Sleeping Arrangements
Title: Sleeping Arrangements
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sho/Jun
Word count: 4275
Summary: On the Fukuoka leg of their concert tour, Sho and Jun find themselves having to share a room. Things have to get awkward before they get…better?
Warnings/Notes: Again, because Sakumoto totally exists. Yay!
Upon arrival at Fukuoka, where they were going to have a Dome concert in two days, Arashi find that their rooms are not quite ready yet. Flanked by several plainclothes bodyguards, they all walk towards the seating area by the reception. The night sky behind the floor to ceiling glass panels makes the huge lobby of the modern Japanese inn more austere; the streets outside are no longer busy, as it is already quite late in the night. Wind instruments play on the speakers, a soothing, melancholic tune in keeping with the interiors.
Ohno, who is running low on energy having come straight from some last-minute dance and formation briefing (on top of having been on a boat the previous day for fourteen hours, gleefully emptying the sea of its bounty), did not mind the minimalist and hard-edged benches that were the only seating option available. He immediately plops down on the nearest one, and soon enough, his head is drooping this way and that, his short, un-styled blonde-brown hair flopping about on his forehead, already asleep.
Nino, busy with his DS, nudges Aiba to sit beside Ohno.
“Lend Zombie Satoshi a shoulder for me, would you, Aiba? Please.”
“Some boyfriend you are,” Aiba says sleepily, as he dumps his small satchel on the floor artlessly.
Nino snorts, never taking his eyes off from the screen. “Actually, correction. Some boyfriend that sleeping, burnt codger is, always taking you out for dinner instead of me.”
“Aw, Nino-chan’s jealous that Oh-chan likes my company better,” Aiba replies, yawning.
“Well, he likes my body better. And we all know what’s more important, Nino says, unwavering.
Aiba laughs, but he was too tired to engage in any more Nino-Oshaberiness, which is quite draining when one is not mentally psyched for it (case in point: when one is sleepy.) Sitting beside their leader, he carefully nudges a soft shoulder underneath Ohno’s swaying head. Not long after, Aiba also feels the heavy, intoxicating pull of sleep. The dim paper lanterns does not help in his feeble resistance to a nap, and so he gives in, head right next to Ohno’s. Nino settles on the bench across them, fingers still jabbing madly.
The other two soon arrive, after Sho accompanied Jun on a little cigarette break in the adjacent lounge. His hand is lightly perched on the small of Jun’s back (which Jun barely notices, or pretends not to.)
“You’ve been on that thing for hours, Nino,” Jun observes, as he sits down beside him, legs crossed, with Sho following suit.
“Dragon. Must. Be. Slayed. Village. Must. Not. Be. Razed.”
Jun rolls his eyes. Grabbing the piece of paper folded in his jacket, Jun hands it to Sho. “Anyway, here, like I was saying, I revised the lighting plans a little bit. What do you think?”
Sho looks the final plans over, settling into the hard bench right beside Jun. The two start discussing. Nino was absentmindedly listening as he was still thoroughly entrenched in a battle against some dragons, or whatever it was, on the tiny screen in his scratchy old blue DS, which he still keeps despite several new models Nintendo sent him. In any case, as Jun and Sho are busy confirming the set list, they notice the slight ruckus by the reception desk where one of their managers, the one who is usually in charge of concert arrangements (and coincidentally, Nino’s personal manager), was discussing with the hotel concierge.
Sho looks at his watch and realizes that they have been held up in the lobby for close around thirty minutes already, which is a tad bit irregular. Jun raises his eyebrow in question (or frankly, just sheer knowing, because he realizes that Sho is getting a little antsy, and in another thirty minutes, said antsy-ness will be duly converted to camera-smashing, umbrella-weilding temper. To Sho’s credit, his temper has improved over the years, but you never know.)
“Hold that thought about Summer Splash, I’ll just go check out what the fuss is with Nakata-san. I should, right?”
“Mmm-kay. Yeah.” From afar, he sees their manager gesticulating crazily to the cowering receptionist. He looks back at Sho’s knitted brows. Always a little suspicious and wary about even the slightest delays in plans, Jun thinks, not without fondness, as he flips opens his mobile phone.
Nino, who barely looks up from his game, says, “Baldy’s just probably having a fit over the pillow covers or something.”
"You're very fond of your manager, aren't you."
The gamer has a slight grin on his lips. “Yeah, he's bald.”
Sho leaves the two to their usual exchanges. When he gets close enough to the reception area, he hears Nakata-san, Nino’s small and balding manager, reprimand the receptionist in a stern, exacting voice.
“This is completely unacceptable, we have reserved those five suites well in advance! Now you tell us you only have one available?”
“-yes, we are fully aware of that, Nakata-san, and we apologize, that’s why we’re offering the three regular rooms and the suite free of charge-”
“ARASHI IS MADE UP OF FIVE PEOPLE, RECEPTIONIST-SAN, FIVE, NOT ONE, A STORM CAN’T POSSIBLY JUST BE COMPRISED OF ONE, DON’T YOU THINK? THIS IS ARASHI WE’RE TALKING ABOUT, AND DON’T TELL ME AGAIN ABOUT YOUR DINKY LITTLE REGULAR ROOMS, THAT’S NOT AN OPTION, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ARASHI? THEY TRAVELED ALL THE WAY HERE TO A SOLD-OUT VENUE, TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY! AND ERUPT IN A STORM OF BLOODY SPARKLES! AND WINKS! AND MEMBER AI! AND BURSTS OF CHOREOGRAPHY! AND ALL YOU CAN GIVE THEM ARE RINKY DINKY LITTLE REGULAR ROOMS WHEN WE SPECIFICALLY ASKED FOR SUITES, WHICH YOU OH-SO-CORTEOUSLY SAID YES TO IN YOUR NICE LITTLE CONFIRMATION E-MAIL! AM I WRONG TO BE A TINY BIT HYSTERICAL?”
