[030] Unravel - Arashi (Jun/Aiba)
Title: Unravel
Group: Arashi
Pairing/Genre: Matsumoto Jun/Aiba Masaki; fluff
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3100
Summary: The problem is, Jun has no loose threads. Aiba would know - he's been picking at Jun's edges for years. Maybe today, he thinks hopefully, staring out at the gray skies, the puddles nearly big enough to swim in forming on the asphalt. Maybe this time.
Notes: Remix of track_04's Raindrops for jentfic_remix. Having a serious soft spot for Jun/Aiba, I read this little drabble and instantly thought "oh my god, love." I wanted to expand on the story and honestly, have been jonesin' for some Jun/Aiba like a selfish bitch, so. :D Many thanks to my betas, as always, Anie & Jen. <3
•••••
spring, 2000
It's raining when practice finally ends for the day. Aiba is 17 and full of energy, all long limbs and dirty thoughts. Standing next to him and looking positively dour at the sheets of rain hitting the blacktop, Jun glances at his watch, then behind them. Aiba's known Jun for close to five years now and he's still surprised by Jun's consistent seriousness. Moments of silly peer through every once in a while, usually in front of a camera and almost always accompanied by a giant, toothy grin, but the Jun Aiba knows in private is reserved, awkward, serious to a fault.
Aiba just wants to pull him apart, thread by thread.
The problem is, Jun has no loose threads. Aiba would know - he's been picking at Jun's edges for years. Maybe today, he thinks hopefully, staring out at the gray skies, the puddles nearly big enough to swim in forming on the asphalt. Maybe this time.
"Come on, Matsujun," Aiba says, pushing open the door and tipping his face back to catch some of the chilly droplets. It's still early enough in the season for the rain to cool the air enough to almost be uncomfortable. If he hadn't spent the last few hours sweating his butt off in practice, Aiba might care. (Though that's highly unlikely.)
Jun scowls, poking his head around the door frame to watch the rain fall, as if he could stop it with the power of his mind. "But it's raining."
Aiba holds back an exasperated sigh and grabs Jun's hand lightly. "Exactly," he says quietly, eyes serious. He can almost see Jun's edges tightening, closing up. It's not that Jun doesn't like to do fun things - it's that he doesn't like to do things that could get him dirty, wet or in trouble. Aiba can respect that. But Aiba respects having fun more. They're still kids, after all.
"Come on!" he says, tugging Jun a few steps through the door.
Aiba's already nearly soaked, his hair slipping into his eyes, shirt clinging to his chest and back. He feels Jun hesitate inches from the downpour and scowls.
"Wait, I don't think I want to," Jun says suddenly. Aiba can see the apprehension in his eyes, the fear that they're doing something wrong. He pauses for a moment, not sure how to assuage Jun's fears.
"It's just a little rain, Matsujun," he replies. Aiba squeezes their joined hands once and smiles, feeling his whole face light up. His grin falters as Jun's apprehension turns into a full frown and Aiba wonders if maybe he'll have to play in the rain by himself. (And that's hardly any fun at all.)
He feels Jun squeeze back, perhaps unconsciously, and Aiba's smile goes even wider. Jun glances down at his watch and back up at Aiba's face a few times before finally sighing and letting himself be led forward into the storm.
"Five minutes, then I'm going back inside," Aiba hears Jun mumble just loud enough to be heard over the rain.
"You won't want to!" Aiba's squeezes their joined hands one more time before skipping off to frolic in the rain. It's like being a kid again, before they had schedules and managers and the ability to drink a whole pot of coffee before 10 a.m. Aiba doesn't get many moments like this anymore and he's going to savor it. He's splashing through a particularly large puddle before he realizes Jun's not splashing with him. Turning, Aiba chuckles at the sight of Jun looking like a drenched cat - incredibly unhappy with his situation and frowning at his watch. Aiba grabs Jun by the hand again and pulls him under the overflowing rain gutter, heaving a breathy laugh as Jun sputters and curses. He holds back the "your mom wouldn't like hearing those words out of your mouth, Matsujun," and kicks through another large puddle, splashing Jun's legs with muddy water. Aiba's speechless when, seconds later, Jun splashes him back, almost on reflex. Jun's laughter breaks the silence, echoing through the rain, and Aiba can't help but join him.
