[Real Person Slash] [Arashi (MatsuJun/Aiba), R] Problem

[Title] Problem
[Author] honooko
[Rating] R/NC-17
[Notes] Many huge thanks to kitsch_brigade, for repeatedly saying things that ended up being lines of Aiba. AWESOME. ♥

Aiba, MatsuJun noted with some curiosity, was nervous. He could tell, because when Aiba-chan got nervous, he ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t do it as often anymore, because it was harder to come up with an excuse for doing it when his hair was short. But Aiba let his guard down around his friends, and that was how Jun found himself watching over the top of his book as the older boy fidgeted around the break room, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Aiba-chan,” Jun said. “Sit down.”

And because Aiba never said no to MatsuJun (unless MatsuJun was being really mean, and then Aiba preferred to watch where he wasn’t in the line of fire), he ran his fingers through his hair and shuffled over to the couch, where he sat down. Or draped himself across Jun’s lap, as it were. Sighing dramatically, Aiba flopped, picking at a piece of fuzz on the sofa cushion.

He sighed again, louder than before, peeking up at MatsuJun, who had lifted his arms obligingly out of the way of Aiba’s sprawl.

“…Yes?”

“Mattsun.”

“Aiba-chan.”

“I have a problem.”

Jun only barely bit back his initial response of, ‘I can see that.’

“Oh?”

Aiba nodded, rolling over so his head was in Jun’s lap. Automatically, Jun threaded his fingers through Aiba’s hair, petting absently. Aiba hummed happily to himself, pressing his head up against Jun’s hand. Smiling behind the safety of his book, Jun continued to indulge him, dragging his fingernails across Aiba’s scalp lightly. Satisfied that Aiba was at least no longer wearing a hole in the floor, Jun’s attention returned to his book.

“Jun-chan! I haven’t told you about my problem yet!”

Recognizing that he wouldn’t be able to turn another page until Aiba’s woes were waylaid, Jun sighed and shut his book, setting it on the small end table next to him. Giving Aiba’s his blandest ‘Sawada Shin’ expression, he said, “Yes?”

Sitting up suddenly, Aiba tucked his legs under him, facing Jun gravely.

“It’s a big problem, Mattsun.”

“Okay.”

“Really, really big.”

“Apparently.”

“Really--“

“Aiba-chan, what is it?”

In between one breath and the next, Aiba was straddling his lap, lips pressed to Jun’s. The younger boy’s hands went to Aiba’s waist, but even he wasn’t sure whether it was to steady him or to push him away. And then his mouth was opening and Aiba’s hand was clenching in the hair at the nape of his neck and.

Aiba’s tongue curled against his, and Jun swore he’d never been kissed like that before.

He moaned into the kiss, startled at how easy it was to make out with one of his best friends. Aiba giggled, angling his head and lapping, catlike, at Jun’s mouth. Feeling the teasing was quite unfair, Jun’s hand cupped the back of Aiba’s head (gently, gently) and he dragged the older boy back in again, the kissing becoming more hurried, more fevered. Aiba growled, pulling back and sucking at the underside of Jun’s jaw. Groaning his appreciation, Jun slipped a hand under the back of Aiba’s shirt, his fingertips dancing across his friend’s spine. Aiba giggled again (which Jun should have expected; it was Aiba-chan) and rocked his hips forwards, leaving no doubt in Jun’s mind that the older boy was enjoying the attention. Boldly, Aiba grabbed Jun’s hand and pressed it against his pants.

“See?” Aiba murmured, breath hot and damp on Jun’s ear. “A big problem.”

And it was such a stupid thing to say, and Jun really shouldn’t have found it as arousing as he did. But no matter how absurd it was, it was Aiba-chan, and somehow that made it even hotter than it had the right to be. And with his hand pressed against Aiba, he felt the warmth, felt the hardness, and he wondered idly whether jumping Aiba right there, right then, would be foolish.

He rolled his palm and Aiba moaned, long and drawn-out and low. His naturally husky voice sent shivers down Jun’s spine and he realized at that very moment that he could either get sex now, or he’d be taking a very cold shower very soon.

“Aiba,” he gasped as Aiba scraped his teeth lightly across the pulse at his throat. “Aiba-chan, stop.”

Aiba pulled back, frowning. His lips were red and swollen and his hair was mussed, and Jun was relatively sure that had this image been photographed, it would have qualified as porn.

“No good?” Aiba asked, sounding worried. “Um, what else does Jun-chan like? We can do that!”

“What—no, good. Fine. Just, Aiba-chan. Is this—is this okay?”

Aiba cocked his head, confused.

“Is what okay?”

“This,” Jun said, gesturing vaguely at their position. “Making out. And—stuff.”

“What, you mean sex?” Aiba clarified, grinning. “Why not? It’s fun!”

