You know, I feel like we've been talking about this story for almost as long as we've been friends, and you know so much about what I think about it already. But in reading it now, my eyes stung and my chest ached like I was reading it for the first time.
I feel like Sho -- I don't know. Like I heard him better this time. When he sprawls out over them and watches the movie, when he tells Jun how nice it must be to have someone to watch movies with, when he doesn't say that he wants to come back but he does say he wants to know if he can. When he tells Jun uncertainly that he thinks they can be friends again. That's what he wants, isn't it? It's not so much that he misses sleeping with them. He misses being with them, and that's what happens when you open doors like this. You forget how to love each other in any other way.
And Aiba and Jun, We want everyone to love us, especially when we know they can't -- that's heartbreaking, not because they want something they can't have, but that they have it already, Arashi has always loved each other and they still love each other. But Aiba and Jun don't remember how to see it, and Nino, Ohno and Sho don't remember how they used to show it.
Out of all completely bizarre places for the tears to well up, it was this line that set me off: Jun only sighs and lies back, allowing Aiba to undress him. Aiba grunts indignantly and Jun realizes his face is starting to hurt from smiling. I didn't expect that it would, honestly, or at least not for these reasons, but I read it and thought, They're going to be okay. Not just Aiba and Jun, and Nino and Ohno, but Sho, too, and Arashi together, too. They can have this experience and they can fuck it up like this, and in the end, they'll be okay. It's really strangely hopeful, in a way.
Oh, c4m, ilusm. Your ability to map out the darkest little corners of the human heart so gracefully is just astounding.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2009-05-14 02:29 am (UTC)I feel like Sho -- I don't know. Like I heard him better this time. When he sprawls out over them and watches the movie, when he tells Jun how nice it must be to have someone to watch movies with, when he doesn't say that he wants to come back but he does say he wants to know if he can. When he tells Jun uncertainly that he thinks they can be friends again. That's what he wants, isn't it? It's not so much that he misses sleeping with them. He misses being with them, and that's what happens when you open doors like this. You forget how to love each other in any other way.
And Aiba and Jun, We want everyone to love us, especially when we know they can't -- that's heartbreaking, not because they want something they can't have, but that they have it already, Arashi has always loved each other and they still love each other. But Aiba and Jun don't remember how to see it, and Nino, Ohno and Sho don't remember how they used to show it.
Out of all completely bizarre places for the tears to well up, it was this line that set me off: Jun only sighs and lies back, allowing Aiba to undress him. Aiba grunts indignantly and Jun realizes his face is starting to hurt from smiling. I didn't expect that it would, honestly, or at least not for these reasons, but I read it and thought, They're going to be okay. Not just Aiba and Jun, and Nino and Ohno, but Sho, too, and Arashi together, too. They can have this experience and they can fuck it up like this, and in the end, they'll be okay. It's really strangely hopeful, in a way.
Oh, c4m, ilusm. Your ability to map out the darkest little corners of the human heart so gracefully is just astounding.