All Good Things
Title: All Good Things
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho
Summary: "He could finally admit it wasn't just something they could do and not define."
Notes/Warnings: For Jun's birthday contest at sakumoto. Future fic. And extremely short...for me, anyhow. Saying a lot with a little is something I'd like to work on!
It's strange, Sho thinks, how time has finally seemed to slow. He settles in bed, not setting the alarm for 5:00 AM but for 7:30.
His teens, his twenties, his thirties, the first half of his forties - they're gone, and the sheer amount of things he'd accomplished in that time seems almost impossible now. No longer can he function on two, maybe three hours of sleep. No longer can he subsist on greasy, grilled meat or sugary sweets from variety filming. No longer can he run back and forth across a stage at the peak of a sweltering summer.
Now is the time to relax - relax the way he can as he pulls up the sheets and rests. Arashi is not necessarily out to pasture for good - there's still the occasional variety special or slower-paced concert, but when he and the others meet up, there's not a few days worth of catching up to do. Now it's weeks, months as the precious time they have together continues to dwindle. But all good things, Sho knows, must come to an end. And some endings, he's discovered, can bring about new beginnings.
He worked hard so that his time now is the reward. He's still famous, and he doesn't see that changing, but he's not the person who used to smile in those magazines. Now there's the gray in his hair. Now there's reading glasses. Now there's the doctor-enforced dietary restrictions. But with all these new limitations and setbacks, Sho is still grateful for the arrival of slowed time.
Now that he has additional seconds, minutes, hours, he can appreciate what else he's gained.
In the old days, it would have been unthinkable. They had always been there, those feelings, lingering in the back of his mind no matter how much he tried to stamp them out. No matter how much they'd both tried. Because back then, there had been five, and it only worked as five, and if he'd acted on it, it would have jeopardized everything they'd worked so hard for collectively.
But now that Sho has time, now that Sho has space, he can be a little more selfish. A little less focused on what five had to be for Japan in favor of what one can mean to him alone. It had taken several tries to get it right, several missteps and misunderstandings, but better late than never. It had started so slowly, a spark in their eleventh year, back when they were still stupid and still in their twenties. There'd been a few awkward years when they were still just kids, but Sho had been fairly blind to it. He was nearing thirty when he finally admitted to himself that what he was feeling was more than friendship, more than family, and more than that impossible-to-define Arashi-ness.
Then it had taken another decade of scattered encounters, planned and unplanned, before Sho had finally said the words aloud. Years of longer and longer meals together, years of stolen moments and rushed sex they never really talked about before he could finally admit it wasn't just something they could do and not define.
"I'm in love with you, Jun. And I think I always will be."
As he lays in the dark, he eventually hears Jun come home. He has time to listen in the ways he never could when they were younger. He has time to listen to the sound of Jun leaving his shoes in the entryway, to how he unzips his jacket and hangs it in the hall closet. He closes his eyes, and the seconds tick by. Jun washing his face, brushing his teeth, making sure they're locked up for the night.
There's no rush as Jun enters the bedroom, unapologetic for any noise he makes as he undresses and slips into the bed at Sho's side. The place Sho's always wanted him to be but can only now fully enjoy. He feels Jun poke him in the back, the same as he had when he was sixteen and Sho hadn't noticed what it had really meant. They're not sixteen, seventeen now.
Now Sho squints in frustration until he remembers to put his glasses on, and Jun's constantly fretting about a bad knee after so many years of dancing. Older, sore, eclipsed by juniors. But older, wiser, happier. "What time did you set the alarm for?"
"7:30."
Jun's lips brush his temple before Sho listens to him move around on the mattress until he's completely satisfied. "Kicking you if you snore."
"You know I will." He waits for a moment. "Jun?"
"What?"
"Just as a reminder, I'm not going to share you with anyone."
"Is that so?" Jun asks, yawning. Sho knows that he's smiling. "You like me the most?"
He grins in the dark, feeling far younger than he is. Like he's in a world where Arashi's still just beginning rather than the one he's in now, a world where Arashi is gently and peacefully fading.
"Yes, I like you the most."
"Now when you say that," Jun teases, fingers twining with Sho's under the sheets, "Do you mean love or like?"
Now that Sho has time, he has everything that was worth waiting for.