As it turns out, “Baldy” is indeed having a fit, but it isn’t about pillowcases.
Sho walks towards Nakata. “Bal-I mean, Nakata-san, is that the problem? The suites?”
“Yes! They only have a suite left! And three regular rooms!” The rather robust man was red from exertion.
Sho frowns.
Nakata has only been with Arashi and more specifically, Nino, the past three years, being a newly scouted manager, and had not known Arashi in the relative obscurity of their earlier years. That they actually even shared rooms, sometimes three to a room at a time, was something that Nakata could never have fathomed. The Arashi Nakata knows was one that slept in suites and traveled in reasonable luxury, and for him, that fits because Arashi is currently Japan’s most prolific and most popular idol group.
With that in mind, Sho takes Nakata to the side gently. “Nakata-san, we’ll take those rooms. It’s perfectly fine.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” Sho could not help but add sternly, “Next time, please don’t make a big fuss like that, Nakata-san. I know you just wanted the best, but really, for future reference, if suites aren’t available, we don’t mind staying in regular rooms.”
Hearing the sincere tone in his voice, Nakata turns even redder, slightly bowing to him. “Very well, Sho-kun.”
As Sho collects the electronic card keys from the receptionist, he turns back to Nakata-san. Miffed, he says, “And also for your future reference, we don’t make people erupt in a storm of bloody sparkles.” Sho begins to walk away. “Sparkles, maybe, but not bloody sparkles,” he mutters to himself.
Nakata looks sheepish. The receptionist, on the other hand, is trying hard not to look gleeful.
*
“Okay, guys, who wants to take the suite? It has to be two people since there are only three regular rooms left,” Sho announces.
The rather catatonic, just woken-up Ohno mumbles, “I’ll take one of the regular rooms.”
For the first time, Nino looks up from his game and shoots a hurt look at Ohno. It is a miracle that Ohno even notices Nino’s reaction in his sleepy daze, because he says, “It’s good to miss each other sometimes, ne, Kazu?”
Pouting, Nino grabs one of the regular room card keys from Sho’s hand. They still walk off together, towards the elevator, a sleepy Ohno clinging to Nino’s arm.
“You two take the suite, okay?” Aiba says innocently, grabbing the remaining regular room card key. He lugs his small backpack, running to catch up with Ohno and Nino who already stepped inside the elevator.
When they were the only two left, Sho sneaks a glance at Jun.
Jun, who had his arms crossed, looks at him.
Sho coughs his fake cough (Jun can easily tell), and says, “Well, shall we?”
When Jun doesn’t reply, Sho coughs some more (also fake) and grabs his bag, heading straight to the elevators.
*
Jun finds his way to the lounge where the bar was still open.
“A dry martini, please,” he says, when the bartender approached him. “Make it a double.”
The elderly bartender bows low. “Certainly, sir.”
Sliding into a stool, he tries to peruse the paper where the final concert plans were outlined. Try as he might to focus, all the diagrams and the kanji blurred into undecipherable blots of ink.
Jun sighs and cracks his knuckles nervously.
It wasn’t that Jun was appalled, revolted, or disgusted by rooming with Sho for the next two nights. Hardly. It’s just that it’s been so long since he has roomed with anyone, and practically ages and ages since he’s shared a room with Sho. In other environments, being around Sho is actually pretty comfortable. Contrary to what it might seem to their fans, Sho and Jun are actually pretty good friends behind the scenes. Granted, they aren’t prone to sidling up to each other like melting butter on a piece of warm toast (like Ohmiya, if one was to be succinct about it), but they are close enough. They enjoy a drink or a meal together when their schedules permits, talking about work, life, and other normal things-surprisingly, they find that their views on a lot of matters match.
Not that surprising, actually, Jun thinks. In truth, there are a lot more similarities between Sho and Jun than there were differences.
The dry martini arrives in a delicate goblet, and Jun drinks down half of the contents in one gulp. He is deep in contemplation; it's a very good thing that there aren’t any other customers at the bar.
But what do I do? There are those uncomfortable increments, increments of a second, really, when they are together, that cause in Jun a sort of panic and an anxious feeling in his belly that he can’t quite explain. It happens when they share meaningful glances, when they look each other in the eye for a second too long, or when Sho nonchalantly makes physical contact with him (like earlier, with the hand on his back), or when they laugh a little too hard at something the other said that wasn’t that particularly funny, in hindsight. There are also times when Jun remembers how much he used to follow Sho around when he was younger-in a hero-worshipping-an-older-brother kind of way-and the memory of those days easily makes him blush in embarrassment right on the spot, even when Sho is not around.
He could deny it as much as he could, but he knows that there exists a boundary between him and Sho that they both just ignore, self-consciously. It is just easier that way. Jun never delves into those dark, uncharted territories, nor question its very existence.
After his third martini (it is no good to be hung over on a concert day), he mans it up and heads to the suite. The suite of doom, Jun couldn’t help but think.
*
When he gingerly lies down beside the sleeping Sho, his heartbeat races. It was not a new thing, he’s slept in the same room with Sho; it was just one of those situational increments that made him a little anxious and uncomfortable. Jun looks up at the ceiling, avoiding looking at Sho, willing his pulse to slow down and ease away.
He can hear Sho breathing. That was a new thing. It was strangely voyeuristic and calming at the same time, listening to Sho breathing evenly.
Like a firefly attracted to a source of light, he turns to Sho, sure that he was asleep. Sho already had the comforter kicked away from him, never liking the smothering heat of being under the covers. As per usual, Jun thinks. He also thinks about how Sho looks incredibly younger when he’s asleep, almost like those days when Jun was 16, and Sho, just a couple years older, when they usually bunked together during tours. It was the same pouty lips, the same tank top, the same knobby nose, the same huge forehead, the same bulky, attractive arms…
…Well, his arms aren’t the same.
