"You're sixteen years too late, Antorell. Argelfraster!"

Arashi- "Sympathy for the Devil", Sho/Jun

2009-12-16T05:48:16Z

Title: Sympathy for the Devil
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun, Nino
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sexy times
Summary: This was supposed to be comment-fic for the sakumoto drabble-a-thon. Now it's longer than my Yuletide submission. Great. Thanks to astrangerenters for prompting 'post-apocalyptic/resistance/fighting the good fight', and to Supernatural 5x04 for a ton of inspiration.

"We lost another one," Sho said, stepping down from the jeep that looked like it had seen far better days, splattered with mud and grime and a myriad of substances that Jun didn't want to identify. "Jin. Sniper rifle."

"Demon?" Jun asked.

Sho just shrugged and swung his own gun over his shoulder. "Couldn't see his eyes to tell. Maybe. Maybe not. Don't think it fucking matters, anymore."

It probably didn't; there were just as many humans who had joined up with Lucifer as there were demons, and if they were using rifles- well, maybe it didn't mean anything at all. Maybe nothing did, in the end, no matter how hard they fought and struggled.

Every mission came back with one more empty seat. How long before the whole garrison was gone?

Jun reached for the bag lying across the back leather, filled with holy water and crosses and packed rock salt made for the shotgun Sho was toting. Sho didn't give him another glance, just walked into the cement fall-out shelter with his boots tracking in bits that might have been a person at one point.

Jun didn't ask how long they'd been exposed to the radiation while out.

To be honest, he didn't think they'd live long enough for it to make a difference anyway.

--

The group was huddled around the space heater later that night. Jun sorely missed the days when they could have a fire, but living underground in a protective bunker nixed having open flames, and the space heater ran on batteries that could be picked up during store raids- if there were any left.

It was getting harder and harder to find supplies. They were going to have to move soon, or risk going out into the radiation longer. The more they exposed themselves, the greater the health risks- and the easier targets they made for the damn demons walking above ground.

"We have to go east," Sho said, pointing to the map on the wall with the dart he was holding.

"Too dangerous," Nino argued. "Fuckin' hellmouth that direction, and you know it."

"Got a better idea?" Sho snapped. His nerves were on edge; all of theirs were. Jun hadn't relaxed in the better part of a year, never felt the uncoiling of his shoulder muscles. At any time, they could get ambushed- infiltrated. Someone could turncoat, or turn demon, and they were all done for. Their sad, sorry little resistance was barely a match for the forces working against them, and they were barely holding on.

Nino just shook his head, arms folded over his chest. "No. But it's a suicide run."

Sho didn't say anything to that, and Jun swallowed hard. Every time Sho left for a raid, he lost the ability to breathe until the man came back, dirty and grimy and looking more and more weary with every life snuffed out under his watch.

Jun couldn't say anything. He was stupid to say something- Sho was their leader, the glue holding the whole operation together, and it didn't matter that Jun's world revolved around him, or that Sho was his first thought when he woke in the morning. Staying alive was more important.

Staying alive was everything.

"Maybe," Sho said, revealing everything and nothing at the same time. "Maybe."

--

Jun was in charge of the food. He was one of the only guys who could make something edible using appliances more advanced than the hot plate, and so he'd been relegated to kitchen duty early on. He didn't mind. Even using pre-packaged goods and freeze-dried meals, cooking gave him something to think of besides the fact that they were all being hunted down, one by one, for refusing to give in to the devil himself.

But they were running low. They were running low on the cans, the bits he knew had lasted the longest and been the lowest fall-back. They weren't going to survive in the bunker much longer unless something changed.

Jun knew nothing would.

Things weren't that simple. Not anymore.

He boiled some water while Nino snacked on re-hydrated carrots, sitting at the long table that used to be too small for all of them living in the bunker- now, they had empty seats. Jun tried not to look at the chairs folded up against the wall, reminders of how many they'd lost.

"These are terrible," Nino commented, while chewing on one.

"Of course they are," Jun replied. He stared at the water, watching the bubbles rise to the surface and slide around, only to pop. Just like them.

Just like all of them.

There were footsteps near the door, and Sho entered, looking haggard. "What's the emergency?"

"We're almost out," Jun told him flatly. He gestured towards the pantry door. Sho opened it, looked around, and then shut it, and there was no expression Jun could read on his face. He didn't say anything for a long while, and Nino's crunching was the only sound in the room. Then he gave Jun a curt nod.

"Okay," was all he said.

When he left, Jun looked at Nino in question. "What the hell? What are we going to do about it? We'll starve."

"Dunno," Nino said unhelpfully. He eyed Jun with a glint that Jun didn't care for. "When are you going to tell him that you want his body?"

"When are you going to learn to mind your own business?" Jun ground out, turning back to the pot of boiling liquid.

Another crunch, louder than the others had been. "Pretty sure I'll be dead before that happens."

Jun just snapped back something like yeah, good riddance and Nino snickered and Jun tried not to think about the dwindling supply of cans on the other side of the door.

--

There was another raid the next day. Sho took six bodies, including Nino.

At nightfall, three came back in the Jeep. Jun couldn't even bother to pretend like he wasn't relieved to see Nino step back out, half his clothing splattered with the drying crimson of blood, fingers shaking somewhat. Sho's face was set, and he didn't say anything, just stalked past Jun into the bunker without a word.

"What happened?" Jun asked, unloading the equipment they'd managed to save and bring back with them.

"Demons," Nino said. He sounded very tired. "Whole hive of them."

Jun's heart was in his stomach. "Ryo, Pi, Mabo- all of them?"

"But we got it," Nino said, and he was leaning in suddenly, eyes bright with something. He looked a little crazy, slightly maniacal- and Jun knew he probably was, still running off of adrenaline and terror, mingling together to forge speed and strength used for self-preservation. "We know where the Devil's going to be. We got the location."

It should have been good news, because with a place, they could go after him. They had equipment- knives dipped in holy water, flamethrowers. Salt for a devil's trap and Latin to send him back underground.

But Jun's stomach tightened. They wouldn't all make it through. In fact, there was a good chance that none of them would, and all of that was resting firmly on Sho's sloping shoulders.

"Can you get this on your own?" Jun mumbled. Nino's gaze on the side of Jun's face was hard, visible from the corner of Jun's eye, but the other man nodded.

"Go," Nino said, and turned back to the Jeep. "Go and get on with it, already. Probably gonna die- might as well tell him."

--

Sho had already disappeared into his room, and Jun spent five minutes standing outside the door trying to rehearse what to say. Hi, we're going to kill the Devil tomorrow, and hey, I love you sounded terrible, and incredibly cheesy, but I've wanted you since I saw you sounded like an awful pick-up line that would never work.

In the end, Jun just rapped his knuckles against the door, figuring he'd wing it as best he could without sounding like a desperate. It didn't matter that he was.

He wasn't prepared for Sho's weary voice to say "come in", or for the darkness that was enveloping the room when he finally stepped inside.

"I-" Jun started, and then stopped. Sho was sitting on a lawn chair in the middle of the room, staring at his boots. It looked as if he had just walked straight in, collapsed, and then not moved- hadn't even bothered to turn on the lanterns save the far one in the corner, that barely illuminated the outlines of the objects within. "Sho?"

"It's all my fault," came the whisper.

Jun blinked, eyes adjusting to the inky shadows. "What?"

"Everyone- all their deaths. They're all my fault," Sho rasped, sounding choked. "Every single one of them; their blood is on my hands. I'm a shitty leader. A shitty fucking leader."

"No," Jun said, and crossed the room in an instant, letting the door slide shut once his fingers were free from it. "No, that's not true."

Sho laughed, and the sound was hollow. "Isn't it? People just keep dying, and I'm the one letting them bleed."

Jun stood in front of him, a few safe hand spans away. He could barely hear his own thoughts above the screaming against his ears- Sho was barely holding on to the last tattered remains of his control, of his will, and Jun couldn't let him fall. It physically hurt to see the man like this, so lost and empty.

"That's not true," Jun said, before he realized he was even speaking. "You are the only reason we've stayed alive this long in the first place. Look what we are up against! Do you think it's going to be easy? It was never going to be easy, and it was always a fool's chance, but we did it anyway, don't you see that?"

"Did we?" Sho asked. He turned his eyes up to look at Jun. "Did we really?"

Jun shook his head, anger rising hot and burning to the back of his throat. "Maybe if you'd let me go with you once in awhile, I could help, you ever think of that? You keep me here in the damn kitchens like a fucking nursemaid, when I could be out there helping you!"

He wasn't prepared for Sho to start laughing. The sound was awful; it twisted Jun's stomach into knots.

"Don't you think I can do it?" Jun whispered, staring down at Sho's shaking sides. There was nothing happy about the movements, nothing good in the silent trembling. "Do you think I'm useless?"

"I can't take you with me," Sho said, and suddenly, behind the fingers splayed across his face like a shield, Jun could see lantern light reflecting off trails of wetness. "Oh, god, I can't take you with me. If you died- oh fuck, that would be it. I'd just give up."

Jun stared at him for a long moment, throat constricting. "What?"

Maybe Sho was laughing, maybe he was crying- it was probably both, all stress and nerves and bone-weary exhaustion they were all unable to escape from.

"Go ahead," Sho wheezed, "go ahead and laugh at me. But I can't let you die. I can't fucking let you die."

And Jun lunged, wrenching Sho's hands away from his face to find his mouth. He could taste the salty tears that had caught in the corners of Sho's lips, taste them as he moved desperately against them. For a long moment that felt so, so much longer than it really was, Sho didn't even move; he was shell-shocked, mouth slack, slightly parted. Jun could still feel the trembles in the muscles beneath him.

All the things Jun had been trying to say- he couldn't find a single one of them. The words all died on his tongue, sweeping past Sho's bottom lip, and then Sho groaned, low in his throat. His hands went to Jun's hips, gripping them hard, hard enough to leave purple splotches in the morning. He moved like a man claiming his territory, his stake- his life, maybe.

"Jun," Sho whispered, against Jun's lips so the sound was muffled. "Jun, Jun-"

Just hearing him repeated his own name like a mantra sent a pant of hot arousal to Jun's groin. He was straddling Sho's thighs before he knew it, grinding against him like a man possessed, trying to touch as much of him as he possibly could, steal as much of Sho's breath as possible.

"It was you," Jun gasped against Sho's jaw, when Sho's hands found their way inside his slacks. "It was always you."

And Sho just kept chanting Jun, Jun, Jun even as he was hauling Jun up to his feet and over to the rickety cot against the wall, matching Jun's heartbeat pounding in his temples.

--

"Let me go with you tomorrow," Jun said, tracing symbols onto Sho's chest above where the frayed hem of the blanket lay. He could feel Sho's arm around his waist tighten- just slightly, just enough to be noticed- but it was a long moment before the other man spoke.

"Okay," Sho said finally. His fingers pressed into Jun's hips, hitting the already tender skin there. "Okay."

--

Nino was already loading the Jeep the next morning, shoving bags of salt into the back end and tacking it down with bungee cords.

He noticed Jun before he noticed Sho, but Nino was shrewd, and rarely missed anything. "You coming this time?"

"Yeah," Jun said, throwing his own firearm into the backseat.

"Feelin' lucky?" Nino asked, and that time, he tilted his head towards Sho, talking with the other members of the expedition to the left.

Jun just thought about Sho's mouth seeking hungrily against his, the feel of Sho's hips against his thighs, and the gasping moans the other man made while moving above him.

"Yeah," Jun repeated, and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I am. Let's go kill the Devil."

Arashi- "Fire and Brimstone", Scenes 8 & 9

2009-12-08T08:58:00Z

Title: Fire and Brimstone
Scenes: 8 & 9
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): no pairings yet
Rating: T
Warnings: Some language, mostly frightening situations.
Summary: Few people will actually admit to a belief in things beyond explanation- in the supernatural, in the things that go bump in the dark. But us? Well, it's kind of what we do.

His fingertips were tingling.

Sho was obviously upset. They'd told him three times that they couldn't take him back to his dorm- and no, it didn't matter that he had an exam coming up or that all of his stuff was there- and he'd gotten frustrated and started pacing back and forth, hands tightly clenched at his sides. He sort of looked like a big cat at the zoo Ohno's mother had taken him to when he was younger, caged and predatory on the opposite side of the bars.

"Look, why don't you just sit down and play some video games or something?" Aiba suggested. "That always helps Nino."

"That doesn't work for everyone," Nino scoffed, half-muffled behind the computer screen, and Sho only seemed to look more irritated at the suggestion (which just sort of proved Ohno's point of him being a cat, because he didn't think tigers needed to play video games to de-stress either, just maul smaller creatures).

Ohno shuffled the deck, fingers light. He waited until it felt correct, and then set it down, cutting it three times with his left hand. It was usually pretty easy to ignore what was going on around him, but they were loud, and the apartment wasn't that big- maybe he wasn't concentrating enough, or maybe the cards were just purposefully skipping around the answers he was looking for.

He flipped the top one- Judgment.

"What does it say?" Aiba called, from across the tattered rug (that Sho was going to wear through if he kept up his ridiculous drills back and forth).

Ohno shook his head, moving for the next one- Six of Cups. "It's strange."

"What isn't?" Jun said, under his breath, and Ohno ignored him.

"This is the third time I've done the reading," Ohno continued, pulling off the third card to reveal the Eight of Swords. "And it's all different every time. Except..."

He let his voice trail off as he flipped the fourth card to find The World. He wasn't surprised. He would have been more shocked had the card not appeared in the spot, truthfully, and the very weight of that particular realization was unsettling.

He tapped the card with his finger thoughtfully, chewing on his lower lip. "Except that The World keeps showing up, every time."

"You have to be doing something wrong," Nino said immediately. Ohno knew the slightly raised bite to his voice; he knew, just as Ohno did, the odds of that happening with the deck as large as it was. It wasn't normal.

Ohno kept his finger pad rhythmically hitting the face of the card, staring at the picture on it, of the clouds near the corners and the faces along the side. He knew the card. He just couldn't discern the trembles through it as to what it meant.

"What does that mean?" Sho asked. "What are you reading about?"

"You," Ohno said, bluntly, not raising his eyes from the drawing.

There was a silence that descended across the room, and Sho finally stopped pacing. "Excuse me?"

"We really need some more ramen," Ohno said, lifting his eyes to the cabinets and the refrigerator beside them, covered in free take-out magnets and a few newspaper coupon clippings. He had just remembered that they were almost out.

"What?" Sho asked, sounding aghast.

There were a few clicks from Nino's laptop, sitting on the rickety kitchen table. "Satoshi, what position is it in?"

"Outside forces," Ohno answered.

"Ah," Aiba sighed, chin falling down to his knuckles. He looked forlorn, tugging at some loose threads in his socks. "How unhelpful."

"What?" Sho repeated again. He sounded more agitated and less confused. More like he was going to start stomping his feet against the ground in some kind of temper tantrum. Ohno used to throw a lot of temper tantrums when he was younger, after the cards had started whispering to him. He was almost lost in the memory of one when Sho's shadow fell over the cards. "What does that mean?"

Ohno held the card out to him, shrugging. "The final gateway. The pinnacle."

Sho was looking at him oddly when he took the card from Ohno's fingertips, gingerly, like it would burn him. He looked it over, flipped it and examined the back, and could apparently find nothing that related this to him, because his gaze lifted back to Ohno's face again. "So... what?"

"I don't know what it means in that position."

"I thought you were supposed to be good at this," Sho said, giving the card back to him.

"He is," Nino said, from across the room, sounding a bit affronted, "but he's not a mind-reader."

Sho stared down at the diamond formation on the floor where Ohno had spread the cards out. "And you did this before, before you got me? And that's how you found out about me?"

"Sort of," Aiba said.

Ohno looked down at his own socks. There was a hole where his pinky toe was, and if he wiggled it just right, he could poke his toe out of the material. He might need to pick up some more. He waved his toe through the opening a few times, frowning slightly.

Sho seemed to be bordering on incredibly upset. Ohno wasn't sure exactly what that would look like, so he wasn't positive (but all signs were pointing towards it).

"Hey," Nino said, "I got something."

Aiba rose, and seeing him move, Jun did as well, and both clustered around the back of Nino's fold-out chair as he pushed the screen back slightly to eliminate the glare.

"What are you doing?" Jun asked.

"We've got a forum," Nino said, rapidly clicking and then typing something in- his password, if Ohno was any good at reading the other man's typing. "We use it to find jobs in the area."

Sho was still standing by Ohno's tarot spread. "You have your own website?"

Nino snorted. "Any half-wit with $50 can get their own website nowadays. And with phpMyAdmin knowledge, you can be roughly akin to a god."

"I have no idea what that means," Sho said.

"Me either," Ohno admitted, pulling the cards back into the pile and starting to arrange them in order- he liked to keep them in order when he stored them, because the buzzing in his veins was less severe.

"Anyway," Aiba said, pointedly, and Nino waved at him, clearly getting the point.

"Right, right, anyway, I've got a lead. Seems there's a place in Massachusetts where they've been reporting strange things. Some old house, looks colonial."

Ohno finished putting the cards back and wrapped the crushed velvet around them, feeling them slip snugly into place in the box once more when he slid them in. He was still confused by the World card; confused, and a little anxious, but if he couldn't figure it out yet, he knew it would eventually come. Sometimes the answers popped into his head immediately, and other times it took awhile.

Ohno was patient- he'd learned that from his mother. He would wait to see what they were trying to tell him.

The others, however, probably weren't as easy-going.

"So now, what, we're going there?" Sho asked. "Deliberately?"

"Get ready to hunt," Aiba told him, with a pat on the back that was no doubt supposed to be reassuring (Sho looked like he wanted to throw up a little bit). "It's show time."

---

Aiba parked the car in front of a three-storied house with shutters and a long, thin porch that wrapped snugly around the whole right side. It was dark out, and honestly, that wasn't particularly reassuring to Sho, who stared out the window as the others shuffled out of the car, looking up at the darkened windows that reflected the blackness of the night sky back out at him.

"Maybe I'll just stay in the car," he offered, swallowing hard.

Nino leveled him with a look that clearly got few arguments. "Wimp. Haven't you ever wanted to fight what goes bump in the night?"

"No," Sho said immediately.

But Ohno just handed him a container of rock salt, the lid popped slightly and the label half-ripped without asking if Sho particularly wanted to have a jar of salt in his hands (which he didn't, because he didn't want to go inside, and he had no intention of leaving the car at all).

"But someone needs to watch the supplies," Sho tried feebly, and even then, Aiba was opening up the car door, long fingers looping around Sho's wrist to pull him free from the vehicle. "Wait, wait-"

"Come on," the taller man said cheerily (which was just beyond creepy considering what they were standing in front of). "Just a poltergeist, probably."

"But I don't like poltergeists," Sho said. He was very aware that his voice had reached a level reserved for "whining". He was also very aware that he did not care about this.

Next to him, Ohno handed Jun what appeared to be an old hunting rifle- not state of the art by any means, but the group didn't exactly look like they were in any position to be procuring shiny new weapons from arms dealers. Probably got it at an antique shop and paid somebody to fix it up so it still worked. This was also not particularly reassuring to Sho.

"He cannot possibly know how to shoot a gun," Sho said, pointing an accusatory finger in Jun's direction, who made a somewhat bitchy face at him, cocking the gun with alarming speed and precision and slinging it over his shoulder. "Okay, how do you know how to shoot a gun?" Aiba started tugging at Sho's wrist again, towards the porch. "No, seriously, someone needs to stay with the car-"

"Is he always this annoying?" Nino asked Jun, as the group began to shuffle towards the front entrance of the house- which, according to the forum Nino had been getting his information from, was long since abandoned due to the claims of supernatural activity. "How do you put up with him?"

"I have a lot of iTunes playlists," Jun answered seriously.

Sho couldn't wiggle out of Aiba's grasp (but he'd still heard the exchange, and made a note to punch Jun in the arm later on if he hadn't been killed by some ghost or accidentally shot by one of this bizarre rag-tag team he so desperately did not want to be a part of).

"Please, please let me stay-"

"Shh," Ohno said, and put a finger to his lips for quiet. Sho only complied because he was feet away from the front door and was suddenly terrified on a level that stole all the breath from his lungs, rendering speech impossible. Ohno looked towards the door, readying his own shotgun and then reaching towards the handle gingerly, like he was testing the waters to see if it would open on its own.

It didn't. He had to jiggle the handle and push a bit to get the door to budge.

It was very, very dark inside, and Sho wasn't sure if he'd rather it stay that way, or have someone put on a flashlight. The desires to hide from and see what was potentially waiting for him were waging an epic war in his head, and he wasn't sure which one was going to win.

"Do you have the EMF reader?" Ohno asked over his shoulder to Aiba, who pulled out a strange looking device that seemed to have been created from an old baby monitor.

"This thing never works," Aiba complained. He turned it on anyway, and Sho watched the little green light flicker on in the darkness. Then Nino flipped on the flashlight, and the room was illuminated slightly by the concentrated beam waving around the ground and across the walls.

Ohno started forward. Sho had some trouble getting his legs to move, clutching onto his rock salt for dear life, and didn't stumble forward until Aiba nudged his shoulder and sent him teetering forward after Ohno's retreating form.

It was very quiet. There was furniture left; apparently the last owners had left in a hurry, leaving most of the things behind. There were some end tables and an old sofa that had seen better days, and Ohno maneuvered around them through the first floor until they found a set of stairs coated in a thick layer of dust.

"No," Sho said.

"Up, up," Nino whispered behind him, and he was nudged again, pushed forward until his toes hit the face of the first step and he had no choice but to follow Ohno up if he didn't want to fall flat on his face.

It wasn't until they got to the second floor that the monitor in Aiba's hands began warbling a little. The small bars that lit up in colors with the intensity of the sound began to reach orange, clicking and tapping out a noise that clearly meant something. Ohno turned and Aiba gave him a nod, moving the device around like he was holding a cell phone and searching for service. Nino began bouncing the flashlight beam back and forth across the walls and old paintings.

"I don't see anything," Jun said. He almost sounded bored.

But Aiba tapped his fingernails against the monitor. "The EMF is up, there's something here."

"Or you wired it wrong again," Nino sighed.

Sho looked at where the flashlight beam was positioned, which stayed in place and trembled slightly as Nino leaned in to check the makeshift machine Aiba was examining (apparently the possibility of faulty wiring was high enough to bother checking in the middle of an old, potentially haunted house). He could see the shadows of the others against the ugly floral pattern to the wallpaper, and his own shadow shaking slightly.

He reached up to push his bangs away from his face.

His shadow didn't mirror his actions- it didn't move at all.

He wanted to scream, but his throat had closed so badly that nothing at all came out other than a strangled sounding hiss. He backed up without realizing he was even moving and ran into Ohno, and then he almost fell when he lost his footing against the floorboards.

"What's wrong with you?" Jun asked, and Sho couldn't even point. He couldn't really get any of his body to do what he was telling it to (which was to immediately flee down the steps and to the relative safety of the car once more). "What on earth-"

The EMF device in Aiba's hand flared to life once more, colors dancing across the thin bar.

"Walls," Sho choked out, grabbing wildly for something to hold onto and ending up with Ohno's forearm. "Shadows, walls-"

"What?" Nino asked, and swung, flashlight beam and all, and when he did, there was a sixth shadow there that caught in the beam of light against the interlacing flower stems. And then there was an inhuman scream.

The monitor flew out of Aiba's hands and smashed into the wall, lights snuffed out when the pieces shattered and fell to the floor.

"Shoot it!" Nino shouted.

"Shoot what?" Ohno replied, and there was another scream, and the blackness on the walls began dancing across the surfaces. Something flew at Sho's face, something that looked beaded and lacy and distinctly like a lamp shade, and he barely ducked in time to let it sail over his head and hit the painting hanging behind him.

Ohno spun, but it was clear he couldn't find anything to aim at. "Where is it?"

And then something far larger than a lampshade was being hurled across the room with impressive speed and force, and there were several thuds as all of them jumped out of the way to avoid getting splattered by an armchair. Nino lost his grip on the flashlight, and the beam rolled and tumbled, spinning wildly across the floor, walls, and ceiling but never going out, clattering down to the third step.

"I can't find it!" Aiba yelled, and Sho didn't know if he was talking about the thing on the walls or his broken EMF reader- he wasn't even sure it mattered. He was facedown on the floorboards spitting out dust that had erupted into the air when he'd fallen, and he was trying desperately to get away from whatever it was that was there with them.

It was very, very angry.

Sho wanted to hide with his head over his hands.

"Figure out where it's coming from!" Nino shouted, as if such advise was actually helpful. Sho looked up to see his shadow on the wall across from him, stretched across the floor- and moving. His shadow's arms were reaching up and there was something in them that looked pointy and sharp and-

Sho rolled with a cry, and didn't miss noticing the knife that hit the ground where his left shoulder had been only moments earlier.

And then Jun started shooting rock pellets at the wall above Sho's head, at his shadow moving of its own accord. The shot was scattering across the wallpaper and leaving tiny indentations, and the inky figure on it took off moving, scampering across the wall itself. The flashlight beam suddenly illuminated it further, as Nino crawled to the steps and claimed it once more.

"Stop it!" Sho cried, with his palms pressed flat against his ears. He looked up to see Jun's shooting forcing the shadow figure to flee across an open expanse of wall- and when it reached the cream-painted doorframe, it disappeared, only to reappear again on the other side of the panel, flickering across the floral design.

Ohno was shooting too, and his aim seemed to be a bit better. But things were still flying around the room, and a small figurine hit Sho in the leg, cutting him where the glass broke.

"Look, look!" Aiba pointed. "It's only on the flat parts of the wall."

Nino swung the flashlight wide, catching the retreating form again.

"No," Sho gasped, because he could see where it disappeared, fading from existence once the panels of the doors began. "No, it's on the wallpaper-"

"Jesus Christ," Nino swore. "It's in the wallpaper! How do we tear wallpaper off?"

Aiba tried, diving forward and scratching at it with his nails, but he could barely get pieces free before there was an angry screeching noise and a fireplace poker that hurled through the air at his head. He ducked, and the iron flew into the wall with a terrible bang, protruding out from the hole it had created.

"No good," Ohno cried. "Torch it!"

"Torch it?!" Sho exclaimed. And then, next to his ears, a hideous warped version of a human voice started shrieking get out, get out, get out-!

Nino was fumbling for something in his jacket pocket. "Everybody out!"

Sho did not need any further goading. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, soles sliding against the wooden floors as his hands grappled for a grip on the railing to pull himself around the banister and down the steps. He followed after Aiba, nearly tripping in his haste to get down, and behind him, he could hear the hiss of a match struck against a box.

By the time he got outside, he could see the flames from the second story windows. Nino was the last to join them out by the car, breathless and half-turned to observe the fire already consuming the stoop where they'd been pinned.

"Torch it?!" Sho repeated. "You just burn down houses?!"

"What did you want us to do?" Aiba asked.

"Well, I don't know- get the wallpaper off?" Sho exclaimed, hands in the air.

Nino stared at him. "Sure. I'll roll in tomorrow with my Zinsser and my wallpaper stripping solution in broad daylight and hope nobody notices me in there working."

"Speaking of which," Jun said, opening the car door, "let's go before the fire department shows up to take care of this."

Sho could find nothing more to say until Aiba got the tires spinning against gravel, the car swerving a bit and then speeding forward down the street once more, moving them away from the flying objects and away from the shadows on the walls that didn't match his own actions.

"I think I want to go home," he moaned, head in his hands.

"You aren't in Kansas anymore, Toto," Nino said, "and there's no going back."

Sho was too distraught to say much more, ignoring the 70's rock that Aiba turned on with the radio and trying to tune out everything as the car headed back towards the tiny warehouse apartment in New York.

Supernatural- "What is Love?", Dean, Castiel

2009-12-07T07:14:24Z

Title: What is Love?
Fandom: Supernatural
Character, Pairing(s): Dean, Castiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drabble-esque short-fic, first time I've ever written SPN, so one of those exploratory things?
Summary: Sometimes, car trips with Cas were interesting.

"Sometimes I do not think I know what love is," Cas sighed.

"Love," Dean scoffed, and then quieted, fingers drumming against the Impala's steering wheel. "Love's a fickle thing."

