Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/468170.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Arashi_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Aiba_Masaki/Matsumoto_Jun
  Character:
      Aiba_Masaki, Matsumoto_Jun
  Collections:
      Merry_Month_of_Masturbation_2011
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-07-24 Words: 2146
****** Adolescent Confluence ******
by tangiblewhimsy
Summary
     For the Merry Month of Masturbation 2011 meme on LJ.
     Original request-
     Who: Jun
     Where: Aiba's bedroom
     What: apartment sitting, touching Aiba's things...
     Extra: owner returns home sooner than anticipated? :D?
Jun bowed low to Aiba's mother as she left him in her son's room. He had been
willing to leave, to come back later. Or not at all. This was the first time
he'd ever ventured out to visit the older boy alone, and without any kind of
specific invitation. But Aiba's mother had been quite welcoming and insisted
he'd be back from baseball practice soon enough.
Jun would never understand how being alone could be infinitely more awkward
than being surrounded by people. Maybe it was because the people he was
typically surrounded by were boys his own age, and they were all determined to
ignore their awkwardness because they weren't kids anymore. They were cool and
skilled and totally knew what they were doing.
Only when it was just Jun alone in a quiet room, he was at a loss. There wasn't
a camera to smile at, a teacher to impress. There weren't steps to learn or
music to listen to. Looking around the room, he sought some type of
distraction.
Aiba's room was definitely... well, Aiba's. His bed was haphazardly made and
there was an uneven pile of textbooks with loose leafs of paper curling between
the bindings sitting on the floor. One of his dresser drawers didn't shut right
because there was a quarter length of a pair of jeans sticking out of the
corner and nearly every surface was crammed with clutter. Over a suspiciously
tidy desk was a cork board with cut outs and photos that caught Jun's attention
because he saw a lot of his own face staring back at him.
Admittedly it wasn't just him. There were plenty of Ninomiya and Ikuta, of
Yamapi and Subaru. But there were a lot of Jun. Either with other boys or
alone, sometimes with Aiba himself. It made Jun's face warm, and he swallowed
guiltily as he turned away from the board sharply.
In the tiny room there wasn't really anywhere for Jun to go or to hide. He
slipped his backpack off and dropped it on the floor, sitting for a moment on
Aiba's bed. Curling his toes into the carpet, he probably wouldn't have noticed
the familiar crinkle of glossy paper if he hadn't been looking for a
distraction. Picking up his left foot, Jun frowned as he spied a flesh-hued
corner of magazine peeking out from under the lip of Aiba's bed.
Giving a furtive look to the closed bedroom door, Jun's eyes darted back to the
hidden magazine. Aiba's collection was legendary among the other boys. No one
quite knew how he got his hands on everything he did, but if you had an
interest there was a strong chance Aiba had something to suite your needs. And
he wasn't shy about sharing.
Reaching down, he tugged the corner of the page out and discovered a full page
spread of a woman with ridiculously large breasts and brightly colored nipples.
Jun gave a small frown, pulling the magazine to him more properly and beginning
to flip through the pages.
Whatever this publication was didn't seem really for him. There were a lot of
foreign women, and some that just had bad bleach jobs. None of them really
looked like they were having a lot of fun in his opinion. Until he got towards
the back of the skinrag and found more than just bored models posing. In
particular, there was a kind of cute woman with great legs in an incredibly
open position. But what really got the heat flowing from his face down south
was the guy. The angle of the camera made it so his head wasn't in the picture,
of course, but he had a great tan and a flat stomach and whatever he was doing
it seemed he was a lot better at it than any of the guys in previous pictures.
The pair's spread covered four pages, the likes of which Jun poured over for
longer than he really should have. It wasn't until he shifted on the bed,
taking in a deep breath, that he realized the mistake he'd made.
Jun's cheeks burned as he realized he was sitting in a friend's bedroom with a
stiffy and a dirty magazine. Courtesy dictated that he should be ashamed by
this fact but cold pragmatism told him that it happened. He should just... Deal
with it. Before Aiba came home.
Not wanting to attract undue attention by sneaking into the bathroom, Jun took
another look at the door before giving another sigh and lying back on the bed.
He dropped the magazine onto the duvet beside him and closed his eyes,
breathing deeply as he tried to stop his fingers from trembling as he tugged at
his belt and fly. He just had to get it done and over with and then pretend
this never happened.
Although as he dipped his hand into the front of his boxers and began massaging
himself gently, Jun couldn't help sighing. The attention seemed a relief, one
he wasn't able to indulge in half as often as unwanted or unexpected erections
occurred. Ringing the head of his cock lightly, Jun pressed his lips against
the back of his free wrist as he felt himself sag a bit into the bed.
He thought about those legs, those of the woman in the magazine. He thought
about how long and smooth they looked, how pale the skin was. And he thought
about those broad, tanned hands on her hips; thick, long cock pushing in and
out.
Jun bit his wrist but gave a soft whimper as his grip tightened and he felt
himself tingle even lower. He smeared the drip of precum down, helping him get
more friction as he tugged at himself more firmly. He imagined his own legs,
pale and long, also spread wide. Warm, sun-kissed hands on him a the bump of a
flat stomach pressing against the back of his thighs as he was pounded into—
Downstairs a door slammed. There was a split second where Jun lay frozen on the
bed, hand in his pants, and listened. Then there was the rapid thunder of
someone bounding up stairs and Jun swung his legs off of the bed in such a
hurry he kicked blankets and some papers out of their piles. Fear drenched Jun
almost entirely, and he worked trying to put himself back together. He couldn't
navigate the belt or the button, but he managed to gingerly get his zipper most
of the way up and had dragged his backpack over to rest across his knees right
as Aiba burst through his bedroom door.
