primroseshows: made by me (jun; rock on homies)
[personal profile] primroseshows
Hi everyone, I have something to figure out for a fic that would take me more than 10 minutes to google the answer for, so as always I turn to you, my intellectual superiors, if anyone is still passing by this LJ! (Because I'm still here too!)

QUESTION: Can you name three female Japanese celebrities that you can see Jun dating? It would be ideal if they were all a similar height, too. If you can only think of two people, then for the third person, please make up a very nice female Japanese name that sounds like a celebrity's?

Any help would be appreciated!

In exchange, here's a snippet of one of my..... numerous WIPs (it's not the one that the above question pertains to though):


On Monday morning, Sho is in the middle of his second newspaper when Jun strides into the green room, stops next to him, takes a crisp, department store paper sack out of his bag, and holds it out to Sho.

Sho looks at it for a moment. Then he looks up at Jun.

"It's for you," Jun explains, with just a hint of exasperation.

"Oh, I see. How nice," Sho says, putting down his news. "What is it?"

"Find out for yourself."

Inside the neatly folded sack is a neatly folded sweater vest. It's cashmere, in a rich dark red colour, and it boasts a medium length v-neck collar which Sho immediately knows would go well with both dress shirts or no shirt at all. Sho holds the sweater up to his chest; it's his size exactly.

"At least try it on," Jun says, plucking the sweater out of Sho's grip and pulling it over Sho's head.

"Oi! I just got my hair styled!" Sho complains, but obediently pushes his arms through the sleeves and straightens the torso over his own t-shirt. He twists from side to side, trying to get a better view of his body, and just barely manages to catch the expression of appreciative satisfaction that flashes across Jun's face.

"Looks fine, good," Jun says, and with a pleased smile, leans down to quickly kiss the edge of Sho's mouth before tossing his bag onto the couch and dashing off to make-up.

Sho, still perched on the sofa, with one hand frozen in the process of smoothing down the shoulders of the vest, can only stare at the spot Jun had just vacated in blank shock. He blinks a few times. Registers the tingling of the left corner of his lips. Realizes the type of interaction that just took place.

"Oh, Jesus," Sho says.

When Nino comes into the room, Sho has not moved a single centimetre, although he has mentally analyzed the past four weeks of interaction with Jun and is fast processing the fifth. He hasn’t yet found any particularly strange behaviour that might shed light on the rationale of Jun’s present, but Sho isn’t very confident in his own ability to pick up “signals.” The last time he'd tried to pick up on "signals," Sho had learned that there was no way to possibly make "I'm sorry I assumed, you just kept grossly staring at me" any less offensive and his brother hated him for weeks for making fun of his swim instructor's lazy eye. This despite many attempts on Sho's part to explain that "grossly" could also mean "very obviously." Clearly that boy's education was lacking; Sho would never have misunderstood vocabulary at that age.

No. Halt. Back on topic. Something must have happened with Jun. Maybe during the tour last month?

"What are you doing?" Nino asks, suddenly materializing out of nowhere. Sho snaps out of his inner turmoil and lowers his arms to his sides in a hasty attempt to look casual.

"Reading," Sho replies, picking up his newspaper noisily.

"Uh huh," Nino says, already bored. He flops onto the couch beside Sho and takes his Gameboy out of his pocket. Sho's not stupid enough to think that Nino hasn't noticed his new apparel, but if Nino is distracted enough by his game-of-the-week to expend any energy haranguing Sho about it, then maybe Sho can get through this day without stabbing himself in the stomach.

Five minutes later, just when Sho thinks he's in the clear, Nino speaks up.

"You're not reading," Nino says mildly, still thumbing at his game.

"I am," Sho insists. "It's not about the sweater. It's not any of your business, anyway."

Nino's eyebrows rise, surprised; Sho feels his gut clench horribly in response -- why does he always say too much when he's nervous?

"I actually meant that you haven't turned a single page since you picked up your paper," Nino says. "So unless that article about rising beef prices really interests you that much, I would guess that something else is holding your attention. A sweater, you said?" His eyes gleam. "That one you're wearing now, I'm assuming."

Sho flinches. Suddenly, Nino's right by his lap and is snaking a hand up Sho's side; Sho's too shocked to giggle. Nino's nimble fingers skim his t-shirt lightly before pulling away, and Sho sees him bring out a price tag, still hanging to the sweater by its plastic thread.

Nino reads the tag, looks up at Sho, and says with interest, "Eh?"

Sho covers his face with his palm.


