s job. Nino would know how to cajole Sho out of his bad mood and Jun can’t envision Ohno being in this position at all. Sho’s tie lies loose around his neck and his cuffs are rolled up- there is a cowlick framing his face and Jun impetuously reaches out to brush it away.
“Jun,” Sho says, a little slurred, color high on his cheekbones.
Jun is about to respond when Sho stands unsteadily on his feet and stumbles within the space of a breath. Jun shoots his arm out to catch him, reflexively, ineffectually. Sho falls heavily on him and makes no attempt to move. Up close, Sho’s skin is creamy, almost pearlescent under the glow of the lamps. Jun’s about to shoulder him off when Sho moves his head and Jun feels cool fingers skimming the side of his neck, before a starburst of heat as Sho sucks on skin with exquisite care, nibbling slowly and deliberately. Jun’s pinned to the chaise longue, shivering involuntarily as Sho lifts the hem of his shirt and slides his tongue into Jun’s mouth.
Sho kisses like a wet dream.
All these years Jun’s never thought that he’d feel Sho’s erection against his through layers of clothing. He’s breathing unevenly, urgency riding his motions as he pushes Sho away jerkily and steps out of their private booth.
Streetlights whip by, sending pulses of light over their faces in the taxi. Jun holds himself perfectly still as Sho touches his hand when he gets out.
Jun doesn’t get much sleep that night. He feels mildly betrayed and he doesn’t even know why.
Jun struggles with his composure whenever Sho is around in the next few days. It’s as though he is sixteen all over again, only this time Sho’s seeing him, properly looking at him, the way he was desperate for for so long. Sho’s eyes linger on him, dark and intent and Jun shifts uncomfortably, aware of the heat chasing over his body. He feels caught up in the eddies of Sho’s inscrutable gaze and stumbles over the most inane conversation he can muster, painfully aware of Sho’s electric presence, a contiguity that swirls.
They are practising their dance steps and Jun is distracted, slipping up more often than not. Aiba is wearing a face mask and his eyes are fever-bright as he dances, all molten grace. Nino is humming as Ohno helpfully rearranges his limbs from behind him. Jun instinctively flinches as he brushes against Sho in passing.
Aiba follows him home at the end of the night. He’s been oddly subdued; his packed schedule has been taking a toll.
“Jun,” he mumbles. He’s been twisting the hem of his shirt around nervously and his voice is gravelly as he haltingly asks, “Jun, do you want to sleep with Sho?”
Jun suddenly feels the room is gelid; his movements are leaden as he turns and looks at Aiba. His chest feels congested. He can’t think of anything to say and Aiba forges ahead.
“Because, you can, if you want to. I don’t mind, really.”
Jun drops his head into his hands. “Masaki,” he chokes out.
“I’m not stupid, I mean, I know I can be but-”
Jun can’t even breathe.
“Masaki.”
“It’s Sho-chan. He deserves to be happy too. I, it’s Sho-chan, Jun.”
He doesn’t know what to do. He thinks his voice will crack if he were to say something, anything. Aiba, who is brilliant like the sun, laughter and-
He pulls Aiba into his arms and kisses him desperately, the sweet familiarity of the taste spurring him on, running his hands all over his back. Aiba is unresisting and Jun whispers, over and over again, no, no, I didn’t mean, Masaki, I’m sorry, so sorry.
Aiba is pliable, hands coming up in turn to wind themselves in Jun’s hair. “Jun,” and his voice catches in his throat, “Do you like Sho more than you do me?”
Jun’s heart breaks and he doesn’t answer with words; he takes Aiba to bed and makes Aiba cry out in prolonged pleasure, mouthing the head of his flushed, curved cock. Aiba’s bangs are matted to his forehead with sweat as he arches off the bed in ecstasy, Jun sheathed inside him, quivering with the self-control needed to not come right there and then.
Jun ignores Sho for the next week, he’s skittish when Sho directly addresses him and he spends most of the time that they are in the same place pressed up against Ohno’s shoulder who doesn’t appear at all fazed by having gained a new appendage.
Jun’s mind is riotous with everything that has transpired and he just wants to sit down for a moment and smooth it blank, like canvas. He’s alone in the green room smoking when Sho comes in, locking the door behind him. Jun starts and makes to leave when Sho blocks his path. “Matsumoto.”
And then Sho’s mouth descends on his, all silky heat. Jun doesn’t have time to think, only feel. He manages a single No before the front of his pants is palmed roughly and his resulting moan, long and low. The next thing he knows, they’re on the floor, kissing wildly.
