Mousapelli’s Fanfiction » Arashi, One Person’s Happiness

Arashi, One Person’s Happiness

Title: One Person’s Happiness [Aiba/Arashi]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for various members of Arashi displaying their own happiness.
Summary: Aiba loves Arashi like his heart will break with it.
AN: I’ve seriously watched the “Happiness” PV fifty times, and every time I love Arashi more at the end. If i had a band made out of darkeyedwolf, swtjemz, shinigamitabris, and marksykins, that might be the only thing that I would love more than “Happiness” right now.

One Person’s Happiness

Aiba loves Arashi.

He loves Arashi more than anything, more than his mother’s honey walnut prawns, more than his really soft and comfortable pink pants, more than getting up late and driving to the beach and spending the rest of the day lying in the sun.

Aiba loves Arashi so much that sometimes he just grabs the nearest person and squeezes whoever it is until they squeak, trying to transfer some of his feelings from skin to skin so they don’t just build up and up and up until his heart breaks. The others don’t mind, he knows, because sometimes they do it to him too, especially Leader.

Aiba loves Arashi so much that sometimes, when even hugging isn’t enough, he tells them.

“I love you,” he tells Ohno, sitting on Ohno’s coffee table right in front of him. He’s been sitting there for about two and a half minutes, right in front of Ohno, who is sitting on his couch, just waiting for Ohno’s gaze to focus on him properly before he told him. Two and a half minutes is an average amount of time for Ohno to notice someone properly, and the noticing happens in stages.

At first Ohno’s gaze remains vague and apparently watching air, no matter how close you sit to him; Aiba knows (or at least Nino-chan insists) that it’s because Ohno is looking at something inside himself, and therefore doesn’t notice right away when something changes outside.

Then Ohno will notice some random part of you first; this time it’s Aiba’s hair, the perm soft and wavy and still new enough to startle a smile out of the others if he sneaks up on them. Ohno’s hand comes up, slow like the air is thicker than it is, and touches just one flyaway curl a few times, before sinking his fingers in closer to Aiba’s scalp and watching the way the hair falls when he slides his fingers across it. Aiba’s eyes slit in pleasure and he tilts into the touch just a little. He doesn’t mind waiting when it’s like this.

Eventually Ohno’s eyes track over to meet Aiba’s, and Aiba feels the moment when Ohno is fully present like a little electric shock over his skin, like when Jun told him the frayed Christmas tree lights were fine to plug in, really.

“Hi,” Ohno says, grinning like Aiba is the sun on his face when he first wakes up in the morning, and that’s when Aiba tells him, with his hands resting on Ohno’s knees and Ohno’s hand still in his hair.

Ohno doesn’t say it right back, like they’re in some cheesy movie, and that’s one of the things that Aiba loves about him most of all. Ohno waits until later, when it’s perfect, when they are curled up together with rumpled clothes and puffy bottom lips. Aiba’s listening to Ohno’s heartbeat race, and Ohno is playing with his new hair again, still getting used to it.

“I love you,” Ohno says, for no particular reason, and Aiba feels his own heart race to catch up and hopes that Leader never gets used to it.

Aiba tells Sho during dance practice, when the others have drifted over to the side for a water break. Sho stays where he is, running the new steps again, and then again, biting his lower lip in concentration and wrinkling his forehead up when it doesn’t go the way he wants it to. He’s concentrating so hard, his hands curled up into fists and the tension making it worse each time, and Aiba’s heart breaks for him a little in the good way and a little in the bad.

“I love you,” he says, and Sho’s head jerks up because he hadn’t noticed Aiba standing there, and he trips over his own feet and goes crashing to the floor. He stares up at Aiba from the floor, still startled, mouth open a little and face trying to decide whether it’s irritated or surprised.

“That hurt,” he settles on finally, giving Aiba a scowl.

Aiba drops to his knees in front of Sho (which also hurts a little, but he barely notices) and takes Sho’s hands by the wrists. He kisses the palm of each hand, where they’re scraped a little from Sho breaking his fall, then asks Sho if there’s anyplace else he’s hurt.

“Just one,” Sho answers, scowl gone and grin mischievous, and then he pounces Aiba, knocking him backwards, and starts a wrestling match that Nino cheerfully joins when he finally notices what’s going on, until Jun shouts at them that they’re never going to get fucking done this way, and Ohno laughs so hard he has to sling an arm around Jun’s neck for support.

Later on, when they can’t get fired for it, Aiba kisses each and every place Sho is bruised, even the ones he already did, and Sho makes them even by giving Aiba an “I love you” for each kiss.

Nino’s look of triumph is so beautiful in the greenish light that his DS is casting, that the “I love you” just slips out without Aiba even thinking, making Nino look up and blink at him.