It's almost half an hour later before they finally trudge back inside, dripping water everywhere and laughing loudly. Aiba smiles - finally, a loose thread.
summer, 2003
Aiba’s body is still thrumming with post-concert energy when he glances at his watch and grimaces. Nino’s snoring on the other bed, having no issues with passing out almost immediately after they’d gotten back to their shared room. Arashi is just barely famous enough to justify their own rooms while on tour, but Aiba doesn’t like to sleep alone and Nino is a chronic cuddler. It just works out better this way.
Ohno, Sho and Jun, however, had jumped at the chance for their own rooms. Presumably so the former two could watch porn in privacy (not that Ohno much cared, Aiba knew), and the latter so he could have his own bathroom. That didn’t keep Aiba from swiping a copy of Jun’s room key before they’d left for the concert venue, however.
Aiba’s watch is ticking closer and closer to midnight as he descends in the elevator to the lobby, searching in earnest for a vending machine. He smiles as he drops in his change, holds his purchase to his chest like it’s made of gold. He briefly considers taking the stairs, but that cough has been getting worse lately. Aiba tries not to think about it as he presses the bright gold 4 in the elevator. No need to worry the rest of the group, he thinks. It’s probably just another nasty bout of hay fever. He ignores the tight feeling in his chest as he coughs twice, three times before the elevator finally stops on their floor.
He’s trying to be stealthy, but Aiba really should know by now that Jun doesn’t sleep for hours after a concert. Aiba’s hand is still on the handle of the door when Jun pulls it open, the room’s hair dryer in one hand and murder on his face.
"Oh," he says, dropping the hair dryer on a nearby counter. "You could have knocked, you know." Jun turns his back on Aiba and goes back to the place he’d obviously recently vacated - one side of the double bed turned down, pillows pushed up against the headboard, and the most recent Harry Potter open on the bedside table. Its edges are frayed and well-worn. The book’s been out for less than 2 months and Jun’s already read it enough to wear the edges down. Aiba smiles softly as he remembers that day in the rain, that desire to wear Jun’s edges down. He wonders if maybe the fact that Jun hadn’t immediately kicked him and told him to go away is a good sign. He’s going to take it as such.
Aiba bounces into place on the unused half of the bed, making himself comfortable and keeping one hand carefully out of sight. Jun’s settling back into place when he finally asks, "So why exactly are you here?"
"It’s your birthday, Matsujun," Aiba exclaims, pointing at the red numbers of the alarm clock very clearly reading 12:02 a.m.
"Oh, hey, it is." Jun makes a pleased sound through his nose and pushes his glasses up, focusing on his book once again.
Aiba’s shocked for a moment by Jun’s disinterest in his own birthday (his own birthday! - Aiba gets birthday-blocked by Christmas each year and he still gets excited about his). He’s trying to find a comfortable position against the headboard (Jun stole all the pillows for himself - Aiba’s beginning to rethink this whole "having one’s own room" thing), not wanting to wiggle too much, when Jun sighs and puts his book back down, looking at Aiba over the rim of his glasses.
"Is there something you wanted, Masaki?"
Aiba both hates and loves when Jun calls him by his given name. Only Jun can make a name sound like a term of endearment and a scold at the same time. He fidgets for a moment before deciding the best course of action is always honesty. Well, almost always. Well, right now, anyway.
"I wanted to give you your birthday present," he says, trying not to let too much excitement creep into his voice.
Jun frowns a little, that familiar line creasing his forehead, and looks at Aiba curiously. "Okay. So..." He holds out his hands a bit lamely and cocks his head.
Aiba chuckles. "Close your eyes," he says, grabbing his vending machine purchase and trying to unwrap it quietly as Jun obliges him.
When Jun opens his eyes again, Aiba’s not sure if he’s pleased, disgusted or just plain confused.
"This is melon pan," he says flatly.