His eyes pass over Sho’s arms repeatedly, down to his chest, so solid and real, and rather inviting. Jun wondered when Sho grew up to become such a man. Laughing inside, Jun then thinks about what an absurd sentiment it was, becoming nostalgic about a grown-up, manly, almost-thirty Sho. After all, they see each other almost every week, didn’t they? It was just strange, being able to observe Sho in such an intimate setting.
An annoying and pressing need to touch Sho, his arms, any part of him really, overcomes Jun, taking him by surprise.
No, you did not just think that. It’s just the proximity.
Tossing to his other side, he forces his eyes shut. He willed himself to sleep.
When he was already truly drowsy, on the threshold of deep sleep, a strong, well-shaped, and bare arm links around his stomach, so naturally and without much ceremony.
If he was more awake, Jun would have gasped, no, he would have resisted, or maybe possible even cussed out Sho, but in the darkness of the suite, it felt like the most logical thing, to have Sho embracing him. He had a vague inkling that this was highly irregular, but he couldn’t think-he was so sleepy-and Sho’s warmth enveloped him, was all around him, and he felt calm, so calm.
Sidling closer to Jun, Sho buries his face into Jun’s hair. The closer he gets, the quieter Jun becomes.
Jun felt weightless, and was soon sleeping deeply, his chest heaving peacefully.
“Jun,” Sho whispers to no one, soon also asleep again himself.
*
When Jun wakes up the next day, he finds only empty space beside him. Stretching like a cat, he yawns loudly. Then it hits him: they fell asleep together, with Sho’s arms around him.
Sho’s. Arms. Around. Him.
Suddenly dizzy, Jun puts on his glasses and walks towards the window, taking in the scenery. It looked like an amazing day. As the minutes pass, he does not know whether his heart was thumping like a herd of caribou chased by a hungry lion in the savannah because of the prospect of being in front of thousands of fans to perform and be Arashi (no, it never gets old), or because of how his skin so easily remembers the exact spots where it touched with Sho. Exactly where.
He decides he doesn’t exactly want to know what the answer to that was. He jumps into the shower, psyching himself instead for that day’s concert. Good thing Sho was out already, because “psyching himself” meant vocalizing like he was possessed. It is Jun’s way of assuaging his nerves, which have never gone away, despite how confident and self-assured he was on stage. In the shower, he lets all the not-quite-there notes rip, letting go, singing with all his might.
After stepping out of the shower, Jun feels invigorated, water droplets dripping down his neck. He almost forgets about last night. Almost.
*
Fukuoka certainly did not disappoint. The concert that they had just held felt electrifying, as it always does, but to Jun it felt even more so. When Sho corners him in the backstage, still high from the encore, Jun could not help but see it as a threat. A dangerous, alluring threat that makes his already pumping pulse beat faster. What is happening?
But when Sho is near enough that Jun could feel his body’s heated glow, owing to post-concert endorphins (and a mix of something else?), Sho only gives him a quick hug, like the ones he gave to the other three, something he always did after the last song.
Smiling tentatively, Sho says, “You slept well last night?”
To this, Jun could not help but laugh. After all, they just stepped off the stage from a three-hour concert, and Sho is asking if he slept well.
“I think I did.” Right then and there, his skin tingles again traitorously from memory.
Sho slightly purses his lips in thought. “That’s good.”
Nino sashays to the two, putting an arm around Jun. “Play nice, my awkward little darlings.”
Ohno, who was drinking from a water bottle, chuckles. “You play nice, Nino.”
Later, when Aiba was the first one to finish showering, he declares that he wants to have a drink with Arashi.
Nino throws his soggy, used sock at him.
“Guuuuys, I’m serious! Wasn’t tonight awesome? We should celebrate!” Aiba is all energy, helping (the term is relative, in this case) Jun pack his bag.
Not quite murderous, but definitely not amused, Jun growls, “Aiba, you just put that sweaty tank on top of my clean clothes!”
“Eh! Sorry, Jun-kun,” Aiba says, simpering like a puppy. “I’ll treat you to drinks to make up for it, ne? Come on!”
Ohno, who was drying his hair haphazardly with a towel, pipes up. “Aiba-chan, treat me as well?”
“You bet!”
Nino announces to everyone that he’s going “if Leader’s going and all paid for”.
In no time at all, Aiba grabs Nino and Ohno’s bag and hoists it on his shoulders. “Sho-kun?”
Glancing at their youngest member, who was texting idly at the corner, Sho replies, “Sure.”
When Aiba made a move to grab Sho’s bag as well, Sho heartily laughed. “Jeez Aiba-chan, is being a porter your second career? You don’t have to carry my bag so that I’d go drinking with you.”
“Yay!”
As they proceed to Aiba’s spacious Porsche Cayenne, Ohno and Nino made no move to get their bags from Aiba and carry it on their own.
Aiba did not mind.
*
Whenever Aiba treats for drinks, it’s always overflowing. Literally. At their 14th Moët bottle, Aiba was sloshing the champagne outside the champagne flutes.
Already quite drunk, Ohno raises his flute and asks, “Aiba-chan, just how rich are you? Do you earn more than we do? Mo-weeeeeeet is cho umaiiiiiii! I’m never drinking sake again!”
Laughing like a hyena, Aiba hooks his arm around Ohno. “You know what’s cho umai? Leader!”
The two of them double over with laughing. “Eh, you’re umai too, Aiba-chan,” Ohno declares, gulping down the contents of his champagne flute.
Nino, who has always been the weakest drinker among the five, was already passed out for an hour. He barely raises his head at Ohno and Aiba’s silly (bordering on flirtatious, if they weren’t drunk) exchange.
“Your eyes are red,” Jun says to Sho. They are sitting beside each other.
“I’m just feeling good,” Sho replies, clinking his flute with Jun’s untouched one on the bar counter. “Drink up!”
