[Arashi] Five stories that may just break your brain; aka "The Clint Collection"

Okay, big warning first:

This post is not for the easily offended, faint of heart and sensitive! I mean it!


This whole post started out with darkeyedwolf's insistence on making jokes about Nino and Clint Eastwood. It quickly evolved into a bizarre battle of inspiration that lead to


...this.


"This" being five stories (vaguely fitting the "five things" meme) between approximately 100 and 2.500 words, all dealing with Clint Eastwood being paired with various members of Arashi. Yes, Clint Eastwood. And Arashi. Together. Oh, and SMAP's Nakai and ABC's Kawai make a short appearance, too.


This post is not meant to be offensive. I am in no ways affiliated with either Arashi, SMAP, the rest of Johnny's Entertainment or Mr. Clint Eastwood; and though I abuse all of them so in my stories, I have nothing but the deepest respect for them.

I do, however, have a mean sense of humour, so, again, big warning sign:

IN THESE STORIES CLINT EASTWOOD IS INVOLVED ROMANTICALLY WITH SEVERAL GUYS FROM ARASHI. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THE THOUGHT OF THIS OFFENDS YOU!

If you do read and decide that nothing can calm your ruffled sensibilities but flaming me... well, go ahead, if you must. Just don't say I didn't warn you appropriately beforehand. And really, you should rather send those flames to darkeyedwolf, she's got a much larger friendslist to amuse.


OK, I consider you all appropriately warned, so let's go ahead with the fics:

Four Times Arashi Came Into Contact With Clint Eastwood And One Time He Freaked Out Nakai.


1. Phone call

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: ClintxNino, Ohmiya (both implied)
Word Count: 533

Summary: Sho plays protector to his friends



The phone rang, just as they were getting out the popcorn and the image of the tacky and way too huge Oscar statue was coming up on screen. Ohno, who was nearest to the hallway and the phone, went to pick it up. A few seconds later he came back, phone in hand, expression vaguely puzzled.

"It's Director Clint," he explained. Nino looked up eagerly and held out his hand.
"It's for me, right?" he asked. Ohno's brow creased even more deeply.
"Actually, he wants to speak to Sho" he said. Jun and Aiba looked up in surprise, but Sho just disentangled himself from his place in the middle of the couch and walked into the direction of the kitchen, taking the phone with him.
"What does he want with Sho?" Nino asked. He sounded rather hurt. Jun kicked him.
"He's the only one of us who can speak English, dumbass!" he reminded Nino. "He's probably supposed to translate whatever message Director Clint has for you." He snorted. "Not that I think you need any more messages, you're head is way too swollen already, anyway!"

In the ensuing fight, none of the other three noticed Ohno slipping out.



"NO! I've already told you!"
Ohno frowned again. Sho normally didn't hiss like this. Actually, Sho normally never hissed. That was more Jun's habit. He couldn't quite understand what Sho was saying - although he did understand the "no", something that made him a bit pleased with himself - but Sho didn't sound happy. Actually, he sounded everything but happy, as his voice turned into a low growl that he normally only used during his raps.
"He's twenty-three, you horny bastard! That makes him fifty-three years younger than you! And no, I don't care that you've got a daughter who is younger than him, that makes it even worse!" Sho paused, obviously listening to the other end. Ohno decided to enter the kitchen. He couldn't understand Sho's words anyway and besides, he had spotted the ginger on the table Sho was leaning against.

"No, you can't" Sho said tiredly and rubbed his eyes. Ohno moved next to him and pressed himself against Sho's side, while he started to nibble on the ginger. It usually calmed his bandmates down when he did that.
Sho straightened up. His body tensed.
"Listen closely, old man!" he said threateningly. "You remember that Gangsta-attitude you congratulated me on the first time you saw me? Well, my attitude and me are gonna fuck you up, mister! And no, I don't care that I probably learned that phrase from one of your movies, because, guess what? I might have attitude, but my friend’s got rings and fingernails. Painted fingernails. So keep your wrinkly hands from our Nino, or I swear, the last thing you see in this life is going to be Jun's maniacal smile!" Sho paused and looked over to Ohno, who was staring vaguely off into space, with a little bit of ginger still stuck to his lower lip. Sho smiled.
"Oh, and Mr. Eastwood?" he said. "By the way: He's already taken."