Sho’s panting harshly as he asks, “Do you have anything? I’ve never done this before.” The bolt of lust that goes through Jun at those words is staggering. He’s dizzy with it and Sho already has his cock out. Jun’s own cock jerks to leak against his briefs as Sho scrapes the column of his throat with his teeth.
Sho tastes like rain on his tongue.
Jun’s enervated. He lapses into monosyllabicity and doesn’t even look up when somebody comments on how wan he looks.
“Making the beast with two backs in the green room tends to do that to a person,” Nino drawls out laconically, almost offhandedly.
Jun freezes.
Silence blows through the room like a desert wind.
Nino’s eyes are darting between Sho, Jun and Aiba. Jun can almost hear the click as everything falls into place in his mind. Sho’s face is completely stricken in the wake of a realization gained too late.
Jun’s eyes are fixed on Aiba, and the silver glide of tears over Aiba’s white face, before Aiba turns abruptly and runs out of the room.
“Fuck,” Nino curses, as he takes off after him, not bothering to spare Jun a glance.
Sho leaves the room a couple of moments after.
Jun sinks heavily back into the couch, grinding his knuckles into his eyes.
“Jun,” Ohno says and places a hand on his back. Jun feels the weight of that single word bearing down on him.
They’ve been together for more than a decade. They have never even fought before, and that doesn’t change now. Jun never becomes privy to what Aiba and Sho talk about but everything is normal the next day. Aiba slips his hand into Jun’s as they walk down the hallway together, silently shaking his head when Jun invariably tries to talk about it, to follow up on all the unanswered calls and sent emails of last night. Nino is decidedly cool to him for a couple of days. Sho apologizes to Jun awkwardly. Ohno is a vigilant presence. They are Arashi and they’re always going to be Arashi. They go on, just like they always have. Jun throws himself into work and falls into bed exhausted every night.
The first day of their anniversary tour is exhilarating. The noise is deafening, bouncing around Kokuritsu, it’s one of the best concerts they’ve ever had. Ohno surprisingly speaks more than they expected him to. Aiba looks drunk on the excitement of it all and Nino even looks a little manic. Sho’s hand is warm and solid in Jun’s as the five of them link arms and wave at the enormous tract of the stadium.
The dressing room is empty when Jun enters. He took the last shower, the rest are probably already at the restaurant for the celebratory dinner. He’s packing his belongings when his eyes fall on a familiar looking tumbler beside his bag. He picks it up. It’s toasty to touch and filled with a whiskey-colored liquid.
Jun doesn’t realize he’s crying until his tears are falling fast and unchecked into his lap.
Pairings: Aiba/Jun and Jun/Sho
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,156
Because I’m not doing je_holiday. I was wondering what to do about this but I ended up writing this instead. I... actually don’t like it.
Jun decides to bypass the fist of people just beyond the set after his fourth consecutive bow; Jun is usually unfailingly polite but the echinacea he’d taken in the morning hasn’t worked as well as it usually does and he just wants to close his eyes for a moment. It’s one in the morning. He’s already inside his dressing room when he notices Aiba who is smiling guilelessly, big and upside down at him from the tiny couch.
“Jun!” Aiba cries, righting himself in single lithe movement and scrambling off the couch. He’s in front of Jun in three strides and Jun doesn’t have time to even exhale surprise as Aiba briefly nuzzles his cheek with his nose (cold, Aiba gets cold easily).
“I brought you that tea you like,” Aiba says as he tugs Jun over to the couch and busily fusses around until Jun’s head is in his lap and Jun’s drifting off to sleep, the warm tumbler wedged comfortably between his back and the couch, Aiba stroking his hair and making little purry noises in his throat. Jun’s glad that filming is over for the drama and that all the product in his hair is currently being scrunched around by Aiba’s fingers.
Aiba commandeers his car keys and drives them back to Jun’s place. Jun dozes a little beside him; Aiba is an excellent driver and he knows the security guard will wave him through, recognizing him. They take turns to use the shower and Jun’s already in bed, covers to his chin, when Aiba steps out in a waft of lavender. Jun’s set out his pyjamas for him and very soon Aiba is wriggling into position beside him, carefully tucking his feet underneath Jun’s.
Jun knows better, he’s getting a cold, but Aiba’s mouth is like honey beneath his and Jun can’t stop touching him everywhere. The light is buttery on Aiba’s burnished skin and Jun feels like licking the heavy, vivid flush off Aiba’s cheeks and chest.