Obliging the other man, he downs the whole thing. Smiling, he says, “Happy?”
“Very.” Sho smiles back as he refills Jun’s flute.
*
After the ordeal that was herding the three piss-drunk and almost blind mice back to their respective rooms, Sho purposefully opens the door to their suite. Jun walks calmly behind him.
Crashing on the bed, Sho sighs contentedly. “That Aiba-chan is a big-spender. I’d never treat you guys to Moët, much less that amount.”
“Aiba is Aiba.” Jun changes out of his clothes into more comfortable ones. When he turns back to Sho, he sees that Sho’s eyes were on him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Jun slips into bed, massaging his head. “I think I smoked a little bit too much tonight.”
“Yeah, and you didn’t drink enough.”
“Champagne upsets my digestion, for some reason.”
Sho chuckles. He turns towards Jun, a slight smile on his face.
“What?” Jun shifts uncomfortably.
“Nothing, I’m just looking at you.”
“Why?”
A slight smirk about his mouth, Sho replies. “Just payback for last night.”
Jun stays silent, heart beating thunderously, yet again. Trying to preserve a mien of nonchalance, he says, “Well, this is fairly awkward.”
“Fairly.”
Several silent minutes pass. Sho is still looking at him. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“How about a thousand yen?”
“I’m not as stingy as Nino, but a thousand yen per thought is a little bit steep. Given that you think too much.”
“I do not.” I don’t. Wait! I don’t.
As if sensing Jun doing exactly what he said Jun does a lot (thinking!), Sho provokes him. “Prove it.”
Sho hovered over Jun, his arm propped to his side, daring Jun to something that has, unfairly, Jun thinks (thinks!), been in his mind since the previous night.
Maybe it was because of Sho’s self-satisfied face, or the fact that he was being dared, and that he hated being on the losing end, or something else completely, but he just suddenly found his hands linking to Sho’s nape, pulling him down. When their lips touch, it was almost as if the rest of Sho’s body molds into his own, as Sho sinuously climbs on top of him.
The kiss itself was gentle, more tentative than anything Jun has experienced before. Sho’s warmth was almost suffocating, if only it wasn’t so damn…welcoming. Sho breaks the kiss, looking at Jun with wonder, reaching out to Jun’s face to touch it.
“Well. Wow.”
Jun grins, not able to stop himself. “So, what did that prove?”
“Nothing. Only that I want to do more of this proving stuff,” Sho replies.
Jun shifts a little bit under Sho. “This is still a little bit awkward though. I mean, what-what is this? What are we?”
Before Sho reaches down for Jun’s lips again, he says, “It’s inevitable. We’re inevitable. Always has been.”
A combination of arctic chill and heat the intensity of boiling lava rushes over Jun. He gives in fully.
It wasn’t a boundary that was between them after all. It was just a lack of realization of what was real, and rang true in him, from the tips of his hairs to his toes: that he might just like Sho (or has liked ever since), and not only as a fellow band-member, not only as a colleague, not only as a friend, but as something more; the thought of which, blew his mind.
It felt like such a revelation because it felt right. Cigarette and champagne flavored kisses felt so right.
“I want this. I’ve always wanted this,” Sho whispers.
“Same.” Because that was as bare as the truth could be.
With Sho’s arms around him, the two of them face to face, Jun sleeps, snuggling closer to Sho’s warmth.
*
“Since you slept together for two nights, how about sleeping together for the rest of your life?” Nino asks Sho, all feigned innocence and suspicious sparkles in his eyes. Being the only two already awake, they headed down to the traditional Japanese restaurant within the inn for breakfast.
Agitated, Sho replies. “We didn’t sleep together that way.”
“Such a dirty mind you have, Sho-chan. I didn’t mean it that way either.”
Sho reddens, not daring to meet Nino’s eyes because looking straight into those laser-like, shiba inu eyes had the effect of feeling like he lost, in some way. Especially when he was blushing like no one’s business.
Nino grins and only says, “Well, for now.” He slurps his noodles noisily.
“I hope your hangover lasts the whole day.”
“Sure, Sho-chan.” Enter more annoying noodle-slurping noises.
*
Before leaving the inn, Sho heads towards the reception area, where the same girl that Nakata screamed at was stationed.
“Anything else I can do for you, Sakurai-san?” the receptionist asked, her voice obviously a little nervous, but still accommodating.
Sho smiles.
Her knees almost gave out. It’s not every day that Sakurai Sho smiled at her, in such close range, with such a gentle expression about his face.
Handing her an envelope, he only says, “Thank you for not having five suites.”
“You’re…welcome?”
Puzzled as she watches Sho walk away, she opens the envelope. It was a very, very strange day. In any case, she could not wait to tell her younger sister, who was a big fan of Arashi, what a big tipper Sakurai Sho was. Leaning on the counter, she still felt faint. Idol smiles and huge sums of money kind of had that dazzling effect.
When she spots Matsumoto Jun outside the inn with an equally charming smile as Sho catches up to him, and sees the latter touch Matsumoto’s back as if guiding him, the receptionist could not help but think that it was definitely not part of the “fan service” her little teenage sister tried to explain to her. Fishy, fishy.
But when she sees Ninomiya and Ohno holding hands as well, with Aiba’s arms around Ohno, a noisy trio causing ruckus behind the two, well, she couldn’t say for sure anymore.
Without meaning to, she feels a surge of warmth. Nakata-san pegged it down wonderfully.
Bloody sparkles.
- - -
Additional author's note: Ugh, I finally got a quick Sakumoto story out of my system! I've been writing a long one-shot on them for months which is turning out to be a little heavily-themed, and what can I say, I was having horrible writer's block. Also, recently, there's been so much Sakumoto fics to read (yay), that I was getting a tad bit too lazy to write! Anyway, I decided to write up something relatively light, and here it is! I had fun writing it and I hope you've enjoyed reading it!
