Aiba/Jun fic, yay!
Dec. 12th, 2010 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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tangiblewhimsy is on a quest for more Aiba/Jun fic. And I said to myself 'who doesn't want more Aiba/Jun fic?!' and wrote something.
It's a random something with a random title from a song stuck in my head.
Getting to like
Jun didn't remember the name of the flower; he only knew it grew all over Hawaii and smelled like coconut and the scented vinyl skin of baby dolls—fruity sweet and plastic-y. He recognized Aiba's hand holding it, however; the round jade beads of his bracelet making his wrist look delicate.
There was no text with the picture, no subject on the email. Just Aiba's e-mail address and Jun's and the picture.
"What the hell?" Jun muttered, staring at it. Shutting his phone, he didn't reply.
A moment later he opened it again and made the photo his new background before turning his phone off and going to the set.
One photo, one non-message message, was a little odd but nothing memorable; especially not if it was from Aiba, who occasionally thought that pictures spoke louder than words. But two messages, then five, then eleven…that was different.
Jun was never sure how to respond to them. They were so random.
His shoes in the genkan.
An upside-down view of the monkey bars.
Three marbles in the sun.
The window display of a used book shop.
Aiba's hand was in all of them, milky-green stones around his wrist and always, always pointing at something. Jun didn't understand the significance of the broken shoelace or the odd-shaped blob of wrong-colored paint on the bar or the shadows of the marbles or the Heian period poetry.
He gave Aiba another pair of shoelaces and bought the volume of poetry only to discover he already had it. He gave that to Aiba as well.
"Thanks, MatsuJun," Aiba said, sounding surprised and pleased. Soft-rough voice of somebody who had just woken up.
Jun opened his mouth to tell him…something. That he'd read his own copy and couldn't see what Aiba was trying to say. That he'd bought it because Aiba had given it to him. Instead he cuffed Aiba on the side of the head. "It's your turn to shoot," he said, absurdly fond.
"Ah!" Aiba stuffed the book in his bag and darted out the door calling out, "Sorry! Sorry!" as he ran.
The text-less, subject-free emails kept coming, though they became daily and sometimes twice a day. Jun saved them all, scrutinized them all, and could find nothing. No reason for him to get a picture of the spice rack at Keikarou, a train station pervert sign, an empty cigarette box on top of a trashcan, a steamed-up bathroom mirror with Aiba a vague outline, a smudge of color in the foggy glass.
"Idiot," Jun told him. "What if you'd got your phone all wet again?"
Aiba grinned at him and waved from the window of the company car that was taking him to his next assignment. "See you later, MatsuJun!"
He was sitting on the sofa, waiting for Himitsu to start rolling, when he got another email; it was a picture of two of the chairs on set, empty and waiting. Jun snorted. "Really, what the hell?" he asked quietly.
Sprawled out on the other half of the sofa, Nino lowered his magazine. "What?"
Jun shifted, turned, and showed his phone to Nino. "That." He looked at it again. "I don't get it. It's so weird." Nino's brows beetled and Jun explained, "All of them are so random."
Nino held out his hand and Jun passed him his phone. He watched as Nino clicked through, presumably looking at the old mails saved under Aiba's name. Moving the phone to the side, Nino stared at him. "You don't get it?"
Jun looked back at him. "There's nothing to get," he said. "I've tried and it's just a bunch of whatever he's looking at." He shrugged. "He keeps getting his hand in the shot."
"He keeps—" Nino stopped and the look on his face suggested great disbelief and a certain amount of glee. He rolled over and rummaged in his bag, coming up with a black marking pen. "Pardon me," he said politely as he climbed into Jun's lap.
It was Nino and so Jun let him, watching him with his hands settled at Nino's hips. "I'd ask what you're up to but you're you," he said.
"Clear enough soon," Nino muttered around the marker cap in his teeth.
Jun still yelped as Nino shoved his shirt up and began to write on him. He smacked him in the head with the heel of his hand. "Quit it!" He hit him again. "Hey, knock it off!"
Nino hummed and dodged him, still writing. "Stop it."
The marker was chilly on his skin, right on his chest, and he was wearing wardrobe's clothing. He shoved at Nino. "Nino!"
Nino threw the marker aside and took out his phone.