Cas looked confused, but that was really nothing new. "What is love?"

"Baby don't hurt me," Dean grinned. Cas just stared back at him, so he nixed the head bobbing movements. "Love is- look, I dunno. It's complicated. Like one of those things you don't know until you don't have it. It's kind of a weird feeling you get in the pit of your stomach."

The station was starting to get laced with static- too far outside city limits- and Dean pushed in the tape sticking halfway out of the deck.

"A weird feeling in your stomach," Cas repeated.

"Yeah. You know, like knots. That kinda hurt."

As AC/DC began streaming past their ears, Cas held up the foil-wrapped item in his hand, staring at it with his usual intensity. "And what was this... food called?"

"It's a hot dog, Cas."

"I see," Cas said, though he clearly didn't. "I think I must love this hot dog, then, as my body's intestines are most definitely in 'knots'."

His gaze didn't move from the half-eaten staple in his hands, even when Dean turned to gaze incredulously at him, and then Dean sighed, tapping his fingers once more against the wheel in time with the tune.

"Yeah. I'll find you a bathroom."

Final Fantasy IV:OGC- "Exile", Rydia

2009-12-05T07:32:38Z

Title: Exile
Fandom: FFIV:OGC
Character, Pairing(s): Rydia
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: and we're waking up alone // what if I could cross a hundred borders // there's no going home // no going home

There were fireworks when she left Mist- fireworks tinged with screams, flames that leapt from the rooftops and shot high into the sky like comets that had fallen from the stars. She left a piece of her heart there, on the grass next to her mother's crumpled form, and she knew she could never get it back. And still, the memory of the ash and soot and the taste of bile at the back of her throat haunted her, as she suspected it would until she had no memories left. Still, there were fireworks; bloody fireworks, but fanfare none the less.

There were only grim faces when she left the Feymarch. No one fought, because they all knew- even she did, deep inside, somewhere in her heart. They all knew she couldn't stay. And for them, it was not an emotional connection, but one of understanding. They would not mourn for her, lost to them- they would merely think back on the time she had been there, and remember of her what they could, and she would have her memories to take with her to the Upperworld once more. It was the second home she was forced to leave.

She knew it would not be the last.

Her first night back under the stars she spent in a field. It was warm still, and she didn't need the cover- she wanted to see the blanket of jewels in the black of night, twinkling down at her. She thought about her mother and her dragon, of Leviathan and Asura; of Cecil and Rosa and those she had fought beside.

She thought about everything and nothing, letting the song of the heavens soothe her. She may not have a home- she might never again find a place that was truly hers, a place that could watch over her and give her peace. But she had herself, and her memories, and sometimes, that was enough.

Rydia slept with the moonlight on her face.

Tomorrow, she would find her way among the weeds again.

Arashi- "Blowfish Are Sort of Lucky", Ohno/Nakai

2009-11-19T22:39:45Z

Title: Blowfish Are Sort Of Lucky
Fandom: Arashi/SMAP
Character, Pairing(s): Ohno/Nakai
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sexual situations.
Summary: For the JE Smut/Kink Anon Meme 09. "Ohno, desperate to avoid creepy superfan Chinen, vows to bang the first person he sees - watch his face fall when he lays eyes on Nakai."

"Oh my god, seriously," the guy across from him was saying- and Ohno might not have remembered what the guy's name was, but he knew that he kept buying drinks and was proving to be a surprisingly exciting drinking buddy, "that weird little kid is outside again."

Oh, no. He turned to see a face pressed into the glass outside the little shop, nose and fingers smooshed against the sign painted on the outside. "Oh, shit."

"That some kind of elf following you around?" his BFF 4 lyfe asked.

"No," Ohno said, and shuddered, shot-gunning the rest of his beer. His vision was blurry, but not blurry enough, and he hoped the next round would sufficiently alter his gaze enough to forget the figure poised outside. "Worse."

"What's worse than an elf?"

Ohno motioned for the bar-tender and indicated several shots. "A fangirl."

--

Well, of course it wasn't just a fangirl- goodness, Ohno didn't know his fangirls by sight, and there were far too many of them to begin trying (though at his current level of intoxication, he vaguely mused over the idea for a moment or two). It was, in fact, far, far worse than a fangirl; far worse than getting clippings of hair in an envelope with twirly hearts all over it, far worse than receiving previously worn panties when they were thrown at him.

Chinen was the scariest fangirl of all.

His platonic lifemate Tenoshi was ordering more shots. It was helping to forget that Chinen was still out there, watching him through fogged glass like one of those sucker fish that climbed aquarium walls. Wait. Ohno liked the sucker fish. That was an unfair sling against their characters. He mentally apologized to the sucker fish, and accepted the small glass given to him.

"Thanks, Toto-kun," he said.

"My name is Tego," his bestest friend of all best friends replied.

Ohno clinked his glass. "Okay! Cheers!"

--

By the time his favorite person in the world ordered a bottle, Ohno was really having trouble focusing on anything. He remembered vaguely something about a sucker fish- or was it a blowfish? He checked to see if there was a plate nearby, just in case he'd eaten some. He could die. He wasn't sure he wanted to live life dangerously.

"I think that fangirl is still out there," Taro across from him slurred.

"He's going to eat me!" Ohno hissed, getting very close to his best friend's face. "I have to do something about it!"

A glass was pushed into his palm. He hoped it wasn't blowfish. "Like what?"

"I vow!" Ohno began, and raised the glass high. Then he forgot what he was doing, frowned, and tried to remember again. "Oh, I vow to sleep with the next person who walks in that door!"

"What good will that do?" Toshio asked.

Ohno didn't respond. It was a very good plan. And the door was already opening.

--

He woke the next morning in his own bed with a pounding headache, no clothing but his socks on, and half a bottle of Boone's Farm on the side table. He looked around, took in what was going on, and tried to remember what had led up to him obviously passing out. He couldn't think of anything, so he shrugged it off and got ready- he had to be on the Utaban set in two hours for their appearance.

--

It wasn't until he was seated at the table during filming that things started to come back to him, hazy things that tasted a bit like something strawberry. Weird. He didn't think he'd eaten any strawberries last night, but since he was missing a large stretch of time, he couldn't be quite sure.

"Ohno!" Ishibashi said, to his left, poking him, and it was only then that Ohno looked up and across the table. He was remembering something about that face above him and long fingers working up and down his-

Oh.

... wait.

"Ohno, are you listening to us?"

"No," he answered honestly. It was probably the worst possible time he could have started remembering what had gone on last night, and with who. He didn't even know Nakai liked strawberries. "I- need to go throw up."

Well, there were probably more graceful ways to say it, but nobody questioned him when he ran from the table like a crazed madman.

--

Nakai found him in the bathroom as Ohno was staring into the mirror hoping it would portal him away to some other place (possibly a fishing boat, and a nice, calm lake).

"Okay," Nakai said, back against the door. "So, possibly bad timing."

"Bad timing," Ohno repeated.

There was a moment of silence. "How much do you remember?"

"You give great head," Ohno said.

There was another stretch of quiet. "Oh," Nakai said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ohno replied.

"You really can't remember anything else?" Nakai asked. He looked a bit disappointed, and Ohno felt kind of bad- though, he'd been very, very drunk, and possibly not quite sane upstairs, so in his defense, Nakai probably should have seen this coming. But still, he felt kind of bad.

"No," he said. After Nakai's face fell a bit, he added, "But I'd be willing to give it another go if you wanted to give me something to actually remember."

"Really?" came the hopeful response.

Ohno turned on the sink, hoping it would disguise anything else going on, or at least make it sound like he was upchucking a lot. "Well, I mean it was really good head."

"What do we tell the others?" Nakai asked, and then Ohno was being pushed back against the wall and his head almost hit the paper towel dispenser.

"I ate blowfish last night," Ohno supplied.

Arashi- "Home Run", Nino/Kame

2009-11-19T22:37:21Z

Title: Home Run
Fandom: Arashi/KAT-TUN
Character, Pairing(s): Nino/Kame
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations.
Summary: For the JE Smut/Kink Anon Meme 09. "Must include a baseball analogy."

It felt like any other day.

This probably should have struck him as odd, as large life-changing things always happened on days that felt like any other day, but he wasn't thinking about that. Kame was just thinking of the Johnny's baseball game he was going to play in, and also that maybe he should think about doing some laundry (but he only thought about that while he was getting dressed and noticed he was out of his favorite color of boxers). Also, for a little while he thought about getting something for breakfast, but eating nixed that particular train.

He liked baseball. He liked playing with the others on the team and the thrill of victory that tasted sweet on the back of his tongue. He especially liked it when he did well, but that wasn't necessary (or often, depending on how the game went).

And usually, he liked the other people he was playing with.

Except today...

There was something slightly odd about the way his backside was getting smacked. Usually that was normal when someone came back from scoring on a single, or getting a sacrifice bunt. But Kame wasn't the one jogging back into the dugout. In fact, their team wasn't even scoring, they were trailing 4-1.

He wasn't sure he wanted to say anything. He could be very wrong. After all, it was just Nino, and Nino was affectionate with everyone (and to be honest, Kame was kind of excited that his senpai was interacting with him, since sometimes he worried that Nino didn't even know his name; Ohno-san kept confusing Kame with Koki, and Kame could simply not understand the mix-up).

"Nice job out there," Nino said, on the third sweeping butt-pat.

"Thanks," Kame replied. "I- wait, am I up next?"

There was something very odd in his senpai's face when Nino answered. "Do you want to be?"

"Um..." Kame started, and then glanced down at the roster. He was pretty sure- okay, almost completely sure- that the order couldn't be changed mid-game. Unless Johnny had made up some crazy new rules he wasn't aware of. "I don't think it works like that."

"Doesn't it?" Nino just fired back, and then he wandered off, leaving Kame very confused (and maybe a little hungry, but probably just from all the running).

An inning later and he really was up to bat, hitting the end of the bat against the inside of his cleats while he waited in the circle. He was trying to focus, because he really wanted to get in another run or two to get them back in the game a little bit, and Yu was on first so he really just needed a sac fly or a single.

Kame was focused. He was set.

There was a tap on the railing behind him, and he turned to see Nino looking at him with raised eyebrows, chin on his hand and one arm flopping over the side of the dugout. "Are you a switch hitter?"

"What?" Kame asked. He obviously knew what a switch-hitter was; he was confused as to why Nino would be asking him that. There were only two on the roster, and the paper was right there for Nino to check (even though Kame thought he probably should have known those things going into the game).

"Do you bat from both sides?" Nino said. He was enunciating the words weird. The arm he had dangling over the dugout rail swung a little bit from side to side. Kame just blinked at him.

"No."

"Mm," was all Nino said, and then he motioned with a bizarre little smirk to home plate. "Well, you're up."

Kame was very, very confused. Slightly more confused than normal, and sometimes his normal was fuzzy on good days. He ended up getting a double anyway- Yu scored, and he himself ran past home on the next single to left. His teammates all gave him high fives and pats on the head, and when he went to give Nino a high five the other man's fingers curled around his perhaps more than was really necessary and he got kind of close.

Very close.

Very kind of close.

"Nice swing," Nino purred- no, really, he purred it, he sounded like something predatory hiding in the bushes just waiting to pounce. It made Kame's stomach flip-flop a little bit. And then Nino disentangled their hands, and somebody else hit Kame's butt, and Kame just kind of stood there, dumb-founded, struggling to figure out what was going on.

They ended up winning the game, 6-4.

Everyone was in very high spirits. There was the general decision to go out for drinks, except no one really asked Kame if he wanted to go and he felt weird just inviting himself, so he went back alone to the locker room to take a shower instead. He tried not to feel sorry for himself (he was kind of used to this happening, anyway).

He was singing in the shower and didn't hear anyone come up behind him. Not until there were hands on his shoulders, at least, and then he jumped and sort of squeaked in a not-really-manly type of way.

"Easy," Nino's voice said, over his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Kame asked, heart pounding. Nino had definitely been invited out for drinks; he was very popular. And funny. And made cute little hand gestures while telling stories.

The hands on his shoulders slipped down his arms to curl around his waist. He was starting to get a bit concerned, as he was quite naked, and when Nino pulled in tighter, it was apparent that the other man was, too. "I thought it was obvious," Nino said easily, kissing lightly at the back of Kame's shoulder. "But you really haven't been catching on."

"What?" Kame just asked.

Another kiss to his back, and then a little nip to accompany it. "Let's round the bases."

Kame was trying very hard not to grind back into Nino's hips. Nino shifted, one hand leaving its place at Kame's middle and moving up to his neck, tapping out a gentle rhythm there, and the other stayed where it was, tracing circles against his abdomen.

"Senpai," he choked out. This was probably a very bad time to mention he had an Arashi poster on his bedroom wall.

And on the back of his closet door.

Nino spun him around and Kame's back hit the tiled wall. He was out of the stream of water now, and it was a little cold, but that was really the least of his concerns, because Nino leaned in and got very, very close- so close that Kame could feel his breath against his face. He was not even an inch away.

"I thought you went to get drinks," was all Kame could think of to say (and it was a stupid thing to let fall out, to boot).

"I'd rather be here," Nino replied.

Oh, Kame's heart was pitter-pattering in his chest. And he was kind of fluttery happy to hear that his senpai would rather molest him in the shower than go out for drinks with the team, so he took a chance and bridged the distance between them. He thought maybe Nino had been waiting for him to do that- Nino's mouth was soft and pliable and moved against his in all the best ways.

And then Nino's lips were gone, moving down his jawline to kiss down his neck and across his collar-bone. The rain of tiny kisses felt better than the hot water had. When Nino's mouth hit his abdomen and the shorter man dropped down to his knees, Kame had to look somewhere else for fear that it would all be over very quickly. He focused on the tiles on the opposite side of the room, but allowed himself to at least tangle his fingers in Nino's hair.

Nino's mouth was warm when it enveloped him. He groaned, bucking into it a little and then feeling bad (bad form, bad form! pace, he had to pace himself...) afterwards. But Nino seemed to be alright with the movement, one hand sliding back across Kame's hips to tug him in again.

"Ah, senpai," Kame breathed. It was too good, too much, all at once. He was rapidly coming undone, especially when Nino hummed a little in the back of his throat, stroking up the shaft with one finger to meet his mouth and then moving the finger back down again. "Ah, coming-"

His whole body rocked when the orgasm hit. Nino just sucked on his head a bit, making him gasp and his knees threaten to buckle (again), and then pulled away with a satisfied little smirk.

"Shit," Kame managed to say, and Nino was in front of him again, hands at the sides of his face, kissing the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Just rounded third," Nino whispered against his ear. "Go for broke. Make it a home run."

And then Nino grinned, catching the corner of Kame's mouth with a kiss again, hands at Kame's waist in a way that left no room for argument. "And I'm pitching."

Arashi- "Nothing But Quiet Breaths", Sho/Jun

2009-11-19T22:22:09Z

Title: Nothing But Quiet Breaths
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations.
Summary: For the JE Smut/Kink Anon Meme 09. "Staying quiet while the other 3 members are in the room sleeping/next door/close by etc"

Sho's hand accidentally brushed Jun's while riding in the van. When they arrived at the room, their shoulders touched for a couple of seconds. As Jun bent over to pick up his luggage, Sho's palm found its way to the small of his back, a smidgen of pressure there. They laid out the futons and Sho's was next to his, so close the edges of the mattresses were touching.

None of these things individually mean anything, but together- oh, what bad timing. Years of waiting and this is the time that Sho decided to make a move? The five of them are sharing a god-damned room together, five futons laying out on the tatami mats, and Jun's entire body is humming with nervous energy. Every time Sho's fingers graze against his own, all the hair on his arms stands upright.

Jun is still thinking about it when Aiba clicks the lights off with a happy "good night!" and the room is plunged into darkness. He is keenly aware of how close Sho is laying to his right; he can hear the man's breathing, even and rhythmic, not yet asleep. He tries to think of other things, of concert plans and stage placements and remembering the words to everything running through his head, but his mind is screaming with adrenaline.

Timing had never been Sho's strong point.

After a little while, Leader's gentle snores fill the room, and Aiba's breathier, deeper ones join him in an odd little chorus. And then there is the tiny brush of fingerpads against Jun's arm, running from the tip of his index finger up his wrist, across the bone there and around the curve of his elbow. It sends shivers down his spine that he tries to fight back against. They are so close Jun can almost feel Sho's breathing, especially when the other man shifts closer still, hand creeping up and bowing over Jun's shoulder, dragging across the thin fabric of Jun's t-shirt.

God, the others are right there- they are right there.

Jun shifts slightly, moving his hand up to entangle their fingers together just when Sho's fingers start walking across his collarbone. And even then, Sho doesn't stop moving them; they slide and curl in Jun's own, rubbing against his palm and moving against his thumb in little circles.

Sho moves again. He's up on one elbow, fingers escaping Jun's hold to slip across his shirt to his waist, to his hipbones exposed when the blanket is pulled down to his thighs. Every damn brush feels like electricity through Jun's form; he shudders a bit, but doesn't stop Sho's hand from continuing its ministration across his abdomen. Lithe fingers run across his stomach, rounding his navel and dipping lower. They skim beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, and Jun can feel everything coiling and tensing in his stomach. He tries not to buck into the touch, but when Sho's hand skims the front of his boxers, he can hardly resist.

Another shift, and Sho is half on him, lying over him so that Jun can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his arm. Sho is breathing quicker, but so is Jun, struggling to keep it as quiet as possible. Sho's fingers just keeping moving, they keep moving, slipping in the opening in the front of Jun's underwear and he's painfully hard, achingly so. Above him, Sho's breathing hitches and he leans forward, not claiming Jun's mouth but lips landing on his neck, sucking sharply at the skin there.

Jun wants to say something, but he knows he can't. He can't yet hear Nino's little whimpers that signify dreaming, and he can't risk waking them all. He wraps one arm around Sho instead, fingernails digging into the other man's shoulder- he can use that, at least, as a guide, as reins, as a way to control the tempo and the pace of the thing that, despite all his disbelief, was pretty obviously going to happen. With his other hand, he reaches down between their forms to find Sho's erection, hard against Jun's thigh.

He gets an almost hissing intake of air for that move; Sho nips at his ear in approval. Jun glances to the left just to check, convincing himself that the others are still asleep, as Sho's fingers curl around his cock and squeeze. This time, he does buck- he can't stop himself. He grinds up into Sho's palm and swallows back the groan trying to wrench its way out of his mouth.

Sho is tugging his pants down. He can only get them to Jun's ankles before his reach gives out; Jun has to help kick them the rest of the way down, making sure his body doesn't move too much and creak the mats beneath him. He feels bizarrely exposed, but Sho is already pulling his own sweats off, and when the other man's weight settles half-on him again, he can feel the smoothness of Sho's erection against his bare hip. Christ.

Sho's hand is on him again, moving slowly and languidly- far too slowly. Jun arches against him and rakes his nails down Sho's shoulders to show his disapproval. He even leans forward to bite at Sho's lower lip just a bit to get his point across; it seems to work, because Sho shifts, nudging Jun's knees apart to give him more room.

He spits in his palm.

His fingers aren't gentle when he pushes the first one in, stretching, and Jun actually has to bite his own lip to keep the whimpers down. It's like swallowing fire. He's aware that he's probably leaving deep crescent-shaped marks on Sho's back, but it's the only thing holding him where he is. Sho's finger is pumping, curling and sending little shocks that work their way completely down to Jun's toes. He bucks against it, and Sho adds another one.

He can feel Sho's labored breathing against him. Their faces are impossibly close, mouths inches away, hovering apart, and Jun closes the distance to kiss him. It's more to keep himself from making noise than anything else, but Sho's mouth is like honey beneath his own. The other man parts his lips immediately and Jun sweeps in, trying to memorize the curves and ridges as he grinds against Sho's fingers, heels digging into the futon.

God, he wants him- more than anything else, he has to have him. He's trembling with the exertion of staying quiet and as still as possible, and every nerve feels like it's on overdrive. He breaks away from Sho's mouth to hover near his ear, tugging at it with his teeth- yes. And in return, Sho pulls back, spitting in his palm again and moving his hand down to slick his cock.

Jun isn't entirely sure where he should be putting his limbs, tangled in Sho's. He ends up reaching down to help when Sho's shoulders start shaking and he pauses; their fingers overlap curled around Sho's erection and Jun helps guide him in. It stings and he can't bite back the hiss- Sho lunges forward to kiss him and muffle the sound. It ends up pushing Sho in further and Jun gasps. His arm tightens around Sho's back in a desperate attempt to keep clinging to coherency, but he's rapidly losing.

Sho moves. It's all sticky-hot pleasure laced with pangs and Jun is pushing himself up against Sho as much as possible with the leverage he can get with his heels. When he wraps his legs around Sho's waist, he gets a strangled sounding swallow that was probably a moan before Sho thought to subdue it; it sends another ripple of ecstasy through his veins.

He isn't really sure what he wants, but he knows he wants to be touched- he reaches for Sho's fingers, twining their hands together and moving Sho's hand to his own aching cock between them, pressed hard against Sho's stomach. The stroking ministrations on his erection are so good they are almost painful.

"Soy sauce," Aiba mutters, and Sho freezes, panting. Jun's blood is pumping so loud he can swear the others have to be able to hear it. He can hear Aiba turn over and sigh into his pillow, and then again, "put in soy sauce..."

Oh god, they might get caught.

When Aiba makes no further noise, Sho starts up again with a slight hiss. It was like the possibility of one of them waking just made everything that much more intense. Jun is almost embarrassing close, and he squeezes Sho's shoulder in a moment of lucidness to let him know. He feels Sho's fingers tighten around his cock in response- it's over in an instant, sticky against his own belly.

And then Sho's muscles are twitching and clenching, and Jun can feel him come, can hear it in the sudden stop and start of his breathing. Everything is crashing down around him, the weight and reality of the situation, everything, especially as Sho pushes himself up and slides out. Jun's body is sore, aching slightly, though if from relief or pushing his limits, he doesn't actually know.

Sho almost collapses back on his futon. For a second, Jun is terrified that the man is rethinking everything all over again, that he'll go back to the distance there had been between them for so long once more, but Sho reaches over and finds Jun's hand in the darkness once more.

Jun tugs his pants back on, and sleeps.

The next morning, Jun receives a smack in the back of the head and an incredibly dirty look from Nino, who seems to have not slept much at all, and doesn't really feel that bad about it.

Arashi- "Dirty Talking 101 With Sakurai Sho", Sho/Jun

2009-11-19T22:19:20Z

Title: Dirty Talking 101 With Sakurai Sho
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, dirty... talking?
Summary: For the JE Smut/Kink Anon Meme 09. "Johnny decides to start up mandatory sex ed classes for all JE talent. Well, a version of sex ed, at least.Bonus points for the older groups having to educate the younger groups. "Proper Condom Usage" with Nagase and Taichi, anyone? "Dirty Talk 101" with Professor Sakurai (who is really too embarrassed to do much teaching)?"

When Kaemon was handed his schedule for the day, he thought for sure somebody had given it to him as a practical joke- perhaps Denji, since he was still mad about the time that Kaemon put wet newspapers in the toes of his shoes before they went on stage for rehearsal. But he was proved wrong when he entered the classroom and slid into the seat, noting the other Juniors clustered in the chairs around him and a very, very flustered looking Sakurai Sho standing up front.

After a few minutes, it appeared that all the Juniors were present, and Sakurai still hadn't started teaching them anything.

Haruki raised his hand. "Sakurai-san, is this Dirty Talking 101?"

Kaemon noted two things: one, that his schedule was not a practical joke after all (or if it was, it was a large-scale one that involved many of his peers), and two, Sakurai visibly jumped when the name of the class was said.

"Ah!" Sakurai said, looking very nervous. "Ah, yes. Yes, this is... that."

"So this is Dirty Talking 101?" Keiji confirmed.

Sakurai did that flinching, eye-twitching thing again. "Yes. Yes, you are in the right place."

"What exactly are you supposed to be teaching us today?" another asked.

Denji, behind Kaemon, snorted. "Dirty talking, you asswipe, duh."

"We will be talking about..." Sakurai started, and then apparently could think of absolutely nothing to say. He looked like he wanted to take a flying leap out of the window. "About... uh, how to speak to your.... partner... during.... intimacy."

The room was silent. Sakurai looked as if he wanted to die.

"So, like sexy stuff?" Jiro asked.

"Should we be taking notes?" Keiji inquired, sounding worried. Kaemon actually hadn't brought a notebook, but he thought he'd probably remember the highlights without writing them down.

In the front of the room, Sakurai ran his hands through his hair, taking several long, deep breaths. "Yes, there are many ways to ... uh, communicate with... uh, right, well... you know, there's a lot of things you can say when... well..."

The door to the classroom opened and closed, and Matsumoto walked in. His eyes swept over the sea of Juniors sitting in the desks, and then fell on Sakurai, who looked more relieved than should be possible to see his bandmate.

"Jun," Sakurai sighed, shoulders falling forward. "Thank God. Are you here to help me?"

"Mm," Jun affirmed.

Keiji's hand shot up again, quicker than lightning. "Is this a demonstration?"

"No!" Sakurai sputtered, at the same time that Matsumoto sort of bit his bottom lip in a half-smile and said, "I think it works best that way."

Sakurai turned to Matsumoto, looking incredulous and mildly affronted. "What? No! No, no, no-"

The class had just gotten more interesting (though Kaemon would have sat through an hour of listening to Sakurai Sho stammering through what he thought were sexy pick up lines, too, just for the laughs). Matsumoto shrugged off his jacket and let it slide down one arm to the desk. Sakurai just kind of stood in one spot, caught somewhere between horrified and disbelieving.

"What have you covered so far?" Matsumoto asked. There was a chorus of "Nothing!" and he nodded. "Alright. Well, assume you've gotten your subject in your line of vision. You know what you want, correct?"

There was another affirmative chorus, slightly more subdued. Kaemon leaned further over his desk, craning his neck. Matsumoto was stalking up to Sakurai like a lion in the Serengeti, moving around the back of the desk and circling the other side. His gaze was predatory. Sakurai's eyes were very wide. "So you have your target. Got them where you want them. The whole point to dirty talking is to enhance the experience."

"So it's best for people who are auditory in nature, right?" Keiji again. Probably thought the class was going to be graded.

"Right," Matsumoto said, and he hadn't broken eye-contact with Sakurai yet. One hand moved to rest on Sakurai's shoulder, and then move slowly down his arm. "But it's not just for that. Most everyone will find enjoyment from it."

Some of the Juniors had pulled out notebooks and were quickly jotting things down.

"Jun," Sakurai breathed, kind of like a warning, and then Matsumoto moved so his mouth was very near Sakurai's ear.

"Do you know what I want to do to you?"

Sakurai's jaw snapped shut. Matsumoto's other hand was moving back up Sakurai's arm, sliding across his collarbone, and starting to un-button the top clasp of his shirt. "I want to bend you over the desk and take you."

The kid next to Kaemon muttered an awed "dirty!". But Matsumoto seemed to be far from done- he moved to the next button, keeping his face near Sakurai's jaw, speaking just loud enough that the Juniors could hear. "Hard, and fast, and rough. That's how I'm going to do it."

Sakurai was sort of rapidly losing the color to his face. "Jun..."

"I'm going to slide my hands down your pants and touch you," Matsumoto sighed, and he nipped at the bottom of Sakurai's ear. "I'm going to curl my fingers around your cock and make you moan for me inside you."

Kaemon adjusted his bag in his lap. Behind him, Denji was mumbling something that sounded like jesus christ this is naughty and whoever had been tapping their pen against the desk surface had abruptly stopped.

Matsumoto had Sakurai's shirt open; at least Sakurai was wearing a tee underneath. Still, it allowed Matsumoto to slide his hands in and run his fingers over Sakurai's chest, which seemed to be working very well, if Sakurai's little gasping noises were anything to go off of. "You'll moan, and moan, and beg and plead for me to be in you, and you'll be so close, so close to it-"

"Oh God," Sakurai whispered. His knees looked shaky.

"I won't give it to you," Matsumoto said. "Not until I can feel you around me when it happens."