~…~…~…~…~…~




2. Clay

Rating: R
Pairing: ClintxOhno
Word count: 124
Summary: playing around


Sighing a bit, Ohno leaned back into Clint, who chuckled and kissed the top of his head. Pleased with himself and the situation, Ohno smiled contentedly and started kneading and pulling the hard, wet material under his hands, letting his fingers glide over the top, pressing down with his thumb a bit lower, rubbing and teasing all the way down. He felt Clint's hands joining his, adding a bit of gentle pressure, guiding him firmly into certain places. His mind slipped away, he was nothing but feel and smell and... Clint's voice interrupted him, sounding a bit puzzled. "Satoshi," he asked in English, a language Ohno had gotten much better at in the last year, "why does this statue we're making look like Ninomiya?”


~…~…~…~…~…~




3. Boyfriends

Rating: PG-13 to R
Pairing: NakaixOhno, implied other Ohno-centric pairings
Word Count: 561
Summary: Nakai and Ohno are alone in a hotel room together and Nakai’s conscience decides that this would be a good moment to arise.


Nakai broke the kiss gently and pulled Ohno upright. Ohno blinked at him and put his arms around his shoulders again. Nakai laughed breathlessly.
“Your sweater,” he pointed out. “Let’s take it off, okay? I…” he couldn’t go on, because Ohno’s lips had formed a half-smile and when they were smiling, those lips were nearly as irresistible as when they were pouting. Five minutes later, though, Nakai was finally able to complete his first task and pull Ohno’s pullover over his head. Ohno emerged, blinking dazedly, his hair in even greater disarray than normal and his cheeks a bright red. He lay down on the bed again and smiled up at Nakai trustfully.
Nakai couldn’t help smiling back at him, but suddenly the situation became real, too real. He knew that Ohno was a grown man, who could probably take care of himself easily, but there was something in him, despite all their teasing, despite the show he made on TV about wanting to kill Ohno, that made him want to gather the younger man in his arms and protect him – a sentiment which he really wasn't used to.

He reached down to stroke Ohno’s bare shoulder and looked to the side, at the tasteless still life print the hotel owner had put into this room.
“So…” he coughed uncomfortably, “…are you really sure about this?” He risked a small glance at Ohno’s face – who was staring at him with a confused expression. Nakai tightened his grip on Ohno’s shoulder.
“I mean…” he coughed again, “won’t your boyfriend be jealous?”
“Boyfriend?” Ohno said vaguely. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Nakai stared at him suspiciously.
“You don’t? And what about your friend Nino?”
Ohno thought about that.
“I don’t think he will be jealous.” He finally said. “He sometimes is a bit mad when I sleep with Jun, but that’s only when he’s had a bad day and Jun annoyed him. And he never says anything about Aiba-chan.”

Nakai caught his voice, just before it was about to go onto a small weekend-trip to Vegas.
“So… you and Jun.” he said. “And Nino. And – Aiba-chan. But you haven’t got a boyfriend.”
Ohno stared at him with a puzzled frown.
“They’re not my boyfriends,” he explained. “They’re Arashi.” Apparently, this was a completely logical and thus undisputable argument for him. Then he stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “Well, there was also Director Clint…", he said, "but I don’t think he could be called my boyfriend. He’s too old to be a boyfriend. Also, he likes Sho and Nino better than me. So he’s not my boyfriend, is he?” He looked up at Nakai questioningly.
Nakai swallowed and belatedly remembered to shut his mouth again.
“Uhm… no, I don’t think Clint Eastwood could be considered your boyfriend…” he said faintly, his thoughts reeling. And here he’d thought that he was too old for Ohno!
He shook his head, anger rising inside him. What could Ninomiya have been thinking, introducing an apparently lecherous old man to his innocent…
An insistent tug on his t-shirt interrupted his thoughts. Apparently, Ohno had decided that Nakai was taking far too long thinking, when everything was so simple and clear, really.

