Arashi Drabbles

[lilly0]

Title: Arashi Drabbles
Pairing/Group: one drabble for each pairing (Sakuraiba, Sakumiya, Juntoshi, Matsumiya, Sakumoto, Ohba, Ohmiya, Aimiya, Yama, Junba)
Rating: PG-13
Beta: gurajiorasu
Genre: various
Summary: Arashi Drabbles. For each pairing a differnt drabble.



Sakuraiba
When Sho opens the newspaper every Sunday morning, he separates the sports, gossip, and culture part from it and hands it to Aiba. Sometimes he watches how the other sticks his nose into some pointless article, about how a puppy was saved, or how this or that girl from AKB48 had a new hair style.

He himself enjoys the economic and politics part more. And he likes to skim through magazines with new wooden furniture and traditional bathrooms.

“We are so cliché,” he mumbles sometimes.

“What’s wrong about being cliché?” Aiba wonders, before he reaches his hands out. “Now give me the part with the cooking recipes and shut up. I’ve seen that you are hiding them.”

“Fine,” Sho gives in like he always does when it’s Aiba.

Every Sunday morning is the same.

Just sometimes it’s different. It started so slowly that Sho didn’t even notice it at first and he doesn’t even know who started it.

“Let’s change newspapers.”

No matter how cliché they are, here and there it happens that Sho sticks his nose into an article about how this or that girl from AKB48 changed her hair style. And Aiba catches up on politics and economics and skims through huge magazines with traditional bathrooms.




Sakumiya
The brush of Nino’s orange nail polish tickles a bit. “You’ll only put some color on my toenails , right? Not on my whole feet. I mean it, Nino!” Sho asks for the tenth time and swears for the hundredth time to never bet against Nino again. He always loses.

“Of course,” Nino mumbles. His eyes look down at Sho’s feet in highest concentration. Sho sighs. Then- “Oops .”

“What do you mean with oops?” he asks sharply.

Nino grins impishly and takes the pink color now, “Nothing.”

No bets. Ever . Again.



Juntoshi
There is something about Ohno’s arms that makes him forget everything. He can be silent then, tired, sad, and even broken. He can laugh or cry. He can be imperfect and angry. No façade anymore, no mask he needs to wear. He can just be real then. He can be Jun.

And no matter how real he is, Ohno won’t turn away.

“You are trying too hard, Jun. Sometimes,” Ohno mumbles against his shoulder softly sometimes, “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Hm,” Jun hums, his fingers brushing through Ohno’s hair softly, “Look who is talking.”

He can feel how Ohno’s lips turn into a smile against his neck. He loves that. He can spend hours like this, only lying on the bed, on the sofa, even on the floor, he doesn’t mind as long as he can feel Ohno’s warm arms. They are stronger than they look like.

“We need to get up,” Jun says almost silently, “It’s 7PM. Too early to fall asleep.” They haven’t eaten anything , they haven’t cleaned up, they haven’t-

“Not yet,” Ohno says casually and tightens his grip around Jun.

Yes. Jun thinks when he kisses Ohno’s temples softly. Not yet.



Matsumiya
Jun is the type of guy who would always cook too much, order too much, never finish his meal, and never eat everything he orders. “My eyes are hungrier than I am,” he would often say, because he feels slightly pissed at himself whenever he isn’t able to eat everything from his plate.

Nino on the other hand never orders enough, never cooks enough. He just doesn’t have an eye for that. Others make jokes about it, saying that he is just too stingy and plans on eating from someone else’s leftovers anyway. But truth is, it’s not intended. Just like Jun orders too much, he just doesn’t get enough. Whenever Jun is in his typical sarcastic mood, he would make fun of that, saying: “Like with everything in life.” A dirty grin on his face. “You never get enough.”