He moved so suddenly it startled even Kaemon- but maybe he'd just been focusing a bit too much on the show going on at the front of the classroom. Matsumoto shoved Sakurai's shoulders and Sakurai ended up sprawled on his back over the desk. Quick as a wink, Matsumoto was over him on all fours, knees clanking somewhat awkwardly against the desk top.

"You'll just be splayed beneath me, writhing and begging," Matsumoto hissed. His hands were inside Sakurai's shirt and Kaemon couldn't see them anymore. "Beg me for it, Sho."

"Jun-"

"Fucking beg me for it, now."

Sakurai made a choking noise, and Kaemon was pretty sure that somebody in the back of the room was making the same sound. "Please."

"Please what?" Matsumoto whispered, and Kaemon had to strain to hear it.

Sakurai was bucking up against Matsumoto's hands. "Please, please, Jun, please touch me-"

The Juniors were out of their seats, crowding up in a strange semi-circle around the front of the room. It was getting hard to hear what the senpai were saying in the back, so Kaemon didn't blame them, and really, the view was helping make everything so much more clear anyway.

Sakurai seemed a lot more into it now. His hands were definitely on Matsumoto's thighs, working their way up. "Jun, please-"

"What do you want?" Matsumoto whispered languidly, making a trail with his tongue up Sakurai's neck. "What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me," Sakurai rasped. "Jesus, Jun, fuck me."

And then suddenly Matsumoto was off the desk, popping the kinks of out his neck. "Alright, so you see? How it works and what it does?"

"Yes," Jiro said, sounding awed. On the desk, Sakurai looked a bit shell-shocked, like he couldn't quite figure out what had just happened.

Denji giggled a little behind his hand. "Dude, you just got schooled."

"Yeah," Kaemon added, "nice boner."

Sakurai got up with a thunderous expression on his face, grabbing for Matsumoto's arm and dragging him roughly towards the door. "Class dismissed!" he snipped over his shoulder, and the door slammed shut behind him so hard it rattled the walls.

Arashi- "Legs Avenue", Nino/Jun

2009-11-19T22:16:30Z

Title: Legs Avenue
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Nino/Jun
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations.
Summary: For the JE Smut/Kink Anon Meme 09. "Jun's proud of what he does - despite the idiotic college students that bug him after their classes and the occasional rude customer. Jun likes being the owner of a adult shop and working at the counter. He just wishes he could get himself some of what he sells once in a while.."

Jun was contemplating putting up a giant pair of legs around the doorway, so that customers walked into the "portal", so to speak, when they entered. He thought about this while leaning over the desk, sighing at the front of the store as the customers meandered about, checking out wares and the latest installment of "Nannies Gone Wild" on the DVD shelves. It had been a slower night, which meant it was going to speed up all at once near closing time- the jokes he could make were extensive, but the truth was that his feet were killing him, he was still under quota for the month, and he hadn't gotten laid in a very long time.

It was ironic- painfully so- that he owned an Adult Goods store, and got so little of his own.

"Dude, where are your plastic vaginas?" a (probably drunk) college kid asked with a leer.

"Third row behind the vibrators," Jun said, bored, never taking his eyes away from the doorway. Would the legs fit? Would it take up too much of the parking lot? He wondered if the Mexican restaurant next door would take offense to it (they had already nixed his plan to have a dancing animatronic penis in the window).

The college kids wandered off, and his vision was suddenly invaded by large blonde pigtails. "So, my boyfriend keeps telling me that we should be watching like, porn together, and like, gross, whatever, but he seems really into it and I thought, like, maybe I could get some in hopes he'll go down on me more often. Any suggestions?"

"Try the Couples section near the Specialty wall," Jun told her, and when she turned, added, "and if you really want him to go down on you more, you could try the fresheners over by the Sweet 'n Blow."

Truth be told, he'd never actually used Sweet 'n Blow. He'd also never used any of the other lotions, creams, or chocolate-flavored powder to be put on with feathers. Jun's own sex life consisted of his hand and a magazine so tattered from being shoved under his mattress that the edges were fraying. He didn't tell this to customers; it was far too embarrassing (and he needed them to believe that it was with experience that he firmly stood behind that Mini-Bullet with extra battery charger included).

The college kids bought some lesbian porn (and a plastic vagina), the girl bought a DVD (and looked offended that Jun had insinuated that she needed freshening), and Jun was just about to close up shop five minutes early to get a head-start on counting the register when the bell on the door dinged once again.

"Can I help you?" he asked the somewhat ruffled looking man that had come in, who was currently digging in his coat pocket for something.

"Ugh, probably," was the reply, and then he produced a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, pulling it apart with surprisingly nimble fingers. "My friends are having a party, and I was sent to buy supplies."

Jun heard this excuse at least half the time that people didn't want to admit that the Super Tyranno Dildo in XXXL they had just purchased was actually for their own use. "Okay. What were you looking for?"

"Looks like... warming massage oil," the man said. "First on the list."

Since there were no other customers, Jun left his place behind the counter and showed the man, who was a few inches shorter than him, where the section for oils and lotions was.

"Wait, these all have flavors?"

"Sure," Jun replied, with a shrug. "What kind do you want?"

He suddenly found himself with arms full of a jacket and the list itself, in addition to what appeared to be the man's DS hanging from a chain. "Hold these." The customer started reaching for bottles on the wall, checking the front and then either making a disgusted face or looking thoughtful, leaving them on the shelf if he didn't want them and piling them between his chest and wrist if he did.

"What are you doing?" Jun asked. He was aghast- he had to clean up before closing, and the guy was screwing the entire section up. It was going to take forever to get them all back in order again.

The man shot him a look that clearly said Jun should have understood the point to the exercise. "I'm not going to buy them if I don't know what they taste like. That would be stupid." He eyed the nametag on Jun's chest. "That would be stupid, Jun."

"Wait, you can't just-" Jun started, but it was too late, and the man had the cap off of BOOBerry Pancakes already. "You can't just open them all up! I can't sell them like that!"

BOOBerry Pancakes did not seem to entice the customer, and got put back on the shelf in favor of EXXXtra Cherry Rapture. "Great. Now you have some testers. Should probably have those anyway, you know. Here, put this on your hand."

Jun stared at him. "Excuse me?"

The man motioned at him, looking impatient, like he was the one being inconvenienced. "Well, come on. I'm not going to lick it off myself, am I?"

There was absolutely nothing else Jun could do but hold out his hand (the one that wasn't holding all of the man's possessions) wordlessly. The other put some of EXXXtra Cherry Rapture on Jun's skin, and then licked it. Jun could think of nothing to say that wasn't insulting. The man licked at his lips a few times, looking thoughtful.

"Not bad," came the verdict. "But which one do you suggest?"

"I-" Jun started, and then paused, unable to continue. "I don't actually know what they taste like."

The man stared at him. "You work here."

"Yes."

"What do you mean you don't know what they taste like? How are you not just standing over here all day licking them off of yourself?"

Jun felt oddly exposed under the guy's stare- he had very intense eyes. In fact, all of him seemed to be kind of high-strung, coiled and roiling energy in a ball of sharp wit and displeased expressions. "I... well..."

It was after closing time; the clock on the wall informed him that he had already lost five minutes that he should have been doing closing duties. But suddenly Jun didn't really care. He was sick of playing it safe with his hand and his lavender conditioner every day. Maybe he'd mix it up once in awhile, too, even if it was just with himself. He dumped the man's belongings on the floor, stepping forward nearer to the shelf. "I guess I'll find out. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," the man said, sniffing at SHOCKolate Surprise. "It's Nino."

"Well, Nino," Jun said, holding out a bottle, "put this on your arm. Let's see what it tastes like."

--

Forty-five minutes later, they had migrated to the lube and condom corner. They had collectively decided that SHOCKolate Surprise, BOYsen Berry, and Banana SPLITS were the best tasting massage lotions, the chocolate-flavored powder just kind of tasted like dust (but the feather was great for tickling each other), and the gel that warmed when you blew on it was a definite winner (they had both pocketed a bottle). Jun was tempted to break out a pack of edible underwear, but he wasn't entirely sure if he was willing to lose the $12 it would cost him to do so.

Nino was happily digging through bottles of flavored condoms. "Watermelon? Christ, why would I want someone's junk to taste like watermelon?"

"Why not?" Jun shot back. He found a bottle of warming lubrication and frowned at the label. "This seems like it would burn, do you think this burns?"

"Never tried it," Nino said.

Jun motioned for him. "Fine, okay, then put this on your arm and we'll see."

"My arms are already covered in lotion, cream, and that weird shimmer shit," Nino complained. "I'm already all sticky. This isn't a very good experiment."

Jun considered this, glancing at the man seated on the carpet across from him. "Well... I need another part of your body, then."

Nino's eyebrows went up- fractionally- but he didn't challenge Jun, and he didn't say anything. He just got a vague smirk on his face and tilted his head slightly to one side. It was almost like a challenge- the curve of his neck was exposed beneath dark tendrils of hair and the bump of his t-shirt collar.

Jun squeezed a few blobs onto his fingers, took a deep breath, and leaned in to smear it up to Nino's jaw line.

"Is it flavored?" Nino asked. His voice was kind of oddly husky.

"I don't think so."

"Maybe you should check," Nino whispered. Their faces were very, very close. Jun licked his bottom lip, feeling more anxious nerves twisting in his stomach than he had since high school. There was something alluring in Nino's gaze, something he wasn't quite sure he was willing to part with. And he had so little to really lose.

He leaned in and licked a little at the gel he'd just dispersed on Nino's skin. When he couldn't taste anything, he tried again, leaving his tongue against the warmth longer. Nino gasped a little, just a hiss of a sound, really, and then Jun was lost, kissing the man's neck and moving his other hand up to cup Nino's face.

He got about a second to enjoy his place between Nino's shoulder and ear before Nino moved, and Jun had to admit, Nino's mouth was even better than his neck had been. Nino's mouth moved beneath his in the most glorious little ways, parting and opening and allowed Jun access with a muffled groan.

And then Jun was pushed back onto the floor on his back, with Nino straddling him and raining little kisses on his face. They were both wearing entirely too much clothing- apparently Nino had the same thought, because his hands immediately went to unbuttoning Jun's embroidered polo shirt and tugging it over his head. Jun had to shift and move to get it off, and then he went for Nino's, only it got stuck a bit due to his position.

"Just, wait- let me-" Nino pulled it over his head. "There, there-"

Jeans came off next, pushed down calves and past ankles until there was a puddle of denim on the floor. Nino was laughing against his mouth, hands roaming everywhere, taking in all of Jun, just as Jun was doing to the other man sitting over him.

"You know," Nino gasped, as Jun bucked up against him- Jesus, he was hard, so hard already. Nino's hands were working wonders on his cock. "That warming stuff does kind of burn."

Jun groaned when Nino's mouth found his again, and the other man nipped at his lip. "Get the KY."

Nino reached for it, opening the bottle a bit hastily and slicking his fingers (and managing to get some on Jun's stomach from haste, but Jun didn't really mind, even if it was a bit cold). When Nino slid one finger inside, Jun grabbed for his other hand, just trying to find something to hold onto. He also noticed that he really needed to dust the ceiling fan above them, as it was a bit gross.

"More," Jun choked, and Nino complied with another finger, curling back and twirling his wrist a little bit.

"Are you ready?" Nino asked, sounding kind of strangled. "Are you?"

Jun didn't think he'd ever been more ready for anything in his life. "God, yes, please-"

Nino pulled down one of the boxes of condoms, giggling breathlessly as he tore the packaging open. "Ribbed for combined pleasure? I think so!"

"Pretty sure that's for chicks," Jun groaned, arching back up off the floor and nearly crying from the sudden stop in ministrations. His own hand found his aching cock by itself, pulling and tugging to keep the sensations building while Nino was busy.

"We'll see," Nino whispered, low and heady and full of everything when he pushed in. And then he largely stopped talking, which was even more tantalizing, considering how much he liked to talk. When he was pounding against Jun's ass, he didn't do much other than moan and gasp, mingling with Jun's own (albeit somewhat girly) whimpers. He kept hitting the best spot, the pangs that tingled all the way through Jun's toes.

"Shit," Nino said, between pants, "shit, Jun, I'm gonna come-"

Jun was too, if Nino kept making those mewing noises. Nino tensed and his fingers tightened around Jun's thigh (which, okay, was hot as shit, really) and his eyes sort of fluttered close. That was about all Jun noticed before his own orgasm was rippling through, leaving him breathless and shaky and drained, but pleased.

Nino pulled out with a bemused glance upwards. "The girls on the cover of the Pirates movie are eyeing me."

"Probably mad you didn't use one of the pearl-encrusted vibrators," Jun sighed.

"How was the condom?" Nino asked, wiggling one eyebrow. "Good for you?"

Jun grinned back. "I've had better."

It took a little while to gather the scattered pieces of their clothing and re-orient themselves. Jun's whole body felt happily warm, like he'd fallen into a patch of particularly bright sunlight. He rather liked the feeling. It was probably worth holding onto.

"So do you have enough for the party?" he asked, when Nino began collecting all of his purchases.

"More than enough," came the response. "Wanna come with me? You can be my date."

Jun's heart was in his throat. "Really?"

"Yeah," Nino said, and smiled. "I think I kinda like you. Plus, it would give us the chance to try out all this other great stuff."

--

Jun threw out his porn magazine the next day. And his lavender conditioner, but only because Nino declared it girly and threw it out of the shower, replacing it with something named after a medieval weapon that he claimed made Jun smell much sexier.

Jun wasn't complaining.

[Not Fic]

2009-11-16T19:46:35Z

The JE Fanfiction Feedback & Concrit Meme
Tell me what YOU think of my writing here!

It makes a lot more sense to post this here, doesn't it? :)

Arashi- "Fire and Brimstone", scene 7

2009-11-08T06:31:19Z

Title: Fire and Brimstone
Scene: 7
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): no pairings yet
Rating: T
Warnings: Some language, mostly frightening situations.
Summary: Few people will actually admit to a belief in things beyond explanation- in the supernatural, in the things that go bump in the dark. But us? Well, it's kind of what we do.
Note: Nope, not dead! This is short and I know I said I would typically post these things in groupings when they are short-ish, but this is sort of a "hey, story still here" type thing since it's been forever. :)

When Sho woke next, he didn't know where he was.

It was still dark beyond the glass of the car windows- dark enough that he couldn't see anything, though at his current state, he wasn't really sure he wanted to be able to pick anything out. On his right, Jun had his chin on his hand, propped up against the side of the door, and on his left, Ohno had his head back against the seat. He was snoring softly.

He was pretty sure that Nino's iPod was hooked up through the car radio, and was playing some kind of synthesized video game music.

Sho stayed silent and relatively calm (as well as he could) while sizing up his options before the two in the front noticed that he was awake again. The way he saw it, he had a few paths he could follow. He could wait until the car stopped, find a pay phone, and call a police office with really strong holding cells where he could sleep until whatever it was that was chasing him was caught. He could wait until the car stopped, find a pay phone, and call his family, provided he felt like waiting through both the derisive laughter when he explained some ghost-thing was after him, and the disappointment when they found he'd all but skipped campus.

(He could also push Jun aside and throw himself out of the moving car, but the highway was kind of hard, and truth be told, Sho didn't much like that option.)

As much as contacting the authorities seemed like a good idea, Sho knew it really wasn't. It was a false sense of peace; the police hadn't done much when his mother had called them hysterical because her son had fallen into the lake from the dock all those years ago. They couldn't identify why he had left his room and the house in the first place. There were no doors unlocked, they said, no sign of a struggle or intrusion. He must have been sleep-walking, ma'am.

And as weird as the three guys were that had picked him up- they knew something. That was more than he could say about anybody else he'd encountered, including the paranormal group that his great-aunt had taken him to when he was twelve, thinking he had some kind of long-lasting scars due from his almost drowning incident (which he did, but sitting in a circle chanting and talking about kool-aid wasn't going to uncover them).

Sho decided to wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

No more than ten minutes later, Aiba pulled the car into the parking lot of a rather dingy looking apartment complex that had seen better decades. Ohno stirred as soon as the tires squeaked against the curb- Jun a few moments later, when the engine puttered to nothing and Aiba killed the ignition.

"Where are we?" Sho asked.

"Home sweet home," Nino answered cheerily. He sounded a bit strained- maybe he was tired, too. It wasn't yet dawn, and the numbers on the digital clock radio in the dash informed him that there was still a good hour or two left before the sun rose. Sho stumbled out after Jun, trying to pop the kinks out of his neck.

The apartment building looked worse when there wasn't windshield glass to fuzz parts of it out. Sho scrunched his nose up at it, frowning. "No, really, where are we?"

"Wawarsing," Ohno said.

"New York?" Sho sputtered. "I can't be in New York. I have a test, and I have to study, and I have to go back to school-"

Nino gave him a look Sho couldn't entirely read, and moved up towards the building, fishing an entirely too-full key ring out of his jacket pockets to unlock the front door (Sho was secretly grateful that the front door actually locked, because the building looked decidedly un-savory). "Sure," he said. "Go back to school. Guess what's waiting for you?"

"I can't," Sho snapped. "I don't know what it is. No one has told me."

And then there was a hand on his shoulder. Ohno seemed to have a way about him that was calming even in the most surreal situations, or right when Sho was working himself towards a very impressive shouting fit. "We'll tell you. But it's late. Er- early. We all need some rest."

Sho didn't want to follow them inside, because they were Crazy People, but he really was exhausted, and his feet were largely moving of their own accord. "How do you know we'll be safe?" he asked, wearily, trudging up the stairs and trying to ignore the cobwebs that had gathered thick in the corners.

Aiba gave a flick against the wall when they neared the first door at the top of the stairwell. There was something drawn on the brick in white chalk, something that looked like a cross between a star and a circle. Sho had seen it before. It was a Pagan symbol, a Pentagram; he scoured enough New Age sites to know it was a symbol of protection.

"Not foolproof," Aiba said, and Nino muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like obviously not, you still live here, "but we're better off here than there."

"Whatever," Jun sighed. There were bags under his eyes.

Sho didn't exactly know what he'd been expecting- okay, if he was honest with himself, he'd been expecting something grander. More impressive. Like the war room at the White House or the room with all the guns in the first Matrix movie. Something that reeked of power and control, and being on top of all situations with lots and lots of weapons.

It mostly just reeked like stale ramen and pots that hadn't been cleaned in awhile. There were a number of beaded chains hanging from the curtain rod above the living room doors. On the folding table there was a set of Tarot cards mid-spread, and beside that, a TV with a game paused. Jun kind of looked like he was going to have a hernia, which was the only part that was even remotely funny, since Sho had lived with him long enough to have picked up on his OCD cleanliness habits.

"Not a lot of room," Ohno said, and that was a real understatement, because it looked like there were only two small bedrooms off the living room and a bathroom (Sho kind of wanted to follow Jun when he entered the first time, just to see if Jun actually passed out).

"Got one air mattress and a sleeping bag," Aiba proclaimed as he pulled what he claimed to be a sleeping bag out of the closet. "You guys can sleep out here."

Sho was really just too tired to argue. "Okay."

"Nino and I are in the furthest room, and Satoshi is in the next one," Aiba continued, patting the sleeping bag, which only caused a billow of dust to rise into the air and make him sneeze.

"What are we doing here?" Sho wondered aloud.

Ohno clicked the lock on the door as Aiba started adjusting pillows (which, Sho noted, were not actually pillows meant to be slept on, but clearly decorative pillows purchased at discount at the Salvation Army). "Staying safe."

They hadn't tried to kill him yet. They'd actually gotten him out of what seemed to be a dangerous situation and though they had dragged him- and Jun- out to God only knows where to do Heaven only knew what, they hadn't pulled a knife on him, they weren't digging out ball-gags, and they were allowing them to sleep in their very small apartment on their very not guest-friendly wares. And as much as Sho was loathe to admit, he didn't hate them. At all, really.

He sort of collapsed on the sleeping bag. It was setting on the cement floor, so there wasn't much padding, and he just groaned into the material when the pang shot up his leg.

"We can talk tomorrow," Ohno promised. He didn't sound threatening. Jun sat gingerly on the air mattress a few feet away as Ohno turned the last light in the living room off and disappeared down the hallway. It took only a second before Jun reached over to flip the TV off- the paused game had been throwing bizarre shadows all over the room.

Sho could no longer see anything.

"Do you think we are going to die?" he asked.

Jun snorted a bit derisively. "They don't seem like they would be very coordinated murderers."

"We might die," Sho said.

There was a sigh, and then the rustling of some blankets. "Yeah. We might," Jun said, which was just terribly unhelpful. Sho really wanted to stay awake just in case one of them burst out of their bedrooms wielding a chainsaw.

His eyelids were very, very heavy, and instead, he slid almost immediately into sleep.

Arashi- "Shower Steam", Sho/Jun

2009-10-29T09:34:45Z

Title: Shower Steam
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Takes place directly after the Arashi no Shukudai-kun episode with the potato starch Ailand game.
Summary: Sometimes you have to get very dirty in order to come clean.

Sho's heels were squishing against the floor as they stumbled back to the green room after the shoot. He was coated in potato starch goo- it might be liquid when you put your hand into it, but on his clothes it was definitely more solid, and it was even more definitely not coming off anytime soon. They might as well have been wearing mesh for all the good the windbreakers did; it was on his skin, too, like a cold, goopy second skin.

"Ugh," he said, to himself as he followed Nino into the open room. "Gross."

"Just want to shower," Leader was saying, already stripping off his jacket. The sentiment was echoed through the five of them. Sho had his jacket off by the time the stagehand poked his head inside.

"The showers aren't working," he said.

"What?" Jun asked.

"I'm sorry, I'm very sorry," the poor stammering man bowed, hands on his thighs. "But the plumber was supposed to be here this morning to fix them and he didn't show up."

Jun was moving towards the showers with more purpose than Sho had seen from him in weeks- no doubt to try and prove the man wrong. Sho followed, with Nino on his heels.

"It can't be that bad, right?" he asked. "We just need to get this gunk off, it won't take that long."

Matsumoto strode purposefully into the stall and twisted the knob. At first nothing happened at all, and, annoyed, Jun moved it further. Then all of a sudden there was a hissing screech that sounded like metal bending out of place, and an even louder shriek of water moving through pipes, and then the shower was practically exploding, sending water everywhere. Jun's reflexes were quick, but not fast enough. Sho was completely soaked by the time Jun got the knob turned back off, and even then the water hadn't stopped- it had burst one of the valves, alright, and was leaking out onto the floor on 'off'.

"You broke it," Nino said, accusingly; he'd ducked behind Sho when the spray had erupted, and had managed to get by with only minimal water on him. Sho's bangs were plastered across his forehead, and strands were stick on his cheeks, hitting the sides of his mouth.

"Shit," Jun mumbled. He looked like he'd just jumped in a pool.

"Now what?" Sho asked.

"I'm going home," Nino said, sounding irritated- if anyone should be irritated, Sho thought it really shouldn't be him. He wasn't the one whose underwear were not only sticky but also soaking, and the sticky-soaking combination was even worse than just the goo had been.

"He said it was broken?" Aiba asked. He stuck his head in the doorway, looking from figure to figure.

Jun ran his hands through his hair, glaring at nothing and everything. "Well, it is now."

"Oh." Aiba looked oddly crestfallen. Maybe he'd wanted to shower, too. "Can I go to your place and shower, Nino?"

"No," Nino said, harsher than he'd needed to. Aiba's expression fell further, and it was always times like those that Sho wanted to go and put his hand on Aiba's shoulder and stick up for him, because he took things so personally and so seriously and Nino was just irritated like they all were, still goopy and tired from having to run in place on top of the stuff. But Ohno stepped forward in a rare moment of genuine leadership.

"You can come with me," he said, fingers on Aiba's elbow- just enough. Just enough to get the smile back on Aiba's face.

Which left Sho still with no place to de-goo. And he so badly did not want to have to take a taxi all the way home sopping wet and sticky in places that should never, ever be that sticky.

He turned to Jun, who was still glaring at the leaking showerhead. "I'm far, could I-?"

"Yeah," Jun agreed, without looking, wiping his hands on his pants like it would do any good (it didn't- his slicks were messier than his arms were).

"Oh." Sho thought maybe Jun would look at him, or say something- or anything, really. Jun did nothing. "Okay. Thanks."

Aiba came in with towels, and Sho took two; he didn't need to be ruining the upholstery in the car. His paychecks definitely wouldn't cover that, and he didn't think he could claim it under any sort of insurance. He followed Jun out of the room, and tried to give the stagehand a watery smile (it didn't seem to work, the man looked petrified). It wasn't his fault, after all, that the plumber hadn't shown up.

They didn't really talk on the drive to Jun's apartment. Sho didn't know what it was- the annoyance of the showers breaking, exhaustion from trying to run on the concoction during the shoot. Maybe it was the way Sho's hips still burned a bit from where Jun had touched him to drag him backwards. Sho stared out the window and tried to ignore all the nostalgia rushing up, because all it did was clog his throat.

He'd spent a long time trying to forget all that. He didn't need it coming back now, not when things were tense- maybe they were strained because Jun felt it, too. Sho let his forehead bang against the window. Ugh, he should have gone with Leader and Aiba.

Because it had been a long time. And the situation was- well, it had been a long time.

----

"I'm really good," Jun said. "You'll see, I'll make you something as thanks for helping me study."

"Getting through high school will be thanks enough," Sho laughed, but didn't stop him- his stomach was growling, and he wouldn't mind a snack. Plus, Jun seemed so eager to please, why should he stop him? The other boy was already up and banging pots around, doing something that Sho couldn't claim to understand, leaving the math book open on the table.

"I will, I will," Jun promised, clattering something awful. A ladle fell and banged loudly on the counter, making Sho wince.

"What are you making?" he asked. It was obvious the studying was effectively done- at least for the time being, so he threw his pencil down and went to join Jun at the counter.

"Just wait!" the other boy said, looking bright-eyed and pleased, flushed a bit on his cheeks. "It'll be a surprise!"

Sho crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not sure I like surprises."

"Yeah, well," Jun sighed, reaching for something up in the highest cabinet. Even all elbows and gangly limbs, it still required him to get up on his tip-toes to brush his fingertips across the shelf. He was tall, but he was so willowy that sometimes Sho worried he was going to just blow away. "You're boring like that, Sho-kun."

"I am not boring!" But he couldn't help but laugh, because Jun was straining and could still barely move whatever he was reaching for- a box of something, Sho couldn't read the side (and to be honest, he probably wouldn't know what it was anyway- cooking really wasn't his forte). "Wait, wait, okay, see you are going to spill that-"

The warning came too late, and a second later they were both covered in powder. Sho coughed and spat whatever it was out of his mouth- it was a bit bitter.

"Dammit," Jun said, but he was giggling a little- it was pretty hard not to, especially when Sho lifted his gaze. Jun was coated in white powder, and looked like a half-melted snowman. He started to laugh himself, and pretty soon they were both wheezing so hard they could barely breathe. The kitchen floor was covered.

"Crap," Sho said, kicking at the box lying on its side on the tiles. "This is a mess."

"We're a mess," Jun pointed out. He held his hands out as if examining the substance coating the backs of his hands.

"Come on," Sho said, moving towards the bathroom. "If we don't shower first, we'll just end up making more of a mess trying to clean up."

Jun followed obediently. Sho flipped the bathroom light on and started the water running.

"Just get the stuff off," he said, turning. There was powder all over Jun's face, under his eyes and coating his lips, and without thinking, Sho ran a hand across the other boy's cheek. His thumb came away along with several layers of powder. But he'd done something- changed the tension. He'd altered it without really meaning to, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of it. It felt like weights on his shoulders, pushing him towards the floor.

Jun took a step closer.

"Sho-kun," he said, and it was very, very nearly a whisper, so low Sho could barely hear it over the running water behind him. And he didn't answer, because his tongue had swollen so big it was almost choking him, stuck in his throat. "You know-"

Sho did know. He'd known for a very long time, before Nino had teased him and Aiba had playfully elbowed him in the ribs. He'd known since they were together in a mass of juniors, meeting up at the vending machines and practices. He'd always known but he didn't say anything, because it would have made things awkward, and they had to work together, and he thought maybe it had gone away.