“What?” he asks, pupils slowly dilating from the pinpoints they contract into when he stares at the bright screen too long, and Aiba says it again, on purpose this time. Then the game makes a warning sort of sound, and Nino jumps as if he’s forgotten it’s in his hands, then looks down and mumbles, “Give me a second to save.”

Aiba swings his feet in the dressing room chair, not in any hurry. Nino saving takes a lot less time than Leader noticing him properly anyway. When Nino shuts the DS and tosses it aside, Aiba slides out of the chair and hops onto the couch beside Nino, on his knees, bouncing in the cushion a little.

“I died, you know,” Nino informs him, mouth pulling down at the corners, but not in a very convincing manner. “That was the last boss.”

“You can do it again,” Aiba assures, shrugging, thinking about how he’ll get to see Nino’s triumph face again when he does. “That’s what makes it fun, right?”

“You’re a boob,” Nino says, letting Aiba crawl into his lap and push under his hands like a puppy looking to get scratched behind the ears. “It’s a good thing I love you.”

Aiba agrees with every single word of that, and doesn’t object to being scratched behind the ears in the least.

He tells Jun when Jun is fast asleep, in the middle of the night. Jun is on his back, breaths slow and deep, and Aiba is on his stomach, his cheek resting on his crossed arms, watching Jun’s chest rise and fall.

It’s not that he doesn’t want Jun to hear, it’s just that Jun usually punches Aiba when he says it, because that’s how Jun tells all of them how much he loves them too. Aiba doesn’t really mind that either, but punching would spoil the peace of the situation, the way that Jun’s small movements make the mattress shift, and the soft hum of the air conditioner.

“I love you,” he whispers, the pitch of his voice matching the air conditioner’s hum, and then he shivers because it turns out Jun wasn’t sleeping after all, and his words make Jun’s eyes crack open just enough to run over Aiba from head to toe.

There’s sudden movement, Jun rolling both of them to lean over top of Aiba, pinning Aiba’s wrists to the mattress over his head, the sheet twisted in between their waists.

“Do you?” he asks, the light they forgot to turn off earlier glowing gold off his skin and glinting in the dark of his eyes.

“Yeah,” Aiba answers, unable to keep from smiling even though he knows this is one of those times he’s not supposed to. “Yeah, I love you.”

Jun kisses him, thorough and possessive, not even letting air touch Aiba’s mouth until he’s through with it, which he never really is. It makes Aiba dizzy, both the lack of oxygen and Jun’s possession, makes him yank the sheet out from in between them and press tight to as much of Jun’s skin as he can.

Jun always wants so much of Aiba, and any time Aiba can get enough air to speak, he spends it telling Jun to take as much of him as he can.

When the air conditioner is drying the sweat off their skin, Aiba dozes with Jun still curled tight against his back, his own chest rising and falling with Jun’s breaths. Jun’s arms are curled around Aiba’s chest, one hand stroking lazy fingertips over his heartbeat.

“I love you,” Jun says when he thinks Aiba is asleep, then curses when Aiba’s heartbeat hitches.

Ten minutes before showtime, Aiba is standing in the left wing, bouncing on the balls of his feet and taking peeks at the crowd around the edge of the curtain. There are so many signs, hand-made and colorful and beautiful, and Aiba tries to count how many there are for each of them, who has the most.

He gives up because he can’t keep all the numbers straight, and counts the “Arashi ♥” signs instead, because he knows exactly how those fans feel.

Something bumps into his shoulder, and Aiba turns to find Ohno bumping his forehead there, his arms coming to hug Aiba around the chest.

“You knowâ€¦” Ohno starts, but then doesn’t say anything else, just holds onto Aiba and shakes with adrenaline, for once his gaze so sharp it seems like it sees everything about Aiba, inside and out, all at once.

Nino turns up next, looking for Ohno, probably making sure he isn’t ‘accidentally’ starting the concert early again, and makes a little amused noise at the sight of both of them before prying one of Ohno’s arms loose so that he can slip under it and hug Aiba as well.

“There they are, like usual,” Sho says as he and Jun arrive, and Sho joins in the pile as well, hugging Aiba from the front, properly, and still smelling strongly of hairspray from the stylist. Jun punches Aiba in the shoulder, the only space left. Aiba grabs his fist and tugs him closer; Sho gets an arm around Jun’s waist and draws him in.

Nearby, someone yells the five-minute mark.

Aiba grins at Jun, his cheek resting against Sho’s hair, Ohno murmuring something to Nino against his back. “You know, everybody, Iâ€¦”

Four pairs of arms squeeze Aiba suddenly, forcing all the air out of his lungs, squeeze him until he squeaks.

“We all do, moron,” Jun says.

Aiba can’t stop laughing, because he loves Arashi so much that neither hugging it or saying it can keep his heart from breaking, so he just closes his eyes and holds on until it’s time for them to run out under the lights and show everyone.

Maybe, Aiba thinks, singing it will help more.