"I think you know."
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho
Summary: "He could finally admit it wasn't just something they could do and not define."
Notes/Warnings: For Jun's birthday contest at sakumoto. Future fic. And extremely short...for me, anyhow. Saying a lot with a little is something I'd like to work on!
It's strange, Sho thinks, how time has finally seemed to slow. He settles in bed, not setting the alarm for 5:00 AM but for 7:30.
His teens, his twenties, his thirties, the first half of his forties - they're gone, and the sheer amount of things he'd accomplished in that time seems almost impossible now. No longer can he function on two, maybe three hours of sleep. No longer can he subsist on greasy, grilled meat or sugary sweets from variety filming. No longer can he run back and forth across a stage at the peak of a sweltering summer.
Now is the time to relax - relax the way he can as he pulls up the sheets and rests. Arashi is not necessarily out to pasture for good - there's still the occasional variety special or slower-paced concert, but when he and the others meet up, there's not a few days worth of catching up to do. Now it's weeks, months as the precious time they have together continues to dwindle. But all good things, Sho knows, must come to an end. And some endings, he's discovered, can bring about new beginnings.
He worked hard so that his time now is the reward. He's still famous, and he doesn't see that changing, but he's not the person who used to smile in those magazines. Now there's the gray in his hair. Now there's reading glasses. Now there's the doctor-enforced dietary restrictions. But with all these new limitations and setbacks, Sho is still grateful for the arrival of slowed time.
Now that he has additional seconds, minutes, hours, he can appreciate what else he's gained.
In the old days, it would have been unthinkable. They had always been there, those feelings, lingering in the back of his mind no matter how much he tried to stamp them out. No matter how much they'd both tried. Because back then, there had been five, and it only worked as five, and if he'd acted on it, it would have jeopardized everything they'd worked so hard for collectively.
But now that Sho has time, now that Sho has space, he can be a little more selfish. A little less focused on what five had to be for Japan in favor of what one can mean to him alone. It had taken several tries to get it right, several missteps and misunderstandings, but better late than never. It had started so slowly, a spark in their eleventh year, back when they were still stupid and still in their twenties. There'd been a few awkward years when they were still just kids, but Sho had been fairly blind to it. He was nearing thirty when he finally admitted to himself that what he was feeling was more than friendship, more than family, and more than that impossible-to-define Arashi-ness.
Then it had taken another decade of scattered encounters, planned and unplanned, before Sho had finally said the words aloud. Years of longer and longer meals together, years of stolen moments and rushed sex they never really talked about before he could finally admit it wasn't just something they could do and not define.
"I'm in love with you, Jun. And I think I always will be."
As he lays in the dark, he eventually hears Jun come home. He has time to listen in the ways he never could when they were younger. He has time to listen to the sound of Jun leaving his shoes in the entryway, to how he unzips his jacket and hangs it in the hall closet. He closes his eyes, and the seconds tick by. Jun washing his face, brushing his teeth, making sure they're locked up for the night.
There's no rush as Jun enters the bedroom, unapologetic for any noise he makes as he undresses and slips into the bed at Sho's side. The place Sho's always wanted him to be but can only now fully enjoy. He feels Jun poke him in the back, the same as he had when he was sixteen and Sho hadn't noticed what it had really meant. They're not sixteen, seventeen now.
Now Sho squints in frustration until he remembers to put his glasses on, and Jun's constantly fretting about a bad knee after so many years of dancing. Older, sore, eclipsed by juniors. But older, wiser, happier. "What time did you set the alarm for?"
"7:30."
Jun's lips brush his temple before Sho listens to him move around on the mattress until he's completely satisfied. "Kicking you if you snore."
"You know I will." He waits for a moment. "Jun?"
"What?"
"Just as a reminder, I'm not going to share you with anyone."
"Is that so?" Jun asks, yawning. Sho knows that he's smiling. "You like me the most?"
He grins in the dark, feeling far younger than he is. Like he's in a world where Arashi's still just beginning rather than the one he's in now, a world where Arashi is gently and peacefully fading.
"Yes, I like you the most."
"Now when you say that," Jun teases, fingers twining with Sho's under the sheets, "Do you mean love or like?"
Now that Sho has time, he has everything that was worth waiting for.
"I think you know."