It hadn't. It was becoming increasingly obvious how much it hadn't by the growing nerves in his stomach.

And Jun was leaning towards him more, and Sho just couldn't move. Even when the other boy's mouth hit his, he just- couldn't move. Couldn't do anything. Couldn't respond or push him away or even think coherently.

Jun pulled back, staring at the floor.

"I'm just going to take a shower," he mumbled, and- god, had his voice hitched? Sho couldn't tell because he was moving so fast, and he left the bathroom still shell-shocked.

After that, Jun hadn't come over to study very much anymore. And Sho knew why.

---

The click Jun's key made when he unlocked his door was deafening. The concoction on Sho's pants had hardened as the water began to dry again- it was flaking off with every step he took, squishing in his shoes. He followed Jun in the apartment, letting it swing shut behind him. Jun's apartment was meticulous; it always had been. Sometimes Sho wondered if the man's OCD was because of everything they'd been through in the last 10 years, the crazy schedules and the triple encores. Maybe it was. Maybe Jun was just like that.

The other man turned to him, gesturing towards the bathroom.

"No," Sho said. "You go first. It's your place."

From the frown, Sho gathered Jun wasn't pleased, but it had to be the strange tension between them that made him agree. He left Sho standing in his living room, unwilling to sit on any furniture for fear of soiling it. As he looked around, he sighed; he hadn't thought that decision out very well. He was stuck outside, now, with nothing to do while Jun cleaned up.

The water turned on behind the bathroom's closed door. Oh why oh why had he asked to go with Jun? It was all too much like the memory he was trying so hard to suppress- all too much wrapped up in things he didn't want to remember. Why hadn't he responded that day?

Sho knew what his bandmates thought of him. He was professional, arrogant. He was the one given the suits and the steel-toed boots. He was masculine- he was there with his rapping and his barely passable dancing. He was the one who, when kissed in the steam of the running shower while covered in powder, had frozen because he didn't think about the others that way.

He should have responded.

He'd been kicking himself for the three-second lapse in judgment ever since.

The water was still running in the shower, and Sho let his gaze fall on the handle of the door. He thought too much. He always had- overthinking and over-analyzing and beating a situation to death without ever doing anything within it, and then by the time it got to his response, he was overwhelmed with his own paranoia. Maybe he should just do it. Maybe he should do what he should have done years ago, standing in the same hot cloud of steam.

Sho turned his brain off, and opened the bathroom door.

When there was no response, he assumed Jun couldn't hear him. He stripped off his clothes, pausing a moment- it was either going to go well or... or he was going to get his ass kicked to next Tuesday. Probably the latter. Oh god, it was most likely the latter. He'd never hear the end of it and never be able to show his face on their shows again, and-

-he pulled aside the curtain and stepped in.

Jun whirled with a furious sputter of alarm, shock written across his features. He was actually midway through a swing with his fist before he realized who it was, and then he didn't move his hand, like he was debating whether to continue the arc. Sho wouldn't blame him for punching him in the face- he was standing in the shower with him, for the love of god. And even as angry as Jun looked, there was a pause; Sho could see the other man's chest heaving, see the cogs spinning, see the tiny, tiny bit of uncertainty in the murderous gaze.

He leaned forward.

It was like reverse deja vu when Jun didn't respond, even when Sho's mouth pressed lightly against his. The water was running down his face and hair, and Sho couldn't open his eyes for fear of getting pelted with the spray. He let the kiss linger just a moment, and then his stomach dropped. He pulled back, almost overcome with desperation and disappointment. There was a split second where he met Jun's wide-eyed gaze, feeling a sweeping heat of shame flood over his cheeks.

The split second felt like it lasted a lifetime.

And then Jun's hands were on his neck, demanding and controlling, and the other man was kissing him hard, with fervor. Just like everything else Jun did, it was perfect- or maybe it was just Sho's bias clouding his judgment. Jun pushed him backwards against the shower wall, tongue running across Sho's bottom lip in a heady demand for entrance.

"Ah," Sho said, mouth half-crushed against Jun's. "I'm still sticky."

The warmth against his lips moved to his jawline, to trail up to his earlobe. "You're going to be sticky afterwards, too."

Well.

Sho just hoped they didn't run out of hot water. And made a mental note as he found Jun's mouth again to give a little extra to the no-show plumber- man deserved it for inadvertently causing the entire thing.

Arashi- "The Chesuto Battle and How it was Won", Sho/Jun

2009-10-29T09:32:17Z

Title: The Chesuto Battle and How it was Won
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: Very R
Warnings: Abuse of battle cries. Language. Sexual situations. More fic spam, and I apologize.
Summary: As far as wagers go, it was one of their better ones.

Sho had the unfortunate habit of using his battle cry in the most bizarre situations.

When he successfully completed a meal on his own in "Sho's Five Minute Cooking Corner", he shouted it while pumping his fist in the air and gave half the audience a fright. When he beat Nino at Mario Kart after hours of playing and drinking, he chanted it around Nino's living room while avoiding the movies being chucked at his head. When he won a challenge requiring coordination, he exclaimed very loudly back in the green room and collapsed on the couch in glee.

Jun had come to expect these things- Chesuto had caught on, and the fans were beginning to expect it, too.

After awhile, they started prompting Sho for it at times when he would forget to utter the cry. Aiba loved to get Sho going when they were out drinking far too early in the morning, in a crowded bar, to see how many people would scream it back (it didn't matter that usually Aiba was the only one doing so). They'd get him during Shukudai-kun games, during HnA filming, when they were shooting PVs long into the night.

And then, one day, Sho abruptly stopped completely, and refused to say it again.

--

"I propose a wager," Nino said, with gleaming eyes one day while Sho was in the bathroom and the rest of them were seated in the green room. "First one to get Sho to say 'chesuto' again wins."

Jun's curiosity was piqued, but he played it off with a shrug of his shoulders. "What's the reward?"

"Dinner," was the answer. "For a month."

"From you?" Jun laughed.

Nino's smirk was positively evil. "From everyone. All the losers have to pay up."

"I'm in," Aiba said immediately, mind no doubt already fluttering with images of curry every night for 30 days.

Even Ohno seemed intrigued, shifting forward and furrowing his brow a little bit. "What are the terms?"

"Anything goes," Nino said immediately. "And the winner has to get Sho to confirm it."

Ohno bit his bottom lip, Aiba clasped his hands together and stared up at the ceiling, and Jun took a deep breath, thoughts spinning.

"Deal," Jun said, throwing his hand in the center.

The game was set.

--

The others played dirty.

Nino had been mum on the terms of cheating, probably because the little bastard had a dozen dastardly ways to maximize his own ability to win just waiting in the wings, so it seemed that anything really did go. Aiba brought in a non-fiction textbook of his dad's with the promise that Sho could keep it AND make copies of anything he found particularly useful. Nino offered a subscription to the New York Times to be delivered right to Sho's house (and Sho looked like he very much wanted to take that offer). Ohno came in one morning with a bento of fresh fish he'd caught with Sho's name on it.

Sho could have all of it- he just had to say the word. One single, tiny word.

And the man refused, sitting on the couch with his paper in his hands and his ankle propped up on his knee, like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Please," Nino said, from across the room.

Sho made a disapproving noise, shifting his papers.

"Please?" Nino tried again. "I'll- I'll talk to the producers about bringing T no Arashi back."

That caught Sho's attention. "Really?"

"Yes," Nino breathed, slinking forward like the cheating sneak he was, practically oozing across the carpet. "I promise."

Jun's breath caught in his throat as the whole room waited for Sho's answer- Aiba looked panicked, Ohno looked thoughtful, and Jun just tried to control his racing heartbeat. He didn't want to buy Nino dinner for a month. He didn't want to buy Nino anything, because he hated losing.

"Tomorrow," Sho said. "Ask the AD, and if he says yes, I'll say it tomorrow."

Nino looked positively gleeful. "Deal."

And Jun had 24 hours to avoid crushing, bitter defeat.

--

There was no time for plans. He had to get ruthless, and he had to get dirty.

He had to show up for Sho's News ZERO filming with absolutely no idea of what he was going to do other than a vague throbbing image in the back of his mind that tasted like he was 16 all over again. He had to wait until Sho was in his room once filming was over, washing off the stage make-up and running hands through his hair to free the strands from the gel.

Sho made a squeaking noise of surprise when Jun turned him around and pushed him roughly against the wall, hands hard on the man's shoulders.

"What-?" was all he got out before Jun was pulling his button-down shirt free from the waistband of his slacks, nails catching on the clasp holding the fabric together. "Jun-"

Sho's muscles were shaking when Jun's mouth found his stomach, the muscles of his abdomen, raining feather-light kisses on the hot skin there, skimming across his hips and his navel. He was making the most alluring noises in his throat- little hitching gasps and groans, especially when Jun let his palm graze across the front of his pants.

"What are you-?" he asked, breathless.

"Say it," Jun mumbled against his hip.

There was a second when he knew Sho's brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "What?"

"Just say it," Jun whispered. He could feel Sho's entire form trembling, but he had to give the man credit- he had resolve. He had willpower coming from some well that Jun couldn't get to, because he bit his bottom lip and shook his head.

But Jun wasn't out of tricks yet. He let his mouth rove just over the top of Sho's pants, pushing the waistband down just enough to slip his tongue beneath the material. He trace up the inseam of Sho's right pant leg with two fingers, slowing the further up Sho's thigh he got.

"No," Sho said, garbled. He drew in a shuddering, shaky lungful of air. "Jun, oh God-"

"What do you want?" Jun asked. He pulled Sho's slacks down a bit, just enough- enough that he had access.

Sho's knees were practically knocking against the wall behind him. "Oh please-"

Jun was close to winning- so close he could feel it. He let one finger run down Sho's already hard length, curving over the tip and looping back, and then he leaned forward to blow softly. Sho's legs nearly gave out.

"Jun."

"Say it," Jun said. "It's all you have to do."

He could see the struggle in Sho's eyes when the man stared down at him, lips slightly parted, palms pressed flat against the wall in a desperate attempt to hold himself upright. And just to seal the deal, Jun moved until his lips were barely touching the tip, just enough to dart his tongue out and make contact.

"Oh, fuck," was the groaned response.

"Sho-" Jun prompted.

"Yes," Sho gasped, hips bucking forward of their own accord. "Chesuto, yes, please-"

Victory was victory, and Jun was going to milk it for all he had. "I think you have to say it louder than that." It helped that one hand was wrapped firmly around the base, and that his tongue was slowly moving along the length.

"Chesuto," Sho repeated. "Chesuto, chesuto."

Well, since he'd won, the least Jun could do was give the man what he was begging for.

--

"No way," Nino hissed. "There is no way you won."

Jun wanted to savor how furious Nino looked. He wished he'd thought to bring a camera. "Ask Sho."

Nino was on his feet in a flash, stalking over to where Sho was seated on the couch as if trying to bury himself behind his newspaper. "Sho? Did he win? Is he telling the truth?"

Sho mumbled something that sounded like played dirty but he won and Jun just grinned down at his cell phone.

"I'm making a list of all the restaurants I've always wanted to try," Jun announced with a content sigh. "So get your wallets ready."

Hana Yori Dango/Gossip Girl- "Terms of Surrender"

2009-10-29T09:29:13Z

Title: Terms of Surrender
Fandom: Hana Yori Dango/Gossip Girl
Character, Pairing(s): Domyouji/Chuck Bass, F4
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Extreme, extreme crack. And Domyouji brain. This is Jamie's fault. This is part 1/3 of the big, big fic dump that I apologize for- I just forget to archive everything here.
Summary: Domyouji Tsukasa. Chuck Bass. And the battle of the limos.

The limo was shiny, glossy, and new, with chrome hubcaps that spun in the opposite direction as the wheels were turning and windshield wipers on the headlights. There was a spoiler in the back that jutted out past the rear bumper and diamonds encrusted around the license plate. It was flashy, it was big, and it was beautiful.

And Domyouji Tsukasa was more than a little angry.

"Who is that?" he seethed, from the balcony of the F4 lounge. He would not get up to see the "mysterious newcomer" out the windows; he had far more class than that. "Whose limo is that?"

"I don't know," Akira said, all wide eyes and disgustingly interested. "But it's nice- wow, is that nice."

It was not nice. It was obscene. It was a raunchy display of wealth that would not be tolerated because it was bigger and better than Domyouji's. Nobody had a bigger and better limo than Domyouji Tsukasa- nobody.

Soujiroh whistled between his teeth, leaning over the railing. "Think he'll take us for a ride?"

"No," Domyouji said, rising and slamming his fists on the table. "No one is going for a ride with him. No one comes in here thinking they can take over the rug out from under my hands."

"Feet," Akira corrected, and Domyouji ignored him (out from under his feet, ha! Akira was so stupid sometimes).

He pointed out the window, at the obscene ostentation going on in the turnabout just outside the school entrance. "Tomorrow. He gets the notice. Make it so."

--

He thought he would arrive at Eitoku the next day to the stupid newcomer blubbering helplessly in the corner while the entire student body threw eggs and raunchy lettuce at his head. When he didn't see the spectacle in any of the usual locations- the lounge, the cafeteria, the main stairwell- he went searching for the lesser known locales.

He ended up running smack into a crying kid with a bloody nose, and the disgusting stuff nearly got on his new leopard-print coat.

"What?" he said, to no one in particular (but people tended to answer anyway when he did that) and the kid was sobbing too hard to really answer. Domyouji watched him go and then turned, only to find a douchey looking guy with eyebrows that could rival Domyouji's own smirking a foot away from him.

"Are you Domyouji?" the newcomer asked.

"Obviously," Tsukasa huffed. He was rewarded with a crumpled piece of paper hitting him in the face. It didn't really hurt, but it startled him, because people didn't throw things in the face of Domyouji Tsukasa very often- unless they were right hooks. He stumbled back a bit and grabbed for the offending article. It was the red notice that had been hung in the newcomer's locker that morning.

And then the guy had the audacity to get in Domyouji's face, far too close for comfort, so close he could smell his CK cologne. "Chuck Bass does not get red notices. Make a note."

He walked away leaving Domyouji aghast, holding the crumpled notice in his hand.

--

Obviously, a new tactic was necessary.

Domyouji arrived the next day with his limo upgrade- three sun roofs, zebra leather seats, turbo engines, and a model for a driver flown in from France wearing a slinky red number (who made sure to bend over so far she was almost spilling out of the top when she opened Tsukasa's door).

"Chuck Bass" didn't even bat an eyebrow. And he was already seated at a table with three of the best looking girls in school.

Domyouji 'accidentally' dropped a flower pot on the table from the F4 lounge overhang.

--

The next day, his locker was completely covered in newspaper clippings of his mother with his own face superimposed over hers and horns drawn on each and every one with red marker. And then, across the article, was written "Battiness obviously runs in the family".

It was ridiculous. It was an affront to his very character- how DARE Chuck Bass try and compare Tsukasa to the old hag. Never in his life had Domyouji been so insulted by his very family line. And it was stuck on his locker with some form of industrial strength super glue that the minions he'd assigned to clean-up couldn't seem to get off.

It was a good thing Domyouji really didn't USE his locker, because at least he could ignore it. But he still festered and sulked the rest of the day, hurling a milk carton at an unsuspecting freshman in the halls.

--

Things were getting wildly out of hand.

None of Domyouji's intimidation techniques were working- he just kept getting the same "I'm Chuck Bass" repeated at him as if that meant something other than epic douchebaggery, and the guy still walked through the halls like he owned the place. He was utterly unaffected by everything Domyouji had thrown at him.

There was only one thing left to do.

And it required getting his hands dirty.

--

And the good news was that the spoiler from Chuck Bass' limo looked very good mounted on the wall of the F4 lounge next to the life-size poster of the foursome.

--

Domyouji didn't see Chuck Bass at school the next day. He regained his swagger and walked through the halls like he was untouchable- since he was- and ditched after fourth period because he felt a celebration was in order. He hadn't expected Chuck Bass' limo- looking a little worse for the wear after his boys had spray-painted a number of obscenities onto the sides- waiting for him just outside the foyer.

The window rolled down halfway. "I suppose this is where I give you the white flag."

"I don't want your flag," Domyouji snapped, but he was a little impressed despite himself (he didn't have a flag- maybe he should look into that).

"Maybe we should negotiate the terms of my surrender."

That sounded promising. Domyouji glanced at the defiled limousine and sniffed in disdain. "Alright."

The window lowered further. Why was Chuck Bass smirking when he had lost? "Why don't you come into my office for a discussion?"

When the door opened, Domyouji hesitated for only a moment before sliding inside. He was a bit dismayed- the interior of the limo was really very nice. It was superior to his own, though he would never admit that. He'd have to do some more upgrades to compete if anyone was going to be looking at the hand-stitching on the seats.

"What are you prepared to offer- mmgh!" Never before had he been cut off by somebody kissing him. In fact, he'd really never been kissed much before at all. He tended to punch people before they got close enough to do anything like that, and Chuck- well-

He was doing something particularly marvelous with his mouth, hands rough and demanding on Domyouji's jaw to hold him in place. When he nipped at Domyouji's lower lip and then smoothed the sting with a wide sweep of his tongue, Tsukasa had to moan and part his lips to give the other man access. There was really very little else he could do at the moment, and if he was going to be honest, nothing else he wanted to do, either.

His back was against the door and the handle was digging in almost painfully to his spine. Chuck broke off to nibble at Domyouji's ear- he needed to stop that, because the pangs that were moving through Domyouji's form were unnaturally powerful. And then Chuck's hands were sneaking in under his coat, to skim across the skin of his stomach.

"This-" Domyouji gasped, when Chuck's fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his Prada slacks. "-isn't surrender-"

"It's my form of surrender," Chuck whispered against the corner of Tsukasa's mouth.

Well.

--

Domyouji had to admit, the roof of the limo was particularly fetching too, since he'd gotten a nice, long look at it.

Needed another sun roof, though. It was terribly stifling inside.

Arashi- "Slipping", Nino/Jun

2009-10-27T05:48:50Z

Title: Slipping
Verse: Twitter RP
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Nino/Jun, mention of Nino/Toma
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, sexual situations. Takes place near the end of August 2009.
Summary: One night and one more time.

He was very good at rationalizing things- deciding what could go and what could stay, what was necessary and what was superfluous. He saw things for what they were; useless, troubling, and often unneeded. He was excellent at budgeting and allocating both time and money- for making the decision on what was more important and what could be ignored. He knew where the line was. He'd always known where the line was.

Jun was safe; or, at least, Jun used to be safe. When Jun was looking at Sho with puppy dog eyes, he was safe- because it didn't matter what Nino thought or felt, the threads could never join between them. And Nino liked to get lost under the pads of Jun's fingertips, to bury himself deep and let go. For a few minutes, he could pretend that things were different and that his heart didn't feel like it hammered in a hollow cave that reverberated of things that could never be.

At some point, Jun had stopped being safe.

And Nino knew what he had to do- he knew that he had to pull away. He had to distance himself because the slope was getting rapidly slicker and he'd lost his footing. He'd used Toma- god, he could finally admit it, even with the hot bile the thought brought up into his throat- and it hadn't worked, and he had to stop. He was going to fall and he would never be able to pick himself up again.

He could rationalize one more time- just once. Just once more to close his eyes and dig his fingernails into Jun's shoulders and go someplace else, where it wasn't a convoluted mess and his life wasn't under a constant microscope.

And god it was worth the reasoning when Jun did that little moan in the back of his throat, the one that hitched as he breathed and raised in tone, the one that always accompanied the breathy, whispered words Nino wasn't always sure Jun even knew he was saying. "Fuck. Close, fuck-"

It had to be the last time, he knew it with every damn fiber humming in his veins, it had to be, and he almost couldn't bear to walk away. He reached for Jun's face, digging his heels into his back just enough to draw out a hissing gasp, digging and pulling Jun up closer. If this was it- if this was everything-

"Don't come yet," he demanded. "Don't you dare come yet."

It had to be a struggle- Jun was already shaking, fighting against the onslaught. Nino moved him forward, pulled him up and deeper until they were eye to eye, and then he tightened every muscle he had around him, clenching.

"Now you can come," he whispered, and he got a moan almost immediately, a ripple under hot skin that he could feel, so hard it echoed in his own blood. He'd never really watched Jun that closely when he came. There was something gloriously beautiful about it, something primal; something that was dangerously close to absolute vulnerability in Jun's eyes when they were so close, mouth parted in a gasp. He wanted to remember every last second of it, every delicious moment. And he didn't wait to let Jun ride out the orgasm- just leaned in to capture his mouth once more.

Jun might have said something, but it was stolen by Nino's tongue sweeping across his lip. His fingers were still curled around Nino's own aching need, thumb circling over the head. Everything was way too intense- way too much. It almost hurt, but he didn't tell Jun to stop. He didn't want Jun to stop. "Just- faster-"

Faster, and slower- slower because then he could have a few more stolen seconds lying entangled between the sheets like they were. But Jun's hand was relentless, and so was the bubble in Nino's abdomen. He wouldn't get the extra moments- not tonight.

"Jun, fuck," he managed to grind out, rocking against Jun's palm, and Jun leaned forward to kiss his jaw, his ear, finding the sensitive spot just behind and sucking lightly.

Jun's breath played with the tendrils of hair near his cheek, lips brushing against skin, "Come, love."

"What, Jun-" and that was all he could get out as the panic gripped his heart at the same time the dam burst; he came in Jun's hand, sticky and shuddering and gasping for air. He felt like he was drowning and choking, stuck and painfully writhing. And when everything subsided, the pleasure left behind only the dull thud of his heartbeat in his chest that mirrored the pounding in his ears.

Oh no, and then the other half of his brain, the one he'd always been able to keep at bay, yes, yes, yes, please, yes-

"Jun," he whispered, and Jun wasn't saying anything. The other man moved away, shifting, pulling out with a hiss and curling up beside him, almost like a cat. But Nino heard it over and over again in his head like a mantra.

He tried swallowing- his throat was so thick. "Jun."

Play it off, please play it off- because if he did, they could laugh about it. They could laugh, and Nino could leave, and everything would stay how it was. Nino could handle the emptiness, even at its darkest; he couldn't handle the all-encompassing fear of letting someone in completely. But Jun didn't really say anything, didn't offer a giggle or apology, just let his fingers trace gentle circles over the skin at the back of Nino's neck.

Finally, Jun hummed a little, like he was clearing his throat. "Yes?"

"Did," Nino started, and was almost embarrassed how much his voice broke, "did you...?"

He knew what his brain needed to hear- and what his heart desperately needed Jun to say. And he honestly didn't know which was going to win, because all his finely stacked pieces, all his carefully rounded edges, they were coming apart like a thread unwinding from what used to be a sweater.

"And if I did?" came the half-muffled answer against his shoulder.

Nino turned, finding it impossible to focus. When had breathing gotten so difficult? "Jun, you..."

Finally- finally Jun looked at him, and it was just like meeting his gaze earlier had been, full of a thousand things he couldn't begin to describe and something shimmering that he so badly hoped was just the street light flickering in from outside. "Yeah, I did."

Nino had always thought it would feel like a deluge when he lost his hold- a hundred glass pieces falling to the floor in a horrible, rushing thud of disharmonious sounds, but it wasn't like that at all. It just felt like whatever control he'd had, it just slipped out of his fingers on the breeze. Simple. Hardly noticeable. He leaned forward to kiss him feeling like he might pass out from the giddy rush heading towards his brain. "I- love you, too. Since forever." And then he laughed against Jun's mouth, because of it had to go somewhere and he was practically trembling. "Jesus, Jun."

His mind was screaming at him. He was too far gone to spin the wheel in the other direction and break the skid.

Jun was laughing too, the breathless giggle when he really meant it, hands at the sides of Nino's face. "I have to love you to put up with you for so long."

Yes, yes, yes, and it wasn't until the next morning, waking up to the sun and the sudden realization of what had happened, that Nino felt the twinges of panic begin to take their hold back around his insides.

And when he was given the opportunity to push against the strings wrapped oh so tightly around his heart, he took it. He couldn't help it.

He lashed, because he couldn't breathe, hoping that somehow, the threads would give.

Arashi- "Fire and Brimstone", scene 6

2009-10-08T19:17:46Z

Title: Fire and Brimstone
Scene: 6
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): no pairings yet
Rating: T
Warnings: Some language, mostly frightening situations.
Summary: Few people will actually admit to a belief in things beyond explanation- in the supernatural, in the things that go bump in the dark. But us? Well, it's kind of what we do.

Yale University
Friday

It was a good thing that Sho was up anyway studying for his Macro exam, because there were never open washer and dryers at any normal time for people to be doing laundry. And as much as he complained (often silently, occasionally as a status update on Facebook) about the laundry situation in his dorm, the truth was that the laundry room was kind of nice around 1:30 AM, especially on Friday nights, when most of the kids were out getting trashed at parties.

He was well-aware that staying in Friday night to do his homework was probably the reason he was perpetually the UnCool kid, but- well, if he shoved his socks into the dryer with perhaps more force than was necessary, it was clearly in no way related. Economic theory wasn't going to get done on its own.

Sho sighed, and shut the door, swiping his card to put 45 minutes on the machine. His clothing began tumbling around behind the glass. He didn't want to go back to the room because Jun was sleeping, but there were a few shirts that needed to be air-dried and if he didn't hang them, they were going to get horrible lines in them, and then he'd have to redo the entire process again just to get them flat once more. His father's voice was telling him rather loudly in his head that nice clothes don't grow on trees, and he had to take care of them (much as he tried to ignore it, his father was in his head an awful lot).

The machines were rumbling, sending vibrations through the walls, and Sho picked up his laundry basket with his odd hang-dry items, shoving his student ID in his back pocket. There was a ping from across the room, like the trash can had hit the bricks; Sho turned, a little startled, and couldn't see anything odd. He'd likely just filled the dryer too full, and the machine was sending extra-strong reverberations through the floor. He stared at the trash can for a moment longer, and then edged up the stairs.

His Macro book made the basket heavy, but truth be told, he didn't trust his dorm-mates enough to leave it down in the laundry room. It was new, and he knew the sellback value of books; the Macro book alone would probably provide some freshman with a month's supply of beer money if they just crossed down to the campus bookstore.

Sho got halfway down the hall to his room when he heard the ping again.

He spun, laundry basket hitting the wall and his knuckles scraping against the nearest set of door hinges. There was nothing behind him, no one in the hall- Bellamy was quiet and deserted, and anyone who was already in for the night had their door closed.

But something was making him nervous, in the pit of his stomach, like the feeling he got before an exam he hadn't properly studied for.

Sho let out the breath he'd been holding slowly, taking one step backwards, and then another. When he finally got the courage to turn again, he got one step further and then the noise echoed behind him, through the hall- like a challenge. Like it was mocking him. And it was definitely behind him, and no longer in the laundry room.

Sho wasn't a wuss, but he also wasn't stupid. It wasn't that close to the time he used to wake up during, in the dead of night, but darkness was darkness, and he- he knew something was out there, even if he didn't know exactly what.

It wasn't looking to have a pleasant chat.

Another ping, and Sho started running. He probably looked crazy hauling ass down the hallway with his laundry basket slung under one arm, and he didn't even care. The noises were gaining behind him and he knew he couldn't turn around, he just knew he couldn't turn, because he'd see something, he'd see-

"-got to be the stupidest thing we've ever done," came a voice from down the hall, round the corner he couldn't see past. And all of a sudden the weight on his shoulders was gone- he knew whatever it was, it had fled. Hidden. Sho was no longer alone in the corridor.

"Well, we have to check, right?" came a second voice, and then a thud followed by a muffled "ow!" like someone had stubbed their toe on one of the door jams. "I mean, we can't go looking in every bar around campus."

Sho was two doors down from his room, breathing heavily, and frozen in place.

"There's no way he's going to be here," the first voice said again, and three figures emerged from around the corner, walking towards Sho's location. His first thought was that they looked relatively normal; they could have been guys who lived on the floor had Sho not known better (and known everyone who lived there, since they often ate dinner at the commons together as a house). And then all three stopped dead when they caught sight of him.

"Huh," said the one in the middle, with the short hair. "I told you so."