"Yes, it is," Aiba replies, voice bright, but wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have tried.
"You bought me melon pan."
"Yes, I did."
"For my birthday."
"Yup!"
"My favorite melon pan."
"Correct again!"
Jun’s looking at the bread like it’s made of gold and Aiba allows himself to hope for a moment. When Jun looks at him again, his eyes are sparkling with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Masaki," he whispers, blinking hard and wiping his face.
"You’re welcome, Jun," Aiba replies.
They sit in comfortable silence, smiling at each other for a moment before Aiba reaches out and breaks off a piece of the melon pan, popping it in his mouth. They’re both laughing when Jun cuffs him on the head, whispering a soft "idiot" and taking a bite of his own.
fall, 2007
Aiba is idly pondering how nice everyone’s skin looks against the purple costumes they’re wearing for the performance when Jun sidles up next to him. The leaves are just starting to turn the bright colors of impending winter and Aiba can feel Arashi’s leaves turning, as well. He says as much to Jun and gets a pinch to one arm for his trouble. Jun softens the blow by smiling, a bit giddy, too. They both know they wouldn’t be on the rise had it not been for Jun’s drama and subsequent sequel this year. It seems rather fitting that they’re performing Happiness this time on Music Station, Aiba thinks as warmth bubbles up in his chest.
"Your hair’s getting a bit shaggy again," Jun comments quietly, watching Ohno and Nino pester Sho in the corner. Sho’s laughing when Aiba finally catches up to Jun’s comment.
"I like it this way," Aiba replies, running lazy fingers across his hair. It is perhaps getting a bit too long, but Aiba’s never really cared about his hair - long, short, blonde, black. It’s just hair, in the end. He looks at Jun and tries not to smile, remembering the ill-fated extensions of the previous year. Thank goodness he got rid of those, Aiba thinks. "Besides," he continues. "It makes my earring a surprise. Like, oh, what’s that? BOOM, earring."
Jun chuckles and shakes his head in what Aiba chooses to believe is a fond gesture. They’ve known each other for over a decade and Aiba still finds himself guessing at Jun’s moods more often than not.
"You’re different, too," Aiba says, almost a non-sequitur. He never was very good at segues, but Aiba chooses not to let that little fact bother him.
"How do you mean?" Jun asks. He’s looking at Aiba now, eyes wide.
"You’re softer. Makino made you softer." Aiba’s almost instantly sure that’s the wrong thing to say as Jun’s face goes hard, his emotions closing off completely.
"It’s just a show, Masaki," Jun replies, his words falling like ice. Aiba’s not sure what he’s done wrong, but he knows he’d do anything to make it better.
"I just meant, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -" He’s stumbling over his words for a few moments before Jun finally takes pity on him.
"Don’t worry about it," Jun replies, but he’s turning and walking away before Aiba can really apologize for whatever he’s done wrong.
Aiba frets internally right up to the 30 second warning before the performance. Jun walks past him and brushes their fingers together, the hint of a smile across his face and Aiba thinks maybe, just maybe, they might be okay.
winter, 2012
They’ve all gathered for Aiba’s birthday a few days before Christmas - all of Arashi, a few other members of the company Aiba’s friendly with, some personal friends, his little brother. It’s been an hour or so since everyone but Arashi has wandered off, no more than 20 minutes since Nino took off with the cute guy at the bar, 15 since Ohno and Sho left with the twin sisters they picked up earlier. It’s finally just Aiba and Jun at the table, sharing memories of their career and stories of their days for a few minutes. Aiba thinks maybe 30 won’t be so bad if he gets to spend it like this - watching Jun talk excitedly about his new stageplay and how he’s definitely going to be directing HSJ’s next video.
Aiba leans back on his side of the booth and takes a long pull from his drink. He’s trying not to be disappointed that no one stuck around for midnight, even if his birthday isn’t for almost half a week. It’s the midnight that makes Aiba excited - the start of a brand new day, a brand new opportunity to live his life. He never thought they’d get this far, be this successful. He never thought he’d get Jun to smile like that just by being around him. For now, Aiba watches Jun talk and smiles, thinking maybe this would be a pretty decent birthday present.