They have ordered burgers and fries today. Nino has ordered a tiny burger, which he finished in five minutes, still feeling hungry. While Jun has only eaten half of his huge Sakura double deluxe Burger – no kidding, it has the bread shaped in flower form and the sauce has a very distinctive rose color. The ham is wasabi flavored which adds a note of green. He hasn’t even touched his fries. “You can have the burger, if you want,” Jun says before he snuggles against the pillow, closing his eyes. “But leave my fries. I like to eat them cold.”

Jun’s eyelashes are so long, Nino thinks, when he watches his friend falling asleep. He chuckles impishly when he secretly moves his hand towards Jun’s fries and steals some of them. Then he snuggles against Jun’s back, nose buried in his neck. Fries don’t taste well when they are cold anyways, he thinks. Jun should probably thank him.



Sakumoto:
If Jun has to describe Sho with one word, he would say stuck-up, arrogant idiot who puts his foot in it. Okay, screw it, nine words! Or maybe ten if he adds heartless too, eleven if he throws manipulative in it too. One does not describe the emotional wreck called Sakurai Sho with only one freaking word.

He has probably never known a man that pissed him off so much like Sakurai Sho-san does. Never met someone that’s been able to do all these things to him, awaken all these feelings and turned him into this easily irritated and annoyed bundle of nervousness. He wonders if he does the same things to Sho, awaken the same misery in him. But it’s basically impossible.

Sho can make him snap by only saying a few words. Sometimes he wonders if he does that with intent, but when he looks at Sho’s eyes later, every time, when he has cooled down from his sudden anger and sees how Sho feels sorry, he knows he is just like that.

“I hate you,” he says and knows at the same time that he both means and doesn’t mean it.

“I know,” Sho says and Jun can hear how footsteps are approaching him. He doesn’t turn around though, doesn’t even want to look at Sho and see the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry for hurting you all the time,” Sho adds.

He sounds wary, Jun thinks. When Sho wraps his arms around his waist from behind, leans his head against his shoulder, and places a kiss on the back of his neck, his freaking sensitive spot, he can feel how his resolve is basically falling apart. Scattering into thousand little pieces.

He wonders how Sho is able to do that. Make him burst in anger or cry bitter tears. And the next moment he would suddenly lie in his arms, followed by hours of angry or sweet – depends on the situation – make-up sex.

“Fuck you,” Jun mumbles tiredly.

“Hm~” Sho muses and his fingers are suddenly wandering under Jun’s shirt. Dangerous. “Any time, if you want to,” his voice is warm all of a sudden, a heavy contrast to the cold words he has said just 2 hours before.

So Jun does what he does every time; agree to it . It’s when he feels Sho’s hot breath against his neck, his fingers scratching his back that he wonders if this is really enough. But apparently right now it is.



Ohba
Sometimes he takes too long, Aiba thinks. Way too long. He wonders and thinks, analyses and wavers, searches the right words to tell Ohno. Tell him everything. But he just can’t find the right words.

They spend another evening in silence, only watching a movie or having dinner. And another evening. And yet another. Until these evenings get so much that Aiba can’t count them anymore.

“Come in,” Aiba says when he hears a knock at his door. It’s Thursday, 9PM, it’s the time Ohno drops by every week. Also today. The latter takes off his shoes, not really neatly though but Aiba doesn’t mind. Then he pads in the kitchen. “Are you cooking ?” Ohno says randomly.

“Yes.”

It’s yet another plan that Aiba had . Like the many many plans and tricks he tried to think of during the last Thursdays. None of them worked. He just doesn’t find the right words . It’s the same old conversation in his head every time.

Oh-chan, I-

No, Oh-chan sounds weird. Like they are children.

Riida, I-

A bit better, but then it might sound like he is searching for a dominant BDSM partner. A leader. Aiba shivers.

Satoshi, I-

Satoshi? First name, without anything else? He shakes his head inwardly.

Sa-chan…
Kindergarten so much?

Maybe he should think of a nickname. A codename. Something that’s not too childish, but more serious, something that catches all of Ohno’s characteristics at once. Something-

“Masaki-kun,” Ohno’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “Your pasta is burning,” he says calmly.