Jun redoubled his efforts but Nino was wiry and strong and determined. The phone's camera clicked a moment before Nino fell off his lap and onto the floor. "Ow," said Nino. Jun held his shirt away from his skin and watched Nino do something with his phone before holding it up and taking a picture of himself on the floor. From the way he moved, Jun guessed he was sending an email.
A moment later his phone jangled and he checked. There was a picture of Nino on his back on the floor in his inbox. "Junk mail," he grinned as he saved it.
Nino rolled and bit at his ankle.
"Emergency services!" Sho announced, flinging the door open.
Ohno was behind him, making a sound that was probably supposed to represent an ambulance siren.
Together they lifted Nino—at armpits and knees—and waddled to the door, both of them making siren noises punctuated with giggles and overlaid by Nino's demands that they call his family and a Buddhist priest.
Jun buried his face in a pillow and laughed.
"MatsuJun?" Aiba asked quietly.
"The ambulance already came for him," he said, looking up, smiling.
But Aiba looked serious, quiet and settled, like he was thinking about something that demanded careful consideration. "You don't get it, huh?" he asked.
He was about to ask 'get what' when he remembered what had sparked the momentary craziness. He winced down at his chest. He'd let go of his shirt and now he could only hope that the marker had been dry. He lifted it away and peeked. Nothing had transferred but he didn't have the right angle to read Nino's messy scrawl. "What's it say?" he asked.
Aiba sat down on the table in front of the couch and held out his phone. There was a mail from Nino on the screen, a picture of Jun's chest with the word 'stupid' over his heart. "I am going to write 'slut' on his butt," Jun said feelingly.
Expectedly, Aiba laughed. But unexpectedly Aiba also lifted Jun's shirt and put his hand over the word. It was always surprising to Jun how very warm Aiba's hands were. He was so thin sometimes that it was hard to believe he generated that kind of heat. "You don't get it," Aiba repeated, interrupting Jun's half-way thought about Aiba's warmth. "Too subtle, huh?" He put a hand on his phone and Jun let him and watched as Aiba took a picture of his hand on Jun's chest, under the fallen-down shirt, and sent it to him in a mail.
"I still—" he said. He felt frustrated and slow, dimwitted. "You don't make any sense you know."
"Mm, guess not," Aiba said. He was smiling like there was some joke that was on the verge of being funny enough to make him actually grin.
"You keep getting your hand in the shot, too. Is that even on purpose?" Jun wanted to demand answers but he could only manage to sound grumpy, put out. He put his hand on Aiba's under his shirt, meaning to tug it away but stopping just there with his hand on Aiba's own.
In answer, Aiba lifted Jun's shirt again and, holding it out of the way with his elbow, took another picture. "Yep," he said, distracted as he sent a message that made Jun's phone ring a second later.
There were their hands, joined together. His was darker than Aiba's by just a few shades and Aiba's bracelet almost glowing in the resting room light; jade for his health wrapped around the pulse of his life, rushing along cheerfully in his veins. Right over the trembling rush of Jun's own heart.
Why was this so strange? Why couldn't he just understand whatever the hell it was that Aiba was trying to tell him? Why did Nino get it and why couldn't Jun just figure it out already? "Why can't you just—" Jun started.
Aiba leaned forward and kissed him, gentle and sweet. "Somehow, I thought Jun might like the romantic approach," he said against his mouth a moment later. "So whenever I thought of you and wanted to be with you, I took a picture of my hand reaching for yours."
Jun stared at him, nonplussed. "So the other stuff really was just random?"
It made Aiba laugh. "You're totally not the romantic type at all," he said teasingly.
Jun felt that was unfair, given the way his heart was hammering under Aiba's hand and the way he couldn't catch his breath from a kiss so tiny he could have probably given it to Ohno and not have Nino so much as twitch at him. "Shut up."
Grinning outright now, Aiba scrolled through his phone. "The frangipani reminded me of Hawaii and you. And the spice rack was the first time you came to the restaurant and when I went back to help bring out the food my dad said he was glad I had friends like you and there's the poetry from the book on your shelf when I helped you move and my shoes alone when I wanted yours there too."
He blushed. He could feel the flush and the heat sweep into his face and he looked away, completely unable to meet Aiba's eyes anymore. "Oh."