Nakai smiled crookedly and gently lowered himself onto Ohno's body.
He stared into Ohno’s eyes.
Ohno stared back, waiting.
Nakai sighed softly and dropped another gentle kiss onto Ohno’s lips.
“If I were a better man, I’d get my things and drive you home,” he whispered softly. “But I’m not.”
This time, he crushed his lips to Ohno’s and forced his way inside.



~…~…~…~…~…~






4. Father

Pairing: ClintxSho - kinky ClintxSho at that
Rating: ...R, I think. Maybe NC-17 for the topic, the kinks and possibly scarring images
Word Count: 2,518
Summary: "... it brings rushing back the memories of the time when he was young and his discipline was not as iron as it is these days..."

Note: I feel sort of dirty that I actually LOOKED UP Eastwood's biography to write this...




The first time Clint Eastwood watches “Arashi no Shukudai-kun” it is entirely by accident. It is the end of November, pretty much exactly the middle between the release of his two movies and he’s back home for a bit to spend some time with his family. Unfortunately, his wife and daughter have taken just this day off to go shopping in LA (though he’s not quite sure why a nine-year old needs to go shopping, he figures it’s a girl-thing) and none of his other six children and their offspring are due to visit, so in the end he finds himself lounging on the couch of his TV-room, flipping through the channels.
He’s rich, he’s got five children and one grand-child under the age of 21 and a huge-ass screen: of course he has a lot of channels to flip through, including foreign ones. (Even Italian ones, though he’s never figured out, why – the Italian western belonged to the most traumatizing things he ever did, considering that they worked on a really low budget half the time, which consequently meant that all their pyrotechnic experts had to be extremely inventive, which sort of equalled being completely and utterly insane bordering suicidal.)

Somehow, he lands on a Japanese channel – he thinks it’s “NihonTV”, but he isn’t altogether sure – and is surprised to see one of his actors from “Iwo Jima” in some kind of talk-show. He knew before that Ninomiya does a lot of work on TV, even heard that his band has its own TV-show (something rather baffling for him considering that it’s a pop boyband) but it still is strange to see the young man he worked with only a very few weeks before in a totally different environment. He stays on the channel to watch a bit more. He’s fond of Nino who, at heart, is still a child and who still has a child’s capability to act with nothing but a figurative stick as props. At first he isn’t quite sure who the guest is supposed to be on this show, but after having observed the way his young actor keeps on touching the boy next to him, going as far as resting his head on the boy’s shoulder at one point, he figures that the other good-looking young men around Nino are probably the members of his band and that this is probably one of their shows.

The show is fairly entertaining, even though he doesn’t understand a lot of words. To his surprise they don’t seem to do all that much talking with the guests (who, he thinks, are probably the pretty young lady and the older man – maybe her co-star in something?). Instead they eat some kind of beans – again he’s fairly unsure, but it seems to be the Japanese speciality “natto” – in combination with a rather strange variety of other food, spaghetti, for example.

He doesn’t really take much notice of anyone but the pretty young lady and Nino, who, to his amusement, acts a lot like his son – who is also a musician, albeit more inclined to Jazz – when he was about the same age. The only thing he notices about the others is that they are all quite handsome (he briefly envies the older man, who has the luck of being surrounded by so much young beauty, but quickly suppresses the sentiment) and that the young man next to the actress has the kind of haircut he had when he did the first “Dirty Harry” movie back in 1971.

This changes abruptly, though, when they come to the last dish on the table: the beans and something that looks a lot like maple syrup. The young lady tastes the two ingredients mixed (and maybe it’s not maple syrup but some kind of tar, at least it’s got the same kind of texture, though the colour is a bit lighter) and starts making a lot of nearly moaning sounds that leave him shifting a bit uncomfortably on the couch; though nearly not nearly as uncomfortable as he is the next moment, when the older man starts saying things in rapid Japanese and suddenly the young man with the “Dirty Harry” haircut breaks out with a shouted “Otou-san!”.

Clint gasps and presses a hand against his heart as his blood gathers somewhere else abruptly. He knows the meaning of that word – how could he not, when Nino uses it in one of his strongest scenes in the movie while he’s talking to his unborn baby – and it brings rushing back the memories of the time when he was young and his discipline was not as iron as it is these days; the time when he refused to have children with his first wife because of his fetish, this huge and unforgiving secret that nearly drove him mad and that he only managed to lock in the darkest closet in his mind when his wife became nearly fatally ill.