If Sho had been smarter and not in the middle of coming down off of a panic, he would have gone to his room and slammed the door in their faces, Jun sleeping be damned, but he just stayed where he was and eyed them as they approached him. The one on the left had a mop of unruly dark hair and suspicious eyes, but the one on the right was half-smiling; like he wanted to smile, but was afraid to be too happy, given the odd occasion.

"You have got to be kidding," Guy #1 said. He glanced in Sho's laundry basket, eyes sweeping over the Macro book. "Oh my god, you are kidding. You are doing homework on a Friday night? Do you not have a life?"

"It's practical!" Guy #2 argued. "Oh- well, are we sure this is him? Should we ask him?"

Guy #1 snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do we ask? 'Hey, are you the one with the bad nightmares'?"

"Not nightmares," Guy #3, the middle one, corrected.

"Whatever," Guy #1 waved him off. "The point is, spookies during the shut-eye hours."

Guy #2 gave Sho a look-over, stepping a bit too close for Sho's personal space (especially given the fact that he was staring at all three of them like they were the craziest people he'd ever laid eyes on, which was pretty much true anyway). He checked his eyes, his fingers, made a weird noise in the back of his throat, and might even have sniffed at Sho's collar. "But it's got to be him, right?"

"Well?" Guy #1 demanded. He was obviously looking for an answer, and he was obviously looking right at Sho with those eyes that required a response. "Are you?"

"What?" Sho asked. He'd never been more confused- and inclined to turn people in to campus security for being ridiculously, ridiculously suspicious- in his life.

Guy #2 was bobbing his head like whatever Guy #1 was getting at should have been terrible obvious. "Are you the one with the not-nightmares?"

Sho stared at them, one by one (Guy #3 in the middle would have seemed normal had he not been hanging out with clearly insane people) and tried to figure out when his world had fallen completely off its axis. "I'm Sho."

"Oh, great," Guy #1 said. "That's really helpful."

"I'm Aiba!" Guy #2 replied, holding his hand out. Sho didn't shake it- mostly because both hands were clutching the sides of his laundry basket like a sanity life line (it wasn't working). He really wanted to chuck it at their heads and run away, but his feet wouldn't move because they were right. They were completely and utterly right and he wasn't sure that he wanted them to know that just yet. "This is Nino," Aiba said, pointing at Guy #1, "and Ohno."

And Sho's mind was ticking a few seconds behind the events in reality, trying to process. "I-"

The ping from behind him sounded again, and he knew he wasn't crazy because all three of their heads snapped up at the same time his did. Sho did look behind him then, mostly out of instinct, and he sort of just let the first words that came into his brain tumble out of his mouth. "I think there's something following me."

"Oh, fantastic," Nino sniped.

"I didn't bring anything with me," Aiba said, and he looked worried. Sho didn't like that he looked worried. He didn't like that all of them looked worried.

Another ping, and Ohno drew something out from under his jacket while Nino turned to Aiba, clearly annoyed. "What do you mean you didn't bring anything? Why didn't you bring anything?!"

"Nothing was supposed to happen here!" Aiba all but wailed, flailing his arms a bit to either side. "We were just supposed to come and get him!"

"Sho," Ohno said, and for some reason, he sounded calm, despite the fact that he was holding out what appeared to be a bag of something, like a satchel. "Where is your room?"

It was only because Sho was rattled that he pointed towards the door marked 118. "Here. It's right here. It's right-"

Two pings and something that sounded like a coin rolling around, spinning, and then falling flat on its side on the tiles. Sho's heart was in his throat.

"So go in!" Nino cried, because all of a sudden there were footsteps, distinct footsteps, slowly moving down the hall even though there was obviously nothing behind them.

"My roommate is sleeping!" Sho tried protesting. It was weak, and he was already moving towards his door with his fingers outstretched.

"I think he's gonna wake up," Ohno said, seriously.

The footsteps started running.

Sho flung the door open and they all fell in behind him and someone hit the light- he didn't know who- and by the time Aiba slammed the door shut again, Jun was sitting up in bed with bleary eyes, running a hand through his hair. "What-?"

"Salt, now," Nino said breathlessly, and Ohno was already moving, making a ring of salt on the floor just inside the doorframe. "Got here when we did, son of a bitch- how did they beat us?"

Sho dropped the laundry basket and suddenly really didn't care about the Macro exam anymore. The thing- whatever it was- it sounded like things he would sometimes hear at night, just outside his vision. Like it was beyond what he could experience and see and touch but still there, lingering, waiting. And his insides were coiling and knotting again, all over again.

He had flashes of water, and shadows against flowered wallpaper.

"What is going on?" Jun demanded, moving, climbing down from his loft in his pajamas with his hair sticking up in every direction. "Who the hell are-"

"Window," Aiba said, pointing. The footsteps were on the other side of the door, and somewhere in the back of Sho's mind he registered that they shouldn't be hearing them- the hallways were carpeted.

The halls were carpeted.

"Oh my God," Sho whispered.

There was a pounding on the other side of the door- furious. Angry. The handle rattled like whatever it was wanted to get in and couldn't. Jun stared at the door with a horrified expression, and Nino moved to Aiba's side by the window, lifting the storm up and letting the cold air filter in. It was freezing outside, but Sho already had chills.

"Out, we go out," Ohno ordered.

"What are you talking about?" Sho exclaimed. For one thing, Jun wasn't wearing any shoes. "We can't just leave! What is that? Where are we going? Oh my God, what is going on?"

"Jesus, are you taking notes?" Nino cried. "Can you not hear that? We have to leave!"

Jun was moving faster than Sho was, and was already pulling shoes onto his feet. Apparently angry pounding on the other side and bizarre, crazy-spouting strangers were menacing enough to spur him into action. Sho just watched helplessly as Aiba crawled out of the window, dropping down to the ground beneath.

Ohno grabbed Sho's jacket from the closet and tossed it to him. "Here."

"We-" Sho started, and slung his arms through the jacket without really realizing that he was doing it. "We can't just leave!"

Nino dropped out of the window and landed hard on the ground next to Aiba, who was furiously motioning for the others to join him. "Come on, come on!"

And Jun did it without complaint or any further questioning, wincing a bit when he made contact with the frozen dirt below the opening.

Sho just kept staring at Ohno, poised near the door like he was going to be able to do something if whatever it was that was pounding got in. Whatever it was- oh God, Sho had a pretty good idea of what it was, only because of the way it made him feel. It was the same thing he'd seen when he was six. There was nothing Ohno could do against it- nothing.

"I don't-" Sho started, and then the door trembled violently, like something had thrown its entire weight against the frame. The hinges were rattling; they might give out. Ohno turned and practically pushed Sho at the window, which he somehow got out of with shaking extremities. Ohno jumped down behind him, and then Aiba was running, towards the parking lot, towards the street.

Sho was breathless by the time they stopped, Aiba fumbling with keys from his pocket. He didn't think it was behind them anymore; or if it was, he could no longer hear the echoing footsteps, could no longer feel the twisting in his gut.

"Get in," Nino demanded, sliding into the front seat and leaving Ohno, Jun, and Sho to the back. Sho slid into the middle without really caring that his knees were going to cramp something terrible sitting bitch.

When the car rumbled to life- the heap of junk didn't look like it would make it down the street, let alone across town- Sho turned to Ohno, still breathless and scared and unable to swallow the lump in his throat fully. "How did you know? About- about that I used to wake up in the middle of every night?"

"You do?" Ohno just asked back. He seemed unrattled; unaffected.

"Well, I haven't," Sho amended. "Not since coming back to school. But I used to. Every night. My whole life."

There was a long silence and Sho didn't get anything answered (not that he really thought he was going to anyway) and then Jun cleared his throat. "Who are you guys?"

"We're hunters," Aiba said.

"Hunters?" Sho asked. He could hear the capital letter- it was Important. It wasn't just a descriptive term, like oh we go buck hunting on the weekends and mount the antlers on our walls, it was a title. It felt like it commanded some respect- though Sho wasn't entirely sure what. "What do you hunt?"

The truth was, he didn't need to ask. He had a feeling there wasn't really a solid answer, and he'd gotten an explanation back in his dorm room; explanation enough, at least, and it was good enough for him.

Ohno just kind of smiled, looking both sad and content at the same time. "Everything."

"Where are we going?" Jun asked.

"We have a place," Nino said, which really didn't help at all. "But you've been marked."

Jun's knee hit the window, as did his fingers, like he was rapping against the glass a bit. "And you want us to help you... hunt whatever it was."

It wasn't a question.

"We could take you back," Nino offered. Even without the sarcasm, Sho knew it was a terrible option. He'd almost encountered the thing in the laundry room; what was to stop it in the dorm room itself?

Jun seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed a little, in the way that always meant he was annoyed and not going to admit that anyone else's point was correct- or even valid. "Fine."

Suddenly, the Macro exam seemed like a world away, another life, like something out of a dream. As the headlights of the car illuminated the road before them and the snow-dusted branches to the side of the winding road, Sho wasn't sure of anything anymore, except that there had been something back there, something bad, and they had somehow gotten away.

He wasn't sure if he could go back, or if he even wanted to. He wasn't sure if it would, in turn, hunt them.

Aiba turned on the radio, and Sho let his head fall back against the headrest, drifting into his own thoughts with the sound of George Strait strumming against his ears.

Arashi- "And a Cherry on Top", Nino/Toma

2009-10-07T00:52:52Z

Title: And a Cherry on Top
Verse: Twitter RP
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Nino/Toma, implied Nino/Jun
Rating: T
Warnings: Takes place in August of 2009. Angst ahoy.
Summary: It was a stupid wager, and it was even stupider to actually go through with it.

tomawithwings: What is it with you Arashi members? You're not going to seduce me! I can keep it in my pants, thanks.
_greatsuccess: Want to make a wager?
tomawithwings: ... how much?
_greatsuccess: Dinner for a week.
tomawithwings: Done. Do your worst.

--

If asked later, he wouldn't be able to say what caused him to make the stupid bet- fear, maybe, some driving force he was unable to wholly identify. There were a lot of psychological things swirling around that he was blatantly ignoring in hopes that they would go away. That they would drive off the awful, twisting feeling in his gut when he checked his phone every ten minutes, that they would push aside the happiness he felt at sleeping in 400 thread ct. Egyptian cotton sheets.

He had to get out before he was lost; he had to stop the freefall before he hit the ground.

It was stupid. It was mean, and it was downright petty, and if the awful roiling in his stomach would go away, it was the perfect way to keep his sanity- and heart- in check.

He pulled out his phone and found what he was looking for, typing in with quick motions he tried not to think too hard about.

Ice cream at my place?

--

"Nino?"

Never let it be said that getting Ikuta Toma to walk into a situation not entirely on the up-and-up was difficult; for someone who possessed a great deal of intelligence, he was extremely gullible. The lights were off in the apartment- and the guy still walked through the door expecting sprinkles on his ice cream.

"Nino?"

Nino let the door fall shut, clicking the lock. He could just see the outline of Toma from the street light streaming in through the window, and the other man turned, trying to figure out where Nino was in the shadows. "Where are you? And where's the ice cream?"

He stayed quiet as he moved towards Toma. He had the advantage; it was his house, his seduction, his furious attempt to do whatever it was that he wasn't going to think about. He knew how the world worked- and how it didn't. What didn't last, what wouldn't go in his favor. He had to extradite himself before he was hopelessly gone.

Toma shivered when Nino's hand hit his waist, Nino could feel it reverberate through his whole form. "What are you-"

"Ice cream," Nino whispered, and found Toma's jaw easily in the dark, kissing the skin lightly. He pushed himself higher, lips nipping at Toma's ear. "And a cherry on top."

"Nino," came the slightly breathless reply. "Wait, wait-"

But he'd already committed himself to it- he'd walked in to the apartment, and he'd sealed his fate. Nino turned his head just so their mouths met; just a little, just a taste, just enough to run his tongue over Toma's bottom lip. Toma groaned and his mouth parted and that was all the invitation Nino needed.

He pulled Toma forward, just enough to grind their hips together.

Toma wrenched his mouth free, but it didn't seem to be because he was leaving- on the contrary, his fingers were curling around Nino's shoulders seemingly of their own accord. "Nino."

"Yeah," Nino replied, without really agreeing to anything. "I think you're going to lose."

"I-" Toma started, and whatever he had meant to say, it was lost when Nino's hand unbuckled the button of his jeans and swept beneath the waistband of Toma's boxers.

--

Later, he stared at the ceiling for a long time, at the patterns that the ceiling fan made on the mottled surface. He liked Toma- it wasn't like he had to pretend. They went back a long way, they knew each other for a long time. Toma was a nice guy; great sense of humor, fantastic smile.

But that didn't stop the guilt from wrapping around his stomach and eating away at his insides anyway. Toma was snoring softly, breathing rhythmic and even. Nino turned over to the shelf next to the tangle of sheets, reaching for his phone.

1 unread message.

Nino stared at the screen for a long time, finger hovering over the green button, and then closed the mobile with a snap, leaving it unopened.

The envelope icon mocked him until the sun came up the next morning, blinking like a beacon, like it knew the manner of all his sins.

Maybe it did.

As Toma groaned and stirred, Nino wondered when he'd swallowed so many hot needles.

Arashi- "Close and Very Close", Sho/Nino

2009-10-05T04:17:15Z

Title: Close and Very Close
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Nino
Rating: PG
Warnings: Shameless use of sugary confections ahoy.
Summary: For nicefinalbeam , since Ohno was sort of getting the nasty, pointy end of the shaft at the Twitter RP and she was agonizing over what to do with him. ~____^ <3 <3 !!!

They are very close when Sho helps him with his tie.

There's such an odd line between close and very close- the line gets bumped and dragged and stretched at very concert, in every photoshoot, shuffled and sorted until it's not really a line anymore so much as a barely perceived sort of assumed boundary- but it's still there, tangible and heavy in the air between them. So often it's disregarded, at least in terms of Aiba, who seems to forget daily that there even is a line, or with Ohno, who has simply never cared about it, but not usually off the set of group filmings or outside of the cameras rolling.

Sho doesn't usually step across it; not that lightly, not that easily, and when he does there is usually a reason for doing so. It's just like there is a difference between like and like- the nudge that pushes the emotion one step further, one step past where it ought to be.

It's one of those things that you know but don't know, understand but can't explain, all rolled into the same gut feeling that twists and turns a little bit at the most inconvenient times.

Nino lets his gaze rest somewhere else, because looking straight ahead would be awkward. Sho fixes his tie with deft expertise, and then pats down his collar like part of a total package experience.

"You should eat more," he says.

"Am eating," comes the reply, that's more of a lie through clenched teeth than anything else, since Nino is on set with him every damn day and is more than capable of noticing things on his own. "Don't worry about me."

Which is a stupid thing to say really since Nino does worry, Nino has always worried, because Sho takes things so personally and internalizes them until he can find a way to fix it or move past it. Back-handed comments, statements from the higher-ups; he wishes they could see the way they grind into the clock-work turns of Sho's brain and cause it to spin backwards, so they would stop doing it so often.

Sho just pats his shoulder a bit in a dismissive way and effectively ends the conversation, since the filming is about to start and they are finally in their uniforms. "Let's go."

--

Nino doesn't cook- and won't even pretend to- but it's easier than he expected to get the others in on it, at least enough to volunteer food. Jun brings some kind of sweets rolled up in bread that looks half-disgusting (since he's sure there's something healthy in there, somewhere) and half-delicious, and Nino takes them in with him to filming the next day.

Sho largely ignores the container the entire time and Nino is quickly running out of ways- bar actually shoving the food in Sho's mouth himself- to get him to at least eat something, rather than run himself so ragged like he's doing, creating little lines by his eyes that counteract any excuse he tries to give. And then he wonders, well, why not just shove the food into Sho's mouth, since it wasn't exactly unknown territory and he was losing time rapidly anyway.

He corners Sho in the dressing room, where he's sort of crouched behind one of the racks and slipping his jacket off his shoulders.

"When I go to all the trouble to bribe people into giving me treats," Nino starts, leaning a bit on the rack- one of the hangers hits his arm and it hurts, but not too bad, more like a scratch, "I sort of expect you to eat the food I brought."

Sho looks at him and there's not really anything there in the expression, just sort of blank and obviously tired and it hurts more than the scrape on Nino's arm does. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't really feel like it."

"There's a difference between not really feeling it and not doing it because someone made a stupid comment," Nino snipes.

"What?" Sho asks, and so it's not very much but it's sort of everything anyway, enough to break the resolve and quiet and 'I am going to do this slowly' manner Nino had thought he would use, because he grabs for the stupid box of stupid Jun treats and opens the lid. There's some kind of frosting and he knows it has to be sweet, so he sweeps a finger through it and gets it on his finger, enough to taste- not for him.

He holds his finger out in front of him, inches from Sho's nose. "Try it."

"I don't want to," Sho says, maybe because it looks really damn unappetizing on Nino's finger, which okay, he can admit, but still, the point is that it's food and it's sugary and it's good.

"Don't make me force you," Nino tells him.

When Sho still doesn't do anything, Nino leans forward and unfortunately, Sho has some crazy ninja reflexes going on because he manages to dodge the cream headed for his mouth; it hit his cheek instead and smears white across his skin and that's alright, Nino has another hand and he tries with that instead.

They end up sort of tangled up on the back wall- Sho has a pretty good grip on Nino's freshly dessertified hand- and there is that line again, that line between close and very close, and Nino is hyperaware that he had just crossed it. Or Sho had; it really doesn't matter, since it's lying in pieces at their feet anyway, but worth noting.

"Try it," Nino demands, finger coming dangerously close to Sho's mouth. "Just try it."

"Nino," Sho chokes out. He pushes at Nino's hand but Nino's got a good grip with his heels on the rug beneath them, and he's not moving anywhere. But Sho's pushing his hands back, and even though his body isn't moving, his frosting-covered fingers are, and he's not getting closer to what he wants to be doing.

Shock tactic time. Nino leans forward to kiss Sho's mouth instead.

That works well; Sho immediately freezes and he's very pliable when he's surprised that badly, Nino can just push his tongue in as he pleases, teasing and toying, and Sho's fingers loosen from his wrists. So he pulls back away even though it was a rather pleasant experience he wouldn't mind repeating, and sticks the frosting in Sho's still-parted lips.

"I said try it," he sing-songs.

Sho just kind of stares at him and doesn't seem inclined to lick the frosting off, and for a long moment Nino starts having very intense regrets- when had the line snapped back up between them like a screen?- until Sho rather violently spits his finger out and lunges for him again, hands on the side of Nino's face to hold him in place when their mouths meet.

Not exactly how Nino had expected it to go down, really, behind one of the racks with- he has to be honest, the ugliest uniforms from the set- but he isn't exactly complaining, and they still have the whole tub of treats.

--

He dumps the empty container on Jun's lap, a day later.

"So how were they?" Jun asks.

"Oh, awesome," Nino replies, with a wicked grin and a waggle to his eyebrow. "Really sweet. Maybe a little heavy on the cream though- I'd use less next time."

Arashi- "Premiere Party"

2009-10-04T23:00:40Z

Title: Premiere Party
Verse: Twitter RP
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): no pairings, everyone (including bonus!Domyouji)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crack, and this probably makes no sense unless you are either following the Twitter RP or part of it, but it's probably funny anyway.
Summary: What does July mean? Harry Potter premiere party, of course.

"These socks itch," Sho said, for the fifteenth time. "Why am I always the girl?"

"Your great legs?" Nino offered, tugging at his own scarf- it was five sizes too large and kept dragging on the floor, and Aiba had assured him that 'they didn't come in any other sizes, Nino-chan, it was one size fits all!' which really just translated to the fact that Nino was too short to attend Hogwarts and be able to walk without tripping. At least he had his wand; he'd already smacked Jun with it three times.

They were stuck in line, but at least they were inside the theater where it was air-conditioned, because it was muggy and hot outside, and they were wearing full robes. Ohno was carrying a sword- why he'd shown up with a sword, Nino really didn't know.

"Awesome," Sho grumbled, tugging at his skirt as if pulling it- as if!- was going to make it cover more of his thighs. "Is this line ever going to move?"

A girl approached them, looking confused. "Who is he supposed to be?" she asked, pointing to Ohno, who was kind of staring at his sword with a rather lost expression on his face.

"Godric Gryffindor," Nino said, waving her away. Last thing they needed was somebody recognizing them- he'd thought they'd been a bit too open with the whole Twitter thing about the premiere party, but the theater was a bit out of the way, and so far, no one had really seemed to notice their presence.

"Oh!" Aiba exclaimed suddenly, bouncing on his toes. "Oh! The line is moving!"

"Finally," Jun and Sho sighed at the same time. Nino took the opportunity to whack them with his wand again (Sho in the back of the legs, because come on- that bare skin was just begging to be smacked with something that would sting).

They filed into the theater and Nino shifted the large soda in his hand to the other one, hoping to get some feeling back in his numb fingers. As they reached their seats and he started to file in after Sho, his phone vibrated in his pocket. And then he noticed some weird dude sitting in the row just in front of them in a huge, gaudy leopard coat.

He was a bit too focused on the fact that someone actually had the gall to wear a giant leopard coat into a theater- in the middle of summer, what the hell?- and sort of misjudged where the leg of the seat was.

"Oops," he said helplessly, as Sho started sputtering madly and screaming something about how his entire lap was suddenly covered in Mountain Dew (what a baby).

"Oh no!" Aiba said, standing to Nino's left as Nino dropped down into the seat- dammit, it creaked, it was going to squeak every time he shifted his weight. "Oh, Sho, wait I have napkins-"

And there went Aiba's popcorn, into the fluffy hair of Mr. Leopard Coat in front of them.

"Wow," Nino commented, because buttered kernels were stuck in the guy's (oh so obvious) perm. He reached forward to grab one, popping it in his mouth and munching on it. "Aiba, you got way too much butter."

Down the row, Jun was swatting at Ohno's sword, which kept hitting him in the face when Ohno turned around and around trying to position himself so his scarf wasn't stuck in the seat joints. And Sho was still trying to soak up all the soda covering his already short-skirt.

"This is awful," Sho moaned, giving up and throwing the sopping napkins on the floor. "The movie hasn't even started yet."

Nino just shrugged, watching Aiba apologize profusely to the guy whose hair was currently substituting as a popcorn bowl. "Hey, Sho."

"What?"

"Snape kills Dumbledore."

Arashi- "Fire and Brimstone", scenes 3-5

2009-10-02T19:03:35Z

Title: Fire and Brimstone
Scenes: 3-5
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): no pairings yet
Rating: T
Warnings: Some language, mostly frightening situations.
Summary: Few people will actually admit to a belief in things beyond explanation- in the supernatural, in the things that go bump in the dark. But us? Well, it's kind of what we do.

March 12, 10:35 PM
Just outside El Paso, Texas
4 years ago

He'd never gotten a phone call like that from Mable before.

I need your help. It's an emergency. Hurry.

He hoped it wasn't the kittens they'd picked up from the river in a trash bag; he'd already cried over the fact that someone put them there in the first place, he didn't need to watch them die. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white as he pulled into the gravel parking lot of the veterinary clinic. It was dark save for the light on in Mable's office, visible through the small window at the corner.

That was weird. If it was an emergency with one of the animals, the lights in the lab should be on- unless he was too late, and the emergency had passed?

He couldn't think about that, he really couldn't. All the animals inside were sweet and wonderful and loving; they would lick his hand when he petted them and whimpered a little when he had to administer shots. He couldn't bear losing any of them.

He was shaking a little as he got out of the car and rapped his knuckles against the front door. It was locked, but Mable had called him- she had to let him in, after he'd driven all the way out so late. He had school tomorrow (and a test that he had not studied for at all).

"Mable?" he called, and then the door opened, his mentor on the other side, wild-haired and holding a large, tattered book in her hands. She didn't say anything, but ushered him inside quickly, closing the door and latching it behind him. Latching it? She even double-checked it afterwards, and then went straight back into her office without another word to him.

He stared at the lock for a long moment before following. "Is it the kittens? Is it-"

His voice died away when he got to her office. Mable was a clean woman- orderly, liked to have everything in its place. But her personal space was in complete disarray, boxes everywhere, papers strewn across the desk. There were vials and satchels on the far counter top, half-opened, some spilling out. And there was something burning across the room that was pungent, but not necessarily bad.

"What..." he tried, heart suddenly clogging his throat. "What is this? What's going on?"

Mable didn't answer. She was bent over a hot plate in the corner, where something oily-smelling was simmering. He watched as she took an eye-dropper and carefully put in three different liquids from various open jars next to her. The scent of the mixture took on a sweet, slightly acrid tone, and she poured it from the pan into a smaller glass jar.

"Here," she said, handing the jar to him; it was still hot, and he had to juggle it between his hands to avoid burning his fingertips. "Put it on; inside of the wrists, collarbone."

"What?" he asked.

"Do it," she ordered. She began digging around in books, shuffling through papers. When he continued to stare at her without touching the mixture in his hands, she gave him another sharp glare, braids falling around her shoulders. "Masaki, do it."

He'd never heard her speak that harshly before. Mable was a large, intimidating woman, but she was gentle and kind with the animals, and he loved working from her. He was always learning new things, like the place to touch a horse's leg to get it to raise its hoof. But this- she seemed rattled. Still professional, still focused, but- shaken.

"What is this?" he asked, as he put the concoction in the places she'd told. It was definitely oil-based, kind of like she'd melted Vaseline or something down. It was a bit hot still. And it smelled- but not bad. It was kind of comforting.

"Mallow, Rosemary, and Vervain," she said.

Masaki glanced over at one of the books open on the table. There was something strange drawn in the pages, a star. But not a normal star, like the ones he doodled in the margins of his notebook during English lectures. A star with a circle around it, and symbols next to it.

"Mable," he started, voice cracking a little (thankfully, he knew Mable would never tell anyone later that he apparently was still going through puberty in high school).

"You been readin' the paper?"

Paper? The newspaper? "Only when I'm bored at breakfast with the back of the cereal box," he answered honestly.

"We're huntin' tonight," she said. She pulled something out of a box and approached him with it, looping it around his neck. It was a chain, a dorky-looking necklace. He pulled it out from his chest to examine it, and found the charm was the same odd-looking star he'd seen in the book.

"What is this?" he asked.

She waved at him a bit. "Pentagram. For protection."

Well, it certainly wasn't going to protect him from getting his ass pounded during gym the next day if he showed up wearing something like that. He was starting to get an inkling of what was going on. They didn't exactly live in the most lenient of places- there was still a lot of bigotry and intolerance, and she was definitely, most definitely doing something that related to things not Christian in nature.

"Mable," he tried again.

"You read 'bout the attacks?" she insisted. "The coyote?"

He hadn't needed to read about those; the whole town was talking about it. Teenage kid getting ripped to shreds in the woods outside of town. "We're hunting a coyote?"

"Not a coyote," Mable said. She pulled a knife out of a drawer that glimmered in the flickering candlelight, and Masaki swallowed hard.

"I have a geometry test tomorrow," he tried, lamely.

Mable just gave him another of those glares, the ones he couldn't shuffle out of but that made him want to break eye contact with her. He shifted his weight between his feet a little. "You came anyway," she said. And then after a moment, added, "You gonna leave?"

He let his gaze move around the room, to the candles on the ledge, and the stick of smelly stuff burning on the cabinet. His fingers clenched around the pentagram hanging beneath the collar of his shirt, cool against his skin. He thought about the kittens in the trash bag, and the knife in Mable's slightly gnarled hands. He also thought about his barely passing grade in Mr. Syke's geometry class, but not for very long.

He shook his head. "No."

"Good," Mable said. She slipped the knife into the pouch around her shoulder. She pulled out another knife and handed it to him. "You'll need this."

Masaki stared down at the weapon in his hand. "Is this silver?"

"Yes."

He swallowed very hard. "Mable, what are we hunting?"

And she just flashed him a grin, all white-teeth and something dark he couldn't quite touch.

"Let's go," she said. "Last night of the lunar cycle."

--

Piedmont, West Virginia
1 year ago

Ohno sat in the car for a long time, watching the entrance. He could do it the hard way or the easy way, and he only chose the easy way because he didn't need any batteries- gas stations always jacked the price up so much more. He was pretty sure the shifts were ending, and he'd gotten a smoothie from the Orange Julius down the street to drink while he waited.

