Arashi, You Can’t Help But Grow Hot

Title: You Can’t Help But Grow Hot [Ohno/Arashi]
Rating/Warnings: PG because Jun is a slut.
Summary: Sometimes Ohno feels like he might explode of it.
AN: Short, but inspired entirely by the first 20 minutes of the AAA Taipei concert, which is hotter than hell. Title from the song “Dramatic” by Base Ball Bear (“熱くなれるだけ”).

You Can’t Help But Grow Hot

They had exactly 2 minutes and 25 seconds to change after they dropped through the stage. Ohno knew because they had practiced the change over and over to make it smooth, and because he’d timed it at the beginning by seeing how far he could get through “Sunrise Nippon” before they had to be back on the stage.

It was more than long enough to give Ohno a chance to reach out, eyes momentarily stunned by the dim after the blinding stage lights, and grab whoever was nearest.

Sometimes he got Jun, who would snap at Ohno to let him go immediately, complaining that Ohno was sweaty and wrinkling his costume and they didn’t have time for this. He’d glare and his eyes would make Ohno shiver, catching whatever light was available, not just bright from irritation, but sharp with stage-lust and adrenaline, like Ohno was the girl in the first row that Jun had picked to make fall in love with him, to make it look like the swirl and twist of his body was only for her, knowing full well that nobody, especially not his bandmates, was immune to the effect.

Other times Ohno got Aiba, who would hug back, fierce and too tight, bouncing on his toes still even now that the music had stopped for a few moments, and only the muffled sounds of their own amplified voices were coming through the floor. Aiba would press so hard against Ohno that Ohno could feel Aiba hard against his thigh, and knew that Aiba would feel him as well. Aiba’s back would be burning under Ohno’s hands and against his chest, energy and joy pouring off Aiba’s skin like solar flares curled off the sun during an eclipse, until Ohno had to release him or be scalded by it.

Sho would put up with Ohno for about five seconds, squeezing back, before saying, “Leggo, Leader!” and wriggling if Ohno didn’t comply right away, the slick fabric of his costume making him hard to hold on to. Ohno would hold on as long as he could, his own body following the sleek wriggle of Sho’s, until Sho finally would slip his hold and dart out of his reach and call him a pervert, and sometimes shove a half-dressed Aiba into Ohno’s path to distract him so he could get changed too.

“Oh-chan?” is the one that makes Ohno grin wide and hard, though, because this time he’s caught Nino, and Nino doesn’t mind being caught without pushing away or catching Ohno in return, just lets Ohno pull him close until they’re pressed together, chests and foreheads, both of them panting from the stage. “Your heart’s beating like crazy.”

“Yeah,” Ohno agrees, letting his eyes slip shut and just feeling the hammering of Nino’s heart against his own. He wants to tell Nino more, about how his heart feels it might burst with the stage and the fans and the lights, how when the floor under his feet throbs with the beat of the song, Arashi’s song, he can’t possibly keep from dancing as though he wants to die of it, and how when he looks across the stage to see them, all of them, doing the same, he feels like if he weren’t singing as hard as he could already, he’d be screaming it, and if he weren’t radiating exhilaration from every cell in his body, he would explode of it.

He wants to tell Nino all of that, but he’s panting too hard to get any words out, and his throat’s busy humming “Sunrise Nippon,” so he hugs him instead, tighter when Nino says, voice just a touch hoarse already from the singing, “Me too, mine is too.”

“God, do you two even want to go back on stage?!” Jun barks right about then, and then Ohno and Nino are tugged apart, Jun’s hand rough and Aiba’s hands hot and Sho’s hands teasing as they yank off the old costumes and shove on the new ones, and Nino snaps back, “Are we Arashi or aren’t we?” and Ohno can’t stop laughing or hugging anybody he can get his hands on.

Because he does, Ohno thinks when the lights burst on for COOL & SOUL, glad they are seated because his knees are weak with the thrill of it and his heart is pounding like it’ll never stop. Because they are.

Halfway through, Nino’s sweat-slick hand slaps down over Ohno’s in a low-five, and Ohno grabs it, curling their fingers tight together so he can feel Nino’s pulse shuddering against his own. When he looks over, Nino is grinning at him, lit up like summer fireworks even when the spotlight skips away. Me too.

And Ohno closes his eyes, stage lights burning through his eyelids, because if he turns and sees the others, all of them, doing the same, his heart might explode of it.

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