The sweater had been bought on a whim. It caught Jun's eye right away at the store; perhaps after all those episodes of Mannequin Five, he'd developed an internal sensor for outfits that would look good on the other members. This one that called to Jun was red, professional but simple enough to be worn in casual settings, and with a wider breadth for the shoulders than for the waist, he knew would look perfect on one Sakurai Sho.

To be fair, he had debated whether it would be a good idea to buy it. It wasn't Sho's birthday or any of Arashi's anniversaries (there are a staggering number and although Jun is the only member who bothers to track them, Sho wouldn't attribute this gift to something of the sort because of a noticeable lack of rainbow patterns), and Sho wasn't really the type to accept random gifts. Or was he? Jun had never figured that out. It was hard to judge, when people were as conservatively polite as Sho was.

Well, this wasn't really a gift gift. It was from Jun, and that made a difference.

Or it should have, at least until Jun walks back into the green room after getting his face blushed and hair primped to find the sweater still there, but sans-Sho.

"Jun-kun has really good taste, doesn't he," Nino chirps, the sweater neatly folded beside him as he thumbs at his handheld. "I think you're the only one who would shop at such a fashionable store."

"What are you doing with that?" Jun hisses, striding over. "Give it here. Where's Sho-kun?"

"He got kidnapped by fairies, and this is all that's left of him. I guess they were allergic to certain weaves of wool? Isn't that silly? It's really a nice sweater."

"It's ten in the morning; can't you wait till after lunch to start filling your daily lie quota?" Jun says, sighing. He carefully slides the sweater back into its bag. It goes without saying that he hadn't expected Sho to actually keep it on for today, that would be impractical. He had already been in the outfit the stylists picked out for him when Jun arrived. Sho would prefer to wear it at home, in his own time. Of course.

"I'm trying to break my old record, though," Nino says blithely, without a modicum of shame. Nino often says many tactless things without shame, which is a trait that, depending on the situation, can allow subsequent conversation to be either extremely relieving, or extremely traumatizing.

In Jun's unfortunate case, today has trauma on the schedule.

"So how long have you two been doing the down and dirty?" Nino continues on, blinking up at Jun with wide, innocent eyes. It affords him a perfect view when Jun whips his head around, face lax with shock for less than a second, before he manages to school his expression into something more severe.

"What on earth," Jun says stiffly, "are you talking about."

"It's these phrases I'm picking up from English gaming forums," Nino explains. "You won’t believe the euphemisms they have for sex over in America. Things totally unrelated to anything. The Horizontal Tango is one I figured out last night. They just spit these out like they're jokes! It's like being totally crass without using any crass words."

"That wasn't what I--" Jun starts to say, but then purses his mouth shut to keep down the noise of aggravation that was threatening to well up from deep inside him.

"If you don't want to talk about it, just say so," Nino tells him. "I just wanted to put a time reference to the whole thing. I need to know if the time I accidentally groped Sho-chan's butt last month at Osaka's concert makes me the mistress of this little affair or what."

Inside of Jun, a very concentrated, very contained supernova erupts. Many thoughts hurl through his mind in unison, the majority of which sum up to an all-consuming feeling of, shit.

Outside of Jun, his eyebrows furrow inwards and the edges of his lips pull downwards slightly. He says, “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Nino’s mouth quirks. “Why, do you find it funny?”

“I don’t. At all.”

“Then obviously it’s not a joke.”

Jun takes one large, measured breath. “I really don’t know what goes through your head sometimes.”

“Probably for the best,” Nino says graciously. “That doesn’t change the fact that you and Sho-chan have been rocking the casbah for an as-of-yet nameless amount of time, right under our very noses. I wasn’t sure at first, actually, and I wasn’t going to mention it, because you know me: the very soul of discretion—”

“More like apathy,” Jun mutters.

“But certain events have confirmed my suspicions. And then certain other events forced my hand, so to speak,” Nino finishes. He tosses Jun a very significant look.

Jun’s tone goes as flat and firm as steel; he states, “Sho told you, then.”

“Well, not exactly.”

Jun's eyes narrow as tendrils of dread start to curl in his stomach. “Then what did he say?"

"He said 'ooh-mmmh-od!'" Nino says, sealing his lips and wailing through clenched teeth. "And then he ran out of the room. Then he came back to take off the sweater, then he left again. He looked very guilty," he adds, casting Jun another heavy look.

"Then how did--" Again, Jun stops. "Are you saying that you came to the conclusion -- you're completely – no. No, we're not talking about this now; I've only had three cups of coffee so far today." He takes a deep breath and stares right at Nino. "Whatever you're thinking, stop.”