Aiba laughed. "I'm totally the more romantic one between the two of us." He paused and Jun got his blush controlled enough to look at him. Aiba's hand over his heart flexed. "I really like you, Jun. I should have just said but—"
"They're ready for us on set," Ohno said, stopping in the open door. He had Nino's knees over his shoulders. Sho was still holding Nino at the armpits. Jun assumed it was Nino. They'd covered him with a sheet and he wasn't moving. "The AD gave us the count," Sho added.
"I can't see," said Nino. "Did they do it?"
"Totally did!" Aiba confirmed cheerfully. Jun covered his face with his hand until he heard the heavy shuffle of Ohno and Sho and their burden trundling away. He peeked through his fingers to see Aiba waiting at the door for him. "C'mon, otherwise we'll make them wait."
Jun stood and reached for his hand and stopped. "I—Masaki, me too," he said. He couldn't look at him but he couldn't look away either. Instead he watched as Aiba smiled and took his hand. "Me too."
"Understood," Aiba said softly. He stepped close and Jun lifted his head a fraction and kissed him back, just a touch of lips, a press, a promise.
It was a long night of filming and Jun couldn't really recall saying goodbye to Aiba or the others as he'd been bundled out the door and into the car that would take him home. He reached to open the door and stopped. He took a picture of his hand at the doorknob of his apartment and emailed it to Aiba.
No subject and no text but he knew Aiba could read it anyhow.
tangiblewhimsy is on a quest for more Aiba/Jun fic. And I said to myself 'who doesn't want more Aiba/Jun fic?!' and wrote something.It's a random something with a random title from a song stuck in my head.
Getting to like
Jun didn't remember the name of the flower; he only knew it grew all over Hawaii and smelled like coconut and the scented vinyl skin of baby dolls—fruity sweet and plastic-y. He recognized Aiba's hand holding it, however; the round jade beads of his bracelet making his wrist look delicate.
There was no text with the picture, no subject on the email. Just Aiba's e-mail address and Jun's and the picture.
"What the hell?" Jun muttered, staring at it. Shutting his phone, he didn't reply.
A moment later he opened it again and made the photo his new background before turning his phone off and going to the set.
One photo, one non-message message, was a little odd but nothing memorable; especially not if it was from Aiba, who occasionally thought that pictures spoke louder than words. But two messages, then five, then eleven…that was different.
Jun was never sure how to respond to them. They were so random.
His shoes in the genkan.
An upside-down view of the monkey bars.
Three marbles in the sun.
The window display of a used book shop.
Aiba's hand was in all of them, milky-green stones around his wrist and always, always pointing at something. Jun didn't understand the significance of the broken shoelace or the odd-shaped blob of wrong-colored paint on the bar or the shadows of the marbles or the Heian period poetry.
He gave Aiba another pair of shoelaces and bought the volume of poetry only to discover he already had it. He gave that to Aiba as well.
"Thanks, MatsuJun," Aiba said, sounding surprised and pleased. Soft-rough voice of somebody who had just woken up.
Jun opened his mouth to tell him…something. That he'd read his own copy and couldn't see what Aiba was trying to say. That he'd bought it because Aiba had given it to him. Instead he cuffed Aiba on the side of the head. "It's your turn to shoot," he said, absurdly fond.
"Ah!" Aiba stuffed the book in his bag and darted out the door calling out, "Sorry! Sorry!" as he ran.
The text-less, subject-free emails kept coming, though they became daily and sometimes twice a day. Jun saved them all, scrutinized them all, and could find nothing. No reason for him to get a picture of the spice rack at Keikarou, a train station pervert sign, an empty cigarette box on top of a trashcan, a steamed-up bathroom mirror with Aiba a vague outline, a smudge of color in the foggy glass.
"Idiot," Jun told him. "What if you'd got your phone all wet again?"
Aiba grinned at him and waved from the window of the company car that was taking him to his next assignment. "See you later, MatsuJun!"
He was sitting on the sofa, waiting for Himitsu to start rolling, when he got another email; it was a picture of two of the chairs on set, empty and waiting. Jun snorted. "Really, what the hell?" he asked quietly.
Sprawled out on the other half of the sofa, Nino lowered his magazine. "What?"
