i told the stars above (about the one i love)
Title: Pretense
Author: waxrose
Rating: R
Length: ~2,500 words
Pairing(s): Aiba/Jun
Author's Notes: It's beckerbell's birthday and I think that calls for a round of Aiba/Jun smut - it's a bit of a quick and dirty job, but I hope that you like it anyways. Many happy returns! :))) ♥ ♥ ♥ Giant hugs to crazychickencow and klena for giving this a readover on such short notice.
It's been two hours and three encores already and Jun only knows that his legs are still there because his feet ache like hell, can barely see straight past the sweat leaking into the corners of his eyes, stinging a little, wet and cool against his overheated skin.
But it's the last leg of the tour, the last concert, the last screams and cheers and neon lightsticks cutting through the stadium's semi-darkness, so Jun waves with all his effort, grinning unrestrainedly as the fans wave and scream and cry. He can hear his own voice waver, but together, their voices are strong.
Last, Jun thinks and he's so tired, he just wants a shower and a nap and a quiet room - even though this is amazing, because all he can see is a sea of lights and waves upon waves of people, all here to see them and that never stops being exciting after all this time.
There's an arm across his shoulders, suddenly, heavy and Jun didn't even hear Aiba coming, didn't see him at all. Jun glances at him quickly, leaning a little into Aiba, slipping his own arm around Aiba's waist, hand splayed across his back. The screams from the crowd in front of them grows a little more frantic and Jun grins, leaning his head towards Aiba's shoulder as they both hold the last note of Hero.
He can hear Sho and Nino screaming their thanks to the crowd as the song ends, and Jun begins to raise his own mic again to do the same.
And then -
It's all rather blurry, when Jun looks back, actually. He had to watch the footage from the cameras to really piece together what happened, rocking slowly back and forth in his chair and staring at the screen, rather glad he was alone in the room when onscreen, Aiba slowly, oh so slowly (it had seemed like less than the blink of an eye, but Jun was sure his sense of time couldn't be that skewed) cupped Jun's face in one hand, tilting their faces together and giving Jun the kind of kiss that was reserved for shoujo manga and daytime soap operas.
Jun remembers, he was there, after all, it's not like he blacked out. But it's a scattered mess of shock and sensation in his mind, like the heated skin of Aiba's fingers against his cheek, chapped lips suddenly on his, the quiet inhale-exhale of Aiba's breath.
The look in Aiba's eyes when he pulled away after what seemed like both a second and an eternity, the roars of the crowd almost deafening, both triumphant and - something, something Jun can't place, even replaying the tapes, because the camera is too far away, their faces both obscured.
The smack that Jun gives Aiba on the head right afterwards is, of course, clearly captured on the tape. It had seemed like the appropriate response, but Jun wondered if Aiba had seen past the mock rage, to Jun's shaky legs and badly hidden confusion.
Nino wolf-whistles at them as they all meet under the stage as the encore cheers begin again, grinning evilly. Jun glares at him, grabbing a water bottle from a staff member with muttered thanks.
Ohno looks amused and Sho is grinning just as widely as Nino.
"What are you, five years old?," Jun shoots at Nino, without much actual malice, as he begins to open his mouth to make some remark. Jun drains half of the water bottle as the screams above them rise in pitch.
"Aiba-chan must have been really excited, ne," Ohno chuckles, mopping his sweaty hair with Nino's towel, before hanging it around his neck.
"I'm surprised that Jun didn't push him off the stage," Sho adds, not without a bit of awe.
Aiba is in high spirits, grinning widely, radiating happiness and practically glowing. "It's a good way to finish our summer." He turns to Jun, "Well, you looked tired! I was just trying to help. And you've kissed Captain loads of times on stage, I don't know what you were so surprised about."
"It's just fanservice, Jun-chan," Nino adds, covertly patting Ohno's backside as he steals his towel back, "No need to get so worked up about it."
The staff-san signals them to get ready to go back on and they head into position, Sho playfully nudging Aiba as he ducks past him. "Everyone watch out for Aiba, huh? He's a bit weird today."
"Sho-chan's next," Aiba screams after him, and the crowd erupts into cheers as they all emerge into the half-blinding stage lights.
Jun sticks close to the main stage for the final encore, singing with Ohno while they watched Aiba chase Sho around the entire stadium stage circuit, flailing and making smacking noises.