After about ten minutes, his target came outside. Dark hair, short, hands jammed down into his coat pocket. The second Ohno stepped out of his car he could hear the music blasting from the man's headphones. Had to be half-deaf if he kept listening to it that loud.

The guy didn't look up until he was a foot away from Ohno, who had walked in front of his path and stopped there, sucking frozen sugary drink up the straw. He waited until his target stopped, pulling the ear buds free. He frowned.

"'Scuse me," he mumbled.

"Mm-kay," Ohno said. "You heading home?"

The guy gave him an incredulous look, fingers playing with the headphones in front of his chest. "What are you, the Inquisition?"

"I don't burn people," Ohno said, helpfully, and then, after a moment of thought, added, "usually."

There was a moment of silence, and then a disbelieving, mirthless laugh, and the guy pushed past him. "Jesus Christ, hillbillies..."

He started walking across the parking lot, so Ohno followed, slurping on his drink. It took about a minute before the guy noticed he was being tailed, and then he turned again. His eyes looked a lot darker- suspicious. On edge. Ohno waved a little at him when he met his gaze once more.

"What do you want?" the guy asked.

"To talk," Ohno said.

Another of those joyless laughs. "Don't wanna talk to you, sorry. Not interested in finding Jesus or giving money to the soup kitchens."

"Whatcha got in your pockets?" Ohno asked.

That stopped him again, even though he'd been turning to leave, shoving the ear buds back into place. He paused for a few seconds and then turned, very slowly, almost threatening. Ohno could see one hand slip from the headphones and disappear into the pocket of his coat. It was a smooth movement- good, even. But Ohno was used to things that fought back.

"What do you want?" the man asked.

"I know why you carry salt with you," Ohno said. He slurped up the last of his drink, shaking the cup a little. The straw gurgled and sputtered with the last of the liquid. "Ack, gone. Should have gotten the large."

His target was shaking a little, suppressed anger. Ohno had no doubt caught him way off-guard. "How do you know that? Are you following me? Watching me? You don't know anything about me-"

"Mmm, well I do know some things," Ohno admitted, shrugging. "I know you swipe stuff from the electronics store and sell it. And I know you're going to get caught."

Eyes flickered back towards the entrance. They were far enough away from the double doors that it was unlikely anyone inside could hear the conversation, but just the small movement solidified everything in Ohno's mind. He had him on the edge now, on the ropes.

"I'm not gonna get caught," came the reply through clenched teeth.

"Okay," Ohno said. He would- probably soon, too. Maybe in a couple of days.

But the guy didn't turn to leave, so Ohno stuck his hand out. "I'm Ohno. Satoshi."

"Yeah, and you're leaving."

"Mm," Ohno agreed. "But you're coming with me."

From the double door store entrance, two other employees came out, with blue shirts still tucked into their pants. The guy watched them with hard eyes, and after a few minutes, wet his lips a little bit. He was clearly nervous, or approaching nervous, or maybe just thinking about the fact that he should probably be nervous.

Ohno couldn't tell. He was better with darker things.

"What do you know?" the guy asked, quieter.

"I know I'm kind of hungry," Ohno admitted. "There was a noodle joint down the road I saw. Want some noodles?"

"What?"

Ohno tried holding out his hand again. "What's your name?"

Still nothing but the incredulous look on the guy's face. For a person who carried dispatching tools around in his coat, he sure was a hard sell. Ohno tried wiggling his fingers a little bit. Sometimes it worked with the beasties.

"I like noodles," he explained.

After a long moment, the other man put his hand out as well, gingerly shaking Ohno's fingers, like he didn't want to touch him all the way. "Nino."

"Hi, Nino," Ohno said, warmly, smiling at him. "There's a family here who claims to be experiencing some knives flying around the kitchen."

Nino's expression changed, only fractionally. "Thought you said you wanted some noodles."

"Well, I like to take on poltergeists with a full stomach," Ohno replied.

He started back towards his car, reasonably sure that Nino was going to follow. He was right. When he slid into the driver's seat, Nino fell in the passenger side next to him. "You ever come up against a poltergeist before?" Nino asked.

"No," Ohno said. "But you have."

He was just about to drive out of the parking lot when he stopped, frowning at the wheel. A second later, following the silence, Nino flicked his hand up a little bit in a gesture of mild irritation. "Well? What is it?"

"I do need batteries after all," Ohno sighed. "You mind running back in?"

--

Room 114, Bellamy Hall, Yale University
4 months ago

As his printer squeaked out ink across the final page of his class schedule, Sho flipped through the pages of the book he'd already gotten. RLST 126: Tibetan Buddhism. As an elective, probably one of the more eclectic he'd taken. But poring over the pages of the book- used, with some highlighter marks in the first couple of chapters- he was already intrigued by it, pulled by the subject material. Maybe some day he'd figure out what all of it meant. Maybe someone would eventually have some information for him- until then, he'd be stuck taking Religious Studies classes whenever he had a semester low in credit hours, hoping to find some answers. Or something.

If he could just find a way to stop waking up every night as the clock ticked towards 3 AM- well, then life would be just fine. He could get a full 8 hours of sleep, and not spend time lying in bed thinking he could hear things just outside his range, on the outskirts of his comprehension.

The printer flipped out the last page, and he pulled up Firefox on his laptop. He should go and greet everyone else on the floor- first time out of the Honors dorms, and he really didn't know anyone, but there was only so much more of the late night "Latin conjugation" parties and 7 PM quiet hour starts that he could take. His side of the room was organized, put together, and ready to start the new semester.

He absent-mindedly flipped through a few websites. The usual- email, Facebook, paranormal blogs. Okay, maybe not so usual. Sho wasn't stupid (no matter how many times his siblings told him so), and he knew enough to keep his "bizarre and unusual fascination", as his father called it when scoffing that Sho wasn't more interested in the stock market's recent decline (which he was, just not quite as much) under wraps.

The last thing he needed was his roommate thinking he was a complete spaz.

Or some goth freak who wore thick eyeliner or something.

As if on cue, there was a rap of knuckles against the door, propped open to help the hot August air circulate through the room. Sho quickly minimized his internet browser window, heart leaping into his throat a bit. "Hey," he called.

"Hi," was the response, and the figure moved inside with a half-hearted little wave. "I'm Jun."

"Okay," Sho said. There was a moment of silence, and then realization dawned on him. "Oh! Oh, you're my roommate. Right, sorry. Hi, I'm Sho."

He reached his hand out, but Jun's hands were full- two bags draped over his shoulder, a box tucked under his arm, and a pillow dangling from his fingertips. Sho shrugged a little, moving back and sitting down again, letting Jun deposit his things on the other bed.

"I hope you don't mind, I took this one," Sho said, pointing to his own mattress.

Jun just gave him a perfunctory glance. "Sure."

"Okay," Sho said again, mostly to himself. Jun didn't seem like talking much, and he never again glanced over in Sho's direction. So maybe not he friendliest person to be sharing tight quarters with, but it could have been worse- could have come in with Creed posters or a football jersey that already stank of sweat and locker room fungus.

He waited for awhile as Jun set up his things and started unloading from the bag he'd been carrying, drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk.

"So, what's your major?" he asked.

"Psychology."

Interesting. Better than something like BioChem at least- Sho wouldn't feel like an underachiever. And psychology, maybe Jun had taken some classes that might be interesting.

Watching his roommate unpack, Sho wasn't entirely sure the guy would feel up to sharing any information any time soon. "Cool."

"So, you new to the dorm?" Sho continued.

Jun pulled out a t-shirt from his bag, re-folding it on his bed. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes barely visible through dark tresses. "Lived at home for a few years, you know, to save money."

"Yeah," Sho said. He glanced back at his laptop, at the paranormal blogger minimized on the task bar. Home- home where his father just shook his head when Sho came home with books from the library with tips on dealing with insomnia, home where his mother would smooth his hair away from his head and tell him that he'd grow out of the "nightmares". "Yeah."

"You using all the drawers?" Jun asked, gesturing towards the dresser.

"Oh, uh, no," Sho replied.

He watched as Jun started putting the rest of his clothes away, and when it appeared his roommate was going to say nothing more to him, went back to checking out his RSS feeds.

Having a quiet roommate wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, after all.

Arashi- "Fire and Brimstone", scenes 0-2

2009-09-30T06:45:15Z

Title: Fire and Brimstone
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): no pairings yet
Rating: T
Warnings: Some language, mostly frightening situations.
Summary: Few people will actually admit to a belief in things beyond explanation- in the supernatural, in the things that go bump in the dark. But us? Well, it's kind of what we do.
Notes: This is inspired so much by Supernatural, but by a lot of other things, too. It's pulled a lot in from the show, some from Buffy, a bit from some of my favorite books, and then stuff from all over the map. It doesn't exactly have "chapters" as much as it is comprised of "scenes" and there really isn't a set length; one could be 500 words, another 4000. They will all be cut individually and numbered. (If they are short, there will probably be multiple scenes posted at once!) Look, I tried to get people to talk me out of this, and no one did. ;P

June 21, 2:53 AM
Newfound Lake, New Hampshire
15 years ago

His tummy hurt.

It was very dark in the room- darker than his room at home, where his Snoopy nightlight illuminated the far corner with a blue hue. He didn't like the dark, but he didn't want to complain, because Daddy was tired from work and Mommy had lines around her eyes. Grandma had given him a cookie, and it had been delicious (he liked sweets, but he liked veggies, too, only he didn't tell anyone this because he had learned in school that it was Not Cool), but he wished he'd said something about the darkness before getting tucked into bed. He didn't like it. It felt weird.

He tried rolling over and mashing his face into the pillow- at least he'd been allowed to bring that, because it smelled like home- but it didn't really work. His tummy was still unhappy, and he couldn't fall back asleep. He didn't like the bigness of the room at the lake house; he wanted his own room again, even if he didn't have a racecar bed yet (but he would in a couple of weeks if he was good and cleaned his room every day).

There was a squeaky noise from the hall, like when he stepped on one of the boards Grandma warned him about, and then the door to the bedroom made a click. He sat up, because he was sure Daddy had latched it when leaving. His chest felt very, very tight as the door creaked open, and little bits of light spilled in from the hallway.

"Mommy?" he whispered. He didn't see her, and he didn't hear anything, either, and she made louder squeaky noises on the floor than he did.

Something moved along the wall. It looked-

-it looked like a puppy, or the shadow of a puppy moving against the flower wallpaper of the hallway.

Sho pushed himself up on his knees, staring into the opened corridor. What was a puppy doing in the house? Grandma didn't have a puppy, and neither did he. If he caught it, maybe Daddy would let him keep it, because he'd always wanted a puppy, and it would give him something to talk about during Show and Tell (especially if he got to bring the puppy into school!).

He got out of bed, heels hitting the cold floor, and started after it. The shadow in the hall had moved down and towards the stairwell, so that's where he went. The lake house was very, very quiet- he'd never been in a house so quiet. It was kind of scary, but he thought maybe the puppy was in trouble, or hurt, and he didn't want it to be afraid. He'd let it sleep in his bed, under the covers, and maybe no one would notice the next morning that it was there.

The top of the stairs was barely illuminated by one of the lamps Grandma left going in the hall.

He peered down to the base, but couldn't see anything moving. And something smelled kind of burnt, like cookies left in the oven too long. Sho sniffed at the air, and thought about going back to bed. Then there was another shadow at the base of the stairs, and he went down after it.

It was very dark, and kind of scary, and the front door was open- maybe that was how the puppy got in. It had come from outside, by the lake. Sho pushed his hands against the screen and half-stumbled outside, onto the deck. It wasn't really that cold, but the air was very still. He still couldn't see anything other than the moon in the sky reflecting off the surface of the water.

Where was the puppy?

"Flash," he called out, tentatively, because that was what he had already decided to name it when he found it in the darkness. Flash was a much cooler name than Lucky or Spot. He surged forward, off the deck, heels hitting the cool, slightly damp blades of grass just off the walkway. "Flash!"

There, at the end of the dock- the puppy shadow again. But it was getting darker because there were clouds covering the moon up, and he was a little scared. He paused for a moment, still lingering near the deck. He could go back up to his room, and maybe look for Flash tomorrow.

A drop of rain hit his forehead, and he looked up to the sky.

"-o," came a whisper on the wind next to his ears. Without the moon, he could barely see. And there were goose bumps under the sleeves of his Superman pajamas because it had suddenly gotten very cold. But he froze, listening. "-o."

"Mommy?" he whispered.

And then, clearer, just like she murmured as she kissed him goodnight while tucking him in, "Sho-"

He moved, towards the edge of the water, towards the pier that they had the boat tied to. It was starting to rain harder, and his hair was already kind of wet and sticking to his face. And it was dark, so dark, why was Mommy out in the dark by the water? Was the puppy a present for him? He had been awfully good recently, helping out since he was going to have a new brother or sister soon, maybe it was a reward for already being a good Big Brother (he already knew that the task was a Very Important one).

The pier was a little slippery from the rain, but he could still hear Mommy's voice. "Sho-"

"Mommy?" he called. Everything was dark, but then he saw something at the end of the boards, and he ran down them to see what it was. It was something in the water. It was raining a lot harder, and he couldn't really see, but he knew there was something, so he bent over to look at it. It was just out of reach, whatever it was.

He reached.

And something very cold grabbed his hand and pulled him forward into the lake. It hurt when he hit the water, like a belly-flop. He hadn't gotten a big breath of air before going down, and he already hurt all over, and he couldn't breathe. Something was pulling him under the water, something was pulling him down, and it wasn't Mommy, and it wasn't a puppy-

He couldn't scream because he couldn't breathe. He couldn't see anything.

Things started to get fuzzy, and then crystal clear, and then hazy again. His lungs burned. He kicked at whatever was holding him but even that took more energy than he had, so he stopped. There was a sudden flash of really bright light, and then things started to go black.

Things were still black when two arms grabbed him around the middle and abruptly pulled him upwards again. He didn't really know what was going on, but suddenly he could feel raindrops hitting his face again, so he knew he wasn't under the water anymore. He also still couldn't breathe, and when he coughed, water came out and it made him want to throw up. He might have.

His back hit something hard. He wanted to go to sleep, but the arms were shaking him, and pushing wet hair back away from his eyes, and he knew it wasn't Mommy because he would always know what Mommy's hands felt like. He tried moving, and ended up coughing up hot water again.

Everything hurt.

And the rain was still pelting his face.

The last thing he remembered was someone saying his name, over and over and over again.

--

March 3, 3:45 PM
Port Angeles, Washington
14 years ago

"And my job- what about my job?" his mother asked, leaning over the table. The lady on the other side, with the big hoop earrings and the hair that went down her back in a multitude of different colors, she took his mother's hand and pressed her fingers against his mother's palm. His mother had called the stranger with the smelly candles and the ratty, tattered shawl "Madame Katrina"- whatever that meant.

Honestly, the place smelled so strong he kept sneezing, but after the third time, his mother had gotten angry and told him to stop. She was currently gazing very intensely up at Madame Katrina, who was running her fingers- with really nasty, long nails- down the lines of his mother's palm.

"Hmmm," Madame Katrina said, stroking her chin with her other hand. He'd seen people do that in movies before, and it looked even stupider in real life (but he kept this comment to himself, because his mother already seemed a bit angry with him- it wasn't his fault he didn't find the stuffy inside of the crazy lady's house amusing). "Your job will go well. I see brightness in your future- this line here, it means you're going to get a promotion soon."

His mother looked entranced, but how did a line on a hand mean her job was going to go well?

Oh- across the room, there were strings of beads hanging up, and one of them was a string of fish beads. He liked fish. His dad would take him fishing sometimes at Aldwell Lake, just outside of town, and he liked that a lot. He liked putting the wriggling worms on the hook and waiting to see if any of the fish wanted some dinner.

He kind of wanted some dinner, too.

But first, the fish beads. He wanted the fish beads. He crossed the room and reached for them, but they made a lot of noise and some weird chimes started going. Both women at the table looked up at him, cross.

"Satoshi!" his mother hissed, forehead wrinkling. He dropped his hand back down, looking forlornly up at the fish beads he wanted very badly to put on the handle of his bedroom door. His mother was obviously annoyed, so he moved back near her and sat down on the floor near one of the table legs. Maybe if he was good, she'd get him a stuffed fish at the store instead.

"How about money?" his mother asked, above him, and he could hear their hands moving across the surface again. "Is the money going to be alright?"

Ooh, cards. Satoshi liked cards, too. Mostly he liked when his uncle came over and did card tricks. He grabbed for the cards (because his mother was always saying he really should be entertaining himself, and maybe he could learn some tricks to show his uncle by the next visit), but they didn't look like the normal cards. There weren't hearts or pointy arrowheads on them; instead, there were weird pictures and some letters at the bottom that he couldn't quite read.

It probably didn't matter. Card tricks were card tricks.

"Hmm," Madame Katrina said again. "The money..."

Satoshi pulled out one of the cards, squinting down at the picture on it. There were funny looking stars and a man throwing them up into the air. It looked like a neat trick. But Satoshi didn't have any funny looking stars; he only had the weird cards.

"Juggle," he said, cocking his head at the picture. "Juggle the money."

Neither of the women were really listening to him. Madame Katrina was saying something about "you will soon have a great influx of cash- and quickly! Perhaps you should look into playing the lottery..." and the card was growing boring, so Satoshi set it aside. The deck felt nice in his hands- kind of warm. Kind of wiggly, like the worms he put on hooks.

He didn't think fish would eat cards, though.

"And my father?" his mother asked.

Satoshi pulled another card out. It wasn't happy, like the man juggling the stars. There were swords- a lot, ten- and some blood, and a man bent over with all the non-pokey ends sticking out of him, and he didn't like the card at all. It made his stomach feel bad, like the time he drank the expired milk that he hadn't realized was rotten (he just thought that the chunks were like a special treat in it, kind of like ice cream).

He dropped the card as if it burned his hand.

He didn't think he wanted to play with the weird cards anymore.

"He will get money, too," Madame Katrina said. "Much money. Now, that has been half an hour. The spirits are exhausted; they cannot speak any longer today. And that will cost $60."

As his mother dug out her checkbook from her purse, Satoshi hung back behind her chair, looking warily at the scattered deck half-hidden under the tablecloth (it hung down to the floor and smelled like a closet). After a few minutes he tried to think about fish instead, because the rumblings in his stomach wouldn't go away.

When they left, he tugged at his mother's shirt to get her attention. "I don't think I liked that place very much."

"Hush," his mother said, veering around the corner that did not lead towards home. "We need to go and buy a lottery ticket."

Satoshi didn't think they needed to buy a lottery ticket. He thought they needed to go home and make sure nothing bad had happened while they were stuck breathing smelly smoke that made his nose itch. But he followed her like a good boy, because he wanted a fish stuffed animal.

She didn't buy him a fish stuffed animal. And when they got home, the phone rang, and she spent a long time with tissues at her eyes while crying. Satoshi sat at the top of the stairs with his hands folded in his lap, listening to the sound of her sobbing wafting up towards his position.

It wasn't until his father got home that he heard what was going on, and even that was just snippets because no one had told him anything yet (but when he was quiet, he was very good at hearing things that people didn't know he heard).

"Oh no," his father said, low and deep and kind of mangled, "oh no. Oh- oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Was it his heart? Did he have a heart attack? God, we didn't even think to get his heart looked at after the scare with his liver..."

Satoshi hung onto the railing for dear life, and thought about the card with the man being stabbed by swords.

--

December 18, 9:11 PM
Milton Plantation, Georgetown County, South Carolina
9 years ago

"Are you done unpacking?"

"Yes," he called back, slumped against the pillows of his bed, fingers furiously working over the controls. There were three boxes next to him, but as long as his mom didn't come up to check, she would never know. The Vegetable Festival was coming up in a few days, and if he got all his fields watered, he'd have another eggplant harvest. He was hard-scrapped for gold currently, and he really wanted to buy a cow before winter (he even had some grass plots that he'd been cutting with his sickle, just so he was prepared).

There were footsteps on the stairs, and then the floorboards squeaked as his mother poked her head in. She frowned at the stack of boxes, and his current position on the bed. "Put your Game Boy away and unpack."

"I don't want to," he sighed.

"Fine," she snapped, in that way she'd been doing ever since they moved out of Dad's place. "Then put your Game Boy away and go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow, and you are expected to help out, Kazu."

He wasn't going to win the battle- he knew that already, and he could hear his sister cackling down the hallway. He switched off the game without saving (he could redo the day again later, if it meant not incurring more of his mother's wrath) and shoved it under the covers of his bed. At least he got his own room at the new place. It was big, and old, and he didn't like the way every step made another creak groan through the foundation, but he did like having his own room.

There was so much yard they were going to have to hire somebody to help with it, because there was no way his mom could get that much done on her own.

He got ready quickly and without flicking toothpaste at his traitor of a sister, and slid into the sheets as he switched the light off. The house was silent around him, impassive and intimidating even once the interior was reached. It didn't feel much like home- home was his dad coming home after work and setting his briefcase down, home was his family laughing around the dinner table- and he honestly wasn't sure it was ever going to.

It was hard to have a house feel like home when you had to go back to your dad's apartment every other weekend as per a judge's decision.

Kazu was almost asleep when he heard the familiar trill of notes.

His eyes opened immediately, staring at the ceiling- he'd been playing too much if he was hearing Game Boy noises in his sleep (or at least that's what he assumed his mom would have to say about it). But then there were more, and the music started up. His hands were shaking just a little when he pulled up the blankets to stare at the handheld system he'd shoved under there.

The light was on. And the music was definitely playing from it. He hadn't turned it back on.

He stared at it for a very long couple of seconds, suddenly finding it rather hard to breathe. And just when he thought about sticking his hand underneath to try clicking the power button, there was a loud squeak across the room, like furniture being scraped across the floor.

Just like furniture being scraped across the floor.

"Mom?" he whispered, and he was honestly surprised he was able to choke anything out at all with the rate his throat was swelling shut. He knew he should turn the light on, just to see- because if he did, he could prove that the furniture wasn't moving by itself, wasn't shifting across the boards on its own.

He started to reach for the lamp with hands that were shaking madly, and he'd almost reached it when the light turned on all by itself.

Kazu stared at the flickering light bulb, tried to swallow down his mounting panic, and forced himself to turn and look at the middle of the room, where he'd heard the noises. He'd set his desk up against the far wall, near the window- but it wasn't near the window anymore. It wasn't even against the wall anymore. It was in the center of the room, and it was on its side, drawers half-falling out.

"Shit," he half-sobbed, not even caring that if his mother heard him swear like that she'd wash his mouth out with soap. He pushed himself with his heels, digging into the sheets, until his back hit the headboard of the bed. His desk was on its side and it had just gotten like that by itself.

Completely by itself.

The light started flickering wildly, and the music from his game got louder (and even in his current state of absolute terror, he knew he'd had his Game Boy on the highest volume setting, and it shouldn't be capable of going higher).

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the other corner, the one near his bed. Something was whimpering and it took him a few moments to realize that the sounds were coming from his own mouth, sounding strangled and hitched and about three octaves too high.

His bedroom door flew open with such force that when it hit the wall, the whole room shook.

His desk drawers opened all the way, falling to the floor with loud bangs, and the pencils and pens that had been in them started flying at him. And down the hall, he could hear his sister screaming.

"Mom!" he cried, hands over his face in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the utensils zooming through the air. "Mom!"

Amidst the screaming and the creaking and the voice that had suddenly gotten very close to his ear hissing something that he couldn't discern- whatever it was, it wasn't friendly, he could pick out, "Kazu! Kazu!"

Somehow he made it out into the hall to find his sister sobbing into her hands, and his mother shaking like a leaf, and the three of them managed to get out the front door. Kazu's foot fell through the porch and it cut his calf, and he was so scared he didn't even feel it until hours later, when they were on the road and a good 150 miles away, when the blood dried on his pajama pants and made his whole leg sticky.

Arashi- "underhand, overhand, and in-between" Sho/Jun/Nino

2009-09-25T04:53:12Z

Title: underhand, overhand, and in-between
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun/Nino
Rating: NC-17; very NC-17
Warnings: Language and if the pairing didn't tip you off, there are three people involved here. Three. As in some.
Summary: Sho is stressed beyond belief trying to lead the double life of an idol and a college student.
Notes: This actually isn't new- I think I wrote it MONTHS ago, but about 4 people ever actually got to see it. I couldn't post because I didn't have the cajones to- and now I have no pride or shame left, so posted it gets. There needs to be far more of this threesome.

If his schedule kept up the way it had been the last few weeks, he was going to begin forgetting meals entirely, and end up reciting macroeconomic history on C no Arashi when he should be furiously apologizing. He hadn't gotten more than four hours of sleep in days, his only sustinence was whatever he could shove in his pockets as he ran out the door, and he was so grumpy even Aiba was giving him his distance.

He couldn't help it. It was all so much, all at once, and he was having trouble keeping everything straight. He was barely making it to all the shoots as it was; if anything more was added, his tenuous control was going to crumple.

It was hard enough trying to keep track of his filmings. Adding C no Arashi location shoots, and his planner was so messy he could barely make out his own chicken scratches on the pages.

He'd yelled at his manager two days ago, and Leader yesterday (but Leader- being Leader- took it a lot better than his manager had, and had let him scream for about ten minutes before patting him on the shoulder kindly and walking out). Ever since then, things had been a little strained between him and his bandmates.

He felt like he was missing something. Something was going around him, and no one had informed him, and there was tension in the air like they were walking on eggshells around him. He didn't particularly want to be out of the loop- but whatever it was, he was too damn busy to really notice anything more than the inchoate feeling that it was there. Maybe it was better that way, he reasoned as he made his way to the green room, rifling through his backpack trying to find his most recent set of notes. It wasn't like he had time to think about anything anyway.

He bumped into Aiba, going in the opposite direction.

"Ah, sorry," Aiba sputtered. Sho mumbled a half-hearted apology, still trying to find the missing papers- he was seriously screwed without them. He had a test in two days- where could he have left them? He kept walking. "Sho?"

"Mm?"

"Wait, just- wait." And Aiba's hands were on his arm, tugging at his sleeve, trying to pull him in the opposite direction. Sho didn't mean to snap; he didn't mean to snap at any of them, but it had been happening more and more lately because he was too exhausted to even try to reign the ire in. He yanked his arm back with far more force than was necessary, practically tearing the fabric from Aiba's fingers.

"Not now," he hissed. "I have to find my notes, I think I left them in the green room, I can't go for ramen with you right now."

"No, I don't- Sho, just wait, please-"

"I said, not now."

It hurt, seeing the expression on Aiba's features, it really did; it would come back up hours later when Sho was trying to fall into a few fitful hours of sleep, and then his guilt would double because it took so long to register. But he just couldn't help it. He needed to find his notes, and he needed to study, because he had to pass the next exam. Arashi obligations were already impacting his schoolwork more than he could get through with.

He turned and started to walk again, and then paused.

"I- sorry," he called over his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he concentrated on something else, Aiba's face wouldn't add to the knots already taking residence in his stomach. "I just can't right now."

He would buy him dinner later- next week maybe, if he didn't have a test. Or the week after, once group projects were done. Sometime. It was a promise, even if Aiba didn't know about it.

"Sho-chan-"

"I'll see you later," he said, with a note of finality, resuming his frenzied pace towards the backroom. By the time he'd reached the door to the green room, he'd dug through every notebook he had shoved within the bag, and none of them were producing the notes in question. The frustration was so thick in his veins he nearly choked on it, and his eyes began to sting- god, he wasn't going to cry, not standing in the damn hallway, not over notes.

He took a moment to re-compose himself; he still had to check the green room, after all, and he was going to feel stupid if they were right next to the couch and he'd acted like a wuss mere feet away from them.

Sho had thought everyone had left already, since usually Aiba was the last one out. He thought the green room would be empty. He was most definitely wrong.

There were two figures still inside, and it took Sho awhile to really make sense of it because all brain function had effectively stopped. His hand was still on the damn doorknob, but he couldn't take his eyes away from Nino straddling Jun on the couch. They were still clothed, so they couldn't have gotten very far, but Jun's hands were all tangled in Nino's hair, and Nino was making funny little whimpers in the back of his throat.