He switches off the TV immediately, cuts off the laughter that ensued after the young man’s – and how is he called anyway, Clint thinks irritably, the guy has to have a name he can use! – outbreak.
He steps to the window, looking outside without seeing the beautiful landscape. His mind is in turmoil, wondering what he is supposed to do.


The next morning, he calls the people who were in charge of the casting in Japan. As calmly and disinterestedly as he can, he asks them about pictures or posters of Nino with the rest of his band.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-



“So, you say that with that merge they can keep their employees?” Sho’s brow furrows in thought. “But that is not what usually happens when two companies merge.”
Clint has to keep himself from reaching out and smoothing the small wrinkles on Sho’s forehead away. Luckily he’s got Nino sitting between them.
“You’re, of course, absolutely right”, he answers Sho’s question. “But I do believe they can do it.”
Sho hums, not quite agreeing, but conceding the point. Clint squashes the urge to latch his mouth to Sho’s throat, just to feel that hum on his tongue. Instead he turns to the other four Arashi members.
Ohno, who’s sitting directly across from him (apparently being the oldest and the leader of the band makes him highest in Arashi’s hierarchy and thus entitled to the place at the other end of the table, something Clint wouldn’t really have expected from the others’ treatment of him) is shovelling food into his mouth with quiet concentration, not paying any attention the things going on around him. Matsumoto, sitting on his left, is talking to Nino (who’s sitting on Clint’s right) in quiet Japanese. Clint can’t blame them. He and Sho have been talking about economy and world politics for the last half an hour; and while Clint has thoroughly enjoyed this sparkling, intelligent conversation, it must have been tedious for the other four, whose English isn’t quite good enough to follow those topics. His eyes fall on Aiba, who is sitting on Nino’s other side and he suppresses a smile. Aiba is trying to eat some chicken wings with a fork and a knife and failing miserably.
Clint looks over to Sho again for a moment, who is just now watching Aiba with a concerned look on his face. Smiling slightly, Clint puts his knife and fork away.

“This chicken is awefully hard to eat, don’t you think?” he remarks conversationally and picks up his own chicken wing with his fingers. “How lucky that eating with your fingers is acceptable here in America!” Clint heartily bites into his chicken and basks in the warm feeling that arises when Sho quickly translates his words for Aiba, Aiba’s face lights up and Sho casts a grateful look at him.



After dinner, Clint leads the whole group into his TV-room. With one button on the remote, he makes some of the panels on his walls slide to the side, revealing the giant screen, an up-to-date gaming console with four controllers and shelves full of games, collected and stored here by various of the children and teenagers related to him, who regard his house as their own.

Nino gives a sort of high-pitched whine and nearly falls over the sofa in his haste to get near the console. His friends follow a bit more sedately, but even in the eyes of cool Matsumoto Clint can see the sparkle of excitement.

The only one to stay near him is Sho. Clint turns to him.
“I’m sorry; I’ve only got those four controllers.”
Sho shakes his head and smiles.
“It’s OK”, he replies. “You made them happy.”
Clint smiles as well.
“You expressed some interest in the house, when you came here. Would you care for a tour?” he suggests. Sho smiles at him beatifically and eagerly consents.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-



“And this,” Clint says with a grand gesture, “is my personal study.” He winks at Sho. “Invited guests only!”
Sho smiles politely, but he can’t quite hide the blush creeping up his neck.
This time, Clint can’t keep himself from putting his arm around the young man’s shoulders. Changing his gesture into something he hopes seems innocuous, he steers Sho over to his desk.
“Look at this”, he says, pride in his voice as he strokes the wood with his free hand. “Isn’t it beautiful? Real oak, more than one hundred and fifty years old. It belonged to Millard Fillmore, the thirteenth president of the States, back when he still had an office in his law firm.”
“It’s beautiful”, Sho acknowledges and lays his hand onto the warm wood, stroking it softly. He looks so tender at this moment, so calm and serene, that Clint can’t help himself: He covers Sho’s hand with his own and squeezes it slightly.
Startled, Sho looks up. For a moment his own eyes widen and his breath hitches slightly, as he sees the truth in Clint’s eyes. Then he closes his eyes and leans forward slightly.
Clint takes the invitation immediately. Circling Sho’s waist with his left arm, he uses his right hand to tilt the young man’s head a bit. Then he kisses him, first gently, but soon, as Sho gives no sign of discomfort, with greater insistence.