It was different, Jun realized, as Aiba finally tackled Sho none-too-gently down onto the hanamichi and chastely kissed him on the cheek, to the approving roars of the fans. It was different and that's what was frustrating him.
Or maybe, he wanted it to be different and that - that was the most frustrating thing of all. When he kissed Leader at concerts, he enjoyed the knowing smirk on Ohno's face, the way he played along with Jun - it was fun, like a game, a trick they pulled off together. Jun liked the calm way that Ohno played along, read Jun's intentions and followed his lead.
But Aiba is different, always a little more difficult. With Aiba, it isn't just a game, which makes it even more terrifying. Jun doesn't know the rules, doesn't know if there are rules. If there are, then Aiba is making them up as he goes along, and Jun doesn't see how he can hope to win if he doesn't even know what they're playing for.
*
Aiba doesn't say anything when he slides into Jun's shower stall, but it's not so much his sheepish grin and puppy eyes as the fact that Jun is too fucking dead on his feet to even bother to kick Aiba out. He rolls his eyes at Aiba only to receive a beaming smile and goes back to shampooing his hair.
Except suddenly there is an extra pair of hands in his hair, roughly tangling in curls and flicking shampoo into his eyes in stinging clumps.
"Ow, fuck - Masaki." Jun wrenches away, ducking briefly under the scalding hot spray to clear his eyes. "Would you stop that?"
"I thought MatsuJun might appreciate it," Aiba backs off a little, but in the small shower stall, that essentially meant that he was no longer standing on Jun's toes. "You're tense tonight."
"I'm not tense, I'm just tired." With his eyes clear, Jun sinks his fingers back into his hair and began to work his shampoo into a good lather again. "Look, I didn't mean to yell at you. Let's just get showered and go, okay?"
"Uh." It's not so much an answer as a verbal expression of the wheels turning in Aiba's head and Jun ignores it anyways, ducking his head underneath the spray and shaking it slightly, scraping his nails slightly against his scalp, relishing the pounding hot spray against his clammy, overheated skin.
"'Scuse me." Aiba's hand skates just under Jun's raised left arm, brushing across his chest to reach for the bar of soap on the far shelf of the shower stall. Jun politely stands still, not acknowledging the slow sweep of Aiba's fingers against his ribs.
"Want me to wash your back?"
"No." Jun slicks back his hair out of his eyes, trying not to eye the small, intricate swirls of lather on Aiba's lean torso as he soaps himself up. "I'm fine."
"You always say that." Aiba's tone is exasperated, but affectionate. "Come on, it'll be good for you."
"Thanks, but you already molested me once tonight." Jun keeps his voice light. "I'll pass."
"Are you angry about that?" Aiba's voice sounds more hesitant now, getting serious.
"No." Jun grabs his conditioner, squeezing a small amount into one hand. "Why would I be?"
"Nothing." Aiba steals his shampoo bottle, squirting out a good amount before Jun can raise a protest. "It's just that you yelled at Nino and dropped your water bottle twice and didn't even kick me out of the shower and now you won't even let me scrub your back-"
"Oh, what the hell." Jun slides his conditioner back onto the ledge, slippery hands fumbling a little on the plastic bottle. "If you want to that badly, then by all means, do it."
"What, really?"
"If it would make you feel better." There are warm hands on his back even before he finishes his sentence and despite himself, Jun leans into the touch, biting his lips slightly at the light scrape of Aiba's fingernails against his sore and tense muscles.
"It'll make you feel better," Aiba proclaims, sounding much giddier now, kneading Jun's back like it's a mound of dough, "That's what I thought when I kissed Matssun tonight, you looked so tired and I wanted to make you smile, huh?"
"You always do that, you know." Jun knows he's going to regret this before it even leaves his lips, but it's bothered him too much tonight to go unsaid. "Make excuses for this."
"Excuses?" Aiba's fingers slow a little down towards the curve of Jun's lower back, light and ticklish on his hips. "For what?"
"Like -" Jun has to bite back a groan as Aiba's hands wander teasingly low on his back, palms sliding back up and down until his muscles feel fuzzy and numb. "When you touch me, or do something stupid. Like kiss me in front of thousands of strangers. Like tonight."
