[FIC] banana box. g. arashi, aiba/jun fluff. 963 words.
Title: banana box
Group: Arashi
Pairing/Genre: Aiba/Jun, and it's sorta fluffy but mostly random.
Rating: G
Word Count: 963 words
Summary: Jun has this weird sense of deja-vu...
Notes: Written for my rainbowfilling prompt card! Prompt is: "Abandoned puppy in a banana box". Also: you can see how I am way more wordy when tipsy because that is how this fic started out... mmm parenthetical statements.
It wasn't every day that Matsumoto Jun thought that his life was mimicking his drama roles. In fact, ever since he had normalised making pasta at home since Bambino (for a very long time, he kept expecting someone to yell at him or for plates to drop out of his hands and he had a very difficult time smiling as he served dinner), there hadn't really been anything to remind him of his dramas. (Nino "complimenting" him on his ability to play a shitty actor during Natsuniji really didn't count.) But as with many rules that Jun made for his life, this one was to be broken.
It had been a normal sort of day - one involving a production meeting, a phone interview, a photoshoot, and a very long discussion with his manager about his image (these were more frequent than necessary, or so he thought) - so he wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary. But as he stepped out of the taxi in front of his apartment building, he felt the strangest sense of deja-vu. It was strange, because his apartment didn't look anything like Sumire's, and it had been nearly a decade since the drama, but he knew in his bones that this was reflecting a moment from a drama he would honestly rather forget.
The banana box was innocent enough in itself, sitting there on the sidewalk next to the street sign that said "No Parking Thu-Wed 6AM-9AM and 6PM-9PM, Except Sat when it is one hour free parking and Sunday when it is one and a half hours", but when it rustled there was no mistaking what was hidden beneath. As the taxi drew away from the curb, Jun approached the box with a mix of dread and resignation he couldn't make sense of; he was being drawn inexorably towards the box against his will.
"What is going on," he mumbled to himself as he finally reached the box, shifting his shoulder bag higher up near his neck in Sho-like paranoia of it slipping away. He knew what he would see almost before he opened it, but still he reached down to lift the flaps apart from one another, quickly in the same way that one would remove a Bandaid.
Inside the box was as much as he had expected: Aiba, limbs curled up and squashed against the edges, grinning up at him. "I was hoping it would rain," Aiba said, and if he didn't giggle, Jun could just hear it on his voice, which was really the kiss of death because Jun (and almost everybody Jun knew) couldn't resist an Aiba giggle - even an implied one.
Jun might not have been able to hide the smirk in the corner of his mouth, but he tried to mitigate it with his words. "You're not beaten unconscious, either," he said, holding the cardboard away from Aiba's face as he tried to stay squirrelled away. "Unless you'd like some help with that?"
Aiba did giggle this time, but it wasn't an acquiescent giggle. He didn't give an inch of ground, and pressed closer into himself, as though the banana box was to be his home for now. "No... I was thinking you might push me to your apartment, though." Jun opened his mouth to protest, but Aiba spoke again. "Surely you're stronger than Kyouki-chan."
Jun's lips fell back into a smirk. "You know, she'd kill you if she heard you called her that."
Aiba attempted a shrug, though truncated by his self-imposed captivity. "I'm not really worried about Sumire," he said. Jun could sense something more, though, and knew he was right when Aiba broke into a grin a moment later. "I just wanted to see Momo."
Before Jun could threaten to kill Aiba for calling him that, a voice rang down from the first-floor balcony. "Matsumoto-san," called the middle-aged housewife, who was perpetually in a pink frilly apron, even past eleven at night, "what's in that box? I've been wondering all evening."
Jun smiled up at her and let the flaps fall back down on Aiba's face. "Just a bunch of rotten bananas, Yamagata-san," he called back, trying not to laugh as the box emitted an offended "Oi!"
"That's good to hear. For a moment I thought it might have been an abandoned animal. Well, goodnight, Matsumoto-san!"
"Goodnight, Yamagata-san," Jun replied, and waited for her to retreat from the balcony before opening the flaps of the box again.
"Rotten bananas? I'll have you know my banana is-"
"Please, spare me," Jun replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. Aiba giggled again, and Jun looked back at him, holding out his hand. "I'm too tired to push you all the way to my apartment. But I promise to scratch behind your ears if you get up and walk with me."
Aiba considered this for a moment. "Will you scratch my belly, too?"
Jun couldn't help the way his lips quirk. He nodded, and Aiba grinned, reaching out and taking Jun's hand. Getting out of the box wasn't exactly graceful, though, and involved Jun tugging under his arms, his shoulder bag slamming against Aiba's arm, and a very awkward standing position as Aiba's legs had numbed themselves to sleep during his time curled up.
"I don't think I can walk," Aiba said when Jun finally let him go and he was standing on his own two feet.
Jun rolled his eyes and started walking towards his apartment. "If you can't walk, you can't make it to my place, and if you can't make it, no belly rubs!" He heard the scramble of cardboard and what sounded like a knee connecting with the ground, but Aiba was walking beside him in a moment. Jun grinned over at him. "Good boy."