Burning… pasta. SCREW IT! Aiba is back to reality immediately, trying to prevent any more damage, but still, his perfect Italian pasta is ruined. Screw it, he thinks, and says it out loud too, “Screw it.”

Ohno merely chuckles. He angles for one of the burnt noodles and eats them. Then he moves his hand towards Aiba’s cheek, turns his face a bit so that Aiba just has to look at him. “I think-“ Ohno starts while Aiba tries not to get drowned in his beautiful eyes. “- we’ve wasted enough times.”

Aiba’s stomach makes a little jump in happiness. The smell of burnt pasta still lingers in the air, but Ohno’s kiss tastes sweet, Aiba thinks.



Ohmiya
Life is sometimes like the ocean, Nino thinks, as he sits down at the end of a few wooden planks that lead into the ocean. He lets his feet dangle, his toes touching the cold water. Life can be calm and soothing like the ocean on a warm summer day, when there are no clouds to be seen, no wind to be felt. It can be refreshing when the wind breezes, boring when there is not even a little fish moving. It can also be too harsh sometimes when a storm catches the waves, pulling them high up into the air and crushing them against the rocks.

Today the ocean looks calm though, but his life feels more like he was being crushed against some rocks.

He doesn’t move when he hears almost silent footsteps approaching him, he also doesn’t move when someone sits down right behind him, hugging him from behind, while two well-known legs are suddenly joining his, dangling slightly.

“Don’t you want to go back to the hotel?” Ohno asks calmly. His voice is hoarse. It’s always like this when he feels down, a certain shade of sadness in it.

“No,” Nino mumbles but leans back against Ohno nevertheless.

“It’s going to be alright,” Ohno tells him, “We’ll settle our problems.”

“You always say that. But do you believe in your words?” Nino answers. There are goosebumps on his arms now. It’s getting chilly outside. Ohno doesn’t answer but rubs over his arms tentatively. It feels familiar. Almost painfully familiar. Nino lets Ohno’s hand move over his arms, lets him hug him and lets him brush over his cheek with his nose. He wonders how many more times he will be sitting at this wooden planks that lead to the rough ocean symbolizing his love. He hopes it will get less.


Aimiya
Aiba wants to be angry; angry at Nino for using his toothbrush once again, for not cleaning up the bathroom, for teasing Aiba for his new hairstyle. But especially for playing 6 hours of Final Fantasy instead of having sex. Aiba has tried to seduce him, he tried really hard. “You are standing in front of my TV,” Nino has said in matter-of-fact voice, “I can’t see anything.”

For the next hour he sulks but Nino is battling a boss battle so he doesn’t really notice. When he is – finally – finished, Nino smiles proudly. “I got an S!” he explains.

“Awesome,” Aiba mumbles grumpily and turns over, looking at the back of the sofa. He can hear how Nino robs a bit closer, his finger poking his neck. Then there is a kiss and wet tongue tickling his earlobe. Damn it. He needs to try harder… harder… He is pretty pissed after all.

“What did you want to say earlier?” Nino asks. “Oh, and yes, I want you to strip now.”

If Aiba wasn’t trying so hard to remain angry, he would probably laugh now. The question he wanted to ask to Nino is already two hours old. And his offer to strip one hour. This videogame-addicted idiot is impossible. He giggles. Damn it! Behind him he can almost feel how Nino smiles.



Yama
Most of the time it goes how Sho likes it to go. He is working hard, he deserves it to go the way he likes. He knows he is probably too tense sometimes, his bandmates already told him. Too overworked, but he likes what he does. It just so happens that sometimes he can’t take it when someone stays in his way, steps on his foot or even looks at him, but he keeps his cool. He is Sakurai f*cking Sho after all.

“You were more fun when you weren’t that much of a control freak,” Ohno says and turns a page in his shopping catalogue. He really couldn’t sound any more casual, “When you were nicer and more of a dork. And didn’t have this tense smile.”