;D
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sho/Jun
Word count: 4275
Summary: On the Fukuoka leg of their concert tour, Sho and Jun find themselves having to share a room. Things have to get awkward before they get…better?
Warnings/Notes: Again, because Sakumoto totally exists. Yay!
Upon arrival at Fukuoka, where they were going to have a Dome concert in two days, Arashi find that their rooms are not quite ready yet. Flanked by several plainclothes bodyguards, they all walk towards the seating area by the reception. The night sky behind the floor to ceiling glass panels makes the huge lobby of the modern Japanese inn more austere; the streets outside are no longer busy, as it is already quite late in the night. Wind instruments play on the speakers, a soothing, melancholic tune in keeping with the interiors.
Ohno, who is running low on energy having come straight from some last-minute dance and formation briefing (on top of having been on a boat the previous day for fourteen hours, gleefully emptying the sea of its bounty), did not mind the minimalist and hard-edged benches that were the only seating option available. He immediately plops down on the nearest one, and soon enough, his head is drooping this way and that, his short, un-styled blonde-brown hair flopping about on his forehead, already asleep.
Nino, busy with his DS, nudges Aiba to sit beside Ohno.
“Lend Zombie Satoshi a shoulder for me, would you, Aiba? Please.”
“Some boyfriend you are,” Aiba says sleepily, as he dumps his small satchel on the floor artlessly.
Nino snorts, never taking his eyes off from the screen. “Actually, correction. Some boyfriend that sleeping, burnt codger is, always taking you out for dinner instead of me.”
“Aw, Nino-chan’s jealous that Oh-chan likes my company better,” Aiba replies, yawning.
“Well, he likes my body better. And we all know what’s more important, Nino says, unwavering.
Aiba laughs, but he was too tired to engage in any more Nino-Oshaberiness, which is quite draining when one is not mentally psyched for it (case in point: when one is sleepy.) Sitting beside their leader, he carefully nudges a soft shoulder underneath Ohno’s swaying head. Not long after, Aiba also feels the heavy, intoxicating pull of sleep. The dim paper lanterns does not help in his feeble resistance to a nap, and so he gives in, head right next to Ohno’s. Nino settles on the bench across them, fingers still jabbing madly.
The other two soon arrive, after Sho accompanied Jun on a little cigarette break in the adjacent lounge. His hand is lightly perched on the small of Jun’s back (which Jun barely notices, or pretends not to.)
“You’ve been on that thing for hours, Nino,” Jun observes, as he sits down beside him, legs crossed, with Sho following suit.
“Dragon. Must. Be. Slayed. Village. Must. Not. Be. Razed.”
Jun rolls his eyes. Grabbing the piece of paper folded in his jacket, Jun hands it to Sho. “Anyway, here, like I was saying, I revised the lighting plans a little bit. What do you think?”
Sho looks the final plans over, settling into the hard bench right beside Jun. The two start discussing. Nino was absentmindedly listening as he was still thoroughly entrenched in a battle against some dragons, or whatever it was, on the tiny screen in his scratchy old blue DS, which he still keeps despite several new models Nintendo sent him. In any case, as Jun and Sho are busy confirming the set list, they notice the slight ruckus by the reception desk where one of their managers, the one who is usually in charge of concert arrangements (and coincidentally, Nino’s personal manager), was discussing with the hotel concierge.
Sho looks at his watch and realizes that they have been held up in the lobby for close around thirty minutes already, which is a tad bit irregular. Jun raises his eyebrow in question (or frankly, just sheer knowing, because he realizes that Sho is getting a little antsy, and in another thirty minutes, said antsy-ness will be duly converted to camera-smashing, umbrella-weilding temper. To Sho’s credit, his temper has improved over the years, but you never know.)
“Hold that thought about Summer Splash, I’ll just go check out what the fuss is with Nakata-san. I should, right?”
“Mmm-kay. Yeah.” From afar, he sees their manager gesticulating crazily to the cowering receptionist. He looks back at Sho’s knitted brows. Always a little suspicious and wary about even the slightest delays in plans, Jun thinks, not without fondness, as he flips opens his mobile phone.
Nino, who barely looks up from his game, says, “Baldy’s just probably having a fit over the pillow covers or something.”
"You're very fond of your manager, aren't you."
The gamer has a slight grin on his lips. “Yeah, he's bald.”
Sho leaves the two to their usual exchanges. When he gets close enough to the reception area, he hears Nakata-san, Nino’s small and balding manager, reprimand the receptionist in a stern, exacting voice.
“This is completely unacceptable, we have reserved those five suites well in advance! Now you tell us you only have one available?”
“-yes, we are fully aware of that, Nakata-san, and we apologize, that’s why we’re offering the three regular rooms and the suite free of charge-”
“ARASHI IS MADE UP OF FIVE PEOPLE, RECEPTIONIST-SAN, FIVE, NOT ONE, A STORM CAN’T POSSIBLY JUST BE COMPRISED OF ONE, DON’T YOU THINK? THIS IS ARASHI WE’RE TALKING ABOUT, AND DON’T TELL ME AGAIN ABOUT YOUR DINKY LITTLE REGULAR ROOMS, THAT’S NOT AN OPTION, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ARASHI? THEY TRAVELED ALL THE WAY HERE TO A SOLD-OUT VENUE, TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY! AND ERUPT IN A STORM OF BLOODY SPARKLES! AND WINKS! AND MEMBER AI! AND BURSTS OF CHOREOGRAPHY! AND ALL YOU CAN GIVE THEM ARE RINKY DINKY LITTLE REGULAR ROOMS WHEN WE SPECIFICALLY ASKED FOR SUITES, WHICH YOU OH-SO-CORTEOUSLY SAID YES TO IN YOUR NICE LITTLE CONFIRMATION E-MAIL! AM I WRONG TO BE A TINY BIT HYSTERICAL?”
