Rating: PG for nudity!
Word Count: 986
Summary: Jun can't handle Nino's... habit.
Notes: Fluff! <3 I wanted to write something light-hearted after my last piece. I'm working on a companion/sequel for that one but wanted something fun. Thanks frazzled_niya for the prompt! She gave me "frankfurters and cheetos" and this is what my twisted brain came up with. Gold star for anyone who can guess this scene comes from.
Nino had a thing, a habit, a tendency that only four people and his mother knew about, and only because they had walked into his apartment unannounced and saw him doing it. Nino liked to be naked. He would sleep naked, walk out from the bathroom after a shower naked (save for the towel draped over his wet hair), lounge around his house naked, and if it were legal he would probably go to work naked.
As long as Nino kept himself decent in the presence of Other People, his band mates didn’t pay attention to Nino’s nakedness. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before. That was until Nino’s apartment got flooded in a freak accident that involved Aiba, an entire box of detergent, and his air-conditioner and was forced to move in with Jun temporarily.
Nino and Jun were “close”, upper management’s code for “fucking”. They had an easy-going relationship that neither felt the need to talk about or label. Nino was entertained by Jun’s ridiculous OCD tendencies and Jun was amused by Nino’s narcolepsy from playing Nintendo late into the night. Whatever it was, it worked for them. But cohabitating was certainly not part of it.
Jun kept a clean house. Not that he lived in it much, but he didn’t relish the thought of coming home from shooting just to wash dishes that had been in the sink for a week and had started to smell. After Nino extended his own welcome, Jun decided there was something grosser than coming home to unwashed dishes and dirty laundry all over his house: Nino’s unwashed dishes and dirty laundry all over his house.
When Nino decided to cook, which was less than seldom, he only cooked one thing: sausages. On rare occasions he would branch out and fry up some bacon, but more often than not he would grill up an entire package of frankfurters, slather them in ketchup and sandwich them between white bread and call it a meal. In addition to eating something with no nutritional value whatsoever (“What? There’s protein in them!”) he would leave the kitchen looking like a bomb site. Nino’s idea of an appropriate side dish was a bowlful of these vile cheese snacks he had discovered in
Finally came the day when Jun snapped. He walked into his apartment, tripping over the shoes in the genkan. “How? He has one pair of shoes!” he muttered. That little shit, he’s been through my closet. Again. Jun could feel rage starting to churn in the pit of his stomach. Stepping over the mountain of shoes, he made his way down the hall to the living room. Nino – in all his nude glory – came to greet his unwilling roommate.
“Welcome home, Jun-tan!” He bounced up and pecked Jun ceremoniously on the cheek. His breath smelt of alcohol.
“What are you doing?” Jun asked warily. If he’d gotten into the wine cellar, Arashi would suddenly become a quartet.
“You know what this place needs? Cocktail hour.” Jun noticed the tumbler of clear liquid on the table next to a plateful of frankfurters. At least it was only the sho-chu. Nino walked towards the coffee table, about to partake in his gourmet meal, sitting down on Jun’s new white couch.
“Nino!!” Jun clenched his fists at his side to keep from throttling the slight figure.
“What?” Nino looked up in utter confusion. Jun took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to five. He’d been the one to teach Sho how to manage his temper, after all.
“No, I… I feel bad.” Jun replied, voice sounding almost genuine.
“Well, I feel bad because Aiba ruined your apartment and you became temporarily homeless and no one else woul-- could take you in… and I’ve been trying to be less frigid and overbearing about your… habits. And I really do want you to feel at home and be yourself while you’re here.” Jun wasn’t known as the host with the most for no reason.
“I know you do, and I appreciate it. You know, my mom wouldn’t let me stay at our house while they’re in
“And I’m almost used to the whole… naked thing. In my house.”
“Oh, whatever! It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.” Nino smirked. Jun’s jaw was starting to ache from grinding his teeth. Jun crossed the living room floor and sat beside Nino on the white couch.
“That’s not the point, Nino. There’s a time and place for everything.” Remember, deep breaths. But I really want to beat him within an inch of his life.
“Like, in bed?”
“For example.” Jun let the sarcasm slip more than he’d intended.
“If it’ll make you feel better, I can put on clothes.”
“No… I want you to be yourself.” Jun let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s just… maybe you could put something between yourself and the white couch.” A look of realization dawned across Nino’s features.
“Oh, I get it. We’ve got a kind of ass-white couch situation here. I will put on shorts.” Jun smiled tightly.
“Anything for you, Jun-tan. You only have to ask.” Hardly ever so agreeable, Nino had surely made a dent in that bottle of sho-chu, Jun decided. Nino tipped forward and kissed Jun affectionately. Jun returned the kiss lightly, before leaning back.
“...Now?” Jun asked pointedly. Nino grinned stupidly as he got up and made his way to the bedroom with an intoxicated grace. “And if you touch the couch with your dirty little hands, no sex for a week! Love you!” Jun called after him. Nino waved back without turning around, which proved too much for his impaired senses as he nearly fell into the dinning room table.