"I don't make excuses." Jun tries to peek back over his shoulder, but Aiba's head is ducked slightly, apparently concentrating. "I didn't say 'Leader did it!' or something, did I?"
"That's not what I meant." Jun turns around, breaking out of Aiba's hold and leaning back against the wall of the shower stall. "It's always 'Ah, I did it because MatsuJun looked sad!' or 'You looked stressed', or something like that."
"Do I?" Aiba's voice is light, but there's something guarded in his eyes and Jun meets them unflinchingly.
"All the time."
"Well." Aiba steps forward, pressing one hand against Jun's bare chest, bringing his face close to Jun's. "If I didn't have an excuse - I mean, if -"
"Stupid." And Jun doesn't even care if the water isn't hot anymore, doesn't care that his back is still all gross and soapy and sliding against the tiled wall, because his heart is pounding like a stereo on full blast as Aiba skates careful fingers across Jun's sides, steps closer so their legs are tangled together. "You never really did, anyway."
"Trust MatsuJun to simplify things," Aiba murmurs and brushes his lips over the curve of Jun's cheekbone, whisper-soft against the corner of Jun's lips. Jun can't help but shiver because Aiba is getting serious, and he isn't making excuses for either of them anymore.
Jun captures Aiba's mouth, teasing it open with his tongue until Aiba responds eagerly, gripping onto Jun's forearm and tilting his head to gain better access. They are a tangle of lips and tongue until they work themselves out, Jun's hands buried in Aiba's still-shampooed hair, Aiba slowly gliding one hand up and down Jun's back as he makes small pleased noises against Jun's mouth, eyes closed tightly.
"Jun, I want -," Aiba says breathlessly when they break apart for air, and Jun's mind registers Aiba's hardness against his thigh, rocking slightly against Jun. His eyes are dark and full of something hungry that makes Jun feel a funny thrill in the pit of his stomach.
"We don't have time." Jun lets his hands roam reluctantly down Aiba's spine, onto the firm, muscled curve of his ass, kneading softly.
"Excuses, excuses," Aiba retorts, grinning, roughly palming Jun's cock with his right hand and wrapping his hand around it, thumb rubbing against the slit at the head in a way that makes Jun see stars in a way that even the sparkly neon lights show of their concerts can't do.
Aiba shifts even closer, wrapping both of their cocks in one hand, stroking them together, leaning his forehead against Jun's, breathing uneven and rough. "Feels good?"
"Your shampoo is dripping in my eye," Jun manages, swiping furiously at his face, other hand tightening a grip on Aiba's shoulder, his hips thrusting up to meet Aiba's strokes.
"Sorry." Aiba gently wipes the corner of Jun's eye with his free hand, kissing the same spot lightly. He twists the wrist of his other, busy hand apologetically in a way that makes Jun squeak in a slightly undignified manner.
Jun lets his head rest back against the tiled shower wall, eyes half-closed as Aiba traces his collarbone with lips and tongue and teeth, nipping slightly at heat-sensitized skin as he works them both to climax. He likes to watch the shift of Aiba's back muscles, the way that the beads of water cling to his tanned skin, and the light flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, licking the hollow of Jun's throat.
Aiba slows his pace until Jun gets impatient, grabbing him by the back of his neck and up into a bruising kiss, crushing Aiba's hand between them as he grinds desperately against Aiba, pressing them together at every point of contact, Aiba's wet and heated skin slick against Jun's.
Aiba comes first, body surging up to meet Jun's as he kisses Jun back with an almost bruising ferocity, and Jun follows soon after, grateful for the solidity of the wall behind him after his knees almost give way. Aiba drops lazy kisses on Jun's shoulder while he struggles to bring his breathing back to normal, still clinging to Aiba.
There is miraculously still hot water left afterwards, although not enough time for both of them to do anything more than scrub quickly, Aiba leaning playfully into Jun's side as he tries to rinse the conditioner out of his hair.
"It's because I love you," Aiba says out of the blue a few minutes later, his own bangs dripping wetly and obscuring his face as they share the shower spray. "And I wanted to. Is that an excuse?"
Jun ducks his own head further underneath the spray to hide his grin. "The worst one of all."
Aiba clearly doesn't believe him for a second, but it's fun to let him try and prove how much he means it.
Even if the water is freezing by the time they're half-done.