Jun shifted, turned, and showed his phone to Nino. "That." He looked at it again. "I don't get it. It's so weird." Nino's brows beetled and Jun explained, "All of them are so random."
Nino held out his hand and Jun passed him his phone. He watched as Nino clicked through, presumably looking at the old mails saved under Aiba's name. Moving the phone to the side, Nino stared at him. "You don't get it?"
Jun looked back at him. "There's nothing to get," he said. "I've tried and it's just a bunch of whatever he's looking at." He shrugged. "He keeps getting his hand in the shot."
"He keeps—" Nino stopped and the look on his face suggested great disbelief and a certain amount of glee. He rolled over and rummaged in his bag, coming up with a black marking pen. "Pardon me," he said politely as he climbed into Jun's lap.
It was Nino and so Jun let him, watching him with his hands settled at Nino's hips. "I'd ask what you're up to but you're you," he said.
"Clear enough soon," Nino muttered around the marker cap in his teeth.
Jun still yelped as Nino shoved his shirt up and began to write on him. He smacked him in the head with the heel of his hand. "Quit it!" He hit him again. "Hey, knock it off!"
Nino hummed and dodged him, still writing. "Stop it."
The marker was chilly on his skin, right on his chest, and he was wearing wardrobe's clothing. He shoved at Nino. "Nino!"
Nino threw the marker aside and took out his phone.
Jun redoubled his efforts but Nino was wiry and strong and determined. The phone's camera clicked a moment before Nino fell off his lap and onto the floor. "Ow," said Nino. Jun held his shirt away from his skin and watched Nino do something with his phone before holding it up and taking a picture of himself on the floor. From the way he moved, Jun guessed he was sending an email.
A moment later his phone jangled and he checked. There was a picture of Nino on his back on the floor in his inbox. "Junk mail," he grinned as he saved it.
Nino rolled and bit at his ankle.
"Emergency services!" Sho announced, flinging the door open.
Ohno was behind him, making a sound that was probably supposed to represent an ambulance siren.
Together they lifted Nino—at armpits and knees—and waddled to the door, both of them making siren noises punctuated with giggles and overlaid by Nino's demands that they call his family and a Buddhist priest.
Jun buried his face in a pillow and laughed.
"MatsuJun?" Aiba asked quietly.
"The ambulance already came for him," he said, looking up, smiling.
But Aiba looked serious, quiet and settled, like he was thinking about something that demanded careful consideration. "You don't get it, huh?" he asked.
He was about to ask 'get what' when he remembered what had sparked the momentary craziness. He winced down at his chest. He'd let go of his shirt and now he could only hope that the marker had been dry. He lifted it away and peeked. Nothing had transferred but he didn't have the right angle to read Nino's messy scrawl. "What's it say?" he asked.
Aiba sat down on the table in front of the couch and held out his phone. There was a mail from Nino on the screen, a picture of Jun's chest with the word 'stupid' over his heart. "I am going to write 'slut' on his butt," Jun said feelingly.
Expectedly, Aiba laughed. But unexpectedly Aiba also lifted Jun's shirt and put his hand over the word. It was always surprising to Jun how very warm Aiba's hands were. He was so thin sometimes that it was hard to believe he generated that kind of heat. "You don't get it," Aiba repeated, interrupting Jun's half-way thought about Aiba's warmth. "Too subtle, huh?" He put a hand on his phone and Jun let him and watched as Aiba took a picture of his hand on Jun's chest, under the fallen-down shirt, and sent it to him in a mail.
"I still—" he said. He felt frustrated and slow, dimwitted. "You don't make any sense you know."
"Mm, guess not," Aiba said. He was smiling like there was some joke that was on the verge of being funny enough to make him actually grin.
"You keep getting your hand in the shot, too. Is that even on purpose?" Jun wanted to demand answers but he could only manage to sound grumpy, put out. He put his hand on Aiba's under his shirt, meaning to tug it away but stopping just there with his hand on Aiba's own.
In answer, Aiba lifted Jun's shirt again and, holding it out of the way with his elbow, took another picture. "Yep," he said, distracted as he sent a message that made Jun's phone ring a second later.
There were their hands, joined together. His was darker than Aiba's by just a few shades and Aiba's bracelet almost glowing in the resting room light; jade for his health wrapped around the pulse of his life, rushing along cheerfully in his veins. Right over the trembling rush of Jun's own heart.