Aiba drags his lower lip, cherry-red, along Jun’s cock, from base to crown. His eyes are like black volcanic rock, glittering with an ardent curiosity as he glosses the satiny tip with his tongue lightly, purposefully, and elicits another noise- ah, so this is how Jun sounds like when I do this.
They’ve been doing this with each other for a few months. They’ve never really talked about it. Their actions are still governed by punctiliousness about their personal affairs, inculcated from a young age, and so the rest haven’t picked up on it either.
Aiba has always been luminous, irresistible, and Jun feels as if he’s always been in his orbit. The only difference now is that they form a binary system in mutual orbit, like stars that are gravitationally bound to each other. Jun’s always been a little of a romantic.
He kisses Aiba full on the mouth, fingers grazing the rondure of Aiba’s cheeks. Aiba stirs a little in his slumber, but doesn’t wake. Jun fluffs his own pillow and falls asleep thinking of Sleeping Beauty.
Aiba is running himself ragged juggling his drama filming and the rehearsals for their concerts, not to mention the various magazine interviews and photo shoots. They don’t manage to get very much time alone to themselves but Aiba says simply, over and over again, to anybody who’ll listen, that he’s grateful to have been given the opportunities he’s been given and he’ll work hard. Jun’s slightly freer than the rest of the members, he has only the rehearsals to contend with. Sho has his newscaster duties, Ohno is wrapping up filming for his drama and Nino’s just done with his butai. He pours himself into organizing the details of the concert, staying behind late every night. In another few days they’ll be embarking on another project together as Arashi and Jun wants to finetune as much as he can now.
Ohno has turned off his mobile and Nino hasn’t replied and Jun decides to drop in on Sho. He knows that the other would be just done with the taping of News Zero and will easily agree to go for drinks with Jun at this hour. Jun’s buzzed on the stimulation of planning their own concerts and he wants to talk about it all and he knows Sho will listen attentively and interject with his own opinions. It is all par of the course.
What isn’t though, is how Sho’s sentences get increasingly pithier with every drink. Jun’s a little disquieted. He doesn’t exactly know how to handle Sho when he gets like this; that’s always been Aiba’s job. Nino would know how to cajole Sho out of his bad mood and Jun can’t envision Ohno being in this position at all. Sho’s tie lies loose around his neck and his cuffs are rolled up- there is a cowlick framing his face and Jun impetuously reaches out to brush it away.
“Jun,” Sho says, a little slurred, color high on his cheekbones.
Jun is about to respond when Sho stands unsteadily on his feet and stumbles within the space of a breath. Jun shoots his arm out to catch him, reflexively, ineffectually. Sho falls heavily on him and makes no attempt to move. Up close, Sho’s skin is creamy, almost pearlescent under the glow of the lamps. Jun’s about to shoulder him off when Sho moves his head and Jun feels cool fingers skimming the side of his neck, before a starburst of heat as Sho sucks on skin with exquisite care, nibbling slowly and deliberately. Jun’s pinned to the chaise longue, shivering involuntarily as Sho lifts the hem of his shirt and slides his tongue into Jun’s mouth.
Sho kisses like a wet dream.
All these years Jun’s never thought that he’d feel Sho’s erection against his through layers of clothing. He’s breathing unevenly, urgency riding his motions as he pushes Sho away jerkily and steps out of their private booth.
Streetlights whip by, sending pulses of light over their faces in the taxi. Jun holds himself perfectly still as Sho touches his hand when he gets out.
Jun doesn’t get much sleep that night. He feels mildly betrayed and he doesn’t even know why.
Jun struggles with his composure whenever Sho is around in the next few days. It’s as though he is sixteen all over again, only this time Sho’s seeing him, properly looking at him, the way he was desperate for for so long. Sho’s eyes linger on him, dark and intent and Jun shifts uncomfortably, aware of the heat chasing over his body. He feels caught up in the eddies of Sho’s inscrutable gaze and stumbles over the most inane conversation he can muster, painfully aware of Sho’s electric presence, a contiguity that swirls.
They are practising their dance steps and Jun is distracted, slipping up more often than not. Aiba is wearing a face mask and his eyes are fever-bright as he dances, all molten grace. Nino is humming as Ohno helpfully rearranges his limbs from behind him. Jun instinctively flinches as he brushes against Sho in passing.
Aiba follows him home at the end of the night. He’s been oddly subdued; his packed schedule has been taking a toll.
“Jun,” he mumbles. He’s been twisting the hem of his shirt around nervously and his voice is gravelly as he haltingly asks, “Jun, do you want to sleep with Sho?”
Jun suddenly feels the room is gelid; his movements are leaden as he turns and looks at Aiba. His chest feels congested. He can’t think of anything to say and Aiba forges ahead.