His moment is short-lived as Jun glances at his watch and frowns. Aiba’s transported back a billion years to that day in the rain - coaxing Jun outside to have fun. He sometimes thinks that’s when Jun finally started loosening up, but Aiba doesn’t want to take all the credit. Sometimes he thinks Jun has a long way to go. But Aiba likes him this way, all sharp edges and careful planning. It makes those moments when Jun does let go that much more enjoyable.
"Got a hot date or something?" Aiba asks, keeping his voice light and teasing. He hopes the truth isn’t something he doesn’t want to hear.
"No, I’ve just got..." Jun hesitates and looks up at Aiba. "I’m sorry, I’ve got to go."
Aiba moves to get out of the booth and finds himself blocked by Jun’s hand. "No, stay," Jun insists. "Stay, drink, eat, be merry. I think Yoko’s still floating around here somewhere. I’ll take care of the bill." Jun smiles, a genuine, broad smile and Aiba melts a little. He leans in close and whispers, "Happy birthday, Aiba-chan."
It takes a few minutes for Aiba to come back to himself and look around. No one seems to notice his near-catatonic state. No one seems to notice him at all. Aiba briefly considers looking for Yoko in the crowded bar, but decides to let it go. He just wants to go home and mope for a while. Aiba’s never been one much for self-pity, but when it takes hold, it’s hard to shake.
Dropping a few bills on the table for the service (the waitress certainly deserves it after putting up with their raucous booth for the better part of the evening), Aiba heads out into the cold and can’t help but smile at the snowflakes falling quietly to the ground. The best part of his birthday so far has always been the snow.
He decides to walk home and enjoy the weather, ignoring the biting wind that whips through his all-too-thin coat. It’s cold, but still lovely as the snow starts piling up along windowsills and park benches. Aiba thinks as he walks, pondering where he is as a person, where he’s going. His career seems stable enough, releasing a single here and there, doing a drama once a year, the occasional stageplay. He ignores his mother’s pleas for grandchildren on a near-daily basis, diverting her attention to her married son, much to the younger Aiba’s dismay. He chuckles sadly at the thought and wonders if his mother will ever accept the fact that he won’t ever be getting married.
Aiba finds himself in front of his apartment building all too quickly. He takes the elevator out of laziness, not need, and pauses outside his door.
"I’m going to end this day on a high note," he says to himself, nodding briskly. "I’m going to go inside, get some eggnog, and watch movies in my underpants until I pass out on the couch. Good plan, Aiba-chan!"
All plans are instantly derailed the moment he steps inside.
The lights are still off, but Aiba can tell something’s different. Not wrong, necessarily. Just... different. Odd. There’s a familiar, if unexpected, pair of shoes in the genkan, a coat tossed over the back of one easy chair. Aiba slides off his own shoes and pads into the kitchen, coat still tight around his shoulders, to find Jun standing there, smiling broadly.
"What..." Aiba trails off as he notices several things: 1. Jun is holding a cupcake. 2. It has a candle in it. 3. Jun is in his kitchen. Holding a cupcake. And smiling about it. Collecting himself, Aiba starts over, smile twitching the corners of his mouth. "Breaking and entering is a crime, you know."
"It’s not breaking and entering if you gave me a key," Jun replies, holding the cupcake out.
"I gave you that key five years ago."
"Still works."
Aiba pauses to process as Jun takes several steps closer.
"Are you going to eat this cupcake or do I get to keep it all to myself?" Jun teases, eyes dancing.
"No, no, I’ll eat it. It is my birthday, after all," Aiba replies. He takes a step closer to Jun.
"Make a wish, Masaki," Jun whispers. At this distance, Aiba can see the hope in Jun’s eyes, the insecurity and the fear that this gesture might not be quite as well received as he’d thought. Aiba wants to laugh and tell Jun he could give him a cardboard box for his birthday and Aiba would still be overjoyed.
"Why bother?" Aiba asks, leaning forward and pushing the cupcake out of the way. "I think I’m about to get everything I’ve ever wanted."