“I’m thinking that there’s no need to be ashamed of anything,” Nino says.

“I’m not ashamed, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not in a relationship with Sho.”

“Call it whatever you want, then. You guys are canoodling.”

“We are not.” Jun’s fingers clench. “What on earth can I do to make you drop this disgusting topic?”

“You bought Sho a sweater,” Nino says. He’s not teasing anymore, and yet his voice is still light as he asks. “Can we expect to see tacky engagement rings sometime soon?”

Damn. Of course it was the sweater, Jun thinks, mentally kicking himself.
“I’m allowed to buy whatever I want.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

“Then stop making this into something it’s not. It’s – just a sweater.”

Nino shrugs. “Okay. Whatever you say. Not like I'm at all involved in a daily job with either of you two, am I?”

There are probably a multitude of reasons why it's not a good idea to strangle Nino at this very moment, but Jun's suddenly hard-pressed to think of any. It’s one thing for Nino to be so perceptive, but does he have to be so smarmy about it? This isn’t how Jun wanted his morning to pan out.

“If you’re so sure of your own conclusions, why do you even need to ask?” Jun shoots back. “I’m certain that whatever I say won’t change your mind in the slightest. If you could keep your mouth shut before you accidentally start a tabloid rumour, that would be appreciated. In fact. We are going to both forget this little exchange ever took place. I'm going to walk out, then come back in, and things will be normal. Do you understand, Ninomiya?"

“Don’t be so—”

“Do. You. Understand.”

Nino contemplates this for a moment, and Jun sees his gaze dart quickly to the heavy set of steel rings Jun had decided to put on this morning. "No problem," he says easily, pasting a fake smile on his face.

Jun turns, walks out of the green room, then back in.

"Where's Sho-kun?" he asks.

"Washroom," Nino replies, immersed in his game.


Sho has been in the washroom for approximately seven minutes now, thinking realistically about the advantages of plastic surgery. He might be too established in his career that a massive restructuring of his facial features would in any way be advisable, but clearly Sho needs to keep his options open. There is something wrong with his face. Not wrong, like ugly wrong, but wrong, like malfunctioning. There's no other explanation for why Nino can look at a clothing tag, then up at Sho's reaction, and then deduce spontaneously that Sho and Jun are sleeping together. Not even Nino is that good at reading people. Is he? No, he can't be. Can he? No. Unless he was -- no.

Sho's eyebrows must have given something away. Dammit. His fans always told him that they were too expressive. Sho will tell his stylist to tone down the arc at his next salon appointment.

“Sho-chan!” Aiba calls, coming into the washroom. “Early morning poo time for you too?”

“No, not today,” Sho says. “Hey, Aiba-chan, can I ask you something?"

"Do you mind if I go while we talk? I'm already kind of late for make-up."

"No, please go ahead."

Aiba lets himself into a stall and Sho leans back against the sink counter, crossing his arms, wondering how to go into this conversation. Aiba's really an ideal person to talk to about Jun, actually, because Aiba knows Jun very well, and they've confided to each other in the past about personal things, and, most importantly, due to the mysterious force of the universe, Aiba is notoriously amazing at keeping secrets.

But then again, there was that... pact -- agreement -- understanding -- thing. Between Sho and Jun. From that... first time.

Which Jun probably already thinks Sho has violated, now that Nino knows about them.

Oh God, speaking of. How long has Sho been in the washroom? He has to hurry back and bribe Nino's silence before Jun gets back from morning prep.

"Aiba-chan, we rarely give each other gifts, right? To other Arashi members, I mean. Without occasion." Start small, Sho tells himself. At least for now, it's probably best to stick to neutral questions.

"I guess not!" Aiba agrees, after thinking for a second. "Maybe we should, more? I think that'd be nice, Sho-chan! I like ideas of being especially nice to each other. We don't do it enough!"

"Right? I can't recall any times when we gift each other randomly."

"I know! What's up with that? Yesterday I saw Captain give some banana stickers to Nino and last week you gave me the extra buy-one-get-one-free necklace you bought from the mall, and after the last concert Jun-kun treated all of us to dinner and when we first started touring I know Nino secretly snuck hair gel into Jun-kun's hotel room. That's like, only four times in the last two months!"

"Exactly!" No, wait. That's actually much more often than Sho had anticipated, much less recalled. Although dinner doesn't really count, and silly things like stickers and free extras hardly count as formal presents, and certainly not at the same level as designer clothing, and -- hold on. Sho frowns. "Nino snuck into Jun's hotel room while we were on tour?"