Sho suddenly had a sinking feeling that this was what everyone had been mumbling about for the past few days, at the edges of his attention.

He should have backed away and closed the door again, but his feet refused to move, and Nino broke the fusion of their mouths to trail kisses down to Jun's jawline. There were a few seconds in which he could have left without them ever knowing he was there, and then the opportunity disappeared when Jun opened his eyes and peered hazily over Nino's shoulder to the doorway.

Their eyes met, and Sho's breathing hitched.

"Sho-chan is watching from the doorway," Jun murmured, as one of Nino's hands crept in under his suit jacket to his waist.

"Can't believe he has time to play voyeur," came Nino's response, half muffled by the fact that his mouth was working its way up to Jun's ear.

"I'm not playing anything," Sho snapped, yelling before he realized the words were tumbling out of his mouth. "And you should know better than to do something as fucking stupid as this in a place where-"

Nino was off Jun's lap and moving quicker than Sho had thought possible. He practically threw Sho inside, slamming the door loudly behind him, and then Sho was pressed up against the wall and Nino was in his face, one hand over his mouth.

"Don't blow up at me," Nino said, entirely too calm given the situation. "I'm not in the mood for it right now."

Sho had half a mind to close his teeth down on the fingers against his mouth, but Nino looked a bit dangerous, and Jun was slowly rising from his position on the couch to approach them.

"You've been biting everyone's head off lately, and quite frankly, I'm sick of it," Nino continued. "We've all been trying to help, so you could at least show some gratitude."

"He's too stressed out," Jun said, near Nino's shoulder.

Nino looked thoughtful, and Sho was very much afraid of the gleam in his eye. Had Nino locked the door after slamming it shut? Because the younger man was getting almost uncomfortably close, and it was making something scream in Sho's veins. He wanted to pull away- or at least try to- but his entire body was frozen in place, trembling slightly against the wall.

"I think he needs a stress release," Nino said. His tone was wicked; dangerous. Treading a thin line that Sho was afraid to fall off of.

"What?" Sho managed to choke out, against the other man's palm.

"Don't you know?" Nino whispered, leaning in, pressing his weight against Sho's. "Jun's always had a thing for you."

"Kazu," Jun hissed, but his eyes were on Sho's, and there was something heady in his gaze. Sho's muscles were shaking. They were crossing a line, a line that he'd never been sure wanted to cross, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Jun's, even as Nino's hand slipped away from his mouth. And then there were fingertips on his cheek, near his chin, brushing against his jawline, and Nino was kissing him.

His lips were softer than Sho had imagined- and not that Sho had ever imagined something like that. But it was almost gentle, which was almost worse than anything else, and slow, and Nino was kissing him like he meant it. Oh god, maybe he meant it. Nino's tongue ran along Sho's bottom lip, and Sho's muscles just sort of shuddered, giving in completely and uncoiling all at once. He was glad the wall was there for support behind him; without it, he would have tumbled to the floor.

Nino pulled away, and gave him one of those unreadable looks.

"Jun?" he asked. And when he stepped back, Jun stepped forward, hand on Sho's shoulder, on his arm, on the sleeve he'd pushed up that morning because he hadn't had time to iron in weeks. There was an unspoken question in his eyes.

Sho met him halfway. His brain was nowhere near caught up with what was happening, and given everything, he still wasn't entirely sure that it really was happening at all. It was surreal, like watching himself in a dream (but if his dreams were anything like this, he would have trouble waking up in the mornings for fear of losing it all). Maybe Nino hadn't meant it, but Jun definitely did- every movement of his mouth was purposeful, hands moving up to Sho's neck, to his ears, to the hair on the nape of his neck.

And Sho groaned against Jun's mouth when the other man's tongue swept across his lips. The lock on the door clicked- there it was, the lock- and he barely registered it. Nino's hands were on his arm, on his waist, curving in with deftness between the buttons that he had already gotten undone.

He wasn't going to be able to stand much longer. Jun seemed to realize that, and pulled away, much to Sho's disapproval. He tugged on Sho's shoulders, towards the couch, pulling Nino along behind with his hands still on Sho's sides.

"We sit on this couch," Sho gasped, when Jun's mouth found his jaw and then his earlobe- the other man was doing something mind-boggling with his tongue that Sho couldn't even fathom, much less resist.

"Gotta break it in, sometime," Nino answered. "Right?"

"Oh, god," Sho groaned, and he wasn't entirely sure himself if it was in response or just from the flood of sensations coarsing through his form. Every nerve was on fire- it was almost too much work just to think, and coherent thought had long since fled. "I-"

"Mm," was Jun's reply, which wasn't any sort of reply at all. Nino had somehow gotten Sho's right arm free from his shirt without Sho really noticing what he was doing. And then Jun's mouth found its way down Sho's neck to his collarbone, taking the stinging trail of heat with it.

"This seems really unfair," Sho got out through his rapidly constricting throat.

"I agree," Nino said, and all of a sudden the warmth from Jun's mouth against his chest disappeared, because Nino had grabbed the youngest and kissed him hungrily, greedily. Even just Jun's moan from the contact sent another shiver down Sho's spine- was he seriously watching? They were both half seated on his lap, a handspan away from his face, and he couldn't shut his eyes; the worst part was that he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to.

But their focus was on each other and not on him, and he arched his back in frustration, because he was painfully aroused already and the attention had shifted. Jun's hand, even as one was digging into Nino's shoulder, found his thigh and closed around his length.

"Impatient," Jun half-gasped, half-laughed against Nino's mouth. Sho hoped he didn't want an answer- he was pretty sure anything that came out of his mouth was going to be a garbled mess when Jun's hand started moving up and down across the fabric of his pants.

They broke apart, and Nino grabbed Sho's head almost roughly, nipping at his bottom lip.

"Did you want something?" he almost sing-songed.

And Sho just groaned, because Jun's fingers had gotten his pants unbuttoned and were shuffling them down from his hips. Nino kissed him, demanding access immediately- his technique was different, more forceful. Where Jun's was control and slow dominance, Nino swept in without asking, without waiting for consent. Sho let one hand wrap around the other man's waist, under his jacket as Jun had been doing when he'd walked into the green room.

Jun's mouth found his navel, traveling down with a breath of air, and when he closed down around Sho's cock- Sho had to pull away from the kiss, because he couldn't breathe. It was an overload of sensations all at the same time, from every angle, and it had happened so fast that the adrenaline was just now catching up with his brain.

He half tried to pull away, mostly out of instinct.

"Let Jun work," Nino whispered, against his ear, tongue moving against his neck. "You'll be glad you did."

"Hahdgle," was all Sho managed to get out (even if asked later, he would have no idea what he'd been trying to say). He tried not to think of how Nino would know how- Sho had to admit, extremely- talented Jun was with his mouth, but he ended up thinking about it anyway, and it just intensified the entirety of the sensations. There was a part of his mind going why on earth are you thinking about your bandmates having sex with each other and another part furiously screaming do you know whose mouth is around your cock right now? you had a photoshoot with him yesterday! and Sho ignored all of them. Jun's tongue was doing something out of this world and his hand was gripping the base and it was all sort of moving through his blood with tiny pinging sensations of heat.

Nino's mouth moved back to Sho's, one hand trailing down Sho's abdomen to tangle in Jun's hair. For some reason, that was almost too much- Sho sucked down air like a drowning man, trying to stave off the impending rush just a few moments longer.

"I-" he moaned against Nino's lips.

"Just go," the other man answered, and it was really all that Sho needed. His muscles hitched as he came hard, squeezing his eyes shut and riding it out even as Nino sucked on his neck (it would leave a mark, he just knew it would leave a mark). When the deluge of sensations abated, he opened his eyes a bit, foggy still.

"Better?" Nino asked, mouth by Sho's ear. "Going to stop snapping at everyone now?"

"Uh," Sho exhaled. He hoped it was reply enough. He didn't know if it was or wasn't, because Jun was climbing up off his knees, and Nino had whirled around to kiss him instead, hands wasting no time slipping in his jacket. They fell like two bodies who knew just how to interlock onto the couch next to Sho, Nino's hands already inside Jun's pants, and Jun's mouth biting down on Nino's earlobe.

"Are we going to let Sho stay and watch?" Jun gasped, throwing his head back a bit when Nino's hand- Sho could only assume, as he couldn't see through Jun's trousers- closed around his length. He bucked against Nino's weight on top of him, arching into the other man's hips.

"Doesn't seem like he'll be moving anytime soon," Nino answered, with only a perfunctory glance back over his shoulder at Sho himself.

Sho really had no intention of getting up off the couch.

He could do his homework later.

Arashi- "Full Entry: View", Nino/Jun

2009-09-21T07:47:54Z

Title: Full Entry: View
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Nino/Jun
Rating: PG
Warnings: Practically nothing. This is barely PG.
Summary: Night time, darkness, hotel rooms, and parasomnia disorders.
Notes: The rare non Sho/Jun fic? Egads! Credit for this idea is from a lovely Veronica Mars fic I read awhile ago; I modified it and made it my own, but credit should go there for inspiring the idea in the first place. :)

[Night terror] also known as a sleep terror or pavor nocturnus, is a parasomnia disorder characterized by extreme terror and a temporary inability to regain full consciousness. The subject wakes abruptly from slow-wave sleep, with waking usually accompanied by gasping, moaning, or screaming. It is often impossible to awaken the person fully, and after the episode the subject normally settles back to sleep without waking. A night terror can rarely be recalled by the subject. They typically occur during non-rapid eye movement sleep.

--

He'd known what it was since he looked it up- sure, he wasn't Sho, who carried a dictionary around everywhere with him, and he wasn't qualified to make any sort of medical assessments beyond "hey, you seem to have cut yourself, here's a band-aid", but he could put two and two together pretty well.

He even looked up hypoglycemia to make sure he understood every term in the article, and then he sat staring at it for a long time trying to piece together bits of things- feelings, gut reactions, little instinctual coilings- that were floating around in his mind.

--

The first time it had happened he'd been scared out of his mind, and it was the first time that particular phrase had felt so incredibly, inexplicably real to him. He didn't often room with Nino- he didn't even know why, it was just the way the dice fell. Maybe the higher-ups had already figured they should milk the bizarre comradery between Nino and Ohno from the get-go, or maybe it was just easier to shove Jun in with Ohno on the other nights because they got along so well.

It didn't really matter; it also didn't matter that Nino's clothing was strewn out all over half the floor despite them arriving a mere hours before bed, or that the light from his Gameboy- which he hadn't even turned off, just paused, even though Jun told him the batteries would run out before morning- was illuminating the wall next to the small desk with a ring of orange.

These details, though Jun would always remember them with some kind of astute clarity he couldn't understand- they didn't factor into the grand scheme of things.

He'd almost fallen asleep, caught in the space just between the body relaxing fully into unconsciousness when his thoughts of choreography and clear, plastic bodysuits slipping away and then Nino had started yelling- actually, yelling was too kind a word. Nino had started howling.

And even though he stopped a couple of minutes later, dissolving into a few whines that dissipated into his breathing once more, Jun stared up at the ceiling for over an hour with his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he thought it would burst right through.

--

He hadn't started looking anything up until the second time. He'd even thought he'd be prepared the next time, but there is little that can properly prepare someone to waking up to a roommate screaming and thrashing at the blankets, especially not while teetering at the cusp of sleep. And he wondered why no one else ever said anything- surely it wasn't just while he was there. It had to happen more often than that.

Ohno roomed with Nino at least fifty percent of the time, and the man never said a word about anything odd.

Jun was a gawky, awkward seventeen year old with an article about night terrors on his lap and no idea what any of it actually meant.

--

"Maybe you should watch what you eat before you go to sleep," he tried, the next time he was rooming with Nino, when they were all exhausted from the lives and depleted in every way they possibly could be, and yet Nino was still sitting far into the night with his eyes glued to his game system.

"Why?"

Jun pulled the covers up to his chin and stared at the ceiling tiles, wishing they held answers. "Maybe it would help with the nightmares."

He got a snort in response to that, derisive and annoyed sounding. "I don't have nightmares."

It was nearly 4 AM; at least Nino shut his game off and turned the light off. He didn't say anything else, and Jun didn't quite know how to respond. Nightmares were a different thing altogether, he knew that- he'd read it in the article, but it still didn't negate the fact that Nino quite possibly had no idea what he was talking about. And there was simply no way that none of the others had not thought to say something to him.

Jun waited until the other's breathing had evened out, deep and easy and catching a bit in the back of Nino's throat. He waited and didn't let himself fall asleep- not like he would have been able to anyway, since his nerves were on anxious overdrive already, all balled up into hot coals in his stomach.

When Nino started howling, he was ready- at least as ready as he could have been. He got up and tried not to look at Nino's face, because his eyes were open and that was in and of itself immensely frightening, and moved to the other side of the bed to slide over beside his bandmate. He really didn't know what he was doing, but he thought if he sort of kept Nino from thrashing, maybe it would help the whole situation.

It didn't really; Nino stopped moving around like he was having a seizure, but he continued wailing at pitches that Jun was sure were going to wake the people above them. And after about five minutes, when Jun thought he was going to snap and freak out himself, Nino's hands closed tightly around Jun's shoulders and he sagged back against the pillows like a ragdoll.

He effectively took Jun down with him, and Jun found himself mashed up against the pillow linen with a mouthful of Nino-hair.

He wanted to move and let go, but he was afraid that if he did, the screaming would start again. So he stayed where he was and got a terrible crick in his neck and horrible pains in his back, until Nino's breathing completely evened out again, and detangled himself from Nino's limbs.

Jun didn't get a lot of sleep that night. And the next morning, when Nino sat up and rubbed at his face, hair askew and sticking up in every direction, he didn't seem to recall anything at all.

"Boy," he just said, frowning at the bags beneath Jun's eyes, "you should really take something to get more sleep. You look terrible."

--

There were several long periods of time in which they didn't ever room together- Arashi didn't tour for awhile, they didn't have any location filming that required overnight stays, and even though it was out of Jun's mind, he never really forgot about it. It was impossible to forget something like that; it lingers.

--

And then again, he was paired with Ninomiya for the hotel rooms.

"At least pick up your stuff," he sighed, kicking at a shoe that had somehow managed to plant itself between the two beds despite never having been worn.

"What's the big deal?" Nino asked, face shoved in a manga. He was turning the pages agonizingly slow.

Sensing that Nino was not going to be picking up the offending article, Jun did so himself, and held it up in an accusatory manner. "I might trip over it, that's what."

"What are you going to do, pee five times in the middle of the night?" Nino laughed. "The next time you get up, it'll be morning anyway."

It wouldn't, of course, but Jun couldn't say that. He didn't really know how much to reveal and how much to keep to himself. He just let it go without a retort and settled into bed ten minutes later. He was starting to get used to it, as bizarre as it seemed, the self-induced insomnia until Nino's terrors started up. He even got out of bed and across the space quicker, throwing his arms around the other boy until his violent shaking stopped.

He didn't know why it felt right- it just did. It was the right thing to do.

And he stayed, curled up beside Nino's sleeping form, until he was completely sure that the danger had passed yet again.

--

About half a year later, they shared again.

Jun couldn't tell if the terrors were getting worse, or if his responsive embrace was getting less-effective; maybe it was a combination of the two. He let out the subconscious breath he'd been holding when the tremors stopped and Nino's form went limp, even as Nino himself stirred a bit.

"-o?"

It was too mumbled, too slurred for Jun to pick up any meaning behind it. And he wasn't sure how to explain himself if Nino woke up. Jun was lying next to him with his arms around him in the bed- and since Nino didn't really remember the terrors themselves, Jun was, essentially, doing it for no reason. But he didn't let go either, because he wasn't really ready to (somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd begun realizing that perhaps his actions were just as much to soothe Nino as they were to console himself, and he wasn't entirely sure what that meant).

Nino's fingers tightened around Jun's upper arms. "Jun?"

"Yeah," Jun said, throat tight. "Just sleep."

Nino did, and so did Jun- without moving back to his own bed. He woke early of his own accord- somehow, despite the fact that he never could when he really needed to be roused with his alarm- and slid back into his own bed before the other man woke and did something violent.

--

It was awhile before he asked the others about it- a very long while, in the scheme of things, but somehow came up one day over steaming plates of ramen with Aiba.

"Nino? Oh, yeah! Yeah, he sure does scream, doesn't he?" Aiba laughed, twirling noodles around his chopsticks.

"You just let him howl?" Jun asked, aghast.

Aiba shrugged. "What else can you do? He'll stop eventually and just fall back asleep on his own."

But it seemed so cruel to let him do that. Cruel in a way that Jun wasn't sure he fully understood. It felt like leaving someone out to suffer because it was easier, because it was less invasive and took less emotional fallback to deal with- it wasn't right.

He just took a long drink of his water, and stared down at his lunch.

--

The next time they stayed together, the thermostat was set far too high. It was unbearably hot, but even more so when Jun was wrapped around Nino on the other man's bed, fingers clutching at shirt folds like they would anchor his bandmate back in reality with him. Jun stripped off his own shirt and slept restlessly in the heat, trying to get comfortable.

He forgot to grab his shirt when he shifted back to his own bed the next morning.

He noticed the same time Nino did, staring down at the fabric pooled together with the tussled sheets. For a very long moment, neither said anything, and then Nino just looked at him across the space separating the mattresses, a look that spoke volumes and said nothing at all. It was hard- like something had slammed down behind his eyes, shutting Jun out.

He didn't even have to say anything, but Jun knew why they ceased rooming together after that.

--

It was a very long time before it came up again- not that Nino said anything. For someone with a quick wit and a sick enjoyment of unnerving other people, Nino was surprisingly agile at dodging around confrontations. He acted like nothing had changed and it was all the worse, because it was so terribly obvious that something had. And Jun bore all of it, as he knew he had to, because he'd crossed a line without thinking about the repercussions of it.

But then they had a location shoot early the next morning, and Ohno was gone, and Sho was getting in late, and they ended up being put together despite whatever Nino had said to alter the situation so long ago. They just sort of didn't talk, sitting in awkward silence with tension that Jun swore was going to eat them both alive, until Nino turned the light off and Jun followed.

When Nino started howling, Jun was there, like he had always done, with his arms around the other man until the shaking stopped.

He should have gone back to his bed immediately, but he didn't; he didn't because when he pulled Nino in closer and squeezed tighter, he could pretend that there wasn't an underlying fracture beneath all of their interactions, and that nothing had changed. He could pretend it was still Nino, the Nino he'd been in M.A.I.N with, the Nino who had charged him money to borrow his manga.

"Jun?"

The world crashing down again was infinitely worse- it fell apart harder the second time, at Jun's feet in a million tiny pieces he couldn't fathom to try and put back together.

"I'm sorry," Jun whispered, against Nino's shoulder.

And then Nino sighed, sounding weary and bone-tired and exhausted in every way, and said, "No, I'm sorry."

--

"But, you see the swan isn't really a mean animal-"

"It attacked you on the golf course, Aiba," Sho interrupted.

"But that really doesn't mean it's mean-"

Sho threw his hands into the air, a sure sign of near-surrender (if Aiba had ever been good at reading the signs). "You had to beat it away with your 3 wood, Aiba!"

Ohno sat next to Nino on the couch, hand automatically rising to play with the edges of Nino's hair- Jun didn't think Ohno did it consciously. He thought that it just happened, as naturally as breathing, as easy as falling into step with someone walking next to you.

"Nino-chan," Ohno sighed, "you should go to bed early tonight."

"Speaking of which, I want a room change," Nino said.

Sho bent near, looking as if he were itching to press the back of his hand to Nino's forehead. "Are you ill?"

"No," Nino said, batting his fingers away. "But you grind your teeth, and Ohno talks, and Aiba snores."

There was something almost unnoticeable in his voice, an undercurrent, and Jun would have missed it like the others had he not been caught in the sway, helplessly beating against the shore. Nino just leveled him with a firm, unavoidable gaze.

"I want to room with Jun."

--

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be expecting. Nino was glued to his DS and pressing buttons like his life depended on it, and when he finally declared that he was done- or at least that he'd gotten past the next boss fight- he switched off the light and settled down into his pillow and Jun could only follow suit, feeling hopelessly lost.

There was a long stretch of silence, and the hum of the air conditioner in the corner.

"You know," Nino said finally, apparently finding the darkness easier to be honest in, "you could just start over here."

Jun's heart clogged his throat, choking him.

"I mean, since you're going to move anyway," Nino continued, mistaking Jun's sudden cease in breathing to be a negative sign. He was babbling. His tone tended to rise when he was speaking in an attempt to soothe his own nerves. It was like the tone at the end of a battle when HP was running low- frantic.

And Jun's thoughts were running so slowly he could almost hear them grinding together.

"Okay," he said, the word almost getting lost in the breath of air accompanying it. He pushed himself up- with strength that he didn't know he had, since his muscles were shaking- and moved over to the other bed, slipping beneath the starched sheets. He expected Nino to simply let his arms move around him. He hadn't anticipated Nino turning into the embrace, lithe hand sweeping past Jun's elbow to settle on his hip.

"This is because-"

"Yeah," Jun whispered.

Nino was quiet for a moment. "Oh."

When Nino's fingers moved to the back of Jun's neck instead, playing with wisps of hair, it slipped into place. It felt easy- right. The same way it felt when Nino leaned forward and their mouths somehow met, clumsy and trembling and desperately, terrifyingly seeking. Maybe this was what Jun had really wanted all along, hidden between the lines of the encyclopedia article, covered with words of too many syllables.

"You howl," Jun said, when they separated.

"Yeah."

"I'll stay here," Jun promised.

He got a squeeze to his arm for that, a tight reassurance. "Okay."

He let himself fall asleep. He knew he'd wake up. And he knew it would be okay when he curled back up around Nino's sleeping form afterwards.

Arashi- "Such a Hot Mess", Sho/Jun

2009-09-17T02:14:53Z

Title: Such a Hot Mess
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: T
Warnings: Bit of language, smoking, alcohol
Summary: You know you got bit real bad, doing things that you never did.
Notes: Second-place winner in the sakumoto fic contest. ^_____^

april
Sho's father moved them just before the start of Sho's senior year of high school.

And it wasn't even like Sho cared that much, because he didn't- not really. He still went to school every day and sat dutifully in his seat with his pencils sharpened, mind alert and ready to absorb information. Moving wasn't going to change his plans of Keio and beyond, so it really didn't matter. He'd long since forgotten whether university was an expectation or a goal. Whatever the case, it wasn't important- getting to Keio was.

The new school really wasn't any different than the others had been. The teachers looked stressed on the first day of the new term, the students sat around joking about girls- and whether or not they would ever get to kiss one, and Sho sat quietly in the second to last row biting his lower lip while waiting for the bell to ring. He didn't care about whether or not the cafeteria was serving pudding that day.

A sharp buzzer split the air, and the teacher clapped. "Seats, please!"

It was noisy and clunky as the soles of shoes scraped against the tiles, and Sho just thought oh thank god.

"The principal has asked me to proctor the assessment test- no, stop grumbling, nothing you say will change this," the teacher said, tapping on the side of one forlorn looking student's desk as she passed by with the stapled sheets of paper. "It's not graded, just used to gauge where we need to begin from the lesson plans."

Sho accepted the papers she handed him, glancing over everything- a middle schooler could have aced the test he was holding in his hands.

As the class quieted and the sound of lead scratching against paper filled the air, there was a poke to the back of his shoulder. "Psst."

Sho paused for a moment, pencil poised above the edo period's political system evolved into what historians call bakuhan, and then went back to writing. There was another poke, this one distinctly stronger; it kind of hurt. "Pssst."

Finally, Sho turned to see a guy with a splash of messy hair leaning far over his desk to linger only inches away. "Can I borrow a pencil?"

Sho stared at him.

He stared so long in shock- who didn't bring a pencil to the first day of a new school term?- that the kid's eyebrows shot up a bit. "Well?"

"O-okay," Sho said. Dammit- he'd brought just the right number of perfectly sharpened ones, too, lined neatly up in his case. He'd have to swipe another one from his father's desk when he got home, because he was 95% sure that the guy, with his unkempt collar and wrinkled shirt, was not going to be returning the utensil. He passed the pencil back, and got a pleased noise for his efforts.

"Thanks."

The guy began writing like absolutely nothing was wrong with his planning and preparedness, and Sho sat for several moments in a confused sort of haze before going back to his own answers.

And he never did get the pencil back.

--

The guy's name was Matsumoto, Sho learned, as the teacher tended to call on him often just to rouse him from his naps, arms splayed across the desk's surface. Matsumoto was the sort of kid who walked around the hallways like he owned the whole damn school with his shirt untucked and his hair all over the place, and the thing about him is that Sho wasn't even entirely sure the man was aware of it. Matsumoto wore several clunky rings and boots that were definitely not regulation, and he really didn't seem to do it to prove any kind of point- he just did it.

And he was clearly barely getting through his classes, which Sho found appalling.

As if it wasn't annoying enough to have lost one of his pencils to the guy- really, how hard was it to return it in the condition to which you were given it?- three days later he received another tap on the shoulder in the middle of a video showing on the pull-down screen.

When he glanced back, he got a wad of notebook paper in his face.

After several agonizingly long seconds in which Sho was quite certain he was going to get sent out to the hall for passing notes- or expelled, oh god, maybe he was going to get expelled- he opened up the folded paper with trembling hands.

I'm so fucking bored.

Sho stared down at the scrawl. It wasn't even straight with the paper lines.

But that was hardly the point. The point was that Sakurai Sho did not pass notes in class- Sakurai Sho took meticulous notes in three colors for easy studying. Sakurai Sho had a rainbow of highlighters that he used as he reread the material three times and categorized all the information into subject matter and order of importance. Sakurai Sho was going to Keio, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Sakurai Sho was most definitely not going to get in trouble because some barely literate kid behind him couldn't understand the importance of watching a video tutorial on the differences between the Chinese and Japanese tea ceremonies.

Sho folded the note back up, crunched it down into his bag, and slouched down in his seat, refusing to take his eyes from the screen for the rest of the period.

--

He thought maybe he'd gotten his point across quite nicely until a week or so later. The teacher was in the middle of a lecture on English particles and their use in sentences when Matsumoto started kicking at the legs of Sho's chair. It was enough to jolt his lead across the paper, and his "ki" looked more like a blob with legs attached to it than a character.

It kept happening, sort of in a rhythmic motion, and Sho waited until the teacher turned back to write something else in chalk across the board before turning around.

"Will you stop that?" he hissed.

Matsumoto just looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes without a care in the world. "What?"

"Kicking my chair," Sho whispered. "Stop kicking my chair."

The other man stopped his writing- doodling, he was doodling in the corners of his notebook!- to look beneath his desk to where his feet were positioned very near to Sho's chair legs. "Oh. Sorry."

"You-" Sho glanced down at the open paper. There was nothing but some stars in the margins, and a couple of stick figures that might have been hitting themselves in the face with baseball bats. "You aren't taking notes."

Matsumoto made an incredibly blase noise of affirmation.

And when Sho turned back around, he thought very hard about asking the teacher to allow him to change seats.

may
He often wondered how Matsumoto did it- he walked through the halls with the gait of someone who didn't care if he got another tardy, and the girls swooned, and he paid absolutely no notice to any of it.

And Sho wasn't sure what was wrong with him the day he sat his bento down across the table from the guy during lunch, pulling the chair so hard it squeaked across the tiles. To his credit, Matsumoto didn't look very surprised. He just continued to pick at his own lunch with bejeweled fingers.

"Don't you want to go to college?" Sho asked.

"Naw," Matsumoto shrugged.

Sho was aghast. "You mean- not at all?"

"No."

Sho had never encountered someone who cared so little about the idea of going to University. In his house, it wasn't even an option- it was happening. Sho was going to college, and he was going to get a respectable job, and that was just the way life worked.

"So what are you going to do?" Sho asked, picking up his chopsticks to poke around at the vegetables in the box.

Matsumoto laced his fingers behind his head and leaned over the back of the chair like he was stretching, shirt coming out from the waistband of his trousers. "I dunno."