FIN
cross-posted to aibajun
Author: waxrose
Rating: R
Length: ~2,500 words
Pairing(s): Aiba/Jun
Author's Notes: It's beckerbell's birthday and I think that calls for a round of Aiba/Jun smut - it's a bit of a quick and dirty job, but I hope that you like it anyways. Many happy returns! :))) ♥ ♥ ♥ Giant hugs to crazychickencow and klena for giving this a readover on such short notice.
It's been two hours and three encores already and Jun only knows that his legs are still there because his feet ache like hell, can barely see straight past the sweat leaking into the corners of his eyes, stinging a little, wet and cool against his overheated skin.
But it's the last leg of the tour, the last concert, the last screams and cheers and neon lightsticks cutting through the stadium's semi-darkness, so Jun waves with all his effort, grinning unrestrainedly as the fans wave and scream and cry. He can hear his own voice waver, but together, their voices are strong.
Last, Jun thinks and he's so tired, he just wants a shower and a nap and a quiet room - even though this is amazing, because all he can see is a sea of lights and waves upon waves of people, all here to see them and that never stops being exciting after all this time.
There's an arm across his shoulders, suddenly, heavy and Jun didn't even hear Aiba coming, didn't see him at all. Jun glances at him quickly, leaning a little into Aiba, slipping his own arm around Aiba's waist, hand splayed across his back. The screams from the crowd in front of them grows a little more frantic and Jun grins, leaning his head towards Aiba's shoulder as they both hold the last note of Hero.
He can hear Sho and Nino screaming their thanks to the crowd as the song ends, and Jun begins to raise his own mic again to do the same.
And then -
It's all rather blurry, when Jun looks back, actually. He had to watch the footage from the cameras to really piece together what happened, rocking slowly back and forth in his chair and staring at the screen, rather glad he was alone in the room when onscreen, Aiba slowly, oh so slowly (it had seemed like less than the blink of an eye, but Jun was sure his sense of time couldn't be that skewed) cupped Jun's face in one hand, tilting their faces together and giving Jun the kind of kiss that was reserved for shoujo manga and daytime soap operas.
Jun remembers, he was there, after all, it's not like he blacked out. But it's a scattered mess of shock and sensation in his mind, like the heated skin of Aiba's fingers against his cheek, chapped lips suddenly on his, the quiet inhale-exhale of Aiba's breath.
The look in Aiba's eyes when he pulled away after what seemed like both a second and an eternity, the roars of the crowd almost deafening, both triumphant and - something, something Jun can't place, even replaying the tapes, because the camera is too far away, their faces both obscured.
The smack that Jun gives Aiba on the head right afterwards is, of course, clearly captured on the tape. It had seemed like the appropriate response, but Jun wondered if Aiba had seen past the mock rage, to Jun's shaky legs and badly hidden confusion.
Nino wolf-whistles at them as they all meet under the stage as the encore cheers begin again, grinning evilly. Jun glares at him, grabbing a water bottle from a staff member with muttered thanks.
Ohno looks amused and Sho is grinning just as widely as Nino.
"What are you, five years old?," Jun shoots at Nino, without much actual malice, as he begins to open his mouth to make some remark. Jun drains half of the water bottle as the screams above them rise in pitch.
"Aiba-chan must have been really excited, ne," Ohno chuckles, mopping his sweaty hair with Nino's towel, before hanging it around his neck.
"I'm surprised that Jun didn't push him off the stage," Sho adds, not without a bit of awe.
Aiba is in high spirits, grinning widely, radiating happiness and practically glowing. "It's a good way to finish our summer." He turns to Jun, "Well, you looked tired! I was just trying to help. And you've kissed Captain loads of times on stage, I don't know what you were so surprised about."
"It's just fanservice, Jun-chan," Nino adds, covertly patting Ohno's backside as he steals his towel back, "No need to get so worked up about it."
The staff-san signals them to get ready to go back on and they head into position, Sho playfully nudging Aiba as he ducks past him. "Everyone watch out for Aiba, huh? He's a bit weird today."
"Sho-chan's next," Aiba screams after him, and the crowd erupts into cheers as they all emerge into the half-blinding stage lights.
Jun sticks close to the main stage for the final encore, singing with Ohno while they watched Aiba chase Sho around the entire stadium stage circuit, flailing and making smacking noises.