Aiba's shoes scuff on the bathroom floor as he lets out a massive fart. "I think he felt like he owed Jun from that last time he borrowed gel without asking because Matsujun got so angry, Sho-chan."

"Why can't he just give it to him in person, then?"

"Oh, you know Nino. He really doesn't like damaging his cheap-guy reputation. He does stuff like that all the time and doesn't think anyone notices, but I'm super smart and figured it out a long time ago. I thought everyone knew, actually? Why do you think your favourite sunglasses magically appeared in your bag after you'd lost them for a week?"

"Nino made fun of me and said they got stolen by fairies!"

"No way, Sho-chan. He accidentally slept on your bag and they got bent out of shape, so he took them and bought you new ones."

"He could have just said so!" Sho sputters, feeling oddly touched. Damn that stupid, sneaky, soft kid.

"No he couldn't have," Aiba says plainly. "It's Nino."

Sadly, Sho has to agree.

"Okay, so let's use Nino as an example. If he were to just give you a present randomly, just you, not anyone else, apropos of nothing -- how would you react to that, Aiba? A real gift. Not something that he got out of a vending machine."

"Hmm," Aiba says. "I guess... suspicion? Then thankfulness?"

"Suspicious gratitude," Sho repeats.

"Like, 'The present is giving me weird feelings because I think you must have some secret plans that include me but thank you for the effort you must have put into whatever it is'."

Reasonable enough. "And what if Satoshi-kun was the one who gave you the gift?"

"It'd just be thankfulness!" Aiba says eagerly. "Leader gives really heartfelt presents, don't you think?"

"Yes he does."

"But I would also be confused. Because Leader rarely gives big presents, so I'd wonder what the reason is. Maybe he has a psychic revelation and know I was going to die soon and so gets me a pre-funeral gift. And the moment I open the present I'll understand its meaning and know that it signals that my time on Earth is coming to an end."

"Aiba-chan. That's not funny," Sho admonishes.

"It would be if the gift was a magic eight ball. That showed jokes." The toilet flushes and Aiba comes out of the stall, adjusting his belt. "Anyway, it's silly to worry. I made Leader promise me a long time ago not to tell me if he figures out how I die, so I'd just like the present for the present."

Sho moves aside so Aiba can wash his hands. He's almost afraid to ask the next question, but he plows ahead. "What if it was Jun-kun who got you something?"

Aiba, rinsing his hands under the tap, freezes and turns to look at Sho with interest. "Did Matsujun get you a gift, Sho-chan?" he says very seriously.

Sho blanches. "I'm speaking hypothetically."

Aiba's eyebrows pinch together. "Oh. Well. In that case. I guess I would just thank him."

"You wouldn't ask him what the occasion was?" Sho asks hopefully.

Aiba gives him a look. "I don't think Matsujun would appreciate that, Sho-chan. Remember the time that he got disappointed with us for forgetting the anniversary of our first Golden Time VSA episode? It's not like we even had food or anything prepared! He just expected us to know."

Sho groans; he hadn't remembered that at all, but now it's all coming back: Jun's irritated sighs, his short-tempered attitude, the way that after ten minutes of silence between them in the dressing room, he had crossed his arms and huffed out, "Well?"

"But whatever, right?" Aiba continues. "That's just Matsujun for you. If we kept track of all those dates and stuff, then we'd be Matsujun and then there'd be a group of five Matsujuns running around and that's no good. Ah, maybe just a little good. But not as good."

Sho often deals with Aiba's logic in much the same way that he handles travelling through a detour. Forced to travel in a direction he hadn't intended to from the beginning, he's never quite sure where he's going to end up, but he has no choice but to follow through.

"No, not as good," Sho says, resigned.

Aiba straightens his shirt and they head out of the men's room.

"What did you have for dinner yesterday, by the way?" Sho thinks to ask. "That was quite a bowel movement you had there. I'm surprised the toilet flushed normally."

Aiba beams. "It felt great! I made burritos, that Mexican thing. I put in way too many beans though. I felt like Popeye afterwards."

"I thought Popeye ate spinach."

"Well, why not," Aiba says easily. "I'm sure he ate a lot of different things."

if you can't tell, this is supposed to be a humourous fic orz

PS. How is it that another school year is coming to a close? This shit is ridiculous. Something is wrong with our planet's gravity. I simply refuse to believe that days, months, and years pass by this quickly. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I ACTUALLY FINISHED A FIC OH MY GOD
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