As it turns out, “Baldy” is indeed having a fit, but it isn’t about pillowcases.
Sho walks towards Nakata. “Bal-I mean, Nakata-san, is that the problem? The suites?”
“Yes! They only have a suite left! And three regular rooms!” The rather robust man was red from exertion.
Sho frowns.
Nakata has only been with Arashi and more specifically, Nino, the past three years, being a newly scouted manager, and had not known Arashi in the relative obscurity of their earlier years. That they actually even shared rooms, sometimes three to a room at a time, was something that Nakata could never have fathomed. The Arashi Nakata knows was one that slept in suites and traveled in reasonable luxury, and for him, that fits because Arashi is currently Japan’s most prolific and most popular idol group.
With that in mind, Sho takes Nakata to the side gently. “Nakata-san, we’ll take those rooms. It’s perfectly fine.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” Sho could not help but add sternly, “Next time, please don’t make a big fuss like that, Nakata-san. I know you just wanted the best, but really, for future reference, if suites aren’t available, we don’t mind staying in regular rooms.”
Hearing the sincere tone in his voice, Nakata turns even redder, slightly bowing to him. “Very well, Sho-kun.”
As Sho collects the electronic card keys from the receptionist, he turns back to Nakata-san. Miffed, he says, “And also for your future reference, we don’t make people erupt in a storm of bloody sparkles.” Sho begins to walk away. “Sparkles, maybe, but not bloody sparkles,” he mutters to himself.
Nakata looks sheepish. The receptionist, on the other hand, is trying hard not to look gleeful.
*
“Okay, guys, who wants to take the suite? It has to be two people since there are only three regular rooms left,” Sho announces.
The rather catatonic, just woken-up Ohno mumbles, “I’ll take one of the regular rooms.”
For the first time, Nino looks up from his game and shoots a hurt look at Ohno. It is a miracle that Ohno even notices Nino’s reaction in his sleepy daze, because he says, “It’s good to miss each other sometimes, ne, Kazu?”
Pouting, Nino grabs one of the regular room card keys from Sho’s hand. They still walk off together, towards the elevator, a sleepy Ohno clinging to Nino’s arm.
“You two take the suite, okay?” Aiba says innocently, grabbing the remaining regular room card key. He lugs his small backpack, running to catch up with Ohno and Nino who already stepped inside the elevator.
When they were the only two left, Sho sneaks a glance at Jun.
Jun, who had his arms crossed, looks at him.
Sho coughs his fake cough (Jun can easily tell), and says, “Well, shall we?”
When Jun doesn’t reply, Sho coughs some more (also fake) and grabs his bag, heading straight to the elevators.
*
Jun finds his way to the lounge where the bar was still open.
“A dry martini, please,” he says, when the bartender approached him. “Make it a double.”
The elderly bartender bows low. “Certainly, sir.”
Sliding into a stool, he tries to peruse the paper where the final concert plans were outlined. Try as he might to focus, all the diagrams and the kanji blurred into undecipherable blots of ink.
Jun sighs and cracks his knuckles nervously.
It wasn’t that Jun was appalled, revolted, or disgusted by rooming with Sho for the next two nights. Hardly. It’s just that it’s been so long since he has roomed with anyone, and practically ages and ages since he’s shared a room with Sho. In other environments, being around Sho is actually pretty comfortable. Contrary to what it might seem to their fans, Sho and Jun are actually pretty good friends behind the scenes. Granted, they aren’t prone to sidling up to each other like melting butter on a piece of warm toast (like Ohmiya, if one was to be succinct about it), but they are close enough. They enjoy a drink or a meal together when their schedules permits, talking about work, life, and other normal things-surprisingly, they find that their views on a lot of matters match.
Not that surprising, actually, Jun thinks. In truth, there are a lot more similarities between Sho and Jun than there were differences.
The dry martini arrives in a delicate goblet, and Jun drinks down half of the contents in one gulp. He is deep in contemplation; it's a very good thing that there aren’t any other customers at the bar.
But what do I do? There are those uncomfortable increments, increments of a second, really, when they are together, that cause in Jun a sort of panic and an anxious feeling in his belly that he can’t quite explain. It happens when they share meaningful glances, when they look each other in the eye for a second too long, or when Sho nonchalantly makes physical contact with him (like earlier, with the hand on his back), or when they laugh a little too hard at something the other said that wasn’t that particularly funny, in hindsight. There are also times when Jun remembers how much he used to follow Sho around when he was younger-in a hero-worshipping-an-older-brother kind of way-and the memory of those days easily makes him blush in embarrassment right on the spot, even when Sho is not around.
He could deny it as much as he could, but he knows that there exists a boundary between him and Sho that they both just ignore, self-consciously. It is just easier that way. Jun never delves into those dark, uncharted territories, nor question its very existence.
After his third martini (it is no good to be hung over on a concert day), he mans it up and heads to the suite. The suite of doom, Jun couldn’t help but think.
*
When he gingerly lies down beside the sleeping Sho, his heartbeat races. It was not a new thing, he’s slept in the same room with Sho; it was just one of those situational increments that made him a little anxious and uncomfortable. Jun looks up at the ceiling, avoiding looking at Sho, willing his pulse to slow down and ease away.
He can hear Sho breathing. That was a new thing. It was strangely voyeuristic and calming at the same time, listening to Sho breathing evenly.
Like a firefly attracted to a source of light, he turns to Sho, sure that he was asleep. Sho already had the comforter kicked away from him, never liking the smothering heat of being under the covers. As per usual, Jun thinks. He also thinks about how Sho looks incredibly younger when he’s asleep, almost like those days when Jun was 16, and Sho, just a couple years older, when they usually bunked together during tours. It was the same pouty lips, the same tank top, the same knobby nose, the same huge forehead, the same bulky, attractive arms…
…Well, his arms aren’t the same.