EDIT: Now with bonus comment fic!
Group: Arashi
Pairing/Genre: Matsumoto Jun/Aiba Masaki; fluff
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3100
Summary: The problem is, Jun has no loose threads. Aiba would know - he's been picking at Jun's edges for years. Maybe today, he thinks hopefully, staring out at the gray skies, the puddles nearly big enough to swim in forming on the asphalt. Maybe this time.
Notes: Remix of track_04's Raindrops for jentfic_remix. Having a serious soft spot for Jun/Aiba, I read this little drabble and instantly thought "oh my god, love." I wanted to expand on the story and honestly, have been jonesin' for some Jun/Aiba like a selfish bitch, so. :D Many thanks to my betas, as always, Anie & Jen. <3
•••••
spring, 2000
It's raining when practice finally ends for the day. Aiba is 17 and full of energy, all long limbs and dirty thoughts. Standing next to him and looking positively dour at the sheets of rain hitting the blacktop, Jun glances at his watch, then behind them. Aiba's known Jun for close to five years now and he's still surprised by Jun's consistent seriousness. Moments of silly peer through every once in a while, usually in front of a camera and almost always accompanied by a giant, toothy grin, but the Jun Aiba knows in private is reserved, awkward, serious to a fault.
Aiba just wants to pull him apart, thread by thread.
The problem is, Jun has no loose threads. Aiba would know - he's been picking at Jun's edges for years. Maybe today, he thinks hopefully, staring out at the gray skies, the puddles nearly big enough to swim in forming on the asphalt. Maybe this time.
"Come on, Matsujun," Aiba says, pushing open the door and tipping his face back to catch some of the chilly droplets. It's still early enough in the season for the rain to cool the air enough to almost be uncomfortable. If he hadn't spent the last few hours sweating his butt off in practice, Aiba might care. (Though that's highly unlikely.)
Jun scowls, poking his head around the door frame to watch the rain fall, as if he could stop it with the power of his mind. "But it's raining."
Aiba holds back an exasperated sigh and grabs Jun's hand lightly. "Exactly," he says quietly, eyes serious. He can almost see Jun's edges tightening, closing up. It's not that Jun doesn't like to do fun things - it's that he doesn't like to do things that could get him dirty, wet or in trouble. Aiba can respect that. But Aiba respects having fun more. They're still kids, after all.
"Come on!" he says, tugging Jun a few steps through the door.
Aiba's already nearly soaked, his hair slipping into his eyes, shirt clinging to his chest and back. He feels Jun hesitate inches from the downpour and scowls.
"Wait, I don't think I want to," Jun says suddenly. Aiba can see the apprehension in his eyes, the fear that they're doing something wrong. He pauses for a moment, not sure how to assuage Jun's fears.
"It's just a little rain, Matsujun," he replies. Aiba squeezes their joined hands once and smiles, feeling his whole face light up. His grin falters as Jun's apprehension turns into a full frown and Aiba wonders if maybe he'll have to play in the rain by himself. (And that's hardly any fun at all.)
He feels Jun squeeze back, perhaps unconsciously, and Aiba's smile goes even wider. Jun glances down at his watch and back up at Aiba's face a few times before finally sighing and letting himself be led forward into the storm.
"Five minutes, then I'm going back inside," Aiba hears Jun mumble just loud enough to be heard over the rain.
"You won't want to!" Aiba's squeezes their joined hands one more time before skipping off to frolic in the rain. It's like being a kid again, before they had schedules and managers and the ability to drink a whole pot of coffee before 10 a.m. Aiba doesn't get many moments like this anymore and he's going to savor it. He's splashing through a particularly large puddle before he realizes Jun's not splashing with him. Turning, Aiba chuckles at the sight of Jun looking like a drenched cat - incredibly unhappy with his situation and frowning at his watch. Aiba grabs Jun by the hand again and pulls him under the overflowing rain gutter, heaving a breathy laugh as Jun sputters and curses. He holds back the "your mom wouldn't like hearing those words out of your mouth, Matsujun," and kicks through another large puddle, splashing Jun's legs with muddy water. Aiba's speechless when, seconds later, Jun splashes him back, almost on reflex. Jun's laughter breaks the silence, echoing through the rain, and Aiba can't help but join him.