"MatsuJun!" The older boy said delightedly, rushing over to Jun to give him a
hello hug. Jun tried not to think about the way his cock throbbed because Aiba
smelled of sunshine and sweat and somehow that was insanely hot. Emphasis on
insane.
When Jun didn't hug him back, Aiba was mostly unoffended (since Jun was always
a funny kid like that). He had been surprised when his mother had told him he
had a visitor, but happy. Jun had never come to visit him, even when asked.
Aiba had been about to give the boy a fake pout at not being properly greeted
when he spied one of his magazines on the bed and blinked. And then realized
Jun couldn't seem to make eye-contact with him and was distinctly pink.
"AH!" Aiba stood up immediately and Jun's shoulders set in a hard line. He was
prepared to completely die of embarrassment, face going from pink to red as he
stared at a spot on Aiba's carpet.
But rather than be ridiculed or accused, Aiba crawled across the bed and
scooped up the magazine. Scooting back over to Jun, Aiba kicked a leg out
behind the boy and opened up the publication curiously.
"I interrupted, didn't I?" He asked as if he hadn't just walked in on a boy
jerking off in his bed.
Jun's eyes went wide but he didn't dare turn to look. Aiba was still warm from
being outside in the nice weather and playing sports and he was pressed too
close and god damn it, why wouldn't his erection just go away?
When Jun didn't say anything, Aiba just smiled into the pages of the magazine.
He opened it to one of the pages Jun had been admiring and held it out
helpfully.
"Did you want to finish?" he asked, tilting his head forward to try and see
Jun's face.
Jun couldn't tell if Aiba was teasing him or not. If he was, it was completely
cruel and Jun would have to reconsider their friendship. But when Jun didn't
say anything and only appeared to be getting more upset by the moment, Aiba
took a chance.
Reaching out a hand slowly so that Jun could see what he was doing, Aiba tugged
at the backpack in the boy's lap until Jun let it slip. He reached between
Jun's legs and even though Jun trembled, all Aiba did at first was rub.
The attention was enough to make Jun gasp, all of the air he'd been holding
onto releasing as his jaw clenched. Aiba gave a breathy giggle at Jun's
shoulder, but wrapped his second arm around Jun's waist so that he wouldn't
pull away.
"MatsuJun, you should know better than to stop when you get this far," Aiba
chided, as if Jun had made some kind of silly mistake. It made Jun want to turn
and bite out something sharp, but Aiba managed to get his zipper back down as
he opened his mouth and the only thing that came out was a breathy moan.
Jun couldn't help himself, gripping his jeans tightly as Aiba began to jerk him
off slowly. It almost hurt at first, the interruption and the panic, but then
Aiba got into a rhythm and Jun's breathing grew shallow. Aiba was holding the
magazine out before him with his unoccupied hand, but though Jun was facing it
he wasn't looking.
He was looking across the room at the board of photos and magazine cut-outs. Of
the dozens of places Aiba's bright smile shone out at him, of a picture where
Aiba was hugging him, dragging him into a picture. Sunlight shining on the huge
birthmark across his shoulder and making his hair glow almost red. And then
there were Aiba's hands, just as warm, on him. Aiba's soft smile pressed into
his shoulder and—
"Aiba-kun—"
Even though he was sure it didn't happen, Jun thought heard his name before
cumming into Aiba's hand.
Jun was panting, sagging back against Aiba's chest. Aiba continued to stroke
him easily in his boxers, humming something (something stupid, Jun thought
drowsily) against his hair. Even if it earned him a punch later, Aiba gave Jun
a soft peck on the top of his head as he got up, careful not to drag his hand
all over Jun's clothing.
Underneath the bed was a little box of wetnaps, ferreted away for likely just
this purpose. Aiba dragged a few out, cleaning his hand before giving a few
clean ones to Jun. He pulled out a trashcan for Jun to throw his wipes into
when he was done and then dropped himself back down onto the bed with a bounce.
He picked up the dirty magazine again and began flipping through it, completely
at ease as Jun pulled his pants back together and fastened his belt.
"Mn, I really like this one," Aiba commented vaguely, turning through the pages
at a casual pace. Sitting back up he rolled the magazine up and offered it to
Jun. "Did you want to borrow it?"
Jun realized he hadn't really said anything, although he really wasn't
sure...what he was supposed to say. He looked at Aiba's hand on the newspaper,
broad with long, tanned fingers that had just moments ago been wrapped around
him. Swallowing thickly, Jun felt his face grow warm again.
"Sure," he said giving a curt nod and accepting the magazine. Jun had bent over
to pick up his backpack, beginning to tuck the article into his bag, when Aiba
slipped off the bed and began to suddenly dig under it with great interest. Jun
couldn't help staring.
"If you liked that, you've got to see this," the older boy looked up at Jun
with a huge grin, tugging a huge plastic bin out from under his bed. It was
labeled "COMICS" in Aiba's almost indecipherable scrawl, but when he pulled
open the lid it as clear that there was nothing in the bin but porn.
Jun's eyes widened in disbelief as he slid off the bed and joined Aiba on the
floor, embarrassment momentarily forgotten. "I've never seen so many in my
life."
"I know, right?" Aiba giggled, riffling through the rows with impressive
expertise.
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