His eyes pass over Sho’s arms repeatedly, down to his chest, so solid and real, and rather inviting. Jun wondered when Sho grew up to become such a man. Laughing inside, Jun then thinks about what an absurd sentiment it was, becoming nostalgic about a grown-up, manly, almost-thirty Sho. After all, they see each other almost every week, didn’t they? It was just strange, being able to observe Sho in such an intimate setting.
An annoying and pressing need to touch Sho, his arms, any part of him really, overcomes Jun, taking him by surprise.
No, you did not just think that. It’s just the proximity.
Tossing to his other side, he forces his eyes shut. He willed himself to sleep.
When he was already truly drowsy, on the threshold of deep sleep, a strong, well-shaped, and bare arm links around his stomach, so naturally and without much ceremony.
If he was more awake, Jun would have gasped, no, he would have resisted, or maybe possible even cussed out Sho, but in the darkness of the suite, it felt like the most logical thing, to have Sho embracing him. He had a vague inkling that this was highly irregular, but he couldn’t think-he was so sleepy-and Sho’s warmth enveloped him, was all around him, and he felt calm, so calm.
Sidling closer to Jun, Sho buries his face into Jun’s hair. The closer he gets, the quieter Jun becomes.
Jun felt weightless, and was soon sleeping deeply, his chest heaving peacefully.
“Jun,” Sho whispers to no one, soon also asleep again himself.
*
When Jun wakes up the next day, he finds only empty space beside him. Stretching like a cat, he yawns loudly. Then it hits him: they fell asleep together, with Sho’s arms around him.
Sho’s. Arms. Around. Him.
Suddenly dizzy, Jun puts on his glasses and walks towards the window, taking in the scenery. It looked like an amazing day. As the minutes pass, he does not know whether his heart was thumping like a herd of caribou chased by a hungry lion in the savannah because of the prospect of being in front of thousands of fans to perform and be Arashi (no, it never gets old), or because of how his skin so easily remembers the exact spots where it touched with Sho. Exactly where.
He decides he doesn’t exactly want to know what the answer to that was. He jumps into the shower, psyching himself instead for that day’s concert. Good thing Sho was out already, because “psyching himself” meant vocalizing like he was possessed. It is Jun’s way of assuaging his nerves, which have never gone away, despite how confident and self-assured he was on stage. In the shower, he lets all the not-quite-there notes rip, letting go, singing with all his might.
After stepping out of the shower, Jun feels invigorated, water droplets dripping down his neck. He almost forgets about last night. Almost.
*
Fukuoka certainly did not disappoint. The concert that they had just held felt electrifying, as it always does, but to Jun it felt even more so. When Sho corners him in the backstage, still high from the encore, Jun could not help but see it as a threat. A dangerous, alluring threat that makes his already pumping pulse beat faster. What is happening?
But when Sho is near enough that Jun could feel his body’s heated glow, owing to post-concert endorphins (and a mix of something else?), Sho only gives him a quick hug, like the ones he gave to the other three, something he always did after the last song.
Smiling tentatively, Sho says, “You slept well last night?”
To this, Jun could not help but laugh. After all, they just stepped off the stage from a three-hour concert, and Sho is asking if he slept well.
“I think I did.” Right then and there, his skin tingles again traitorously from memory.
Sho slightly purses his lips in thought. “That’s good.”
Nino sashays to the two, putting an arm around Jun. “Play nice, my awkward little darlings.”
Ohno, who was drinking from a water bottle, chuckles. “You play nice, Nino.”
Later, when Aiba was the first one to finish showering, he declares that he wants to have a drink with Arashi.
Nino throws his soggy, used sock at him.
“Guuuuys, I’m serious! Wasn’t tonight awesome? We should celebrate!” Aiba is all energy, helping (the term is relative, in this case) Jun pack his bag.
Not quite murderous, but definitely not amused, Jun growls, “Aiba, you just put that sweaty tank on top of my clean clothes!”
“Eh! Sorry, Jun-kun,” Aiba says, simpering like a puppy. “I’ll treat you to drinks to make up for it, ne? Come on!”
Ohno, who was drying his hair haphazardly with a towel, pipes up. “Aiba-chan, treat me as well?”
“You bet!”
Nino announces to everyone that he’s going “if Leader’s going and all paid for”.
In no time at all, Aiba grabs Nino and Ohno’s bag and hoists it on his shoulders. “Sho-kun?”
Glancing at their youngest member, who was texting idly at the corner, Sho replies, “Sure.”
When Aiba made a move to grab Sho’s bag as well, Sho heartily laughed. “Jeez Aiba-chan, is being a porter your second career? You don’t have to carry my bag so that I’d go drinking with you.”
“Yay!”
As they proceed to Aiba’s spacious Porsche Cayenne, Ohno and Nino made no move to get their bags from Aiba and carry it on their own.
Aiba did not mind.
*
Whenever Aiba treats for drinks, it’s always overflowing. Literally. At their 14th Moët bottle, Aiba was sloshing the champagne outside the champagne flutes.
Already quite drunk, Ohno raises his flute and asks, “Aiba-chan, just how rich are you? Do you earn more than we do? Mo-weeeeeeet is cho umaiiiiiii! I’m never drinking sake again!”
Laughing like a hyena, Aiba hooks his arm around Ohno. “You know what’s cho umai? Leader!”
The two of them double over with laughing. “Eh, you’re umai too, Aiba-chan,” Ohno declares, gulping down the contents of his champagne flute.
Nino, who has always been the weakest drinker among the five, was already passed out for an hour. He barely raises his head at Ohno and Aiba’s silly (bordering on flirtatious, if they weren’t drunk) exchange.
“Your eyes are red,” Jun says to Sho. They are sitting beside each other.
“I’m just feeling good,” Sho replies, clinking his flute with Jun’s untouched one on the bar counter. “Drink up!”