Why was this so strange? Why couldn't he just understand whatever the hell it was that Aiba was trying to tell him? Why did Nino get it and why couldn't Jun just figure it out already? "Why can't you just—" Jun started.
Aiba leaned forward and kissed him, gentle and sweet. "Somehow, I thought Jun might like the romantic approach," he said against his mouth a moment later. "So whenever I thought of you and wanted to be with you, I took a picture of my hand reaching for yours."
Jun stared at him, nonplussed. "So the other stuff really was just random?"
It made Aiba laugh. "You're totally not the romantic type at all," he said teasingly.
Jun felt that was unfair, given the way his heart was hammering under Aiba's hand and the way he couldn't catch his breath from a kiss so tiny he could have probably given it to Ohno and not have Nino so much as twitch at him. "Shut up."
Grinning outright now, Aiba scrolled through his phone. "The frangipani reminded me of Hawaii and you. And the spice rack was the first time you came to the restaurant and when I went back to help bring out the food my dad said he was glad I had friends like you and there's the poetry from the book on your shelf when I helped you move and my shoes alone when I wanted yours there too."
He blushed. He could feel the flush and the heat sweep into his face and he looked away, completely unable to meet Aiba's eyes anymore. "Oh."
Aiba laughed. "I'm totally the more romantic one between the two of us." He paused and Jun got his blush controlled enough to look at him. Aiba's hand over his heart flexed. "I really like you, Jun. I should have just said but—"
"They're ready for us on set," Ohno said, stopping in the open door. He had Nino's knees over his shoulders. Sho was still holding Nino at the armpits. Jun assumed it was Nino. They'd covered him with a sheet and he wasn't moving. "The AD gave us the count," Sho added.
"I can't see," said Nino. "Did they do it?"
"Totally did!" Aiba confirmed cheerfully. Jun covered his face with his hand until he heard the heavy shuffle of Ohno and Sho and their burden trundling away. He peeked through his fingers to see Aiba waiting at the door for him. "C'mon, otherwise we'll make them wait."
Jun stood and reached for his hand and stopped. "I—Masaki, me too," he said. He couldn't look at him but he couldn't look away either. Instead he watched as Aiba smiled and took his hand. "Me too."
"Understood," Aiba said softly. He stepped close and Jun lifted his head a fraction and kissed him back, just a touch of lips, a press, a promise.
It was a long night of filming and Jun couldn't really recall saying goodbye to Aiba or the others as he'd been bundled out the door and into the car that would take him home. He reached to open the door and stopped. He took a picture of his hand at the doorknob of his apartment and emailed it to Aiba.
No subject and no text but he knew Aiba could read it anyhow.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 04:28 am (UTC)I love that Aiba is going through the effort because he knows Jun is pretty much a girl about these things. Only Jun isn't being a girl, he's being a dumb boy who doesn't get it. WAY TO COMPLETELY FAIL AT PICKING UP ON THE SIGNS, JUN.
Nino busting in and telling Aiba that he wasn't being ignored, Jun's just dumb was also great. And Ohno the ambulance man. LMAO. I love it ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 05:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 12:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 03:00 pm (UTC)Also, Sho/Ohno/Nino in the background, excuse me while I go cry of laughter.
♥ ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 03:41 pm (UTC)and yay for more aiba/jun because the world needs more!
thank you so much for this! thanks for writing and sharing! i love your fics, it never fails to make me so happy! :) and i know sometimes i fail to leave a comment, do know that someone always is thankful for you and your writing!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 05:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-13 05:58 pm (UTC)It's just so sweet and Jun is so confused but Aiba is patient but of course Nino isn't. And that was wonderful.
Thank you for making my day warmer at least in spirit. ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-14 05:34 am (UTC)there's been a lack of good fics lately and i'm glad that i stumbled on this one..
thanks for sharing! XD
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-14 05:23 pm (UTC)Super cute. I love how Aiba's mind works and how he's trying and how OF COURSE. NINO GETS IT!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-15 10:10 am (UTC)so cute♥ nino was adorable too♥
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-15 03:16 pm (UTC)And Nino with the marker, Nino and the ambulance and dead!Nino covered with the sheet. Brilliant
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-17 08:59 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing ^^.