It was different, Jun realized, as Aiba finally tackled Sho none-too-gently down onto the hanamichi and chastely kissed him on the cheek, to the approving roars of the fans. It was different and that's what was frustrating him.
Or maybe, he wanted it to be different and that - that was the most frustrating thing of all. When he kissed Leader at concerts, he enjoyed the knowing smirk on Ohno's face, the way he played along with Jun - it was fun, like a game, a trick they pulled off together. Jun liked the calm way that Ohno played along, read Jun's intentions and followed his lead.
But Aiba is different, always a little more difficult. With Aiba, it isn't just a game, which makes it even more terrifying. Jun doesn't know the rules, doesn't know if there are rules. If there are, then Aiba is making them up as he goes along, and Jun doesn't see how he can hope to win if he doesn't even know what they're playing for.
*
Aiba doesn't say anything when he slides into Jun's shower stall, but it's not so much his sheepish grin and puppy eyes as the fact that Jun is too fucking dead on his feet to even bother to kick Aiba out. He rolls his eyes at Aiba only to receive a beaming smile and goes back to shampooing his hair.
Except suddenly there is an extra pair of hands in his hair, roughly tangling in curls and flicking shampoo into his eyes in stinging clumps.
"Ow, fuck - Masaki." Jun wrenches away, ducking briefly under the scalding hot spray to clear his eyes. "Would you stop that?"
"I thought MatsuJun might appreciate it," Aiba backs off a little, but in the small shower stall, that essentially meant that he was no longer standing on Jun's toes. "You're tense tonight."
"I'm not tense, I'm just tired." With his eyes clear, Jun sinks his fingers back into his hair and began to work his shampoo into a good lather again. "Look, I didn't mean to yell at you. Let's just get showered and go, okay?"
"Uh." It's not so much an answer as a verbal expression of the wheels turning in Aiba's head and Jun ignores it anyways, ducking his head underneath the spray and shaking it slightly, scraping his nails slightly against his scalp, relishing the pounding hot spray against his clammy, overheated skin.
"'Scuse me." Aiba's hand skates just under Jun's raised left arm, brushing across his chest to reach for the bar of soap on the far shelf of the shower stall. Jun politely stands still, not acknowledging the slow sweep of Aiba's fingers against his ribs.
"Want me to wash your back?"
"No." Jun slicks back his hair out of his eyes, trying not to eye the small, intricate swirls of lather on Aiba's lean torso as he soaps himself up. "I'm fine."
"You always say that." Aiba's tone is exasperated, but affectionate. "Come on, it'll be good for you."
"Thanks, but you already molested me once tonight." Jun keeps his voice light. "I'll pass."
"Are you angry about that?" Aiba's voice sounds more hesitant now, getting serious.
"No." Jun grabs his conditioner, squeezing a small amount into one hand. "Why would I be?"
"Nothing." Aiba steals his shampoo bottle, squirting out a good amount before Jun can raise a protest. "It's just that you yelled at Nino and dropped your water bottle twice and didn't even kick me out of the shower and now you won't even let me scrub your back-"
"Oh, what the hell." Jun slides his conditioner back onto the ledge, slippery hands fumbling a little on the plastic bottle. "If you want to that badly, then by all means, do it."
"What, really?"
"If it would make you feel better." There are warm hands on his back even before he finishes his sentence and despite himself, Jun leans into the touch, biting his lips slightly at the light scrape of Aiba's fingernails against his sore and tense muscles.
"It'll make you feel better," Aiba proclaims, sounding much giddier now, kneading Jun's back like it's a mound of dough, "That's what I thought when I kissed Matssun tonight, you looked so tired and I wanted to make you smile, huh?"
"You always do that, you know." Jun knows he's going to regret this before it even leaves his lips, but it's bothered him too much tonight to go unsaid. "Make excuses for this."
"Excuses?" Aiba's fingers slow a little down towards the curve of Jun's lower back, light and ticklish on his hips. "For what?"
"Like -" Jun has to bite back a groan as Aiba's hands wander teasingly low on his back, palms sliding back up and down until his muscles feel fuzzy and numb. "When you touch me, or do something stupid. Like kiss me in front of thousands of strangers. Like tonight."