“Because, you can, if you want to. I don’t mind, really.”
Jun drops his head into his hands. “Masaki,” he chokes out.
“I’m not stupid, I mean, I know I can be but-”
Jun can’t even breathe.
“Masaki.”
“It’s Sho-chan. He deserves to be happy too. I, it’s Sho-chan, Jun.”
He doesn’t know what to do. He thinks his voice will crack if he were to say something, anything. Aiba, who is brilliant like the sun, laughter and-
He pulls Aiba into his arms and kisses him desperately, the sweet familiarity of the taste spurring him on, running his hands all over his back. Aiba is unresisting and Jun whispers, over and over again, no, no, I didn’t mean, Masaki, I’m sorry, so sorry.
Aiba is pliable, hands coming up in turn to wind themselves in Jun’s hair. “Jun,” and his voice catches in his throat, “Do you like Sho more than you do me?”
Jun’s heart breaks and he doesn’t answer with words; he takes Aiba to bed and makes Aiba cry out in prolonged pleasure, mouthing the head of his flushed, curved cock. Aiba’s bangs are matted to his forehead with sweat as he arches off the bed in ecstasy, Jun sheathed inside him, quivering with the self-control needed to not come right there and then.
Jun ignores Sho for the next week, he’s skittish when Sho directly addresses him and he spends most of the time that they are in the same place pressed up against Ohno’s shoulder who doesn’t appear at all fazed by having gained a new appendage.
Jun’s mind is riotous with everything that has transpired and he just wants to sit down for a moment and smooth it blank, like canvas. He’s alone in the green room smoking when Sho comes in, locking the door behind him. Jun starts and makes to leave when Sho blocks his path. “Matsumoto.”
And then Sho’s mouth descends on his, all silky heat. Jun doesn’t have time to think, only feel. He manages a single No before the front of his pants is palmed roughly and his resulting moan, long and low. The next thing he knows, they’re on the floor, kissing wildly.
Sho’s panting harshly as he asks, “Do you have anything? I’ve never done this before.” The bolt of lust that goes through Jun at those words is staggering. He’s dizzy with it and Sho already has his cock out. Jun’s own cock jerks to leak against his briefs as Sho scrapes the column of his throat with his teeth.
Sho tastes like rain on his tongue.
Jun’s enervated. He lapses into monosyllabicity and doesn’t even look up when somebody comments on how wan he looks.
“Making the beast with two backs in the green room tends to do that to a person,” Nino drawls out laconically, almost offhandedly.
Jun freezes.
Silence blows through the room like a desert wind.
Nino’s eyes are darting between Sho, Jun and Aiba. Jun can almost hear the click as everything falls into place in his mind. Sho’s face is completely stricken in the wake of a realization gained too late.
Jun’s eyes are fixed on Aiba, and the silver glide of tears over Aiba’s white face, before Aiba turns abruptly and runs out of the room.
“Fuck,” Nino curses, as he takes off after him, not bothering to spare Jun a glance.
Sho leaves the room a couple of moments after.
Jun sinks heavily back into the couch, grinding his knuckles into his eyes.
“Jun,” Ohno says and places a hand on his back. Jun feels the weight of that single word bearing down on him.
They’ve been together for more than a decade. They have never even fought before, and that doesn’t change now. Jun never becomes privy to what Aiba and Sho talk about but everything is normal the next day. Aiba slips his hand into Jun’s as they walk down the hallway together, silently shaking his head when Jun invariably tries to talk about it, to follow up on all the unanswered calls and sent emails of last night. Nino is decidedly cool to him for a couple of days. Sho apologizes to Jun awkwardly. Ohno is a vigilant presence. They are Arashi and they’re always going to be Arashi. They go on, just like they always have. Jun throws himself into work and falls into bed exhausted every night.
The first day of their anniversary tour is exhilarating. The noise is deafening, bouncing around Kokuritsu, it’s one of the best concerts they’ve ever had. Ohno surprisingly speaks more than they expected him to. Aiba looks drunk on the excitement of it all and Nino even looks a little manic. Sho’s hand is warm and solid in Jun’s as the five of them link arms and wave at the enormous tract of the stadium.
The dressing room is empty when Jun enters. He took the last shower, the rest are probably already at the restaurant for the celebratory dinner. He’s packing his belongings when his eyes fall on a familiar looking tumbler beside his bag. He picks it up. It’s toasty to touch and filled with a whiskey-colored liquid.
Jun doesn’t realize he’s crying until his tears are falling fast and unchecked into his lap.