It's almost half an hour later before they finally trudge back inside, dripping water everywhere and laughing loudly. Aiba smiles - finally, a loose thread.
summer, 2003
Aiba’s body is still thrumming with post-concert energy when he glances at his watch and grimaces. Nino’s snoring on the other bed, having no issues with passing out almost immediately after they’d gotten back to their shared room. Arashi is just barely famous enough to justify their own rooms while on tour, but Aiba doesn’t like to sleep alone and Nino is a chronic cuddler. It just works out better this way.
Ohno, Sho and Jun, however, had jumped at the chance for their own rooms. Presumably so the former two could watch porn in privacy (not that Ohno much cared, Aiba knew), and the latter so he could have his own bathroom. That didn’t keep Aiba from swiping a copy of Jun’s room key before they’d left for the concert venue, however.
Aiba’s watch is ticking closer and closer to midnight as he descends in the elevator to the lobby, searching in earnest for a vending machine. He smiles as he drops in his change, holds his purchase to his chest like it’s made of gold. He briefly considers taking the stairs, but that cough has been getting worse lately. Aiba tries not to think about it as he presses the bright gold 4 in the elevator. No need to worry the rest of the group, he thinks. It’s probably just another nasty bout of hay fever. He ignores the tight feeling in his chest as he coughs twice, three times before the elevator finally stops on their floor.
He’s trying to be stealthy, but Aiba really should know by now that Jun doesn’t sleep for hours after a concert. Aiba’s hand is still on the handle of the door when Jun pulls it open, the room’s hair dryer in one hand and murder on his face.
"Oh," he says, dropping the hair dryer on a nearby counter. "You could have knocked, you know." Jun turns his back on Aiba and goes back to the place he’d obviously recently vacated - one side of the double bed turned down, pillows pushed up against the headboard, and the most recent Harry Potter open on the bedside table. Its edges are frayed and well-worn. The book’s been out for less than 2 months and Jun’s already read it enough to wear the edges down. Aiba smiles softly as he remembers that day in the rain, that desire to wear Jun’s edges down. He wonders if maybe the fact that Jun hadn’t immediately kicked him and told him to go away is a good sign. He’s going to take it as such.
Aiba bounces into place on the unused half of the bed, making himself comfortable and keeping one hand carefully out of sight. Jun’s settling back into place when he finally asks, "So why exactly are you here?"
"It’s your birthday, Matsujun," Aiba exclaims, pointing at the red numbers of the alarm clock very clearly reading 12:02 a.m.
"Oh, hey, it is." Jun makes a pleased sound through his nose and pushes his glasses up, focusing on his book once again.
Aiba’s shocked for a moment by Jun’s disinterest in his own birthday (his own birthday! - Aiba gets birthday-blocked by Christmas each year and he still gets excited about his). He’s trying to find a comfortable position against the headboard (Jun stole all the pillows for himself - Aiba’s beginning to rethink this whole "having one’s own room" thing), not wanting to wiggle too much, when Jun sighs and puts his book back down, looking at Aiba over the rim of his glasses.
"Is there something you wanted, Masaki?"
Aiba both hates and loves when Jun calls him by his given name. Only Jun can make a name sound like a term of endearment and a scold at the same time. He fidgets for a moment before deciding the best course of action is always honesty. Well, almost always. Well, right now, anyway.
"I wanted to give you your birthday present," he says, trying not to let too much excitement creep into his voice.
Jun frowns a little, that familiar line creasing his forehead, and looks at Aiba curiously. "Okay. So..." He holds out his hands a bit lamely and cocks his head.
Aiba chuckles. "Close your eyes," he says, grabbing his vending machine purchase and trying to unwrap it quietly as Jun obliges him.
When Jun opens his eyes again, Aiba’s not sure if he’s pleased, disgusted or just plain confused.
"This is melon pan," he says flatly.
"Yes, it is," Aiba replies, voice bright, but wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have tried.