He didn't offer anymore information, but he didn't tell Sho to leave, either. And as they ate in companionable silence, Sho wondered if the other man's apathy would infect him like a cold.

--

The next time they were shown a video- this one on Vietnam and the effects of the fighting, Sho received another tap on his shoulder with the eraser-end of a pencil. His pencil, he was quite sure, though he wasn't sure it mattered too much anymore.

A folded piece of paper was shoved between his collar and his neck. He almost yelped- and almost got papercut- and managed to get the note into his lap by the time the teacher looked over in his direction, stilling his face and willing himself to look calm and incredibly interested in post-war Vietnamese culture.

Wanna ditch? the paper said, when he unfolded it ever so quietly against his thighs.

Sho took a couple of moments before sliding the page up to his desk surface, and then reaching for a pen.

Are you crazy?! he wrote, before carefully refolding it and slipping it back on Matsumoto's desk. He wasn't really sure he wanted an answer to the question anyway, but it probably needed to be asked. Matsumoto didn't even attempt to keep the paper from crumpling noisily as he read the message back, and even snorted a little like he was trying not to laugh.

Sho wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it when the teacher glanced at him again. He put his hands up to the sides of his head and tugged a bit at his hair to get his focus back.

The corner of the note poked him in the back, and then the entire thing flew over his shoulder to land squarely on his desk.

Probably. What do you say?

Sho didn't dignify it with a response, and pointedly ignored the paper for the rest of the period.

Matsumoto slipped out after the video, and didn't come back for Algebra.

Sho was probably crazy- no, no, he knew he was crazy, and stupid, and obviously looking for a beating or trouble or destroying his entire future, when he grabbed his bag once the bell rang again and took to the halls. He wasn't even sure where to find the other guy; he wasn't terribly forth-coming with his activities. But Sho just kept walking until he hit the stairs that led up to the roof.

It was exactly the place a juvenile delinquent would go when skipping class.

Sho wasn't surprised when he found Matsumoto leaning against the cement rail with his nose buried in a manga. And the damn guy had the nerve to look bored when Sho slid down next to him.

"I'm so stupid," Sho said.

"Mm," Matsumoto agreed. Without looking up from his graphic novel, he kicked his bag towards Sho a bit. "Got another one in there if you want it."

Sho stared at him, then at the bag, and then back at Matsumoto- and figured he'd already doomed himself and gone that far, he might as well go all the way.

They stayed on the roof through Japanese History.

And Sho rather liked the manga.

--

"Are you always studying?" Matsumoto asked, between bites of onigiri.

"We have a test today, you know," Sho pointed out. He didn't look up from his notes- he had them all organized by date of lecture, and then a photocopied set organized by time period within the offered information. It was best to have it both ways, just in case the teacher wanted them to build upon the way it was presented rather than the way it actually happened in time.

Matsumoto frowned, and leaned in. "Is that white out?"

"Mm-hmm," Sho affirmed, skimming over a longer paragraph with his finger.

"You write in pencil."

"So?" Sho asked. He finally raised his eyes to find Matsumoto staring at him. It was the most expressive he'd really ever seen the other man since meeting him, and even though it was incredulity bordering on horror, it was still something.

"Pencil erases," Matsumoto said.

Sho shifted in his seat a bit. He needed to get back to his outline- he'd only been able to go over it three times the night before, and he was sure he was going to forget some of the smaller details. "What's your point?"

There was a long period of quiet, and Matsumoto looked vaguely terrified. Then he bit into his rice ball again, and chewed thoughtfully. Sho was aware of being watched when he flipped to the next page, being careful not to crease the paper around the paperclip.

"I think you might be the weirdest person I've ever met," Matsumoto said.

Sho snorted. "Matsumoto, have you ever studied in your life?"

"Not really," came the answer.

There were a few more seconds of quiet, and then Matsumoto drummed his fingertips across the table surface.

"You know," he said easily, "you can call me Jun."

june
Jun needed to be tutored to pass English, and Sho took it upon himself, even though he was busy enough with his own studies. The truth was that he really didn't mind tutoring him, because it was more interesting than studying alone, and Jun was sort of exciting to be around. Sho had never spent time with someone who cared so little about his own future- it was a bit freeing, even if sometimes Sho panicked when he woke up in the middle of the night thinking he had been rejected from Keio's application process.

They ended up on the roof a lot during lunch, books spread across their laps. Or, rather, Sho had his book open and sometimes Jun thought vaguely about reading his own.

"No, really, turn to page 67," Sho demanded, pointing at the still-closed text.

Jun made a 'tsk' noise with his tongue. "I'm still eating."

"You finished your bento ten minutes ago," Sho said. "Open your book."

"But it's so nice out."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Sho asked- even though it was true. The rain had cleared and given them a sunny day, and the breeze was playing pleasantly with his hair.

Jun leveled him an obvious look. "It means I don't want to waste it studying."

The other man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, hitting the bottom against his palm a couple of times.

"Are you crazy?!" Sho hissed, when he lit up and took a long drag. "You are going to get in trouble!"

"I think sometimes you might need to relax," Jun mused.

Sho snapped his textbook shut with great irritation, and stated shoving all of his materials- bento included- back into his bag. There was no point of sitting on the rooftop with someone who was going to refuse tutoring.

Jun took notice. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," Sho snapped. "I don't feel much like wasting my time today."

"Hey, wait, Sho," Jun said, and Sho paused. He paused because Jun didn't look like he wanted him to leave, and he was acutely aware that it was the first time Jun had ever used his first name.

He sort of just paused, mid-rise, until Jun opened up his textbook. "What did you say, page 67? Look, look, I'm studying."

He seemed genuine, and Sho was still sort of confused, so he slid back down to the ground. He didn't really want to leave anyway- it was nice, and the sun was warm, and Jun was usually good company.

"So you'll stay?" Jun asked, and Sho sighed noisily while tugging his book back out again.

"Yeah, yeah."

Jun offered him the lit cigarette, and Sho waved it away.

"Well, there's only so much," Jun commented, off-handedly, and laughed when Sho made a decisively annoyed face.

--

He wasn't surprised when Jun found him after their test a week later, railing against the cement rail of the rooftop like it had wronged him.

"This is bullshit!" Sho yelled, kicking- it was a stupid thing to do, because the his toes started to throb. "I answered that exactly the way it should have been answered!"

"Less than perfect score?" Jun asked, lighting up a cigarette.

Sho whirled on him with one finger outstretched. "Shove it, I don't need your commentary."

Jun just sort of raised one of his manicured eyebrows. He let Sho continue to rage against inanimate objects for awhile longer before holding out the cigarette.

Sho hesitated only a second, and then grabbed for it, inhaling deeply. It didn't quite work out as well as he'd thought, since he was doubled over wheezing a bit, but it wasn't all bad. He didn't feel like giving it back, if that was any indication.

Jun lit up another for himself. "You should go blow off some steam."

It certainly sounded better than what Sho's plans had been- which was to go over and over his answers again until he was exhausted.

"Okay," he said. "What did you have in mind?"

And Jun just grinned.

--

"I can't hear anything!" Sho yelled, and it was true, because he couldn't even hear his own words over the din surrounding them and the bass pumping under his feet. It was sort of shaking his entire field of vision, sort of like when he woke up from particularly bad nightmares about failure and shame.

"What?" Jun shouted- at least Sho assumed that's what he said.

Sho tried leaning closer. "I can't hear anything!"

"What?"

Annoyed, Sho gave up. There were bodies all around them, pressed in far too close for Sho's liking, and he was feeling incredibly claustrophobic. He assumed he was supposed to be relaxing, or something- why else would Jun take him to the club?

There was a tap on his elbow, and Jun pointed towards a table near the back. Sho followed the lanky man up a couple of stairs, and slid into the booth. It was marginally quieter in the corner-marginally.

"Now what?" Sho yelled.

Jun produced a flask from his jacket, and Sho held his hands up.

"No," he insisted, "no way. No way."

"Don't make me bring up the test again," Jun said, dangling the container like a treat in front of a dog. Sho stared at him, and thought of his perfectly crafted answers once more. How could the teacher dock him points when he'd clearly hit on every topic they'd covered in the lectures, and even a few from the videos? He'd studied for days and days and-

-he reached for the flask and took a swig, immediately regretting it. It burned like hell.

"Ergh," he choked out. Jun laughed at him and took a drink himself.

"Let's find some girls," he said.

Sho choked again, despite the fact that all the alcohol had gone down already. "What?"

"Girls," Jun shouted.

He couldn't be serious. He- well, he probably was serious. Sho was so not going to be able to get through the night. He reached for the flask again. "Oh, god."

--

It was the same thought that went through his head when he woke the next morning.

"I'm dying," he moaned. He wanted to turn over, but his body hurt too badly. Instead he just tried to squeeze his eyes shut tighter, like it would make all the pain and the rolling nausea go away. It didn't help anything.

Jun mumbled something from across the room. It prompted Sho to try and open his eyes again, and when he did so, he found himself staring at the ceiling.

Ceiling- ceiling? He was on the floor. No wonder everything throbbed.

"Dying," he said pitifully again.

"Probably," came the garbled response from the bed. The asshole hadn't even bothered to give it up, had he?

It took Sho about five minutes to roll over to his side, and even that was really pushing the limits to his movement. He glanced down at his wrist to see a wristband- and the hands of his watch.

"Oh, shit," he gasped. "Oh, shit, we're late for school."

The lump under the blankets said something that might have been not going to school and might not have been, but Sho was willing to take it as such. He scrambled to his feet, regretted it, nearly threw up, and somehow got himself out of Jun's house without getting lost.

He was beyond late to class.

july
"So how mad were your parents?" Jun asked casually, a week later, back against the roof railing.

"I think my father lost the ability to form words for awhile," Sho answered.

Jun offered him the box, and Sho took a stick without thinking about it. The nicotine felt strangely calming.

"Hm," was all Jun offered on that. They fell silent for a few minutes. "Was he more upset about the test score or the tardy?"

Sho punched him in the shoulder, but laughed a little anyway.

--

They had another test a few weeks later in Chemistry, and Sho spent all his free periods trying to coach Jun through balancing equations.

"They have to match, see?" he said, over the top of his bento with rice still in his mouth. Jun glanced at the paper and made a face, reaching into Sho's box for the umeboshi that Sho didn't like (and his mother always packed anyway).

"No," Jun said, shoving the plum in his mouth.

Sho flipped a few pages, pointing to another one. "Like this."

While Jun read over the page with brow furrowed, Sho reached in Jun's bento to steal a few mushrooms. Jun swatted at his hand a bit, but Sho came out victorious, and it was completely worth it.

"This is stupid," Jun said.

"No, it isn't," Sho explained. "It's science."

Jun scoffed. "Science is stupid, then."

"Oh, you're stupid," Sho snipped.

They ate for a few minutes in silence, with Sho balancing the book's examples in his head.

"Wanna go out tonight?" Jun asked, casually. So casually- how could he always act like that? Nothing ever seemed to really affect him. And Sho wasn't simple, the last time they'd gone out had resulted in weeks of torture at home and a raging hangover the next day. They had class, and upcoming exams, and Sho had more sense than that.

"Okay," he said.

Apparently not.

--

His father screamed for two hours. Almost exactly- Sho had been watching the clock. And his mother had just sat there with tight, pursed lips and the expression that read where did we go wrong, oh what did we do wrong? and made Sho's abdomen clench something terrible.

And afterwards, seated on the side of his mattress with his hands in his lap, he couldn't really think about all the stuff his father had said about jeopardizing his future, or ruining his future career. He didn't really care that his grades were going to suffer and he was throwing all his hard work away, even though he knew most of that was angry exaggerations.

He couldn't get the echo of his father's voice saying you shouldn't be hanging out with that Matsumoto anymore out of his head.

Because not being able to spend time with Jun was worse than not being able to get into Keio.

And the realization made him sick to his stomach.

--

After that, he was hyper-aware all the time. It was like his entire body was on overdrive, nerves constantly on edge. It was so much that Jun noticed while they were sitting up on the roof during lunch, and Jun hardly ever noticed anything.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, flicking his cigarette butt across the cement.

"Nothing," Sho said.

Jun looked at him like he could see right through that ploy, and Sho had to look away. "Well, maybe we should study or something."

"Yeah, maybe," Sho agreed. He reached for his bag just as Jun did, and their hands brushed. Sho's entire body froze at the contact, muscles screaming and twitching, mind going completely blank.

"Sorry," Jun said. He plucked his notebook out and flipped through the pages, oblivious to Sho's landed-fish wheezing.

Oh, no.

After a moment, Jun glanced over at him. "Sho?"

Oh, oh, no.

"Oh, no," Sho whispered.

"What?" Jun asked.

But Sho was already moving, shoving everything into his bag all at once without caring that his notes were getting bent and he'd lost his place in his non-fiction library book. He just knew he had to move, he had to leave; he physically could not move fast enough. "I have- I have to go."

"What?" Jun repeated. "What, Sho-"

Sho didn't give him the chance to finish his thought.

He didn't want to know what it might have been.

august
He asked the teacher to move him closer to the board because he was "having trouble reading what she wrote". He started eating his lunch with a group of otaku in the lunchroom who spent the whole time quoting video games. And when he ran into Jun entering or leaving a classroom, he would avert his eyes very, very quickly so he wouldn't have to see the expression on Jun's face.

He couldn't do it.

His parents were happy- his grades were back up, and he wasn't going out at night anymore. But the reason his studying time increased wasn't because of lack of plans, it was because of lack of sleep- he couldn't fall into dreams with all the knots in his belly and the guilt weighing heavy at the back of his mind.

He'd never been more miserable in his life.

And after awhile, he stopped seeing Jun in the school entirely.

--

"We have to plan the birthday treats," the girl behind his new seat said one day, to the pig-tailed girl across the aisle.

The other girl sighed, sounding annoyed. "There aren't many this time- can't we skip it?"

"Mm," came the agreement. "I wish, I have so many better things to do. But maybe we won't have to do anything. Think the only birthday is that one kid, the one who never comes anymore."

Sho's breath caught in his throat, choking him.

"Oh, that guy?" Pigtails asked. "He hasn't dropped out yet?"

"His name is still on my list for this month," her friend said.

Pigtails scribbled something on her notebook with a sparkly gel pen, and jumped when Sho turned around suddenly, grasping the back of his chair like an anchor holding him sane. It wasn't really working.

"When?" he gasped.

"What?" the girl behind him asked.

"When is Ju- Matsumoto's birthday?"

Pigtails was giving him big doe-eyes that she must have thought were enticing- they just sort of increased the bile gathering in the back of his mouth, but it wasn't entirely her fault. "The 30th. Do you want to help us? With the treats?"

"Yeah," her friend chimed in, leaning closer with her elbows on the desk. "You can come to my house if you want, to bake with us."

"I- no," Sho stammered. He turned back around, trying to focus on his notes. The lines blurred together to form one huge cloud of gray in his vision. "No, sorry. Thanks."

--

Sho had to tell him.

He just didn't know how.

--

As it got closer to the end of the month, he tried to find his courage reserves. He hadn't done much that required being brave in his life, so he had to have some stored up- except he couldn't find it, and every time he tried to dial Jun's number on his mobile, he panicked halfway through and couldn't finish. He spent a lot of time staring at the contact list in his phone's address book.

But he was running out of time- and so was Jun. He was missing more and more of school, and it was numbered, Sho knew it was numbered before they kicked him out.

He couldn't let that happen- not because of him, not for anything.

He thought having a deadline of the 30th would bolster his nerves, but when the day itself rolled around and he hadn't called yet, he knew he had to do something.

It took ten minutes to dial with trembling fingers. The phone rang twice, and then went dead.

Jun had hung up on him.

Sho couldn't really blame him- couldn't blame him, but couldn't accept it either. He dialed again. One ring that time before the harsh click met his ear. And again.

Jun picked up the third time, sounding exhausted and upset and maybe a little mad. "What?"

"Please don't hang up," Sho said, in a rush, all in one breath. "I- please."

There was silence, and the tiny crackling of static. "You have two minutes."

Jesus. "I- okay. I just- I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, and I- can I talk to you? Like, in person?"

"Why?" Jun asked.

"Because," Sho swallowed hard, "I need to. Please, can we just- can we just meet somewhere?"

There was a very long silence. Sho thought maybe he would never, ever be able to catch his breath again, and then he was sure Jun had hung up the phone once more. But then Jun sighed, and the sound reverberated with weariness. "I'll be there in half an hour."

--

It was dark by the time Jun arrived. He sat in Sho's desk chair and just sort of glared across the room like he was refusing to make eye contact, and Sho suspected he probably deserved that. He also had prepared absolutely nothing, and couldn't find any words.

They were silent for a very long time, and Sho resisted the urge to pace, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"What the hell," Jun mumbled, half into his hand, elbow propped up against the desk. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"I-" Sho struggled.

"You know what? I don't want to talk," Jun snapped. "I don't want to talk to you. You can't just treat people like that."

"I know," Sho whispered.

Jun's palm smacked the armrest. "No, you don't know. What the fuck, Sakurai? I thought you were my friend- I thought you were my best friend, and then one day you just stop talking to me?"

Oh, Sho's hands were shaking.

"What the fuck? You can't just do that to people!"

"I-" Sho started again, and got cut off by a very angry, raging Jun.

"Why the fuck would you do that to anyone?!"

"Are you stupid?!" Sho exclaimed. "Can you seriously not tell? I'm completely in love with you!"

That was so not what he had meant to say. Of all the things he could say, should say- the ways he could try to explain why they couldn't be friends anymore, the reasons he had to stop talking to Jun- that was not what he had wanted to shout at Jun. And then he was pretty sure he was going to stop breathing for real, for good, just stop breathing and die right there.

"Oh god," he cried. "Oh shit, I'm sorry-"

He thought he was going to throw up- it was like the worst hangover ever times ten. Jun just stared at him with very, very wide eyes and didn't say anything, and that was just making everything worse. Sho was expecting to get punched, or kicked, or railed against, and nothing was happening.

Nothing was happening.

And then Jun stood up. That's it- he was going to leave, Jun was going to leave and he was never going to speak to Sho again, all because he'd blurted out the worst possible thing he ever could have said.

Just when he was about to hyperventilate, Jun sat down on the bed and grabbed for him.

"What-?" Sho started, and then Jun's hands were grabbing at his shoulders, his collar, forcibly pulling him down onto the bed with him, and when Sho got down low enough, Jun kissed him.

Jun kissed him hard.

"Jun," Sho groaned, trying to right himself on the mattress and failing, mostly because Jun's limbs were everywhere and he was tangled up in them.

"You're so stupid," Jun whispered against his jaw. His hands were all over the place- Sho's shoulders, Sho's arms, Sho's waist. "You're so fucking stupid."

Sho's vision was getting very fuzzy, and he wasn't entirely sure how to handle it. "What?"

"I've loved you since I saw you," Jun giggled- that breathless, dorky, shiver-inducing giggle of his that caught in his throat and lit up his whole face. "Why do you think I kept talking to your uptight ass?"

He was being kissed again- and kissed well, kissed very, very well- but Sho thought maybe he was a little bit offended at the uptight comment. He just didn't particularly care enough to detangle his tongue from Jun's at that moment.

almost-september
"Hey," Sho said, poking at Jun's shoulder a little. "It's after midnight. Your birthday is over."

Jun just sort of grumbled and wormed his way further under Sho's arm. Damn it was hot in his room; maybe his mother had turned the heat on.

"Are you listening to me?" Sho demanded, poking harder.

"No," came the response.

Sho sighed. "I don't think I like you very much. You never listen to me."

Jun just nipped at his ear. "You talk too much."

Well, that much was probably true. And then Jun moved again, and Sho found better things to do with his mouth anyway.

Final Fantasy IV:OGC- "Fortunately, Edge is a Fan of Curvy Paths", Edge/Rydia

2009-08-27T02:44:14Z

Title: Fortunately, Edge is a Fan of Curvy Paths
Fandom: FFIV:OGC
Character, Pairing(s): Edge/Rydia
Rating: PG
Warnings: Bit of language
Summary: Either she is deliberately being difficult, or Edge is missing something monumental.
Note: Yes, you read the pairing right. This is for ff_exchange , and well out of my usual with this fandom.

"No," Rydia said, and then, after a moment of brief incredulity, added, "Are you crazy?"

Honestly, he might have been- there always was that undercurrent of delusions that seemed to run on his mother's side of the family, and he once had an uncle that everyone had referred to as "Mad Maxxen". But taken on the whole, which he much preferred people to do, since focusing on one single attribute never seemed to work out in his favor, he was very much sane.

It was just that the emerald-haired summoner in front of him did not seem to agree with his personal assessment, and that was a travesty in and of itself.

"I don't think so," he replied, after a moment of thought. "At least, I haven't had any voices speaking to me lately from inside my head. There's always tomorrow morning, if you want to wait and see."

She leveled him with a gaze that could have been annoyed and could have been mildly amused (with her, it seemed, the two emotions so frequently overlapped) and walked away.

--

He tried again the next day, to no avail.

"Still no," she said, sipping at a teacup with all the delicateness of a herd of stampeding chocobos. For all Rosa's well-meaning lessons in court etiquette, Rydia had never quite gotten the hang of the pinky-raise.

"I need to hear your list of objections," Edge said.

"Whatever for?" she asked. One eyebrow went up a fraction of an inch- a good sign, he had learned. He leaned against the nearest wall in what he hoped was a dashing position, which might have, in hindsight, been somewhat marred by the fact that the portrait of his twice-removed ex-Ninja uncle was hanging near his shoulder, and that it was the portrait in which the artist had actually painted the man mid-sneeze. (His father had always kept it up, because he said it had great character.)

He scoffed a little. "So that I can prove them wrong one by one and leave you with no objections whatsoever."

"I don't really think it works like that."

"This is where you are wrong," Edge pointed out. "This is my kingdom, and this is my castle. It works like that within these walls."

It was definitely the wrong thing to say- she hated when he pointed out that he was very rich, and very powerful, and decidedly more rich and more powerful than she. Rydia stood abruptly, didn't even have the manners to finish the tea, and stalked from the room without the curtsy he was allowed as king (despite the fact that he had never, ever been able to make her adhere to that particular rule).

--

He probably should have seen her leaving Eblan coming, since he'd basically asked for it.

--

Damcyan was hotter than an Behemoth in heat, and Edge hated the whole damn place, right down to the tiny little fire insignias that were carved into the flickering torches lighting the halls- not that his face was close enough to the oil-slicked wood to see that, or anything. He was most definitely not stalking her as she moved down the corridor in conversation with King Edward, he was just practicing the finer points of the Ninja toe crawl. In the shadows. A few feet behind them.

Alright, maybe he was stalking.

But it was for a good cause, and that was enough to quell his misgivings about it.

King Edward the Ponce left down a side hall, and Rydia continued to Odin only knew where, and Edge crept along behind her until she stopped in front of a door.

"Greetings," he said, sliding in towards her so that he was hovering just above her shoulder. She jumped a little, which meant he'd won.

"Honestly," she said, a little shakily, with one hand over her heart in a very demure fashion, "I could have killed you with a Bolt spell."

He gave her his best lady-charming grin. "I figured it was worth the risk."

"Did you really think just showing up here after me was going to be enough to change my mind?" she asked.

Okay, maybe he had. "No. But I still haven't heard your objections."

"You are conceited," she said immediately, far too quickly for his liking. He didn't have an immediate response for it, and it was clear by the triumphant expression that flickered across her features that she thought she had won.

"Well, I am king," he started, "but I also know how to be gracious. I will start a fund for the poor who can't send their children to school."

There was a pause; small, but noticeable, and her hand fell away from the knob. "Really?"

"Of course, really," he replied. "I give you my word, and I always keep that."

"Alright," Rydia said. She looked mildly appeased- maybe even a little surprised.

"So will you change your mind?" he asked.

"No," she said, and shut the door in his face.

--

She had the nerve to leave Damcyan for Baron in a hovercraft with some new-fangled tarp over the top that was obviously meant to protect her skin from the blistering desert sun. He was forced to follow in the Falcon III, which did not have such a tarp because it was still only half-repaired from the last time it got taken out under less than ideal conditions- less than ideal meaning he might have drunk half a bottle of Eblan's finest whiskey before piloting.

She showed up before Cecil and Rosa looking radiant and slightly smug, and Edge had to nurse a rather harsh sunburn for three days in town before he was fit to show his face.

--

Rydia didn't even look surprised when he found her in the mage's library beneath Baron's main hall, tucked away in a corner while holding a far-too-thick magical tome in her lap.

"You're getting slow," she said, without preamble, before he got halfway across the room.

"You're beginning to grate my nerves," he answered.

Her expression when she looked up at him over the top of the pages was mild. "Then, pray tell, explain why you continue to follow me."

"Because," he said. And then stopped, because he couldn't quite figure out what was expected to follow that, and he was even less sure if he could have put into words half the things he wanted to say.

She closed the book with a bang that sent dust flying into the air, and stood with her chin held high.

"And that," she said, pointedly, putting the volume back into its spot on the shelf, "is why I will keep saying no."

--

It took him the better part of a week to figure out what she was hinting at. Subtlety had never quite been his forte, and she was playing it in spades, but he finally arrived at the conclusion to which he was quite sure she was leading him towards.

She was in Troia by that time, doing something diplomatic for Cecil that he'd requested during her stay in Baron, and Edge followed in the Falcon III to surprise her.

Unfortunately, she failed to look impressed at the number of words the Dwarven trio was coming up with to rhyme with her name, and she looked even less pleased with the tiny Zu nestlings carrying the large heart-shaped banner.

She refused to speak to him for five whole days afterwards, and snubbed him further by leaving Troia in the dead of night without his knowledge.

--

"Please," he said, in what might have been the most un-kingly fashion he'd ever made a request in. "Please."

Rydia didn't even glance at him, and he was seconds away from actually getting down on his knees (but he would think long and hard before committing himself to something that would no doubt haunt him for years to come).

"I really just don't think you understand," she said calmly.

"Dammit," he swore. "You are making this so difficult."

Her eyes flickered up to his face for a fraction of a second. "Not really."

"Yes, you are," he said, with more force than was perhaps necessary. "Look- will you just look at me for minute?"

Maybe it was his tone, maybe it was the fact that he was treading dangerously near to begging, or maybe she was just feeling more gracious than she had been feeling lately; whatever the case, she turned in his direction, and gave him her full attention.

It was unnerving, but he was in too deep to back out by that point.

"You are infuriating," he said. "You drive me insane, and you never do things properly, and even I can get my manners closer to proper decorum than you can. You behave like you've been raised by dragons, which I think comes pretty close to what actually happened. You don't fall at my feet and you try my patience, and you never think my jokes are funny, which, I'll have you know, they actually are."

Her eyes were a little wider, but he couldn't tell if it was a good sign or a bad sign.

"You burn things down with little regard to how expensive they were, and you blow things up without caring that it might have been a priceless heirloom. You're beautiful, and challenging, and I love the way your eyes flash when you're angry. And this is all ridiculous, because I don't do things like this, and I definitely don't fall in love, and now I've done both."

There was a very long silence that stretched for what seemed like hours, and was probably just a few seconds in which Edge struggled simply to breathe. And then Rydia licked her lips slowly, eyes impossibly large.

"You've done... both?" she asked, and her voice cracked a little at the end.

"Well- yes," he said, backtracking, stumbling a bit over the words. "I appear to be hopelessly in love with you, which makes me a chump."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he sighed, pained, "it makes me a huge, colossal chump, and I think if you would just-"

He never got to finish the thought, because she launched herself at him in a completely un-lady-like fashion to kiss him smartly on the mouth, and it was probably for the best because he really hadn't a clue where that thought had been going anyway.

"Yes," she said in a very breathless manner when she eventually pulled away.

He was confused, and happy, and kind of light-headed. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you," she giggled. "You know, that was all I wanted you to say."

"Oh."

In hindsight, he probably should have figured that one out on his own.

"Though I did want to see if you would follow me all over the Blue Planet," she added, and suddenly she looked very coy, which he was unsure he was a fan of- it would no doubt spell pain in some kind of important place later on.

"You should probably re-imburse me for the fuel I burned up in Falcon III," he suggested helpfully.

Her aim with that Fire spell really had gotten better, after all.