Sho stares at him for a while. For a long while to be specific. He can almost feel how the world around him starts spinning. “What-” he finally manages to rasp out,“- do you mean?”

“Well, the time when you were still having fun with Aiba-chan, making stupid jokes with Nino, being attentive towards Jun, and more understanding towards me. The Sho-kun I fell in love with.” He looks up a bit, his hand moving to his neck, rubbing it thoughtfully. He looks at Sho in interest. “Who are you now, Sho-kun? What do you want me to do? Who do you want me to be?”

“I’m still me,” Sho says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, “And I want you to remain you.”

“The old Sho would have been pretty pissed at what I said-“ Ohno smiles warily. He stands up now and moves towards Sho carefully. “He would have probably yelled at me and picked a fight. We could have made up later.”

Probably, yes.

“I am who I am, Satoshi-kun. I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”

“That’s not what I wanted to say,” Ohno looks at him for a long while, his lips tugging slightly, like he is the one in pain. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Of course I love you-“ he finally says. His hands are touching Sho’s shoulders a bit. “It came out the wrong way. I’m just-“

“It’s okay,” Sho interrupts while actually, it is not.

“I love you,” Ohno repeats. “I’m not going to leave.”

Sho knows that Ohno means it. He isn’t saying such things without full-heartedly believing them. Sho knows exactly where Ohno is coming from, what he intends to say. The biggest problem is that Sho doesn’t like himself much at the moment. It’s worse than anything else. He wants to go back to the person he was once, but he wonders if it’s possible. He wonders if he can do that. He wonders how long it’s going to take for Ohno to be so fed up that he just leaves and-

“I won’t leave,” Ohno says like he has read his thoughts, “I won’t”.




Junba
Aiba draws a heart into the warm sand of the beach. A huge heart with a smiling face and some hair on top of it. When he sees how Jun comes, two coconuts in his hands, he swiftly wipes the heart away.

Jun likes to take off his shoes and place them neatly right next to his wardrobe. The shoes he doesn’t need, he puts into the cupboard. He likes to fold his clothes or to immediately put them into the laundry basket to wash them within the next week. When he works in his kitchen and cooks, he washes the dirty plates meanwhile, so that once he eats he has hardly anything else to wash. He eats neatly and looks styled and beautiful even when he is sleeping. He likes to go surfing and his waist is tinier than any woman’s. When he smiles the world starts spinning around Aiba. His arms are strong, reliable and he holds Aiba as long and as often as Aiba likes to be held , he makes love with him the way Aiba loves it and when he loves it.

The gap between them is so huge that Aiba doesn’t understand how Jun can even survive one day with him at his side.

“I’ve spent half an hour getting that drink,” Jun tells him lazily while he lets some sand pour into Aiba’s bellybutton. “So drink it before it gets too warm.”

Aiba smiles slightly at that. That typical for his Jun. “Kiss me?” he asks.

“Hm~” Jun smiles warmly. He straddles Aiba’s hips playfully, grabbing his shoulders and pressing him back into the sand. His eyes are shining, Aiba thinks, so beautiful, so warm. He likes it when Jun looks at him like that before his eyes change into a more wanting look when he bends forward and kisses him.

Jun’s hair is still wet from the water, little cold waterdrops dripping down on Aiba’s, his lips taste salty. “How safe are we here?” Aiba wants to know.

“Very safe,” Jun chuckles. “The whole island is private. I guess not even the CIA can hunt us down here.”

“Awesome,” Aiba grins, before he wraps his arms around Jun and turns them over. Now it’s Jun who is lying on his back with Aiba hovering above him. A position he very much likes because Jun looks so damn hot and beautiful.

Sometimes he wonders what Jun sees in him and why he doesn’t bother (much, because sometimes he does complain) about the things that make them oh-so-different. But most of the time he just needs to look into Jun’s eyes to understand. It’s okay.