Obliging the other man, he downs the whole thing. Smiling, he says, “Happy?”
“Very.” Sho smiles back as he refills Jun’s flute.
*
After the ordeal that was herding the three piss-drunk and almost blind mice back to their respective rooms, Sho purposefully opens the door to their suite. Jun walks calmly behind him.
Crashing on the bed, Sho sighs contentedly. “That Aiba-chan is a big-spender. I’d never treat you guys to Moët, much less that amount.”
“Aiba is Aiba.” Jun changes out of his clothes into more comfortable ones. When he turns back to Sho, he sees that Sho’s eyes were on him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Jun slips into bed, massaging his head. “I think I smoked a little bit too much tonight.”
“Yeah, and you didn’t drink enough.”
“Champagne upsets my digestion, for some reason.”
Sho chuckles. He turns towards Jun, a slight smile on his face.
“What?” Jun shifts uncomfortably.
“Nothing, I’m just looking at you.”
“Why?”
A slight smirk about his mouth, Sho replies. “Just payback for last night.”
Jun stays silent, heart beating thunderously, yet again. Trying to preserve a mien of nonchalance, he says, “Well, this is fairly awkward.”
“Fairly.”
Several silent minutes pass. Sho is still looking at him. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“How about a thousand yen?”
“I’m not as stingy as Nino, but a thousand yen per thought is a little bit steep. Given that you think too much.”
“I do not.” I don’t. Wait! I don’t.
As if sensing Jun doing exactly what he said Jun does a lot (thinking!), Sho provokes him. “Prove it.”
Sho hovered over Jun, his arm propped to his side, daring Jun to something that has, unfairly, Jun thinks (thinks!), been in his mind since the previous night.
Maybe it was because of Sho’s self-satisfied face, or the fact that he was being dared, and that he hated being on the losing end, or something else completely, but he just suddenly found his hands linking to Sho’s nape, pulling him down. When their lips touch, it was almost as if the rest of Sho’s body molds into his own, as Sho sinuously climbs on top of him.
The kiss itself was gentle, more tentative than anything Jun has experienced before. Sho’s warmth was almost suffocating, if only it wasn’t so damn…welcoming. Sho breaks the kiss, looking at Jun with wonder, reaching out to Jun’s face to touch it.
“Well. Wow.”
Jun grins, not able to stop himself. “So, what did that prove?”
“Nothing. Only that I want to do more of this proving stuff,” Sho replies.
Jun shifts a little bit under Sho. “This is still a little bit awkward though. I mean, what-what is this? What are we?”
Before Sho reaches down for Jun’s lips again, he says, “It’s inevitable. We’re inevitable. Always has been.”
A combination of arctic chill and heat the intensity of boiling lava rushes over Jun. He gives in fully.
It wasn’t a boundary that was between them after all. It was just a lack of realization of what was real, and rang true in him, from the tips of his hairs to his toes: that he might just like Sho (or has liked ever since), and not only as a fellow band-member, not only as a colleague, not only as a friend, but as something more; the thought of which, blew his mind.
It felt like such a revelation because it felt right. Cigarette and champagne flavored kisses felt so right.
“I want this. I’ve always wanted this,” Sho whispers.
“Same.” Because that was as bare as the truth could be.
With Sho’s arms around him, the two of them face to face, Jun sleeps, snuggling closer to Sho’s warmth.
*
“Since you slept together for two nights, how about sleeping together for the rest of your life?” Nino asks Sho, all feigned innocence and suspicious sparkles in his eyes. Being the only two already awake, they headed down to the traditional Japanese restaurant within the inn for breakfast.
Agitated, Sho replies. “We didn’t sleep together that way.”
“Such a dirty mind you have, Sho-chan. I didn’t mean it that way either.”
Sho reddens, not daring to meet Nino’s eyes because looking straight into those laser-like, shiba inu eyes had the effect of feeling like he lost, in some way. Especially when he was blushing like no one’s business.
Nino grins and only says, “Well, for now.” He slurps his noodles noisily.
“I hope your hangover lasts the whole day.”
“Sure, Sho-chan.” Enter more annoying noodle-slurping noises.
*
Before leaving the inn, Sho heads towards the reception area, where the same girl that Nakata screamed at was stationed.
“Anything else I can do for you, Sakurai-san?” the receptionist asked, her voice obviously a little nervous, but still accommodating.
Sho smiles.
Her knees almost gave out. It’s not every day that Sakurai Sho smiled at her, in such close range, with such a gentle expression about his face.
Handing her an envelope, he only says, “Thank you for not having five suites.”
“You’re…welcome?”
Puzzled as she watches Sho walk away, she opens the envelope. It was a very, very strange day. In any case, she could not wait to tell her younger sister, who was a big fan of Arashi, what a big tipper Sakurai Sho was. Leaning on the counter, she still felt faint. Idol smiles and huge sums of money kind of had that dazzling effect.
When she spots Matsumoto Jun outside the inn with an equally charming smile as Sho catches up to him, and sees the latter touch Matsumoto’s back as if guiding him, the receptionist could not help but think that it was definitely not part of the “fan service” her little teenage sister tried to explain to her. Fishy, fishy.
But when she sees Ninomiya and Ohno holding hands as well, with Aiba’s arms around Ohno, a noisy trio causing ruckus behind the two, well, she couldn’t say for sure anymore.
Without meaning to, she feels a surge of warmth. Nakata-san pegged it down wonderfully.
Bloody sparkles.
- - -
Additional author's note: Ugh, I finally got a quick Sakumoto story out of my system! I've been writing a long one-shot on them for months which is turning out to be a little heavily-themed, and what can I say, I was having horrible writer's block. Also, recently, there's been so much Sakumoto fics to read (yay), that I was getting a tad bit too lazy to write! Anyway, I decided to write up something relatively light, and here it is! I had fun writing it and I hope you've enjoyed reading it!
;D