"You bought me melon pan."
"Yes, I did."
"For my birthday."
"Yup!"
"My favorite melon pan."
"Correct again!"
Jun’s looking at the bread like it’s made of gold and Aiba allows himself to hope for a moment. When Jun looks at him again, his eyes are sparkling with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Masaki," he whispers, blinking hard and wiping his face.
"You’re welcome, Jun," Aiba replies.
They sit in comfortable silence, smiling at each other for a moment before Aiba reaches out and breaks off a piece of the melon pan, popping it in his mouth. They’re both laughing when Jun cuffs him on the head, whispering a soft "idiot" and taking a bite of his own.
fall, 2007
Aiba is idly pondering how nice everyone’s skin looks against the purple costumes they’re wearing for the performance when Jun sidles up next to him. The leaves are just starting to turn the bright colors of impending winter and Aiba can feel Arashi’s leaves turning, as well. He says as much to Jun and gets a pinch to one arm for his trouble. Jun softens the blow by smiling, a bit giddy, too. They both know they wouldn’t be on the rise had it not been for Jun’s drama and subsequent sequel this year. It seems rather fitting that they’re performing Happiness this time on Music Station, Aiba thinks as warmth bubbles up in his chest.
"Your hair’s getting a bit shaggy again," Jun comments quietly, watching Ohno and Nino pester Sho in the corner. Sho’s laughing when Aiba finally catches up to Jun’s comment.
"I like it this way," Aiba replies, running lazy fingers across his hair. It is perhaps getting a bit too long, but Aiba’s never really cared about his hair - long, short, blonde, black. It’s just hair, in the end. He looks at Jun and tries not to smile, remembering the ill-fated extensions of the previous year. Thank goodness he got rid of those, Aiba thinks. "Besides," he continues. "It makes my earring a surprise. Like, oh, what’s that? BOOM, earring."
Jun chuckles and shakes his head in what Aiba chooses to believe is a fond gesture. They’ve known each other for over a decade and Aiba still finds himself guessing at Jun’s moods more often than not.
"You’re different, too," Aiba says, almost a non-sequitur. He never was very good at segues, but Aiba chooses not to let that little fact bother him.
"How do you mean?" Jun asks. He’s looking at Aiba now, eyes wide.
"You’re softer. Makino made you softer." Aiba’s almost instantly sure that’s the wrong thing to say as Jun’s face goes hard, his emotions closing off completely.
"It’s just a show, Masaki," Jun replies, his words falling like ice. Aiba’s not sure what he’s done wrong, but he knows he’d do anything to make it better.
"I just meant, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -" He’s stumbling over his words for a few moments before Jun finally takes pity on him.
"Don’t worry about it," Jun replies, but he’s turning and walking away before Aiba can really apologize for whatever he’s done wrong.
Aiba frets internally right up to the 30 second warning before the performance. Jun walks past him and brushes their fingers together, the hint of a smile across his face and Aiba thinks maybe, just maybe, they might be okay.
winter, 2012
They’ve all gathered for Aiba’s birthday a few days before Christmas - all of Arashi, a few other members of the company Aiba’s friendly with, some personal friends, his little brother. It’s been an hour or so since everyone but Arashi has wandered off, no more than 20 minutes since Nino took off with the cute guy at the bar, 15 since Ohno and Sho left with the twin sisters they picked up earlier. It’s finally just Aiba and Jun at the table, sharing memories of their career and stories of their days for a few minutes. Aiba thinks maybe 30 won’t be so bad if he gets to spend it like this - watching Jun talk excitedly about his new stageplay and how he’s definitely going to be directing HSJ’s next video.
Aiba leans back on his side of the booth and takes a long pull from his drink. He’s trying not to be disappointed that no one stuck around for midnight, even if his birthday isn’t for almost half a week. It’s the midnight that makes Aiba excited - the start of a brand new day, a brand new opportunity to live his life. He never thought they’d get this far, be this successful. He never thought he’d get Jun to smile like that just by being around him. For now, Aiba watches Jun talk and smiles, thinking maybe this would be a pretty decent birthday present.