For some minutes, they kiss each other passionately, until Sho suddenly wrestles himself away. His face is flushed and he’s panting.
“Wait…” he says, “Nino and the others… they are still downstairs…”
Clint tries to control himself. He understands Sho’s concerns, but they are alone, they are in his personal study where not even his daughter and granddaughter (aka “the infernal duo” – should Clint ever write a book on child-raising he will firmly advice fathers to make sure their daughters are not the same age as their aunts) will disturb him and Sho is flushed and pretty and they were kissing just a moment ago. He’s too old to miss out on this opportunity. He holds Sho close and kisses him again.

He would like to say that Sho melts against him, but Sho is a muscular young man and unlike some of his band-mates he’s not half-feline, so that would be a lie. But that’s okay – actually it’s more than okay, Clint decides hazily, as Sho’s strong hands grip his shoulders hard. Sho’s body keeps a dancer’s explosive energy and he is clearly used to leading the sexual encounters he has (natural top or just unused to homosexual contact? Clint wonders) and Clint finds himself unexpectedly turned on by Sho’s attempt to take charge.
Less on-turning is the way Sho stops their kiss again, even though through their close proximity Clint can clearly feel that Sho is not unaffected at all.

Sho searches his face, his eyes dark and concerned.
“What about Nino?” he asks again. “You’re his director!”
Clint smiles a bit sadly, the absurdity of their situation coming to his mind.
“What about my wife?” he asks back softly. “I’m her husband.”
Sho’s eyes widen, he bites his lip guiltily. Clearly that is a thought that hadn’t crossed his mind before.
Clint smiles again, reassuring this time.
“It’s okay,” he says. “This,” he gesticulates between the two of them, “is not love. It’s…” he searches for the right word, “it’s an urge I want to give in to, something that has been inside of me for a long time.” It’s partly true, since he plans to address the thing he’s talking about later on anyway, and it helps, because Sho’s eyes soften and his look turns compassionate.
Of course.
Japanese celebrities can admit to being homosexual even less than their American counterparts can. No doubt Sho’s awareness of the fact that at least one of his friends will have to live a lie, and his pity for Clint having – as he without doubt believes – had to do the same for his whole life sways him.

With a small, encouraging, though slightly nervous smile he leans back against Clint’s grand oak desk and sighs softly as Clint’s fingers – surprisingly nimble even with the beginning of arthritis in them – start unbuttoning his white dress-shirt.
“Mmmhhhh…” he says, as Clint starts kissing down his neck. One of his hands is resting on Clint’s shoulders while the other one is running through his scanty hair and over the bald front of his head. “Is there anything you would like me to do?” he asks as he stretches his neck some more.

Clint pauses and looks at him searchingly. Sho looks back, a bit puzzled but calm, and Clint decides to risk it.
He smiles that kind of smile that won over not only two wives but also one long-term and a lot of short-term girl-friends (and Charlton Heston, but they were both young and drunk and they decided never ever to talk about it) and says, in his most reasonable, professional voice:
“Well, I wouldn’t mind being called “father”.”

Sho’s hand grips his shoulder hard enough to bruise. Clint winces, but smiles even wider. Sho stays still otherwise, something that surprises Clint a bit, but his eyes clearly betray his shock.

For a moment they stare silently at each other and for this one horrible moment, Clint is sure that he’s blown it, that Sho will run away in disgust, maybe even tell his friends about this.
He forgets, though, that despite his role as the “sane” one on “Arashi no Shukudai-kun”, Sho is still a member of JE and thus impervious to levels of weirdness that far surpass Clint’s request. (The clothes worn onstage in JE, for example, are a whole level of weirdness in and of themselves; and when it comes to the Juniors – well, boys who start plucking their eyebrows at the age of eleven and would never go outside without at least a bit of eyeliner are what is considered normal there.)