Group: Arashi
Pairing/Genre: Aiba/Jun, and it's sorta fluffy but mostly random.
Rating: G
Word Count: 963 words
Summary: Jun has this weird sense of deja-vu...
Notes: Written for my rainbowfilling prompt card! Prompt is: "Abandoned puppy in a banana box". Also: you can see how I am way more wordy when tipsy because that is how this fic started out... mmm parenthetical statements.
It wasn't every day that Matsumoto Jun thought that his life was mimicking his drama roles. In fact, ever since he had normalised making pasta at home since Bambino (for a very long time, he kept expecting someone to yell at him or for plates to drop out of his hands and he had a very difficult time smiling as he served dinner), there hadn't really been anything to remind him of his dramas. (Nino "complimenting" him on his ability to play a shitty actor during Natsuniji really didn't count.) But as with many rules that Jun made for his life, this one was to be broken.
It had been a normal sort of day - one involving a production meeting, a phone interview, a photoshoot, and a very long discussion with his manager about his image (these were more frequent than necessary, or so he thought) - so he wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary. But as he stepped out of the taxi in front of his apartment building, he felt the strangest sense of deja-vu. It was strange, because his apartment didn't look anything like Sumire's, and it had been nearly a decade since the drama, but he knew in his bones that this was reflecting a moment from a drama he would honestly rather forget.
The banana box was innocent enough in itself, sitting there on the sidewalk next to the street sign that said "No Parking Thu-Wed 6AM-9AM and 6PM-9PM, Except Sat when it is one hour free parking and Sunday when it is one and a half hours", but when it rustled there was no mistaking what was hidden beneath. As the taxi drew away from the curb, Jun approached the box with a mix of dread and resignation he couldn't make sense of; he was being drawn inexorably towards the box against his will.
"What is going on," he mumbled to himself as he finally reached the box, shifting his shoulder bag higher up near his neck in Sho-like paranoia of it slipping away. He knew what he would see almost before he opened it, but still he reached down to lift the flaps apart from one another, quickly in the same way that one would remove a Bandaid.
Inside the box was as much as he had expected: Aiba, limbs curled up and squashed against the edges, grinning up at him. "I was hoping it would rain," Aiba said, and if he didn't giggle, Jun could just hear it on his voice, which was really the kiss of death because Jun (and almost everybody Jun knew) couldn't resist an Aiba giggle - even an implied one.
Jun might not have been able to hide the smirk in the corner of his mouth, but he tried to mitigate it with his words. "You're not beaten unconscious, either," he said, holding the cardboard away from Aiba's face as he tried to stay squirrelled away. "Unless you'd like some help with that?"
Aiba did giggle this time, but it wasn't an acquiescent giggle. He didn't give an inch of ground, and pressed closer into himself, as though the banana box was to be his home for now. "No... I was thinking you might push me to your apartment, though." Jun opened his mouth to protest, but Aiba spoke again. "Surely you're stronger than Kyouki-chan."
Jun's lips fell back into a smirk. "You know, she'd kill you if she heard you called her that."
Aiba attempted a shrug, though truncated by his self-imposed captivity. "I'm not really worried about Sumire," he said. Jun could sense something more, though, and knew he was right when Aiba broke into a grin a moment later. "I just wanted to see Momo."
Before Jun could threaten to kill Aiba for calling him that, a voice rang down from the first-floor balcony. "Matsumoto-san," called the middle-aged housewife, who was perpetually in a pink frilly apron, even past eleven at night, "what's in that box? I've been wondering all evening."
Jun smiled up at her and let the flaps fall back down on Aiba's face. "Just a bunch of rotten bananas, Yamagata-san," he called back, trying not to laugh as the box emitted an offended "Oi!"
"That's good to hear. For a moment I thought it might have been an abandoned animal. Well, goodnight, Matsumoto-san!"
"Goodnight, Yamagata-san," Jun replied, and waited for her to retreat from the balcony before opening the flaps of the box again.
"Rotten bananas? I'll have you know my banana is-"
"Please, spare me," Jun replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. Aiba giggled again, and Jun looked back at him, holding out his hand. "I'm too tired to push you all the way to my apartment. But I promise to scratch behind your ears if you get up and walk with me."
Aiba considered this for a moment. "Will you scratch my belly, too?"
Jun couldn't help the way his lips quirk. He nodded, and Aiba grinned, reaching out and taking Jun's hand. Getting out of the box wasn't exactly graceful, though, and involved Jun tugging under his arms, his shoulder bag slamming against Aiba's arm, and a very awkward standing position as Aiba's legs had numbed themselves to sleep during his time curled up.
"I don't think I can walk," Aiba said when Jun finally let him go and he was standing on his own two feet.
Jun rolled his eyes and started walking towards his apartment. "If you can't walk, you can't make it to my place, and if you can't make it, no belly rubs!" He heard the scramble of cardboard and what sounded like a knee connecting with the ground, but Aiba was walking beside him in a moment. Jun grinned over at him. "Good boy."