His moment is short-lived as Jun glances at his watch and frowns. Aiba’s transported back a billion years to that day in the rain - coaxing Jun outside to have fun. He sometimes thinks that’s when Jun finally started loosening up, but Aiba doesn’t want to take all the credit. Sometimes he thinks Jun has a long way to go. But Aiba likes him this way, all sharp edges and careful planning. It makes those moments when Jun does let go that much more enjoyable.
"Got a hot date or something?" Aiba asks, keeping his voice light and teasing. He hopes the truth isn’t something he doesn’t want to hear.
"No, I’ve just got..." Jun hesitates and looks up at Aiba. "I’m sorry, I’ve got to go."
Aiba moves to get out of the booth and finds himself blocked by Jun’s hand. "No, stay," Jun insists. "Stay, drink, eat, be merry. I think Yoko’s still floating around here somewhere. I’ll take care of the bill." Jun smiles, a genuine, broad smile and Aiba melts a little. He leans in close and whispers, "Happy birthday, Aiba-chan."
It takes a few minutes for Aiba to come back to himself and look around. No one seems to notice his near-catatonic state. No one seems to notice him at all. Aiba briefly considers looking for Yoko in the crowded bar, but decides to let it go. He just wants to go home and mope for a while. Aiba’s never been one much for self-pity, but when it takes hold, it’s hard to shake.
Dropping a few bills on the table for the service (the waitress certainly deserves it after putting up with their raucous booth for the better part of the evening), Aiba heads out into the cold and can’t help but smile at the snowflakes falling quietly to the ground. The best part of his birthday so far has always been the snow.
He decides to walk home and enjoy the weather, ignoring the biting wind that whips through his all-too-thin coat. It’s cold, but still lovely as the snow starts piling up along windowsills and park benches. Aiba thinks as he walks, pondering where he is as a person, where he’s going. His career seems stable enough, releasing a single here and there, doing a drama once a year, the occasional stageplay. He ignores his mother’s pleas for grandchildren on a near-daily basis, diverting her attention to her married son, much to the younger Aiba’s dismay. He chuckles sadly at the thought and wonders if his mother will ever accept the fact that he won’t ever be getting married.
Aiba finds himself in front of his apartment building all too quickly. He takes the elevator out of laziness, not need, and pauses outside his door.
"I’m going to end this day on a high note," he says to himself, nodding briskly. "I’m going to go inside, get some eggnog, and watch movies in my underpants until I pass out on the couch. Good plan, Aiba-chan!"
All plans are instantly derailed the moment he steps inside.
The lights are still off, but Aiba can tell something’s different. Not wrong, necessarily. Just... different. Odd. There’s a familiar, if unexpected, pair of shoes in the genkan, a coat tossed over the back of one easy chair. Aiba slides off his own shoes and pads into the kitchen, coat still tight around his shoulders, to find Jun standing there, smiling broadly.
"What..." Aiba trails off as he notices several things: 1. Jun is holding a cupcake. 2. It has a candle in it. 3. Jun is in his kitchen. Holding a cupcake. And smiling about it. Collecting himself, Aiba starts over, smile twitching the corners of his mouth. "Breaking and entering is a crime, you know."
"It’s not breaking and entering if you gave me a key," Jun replies, holding the cupcake out.
"I gave you that key five years ago."
"Still works."
Aiba pauses to process as Jun takes several steps closer.
"Are you going to eat this cupcake or do I get to keep it all to myself?" Jun teases, eyes dancing.
"No, no, I’ll eat it. It is my birthday, after all," Aiba replies. He takes a step closer to Jun.
"Make a wish, Masaki," Jun whispers. At this distance, Aiba can see the hope in Jun’s eyes, the insecurity and the fear that this gesture might not be quite as well received as he’d thought. Aiba wants to laugh and tell Jun he could give him a cardboard box for his birthday and Aiba would still be overjoyed.
"Why bother?" Aiba asks, leaning forward and pushing the cupcake out of the way. "I think I’m about to get everything I’ve ever wanted."
EDIT: Now with bonus comment fic!