After his short moment of consideration, Sho smiles back at Clint wickedly. He slips his arms around Clint’s neck and leans in to whisper against his lips:
“Would you like me to call you a naughty daddy, then?”

Clint pushes him onto the desk.


~…~…~…~…~…~




5. Matsumoto Jun’s Revenge

Pairing: None at all, only Arashi/Clint friendship
Rating: PG
Word count: 700
Summary: Arashi and Clint sit in a restaurant together and Jun unexpectedly gets a chance at getting back at ABC’s Kawai Fumito…



They were sitting comfortably together in the restaurant, lingering over wine and dessert, when the topic came up.

“You need a Japanese actor?” Nino asked eagerly, his eyes bright.
Clint Eastwood laughed.
“Well, I do need an Asian actor, but the character is going to be a really dirty, stupid and unpleasant fellow, so I wouldn’t want you to play him. The role wouldn’t fit you at all!”
Nino’s face fell a bit after he translated this in his head, but he was still curious.
“You don’t …doesn’t…?” his brow furrowed as he tried to think of the right grammar.
“Don’t”, Clint helped out. Nino nodded.
“Yes, you don’t need us, but you…” he made an expressive hand gesture, “…why?”
“Why I still came to you, you mean?” Clint asked. “Well, it’s because I was here in Japan anyway, so I thought I might get your input on fleshing this character out – I want you to help me invent him”, he added when even Sho looked a bit puzzled at his words.

The other young men around him brightened, when Sho had finished translating the sentence for them and leaned forward.
“You want… name? Age?” Jun asked.
“Yes, a name for him, how he looks like, what he wears, how he moves… that sort of thing. He’s supposed to be an informant who goes between the Chinese triads, the Italian mafia and the Russian mafyia, so he’s an important role in the movie, but he’s supposed to be very slimy and sleazy, like a rat, who’d sell his own grandmother for the right prize. He’s also going to die a very unpleasant death, so I’d like him to be as unsympathetic as possible, without making him into a caricature. I thought you might help me with that.”

After Sho had translated again, the four young men were quiet, thinking about his words. Suddenly, Jun started to grin widely.
“Name,” he said, “is Kawai.”

Clint took out a notebook.
“K-a-w-a-i-“, he wrote down.
“That word can be a name, but it can mean “cute”, too”, Sho explained. Clint grinned.
“Well, that certainly is a fittingly unfitting name for a guy like that!” he joked. Then he looked at Jun again.
“Hair…” Jun stretched out his hand and touched Sho’s hair. “Like this, the cut. Only…” he said something to Sho in Japanese.
“Straight, not a bit curly, like mine”, Sho explained in English. “And the colour is more like Ohno’s.”
Clint raised an eyebrow as he wrote those things down. That was certainly a very detailed description and it didn’t help that the whole group, apart from Ohno, was grinning like a bunch of maniacs by now.
Aiba said something in Japanese, pointing at Nino.

“Small and thin, like Nino”, Sho translated.

“But not like me, not like me!” Nino said. “He…” he thought for a moment, “…he does this with his shirt. A lot.” He mimicked ripping his shirt off. Sho, Aiba and Jun broke into wild laughter. Even Ohno was grinning now, apparently having caught onto the joke.

Clint chuckled. He had the strong suspicion the boys were doing a prank on an unsuspecting friend. The idea of helping them with it made him feel a bit giddy himself. No man ever got too old for pranks.

Aiba had jumped up.
“And this!” he shouted. “Look! This!” he bent his knees with his thighs firmly closed and his torso leaning forward a bit, but with his feet apart, which made him look like a child that really had to go to the toilet.

Jun and Nino were clapping enthusiastically, nearly shrieking in laughter. Even Sho had his head in his hands and laughed helplessly.

Clint couldn’t help it: He was laughing too, as he wrote the last things down.
“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to see that Kawai guy myself?” he asked Jun amusedly.
Jun thought for a moment.
“Yes”, he agreed. Then his brow furrowed. “This man… he dies? At the end, he dies?” he asked.
Clint’s lips twitched.
“I’m going to let his limbs be ripped from his body slowly, one at a time”, he promised solemnly.

Jun’s grin turned feral.
“Good”, he said. “Very good!”

~…~…~…~…~…~