Jun found he had no response. Words were driven even further from his mind when Aiba slid off his lap and knelt between his knees. Deftly, he popped open Jun’s pants button with one hand, before leaning forward and carefully taking the zipper in his teeth. Jun hissed as Aiba eased the metal tab down, finding it unbelievably cruel to have Aiba’s mouth so close to him. Aiba giggled to himself before tugging at Jun’s waistband, and when the younger boy lifted his hips, Aiba wasted no time in pulling them down past his knees. A quiet moan climbed out of Jun’s throat as Aiba paused over him, his eyes dark and his breath panting across the head of Jun’s erection.

“Ready, Mattsun?” Aiba asked, and without waiting for an answer, he licked. Jun’s head snapped back, cracking against the wall, but even he wasn’t sure if the stars he saw were from the blow to his head, or the blow to his head.

“Oh fuck, Aiba—“ Jun choked as Aiba’s lips closed around him. It was hot and wet and then Aiba flicked his tongue against the heavy weight in his mouth, driving any sense of coherency from Jun’s mind. Aiba licked and sucked and bobbed his head and Jun couldn’t even begin to wonder where the hell the older boy had learned that. Then Aiba swallowed him, deep and fast, and hummed. The sensation was intense; Jun cried out, not caring about how loud he was. Just when he began to shudder, Aiba pulled away.

“So pretty, Mattsun,” he murmured against the flushed skin of Jun’s collar. “But it’s my turn now, ne?”

Jun wove his fingers through Aiba’s hair, dragging his head up and sealing his mouth with a possessive kiss. Standing, Jun turned and knocked Aiba back onto the couch, pressing him into the cushions eagerly. He palmed the tight front of Aiba’s jeans, growling into the kiss as Aiba writhed beneath him.

“Smartest thing you’ve said today.”

Aiba moaned, arching up against Jun’s hand. In a flash, Jun hand his pants undone, and the older boy was more than happy to divest himself of his t-shirt. Jun kicked off his pants and threw his shirt aside hurriedly, returning immediately to kiss Aiba fast and hard. Aiba wriggled, sliding his pants off and giggling as Jun nibbled his way down Aiba’s neck.

“Juuuuun-chaaaan,” Aiba whined. “Want you—“

“I know,” Jun purred. “Masaki, we need—“

“In my shoe.”

“…What?”

“It’s in my shoe, look.”

Completely taken aback, Jun checked the loafer Aiba-chan had kicked off. Sure enough, tucked inside was a tube. Holding it up, Jun looked at his friend with an astonished expression.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asked, baffled. Aiba-chan had the grace to look sheepish.

“Ummm… anyway,” Aiba babbled, waving Jun back to him. Chuckling, Jun obeyed, leaning over to kiss the older boy deeply, giving him a few quick pumps. Aiba groaned, gripping Jun’s bicep a little desperately. Sensing Aiba’s urgency, Jun squeezed a general amount of lube onto his fingers before circling and pressing a finger in. Aiba gasped, biting down on his lip.

“Jun-chan, s’okay,” he murmured. “’Nother one.”

Nodding, Jun carefully added another digit, curling his finger towards him. Aiba cried out, bucking against the younger boy’s hand. Panting shallowly, Aiba rocked his hips eagerly, and Jun couldn’t quite bite back a groan at the sight. He added a third finger, scissoring and stretching carefully as Aiba scrabbled at his bare shoulders. Satisfied, he pulled his hand away. Aiba whimpered and clung to Jun, clearly protesting the loss of contact. Jun wasted no time in applying more gel to himself, then sliding into his friend slowly. He choked, struggling to keep from thrusting hard and fast, but he couldn’t risk hurting Aiba. He wouldn’t risk it, not ever.

“Shit, Masaki. So good.” Jun panted, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow. Aiba simply moaned in response, wrapping his legs around Jun’s waist and pulling him closer, deeper. They rocked together, gasping and murmuring as the younger boy thrust into his friend, drawing them nearer and nearer to the edge.

“Jun-chan, need—“ Aiba gasped, and Jun’s hand was there, stroking him. Starting to shudder, Aiba keened, arching his back as he came. As Aiba’s muscles tightened around Jun, white stars burst across his vision. He moaned, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out. He started to get up, but Aiba’s arms wrapped around his neck, and tugged him down for a sloppy kiss.

“Mmm, Mattsun, you’re good at that,” he purred against Jun’s lips. “Let’s do it again!”

“What, now?” Jun asked, wondering (not for the first time) where in hell Aiba’s energy came from. But the taller boy giggled and shook his head.

“No, no. Some other time. Later!” Aiba clarified brightly, scooting aside on the couch and pulling Jun down next to him. Once satisfied that Jun was settled, he tangled his legs with the younger boy’s and pressed his nose to Jun’s collarbone.

“Aiba?”

“Hmm?”

“…Would anyone have—have worked?” Jun asked, careful to mask any insecurity in his voice. Aiba pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, caring and reverent.

“I wanted you, Jun-chan,” Aiba said softly. After a beat, Jun brushed the sweaty bangs away from Aiba’s face and kissed him sweetly.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

Aiba just smiled.

END