"I don't make excuses." Jun tries to peek back over his shoulder, but Aiba's head is ducked slightly, apparently concentrating. "I didn't say 'Leader did it!' or something, did I?"
"That's not what I meant." Jun turns around, breaking out of Aiba's hold and leaning back against the wall of the shower stall. "It's always 'Ah, I did it because MatsuJun looked sad!' or 'You looked stressed', or something like that."
"Do I?" Aiba's voice is light, but there's something guarded in his eyes and Jun meets them unflinchingly.
"All the time."
"Well." Aiba steps forward, pressing one hand against Jun's bare chest, bringing his face close to Jun's. "If I didn't have an excuse - I mean, if -"
"Stupid." And Jun doesn't even care if the water isn't hot anymore, doesn't care that his back is still all gross and soapy and sliding against the tiled wall, because his heart is pounding like a stereo on full blast as Aiba skates careful fingers across Jun's sides, steps closer so their legs are tangled together. "You never really did, anyway."
"Trust MatsuJun to simplify things," Aiba murmurs and brushes his lips over the curve of Jun's cheekbone, whisper-soft against the corner of Jun's lips. Jun can't help but shiver because Aiba is getting serious, and he isn't making excuses for either of them anymore.
Jun captures Aiba's mouth, teasing it open with his tongue until Aiba responds eagerly, gripping onto Jun's forearm and tilting his head to gain better access. They are a tangle of lips and tongue until they work themselves out, Jun's hands buried in Aiba's still-shampooed hair, Aiba slowly gliding one hand up and down Jun's back as he makes small pleased noises against Jun's mouth, eyes closed tightly.
"Jun, I want -," Aiba says breathlessly when they break apart for air, and Jun's mind registers Aiba's hardness against his thigh, rocking slightly against Jun. His eyes are dark and full of something hungry that makes Jun feel a funny thrill in the pit of his stomach.
"We don't have time." Jun lets his hands roam reluctantly down Aiba's spine, onto the firm, muscled curve of his ass, kneading softly.
"Excuses, excuses," Aiba retorts, grinning, roughly palming Jun's cock with his right hand and wrapping his hand around it, thumb rubbing against the slit at the head in a way that makes Jun see stars in a way that even the sparkly neon lights show of their concerts can't do.
Aiba shifts even closer, wrapping both of their cocks in one hand, stroking them together, leaning his forehead against Jun's, breathing uneven and rough. "Feels good?"
"Your shampoo is dripping in my eye," Jun manages, swiping furiously at his face, other hand tightening a grip on Aiba's shoulder, his hips thrusting up to meet Aiba's strokes.
"Sorry." Aiba gently wipes the corner of Jun's eye with his free hand, kissing the same spot lightly. He twists the wrist of his other, busy hand apologetically in a way that makes Jun squeak in a slightly undignified manner.
Jun lets his head rest back against the tiled shower wall, eyes half-closed as Aiba traces his collarbone with lips and tongue and teeth, nipping slightly at heat-sensitized skin as he works them both to climax. He likes to watch the shift of Aiba's back muscles, the way that the beads of water cling to his tanned skin, and the light flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, licking the hollow of Jun's throat.
Aiba slows his pace until Jun gets impatient, grabbing him by the back of his neck and up into a bruising kiss, crushing Aiba's hand between them as he grinds desperately against Aiba, pressing them together at every point of contact, Aiba's wet and heated skin slick against Jun's.
Aiba comes first, body surging up to meet Jun's as he kisses Jun back with an almost bruising ferocity, and Jun follows soon after, grateful for the solidity of the wall behind him after his knees almost give way. Aiba drops lazy kisses on Jun's shoulder while he struggles to bring his breathing back to normal, still clinging to Aiba.
There is miraculously still hot water left afterwards, although not enough time for both of them to do anything more than scrub quickly, Aiba leaning playfully into Jun's side as he tries to rinse the conditioner out of his hair.
"It's because I love you," Aiba says out of the blue a few minutes later, his own bangs dripping wetly and obscuring his face as they share the shower spray. "And I wanted to. Is that an excuse?"
Jun ducks his own head further underneath the spray to hide his grin. "The worst one of all."
Aiba clearly doesn't believe him for a second, but it's fun to let him try and prove how much he means it.
Even if the water is freezing by the time they're half-done.
FIN
cross-posted to aibajun