(one-shot) soul mates - jehols
Just archiving.
Title: Soul Mates
Author: fingeredheart
Pairing/Group: Jin/Kame, Jin/Yamapi (friendship), Kame/Koki (friendship), Yamapi/OC, hints of Jin/Ueda, Kame/Ueda, Kame/Koizumi, Jin/OC. Groups include KAT-TUN & NEWS.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst (but not overly excessive, at least I hope not), includes mentions of het, future!fic.
Notes: For fionnakreuz @ je_holiday 2009. Huge thanks to my beta quinnsan ♥ Flashbacks are in italics. Originally posted here.
Summary: “You’re the only star in my sky.” Twenty years in KAT-TUN and five years after retirement from Johnny’s, Kame and Jin are finally starting to mend what they’ve broken.
The city lights are bright and blinding, the faint whiff of smoke just within his reach. The doorway to the bar is dim against the background of city noise, distant music drowned out by the honks and shouts of nighttime.
As he steps inside, the music increases to a steady beat, rhythm surging through the dance floor as he approaches the counter.
“Something strong,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth beneath the rough sear of the music, and the bartender nods, giving the counter one last swipe before heading away in search of his drink. With a heavy sigh, he weighs himself down onto a stool, nursing his throbbing head with tired fingers.
“Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice causes him to glance sideways through the cracks of his fingers, lips drawn tightly as he attempts to suppress his surprise. The other man sends him a look just as the bartender slides a drink down the counter, a misty, suspicious-looking liquid sloshing against the edges. Furrowing his eyebrows, Jin reaches for the glass, allowing himself a moment’s worth of inspection before chancing a sip, eyes darkly pointed at Yamapi from over the rim.
“Kamenashi called me.”
Yamapi returns his gaze unwaveringly, smile tucked into his cheeks like a hidden, unwelcome promise. “Good?” He chooses to ignore the previously given comment.
Without answering directly, Jin swivels his stool towards the counter, barely wincing at the loud, rusty scrape of metal against metal as he does so. “What is this, alcohol with brown food coloring?” His voice carries no hint of resentment as he watches the bartender’s shrug for an answer, nor does he show any sign of discomfort of the fact that he is aware of Yamapi, who is staring at him intensely.
Raising an eyebrow and nodding, Jin raises the glass for another sip before setting it down in front of him and cupping both hands around it. His posture relaxes a little, hair falling in a perfect curve along the side of his face as he bores his gaze deep into the mist of his drink.
“You should just yell at them if it’s bad,” Yamapi finally speaks up, raising his own drink and swinging his leg over the stool to face Jin. “You’re always too nice half the time.”
Jin gives a short laugh, glancing down into his lap before raising his gaze to meet Yamapi’s, features casting elegant half-shadows from the spinning lights of the dance floor. “I try,” he replies almost nonchalantly, and tips the rest of the glass down his throat, the liquid burning inside his chest as he swallows it.
“No, you are,” with an edge in his voice, Yamapi emphasizes the word with something resembling remorse. “Don’t you deny it.” His eyes flicker with an unspoken dare, filled to the brim with too much knowing, and Jin shrugs languidly, too lazy to put up a fight.
“How is she?”
Inhaling sharply, Yamapi twirls his glass between his forefingers, refusing to meet the other’s gaze. “We’re getting married next month.”
Mouth forming a silent O, Jin ponders this for a moment. Finally, he hunches forward, shifting back on the stool to let his legs dangle a few millimeters above the ground. “Congratulations,” he comments, reaching over to give Yamapi a clap on the back.
With a measured look, Yamapi gauges his friend’s response tentatively. “We’d like it if you came,” he says finally, voice in all solemnity. To his surprise, Jin immediately returns it with a large smile, spinning around to lean back on the counter.
“Of course I’m going. Why wouldn’t I?”
After a second’s pause, Yamapi just shakes his head, swallowing back the words that linger on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah,” he replies softly, moving his hand to rest on Jin’s shoulder as a responsive gesture. “Yeah.”
(Thank you, he means to say, I owe you forever, but he knows words are no use - never enough for what Jin’s done, what Jin’s given up for him.)
Through the midst of his reminiscence, Yamapi turns at Jin’s suddenly slightly uncomfortable movements only to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, surrounded by several others. As they draw closer to the light, he can just barely make out the face contours, the darkened lines of Kame and Ueda’s profiles, along with a few of the guys he and Jin used to regularly club with, back when they were still Johnny’s and had to find the right, good guys to help them keep low profiles outside of their careers.
Ryo is also hanging around in the back, hands tucked into his pockets and the rim of his baseball cap overshadowing his eyes. “Hey, stranger,” Yamapi greets when he nears, letting the remainder of the crowd fall in a circle between him and Jin.
“Long time no see,” comes the answer, and Yamapi gives a half-smile. They both flick their glances over a couple vaguely familiar, anonymous heads to see how Jin’s side is faring.
Jin’s having a difficult time trying to judge his own internal reactions at seeing Kame again, especially after all these years. After a long silence of him working and testing silent syllables around with his tongue, he ends up settling with just, “Hey.”
Kame nods, seemingly neither pleased nor discontent. “Hey,” he returns altogether too easily, and pulls up a stool, gesturing as if into the far distance. “I brought some of your troops, too.”
Jin can’t help but snort, pushing back his empty glass towards the far end of the counter. “You shouldn’t have. What if you got caught? That would totally destroy your image.”
This time, it’s Kame’s turn to snort. “Too old for images,” he crosses his legs, jeans tight and worn along the edges. “How have you been?”
With a faked gasp, Jin blinks exaggeratedly, falling back into a nearby friend (he thinks it’s Kusano, maybe, but he can’t really tell from his standpoint)’s arms before instantly regaining his posture, amidst a couple chuckles as well as an amused raised eyebrow from Kame. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you’d care enough to ask, Kamenashi.”
Equally monotonous and perhaps sarcastic in tone, Kame laughs, “You’re just blind, Akanishi. I’ve always cared so, so much.”
Yamapi takes this advantage to cut into their conversation, bursting with curious knowledge. “Didn’t you get engaged, Kame? I heard a few months back.”
Barely flinching, Kame nods curtly. “I did.” There’s a short silence from the surrounding people, music pounding loud in their ears, but when he shows no sign of continuing, conversations begin to start up again. Narrowing his eyes, Jin peers through the loud noise and messy bangs at Kame, whose gaze is directed at his hands lying in his own lap.
Opening his mouth, Jin is just about to work up the courage to call the other’s name when Kame’s head snaps up on his own, eyes looking particularly unreadable and almost, almost vulnerable. (Something about it strikes a chord in Jin, something like the clueless Kame from all those years ago, memories stuck between the dripping sweat and dusty costumes and impossible dance steps of the Junior studios.)
--
The boy is shorter than he, hair sticking up in tufts and eyebrows unbearably bushy. His face is a complete representation of vulnerability, of reluctance - it doesn’t take much for Jin to figure out that he doesn’t want to be here, judging by the slight drag of his steps and obvious discontent in his eyes.
Against his better will, Jin steps up to the plate, offering an overly cheerful greeting as he tries to penetrate into the boy’s cynical gaze. “I’m Akanishi Jin!” He chirrups, hair flopping over his forehead and smile bright, a cover thrown over his own anxiety. “What’s your name?”
The boy blinks, looking almost as if Jin has just asked him to ponder the meaning of his existence on Earth. Just as Jin is about to give up and back away as slowly and inconspicuously as possible (he is positive that is the most foolproof plan out of awkward situations such as this one), the boy’s lips quirk upwards into a half-hopeful smile, eyes flickering. “Kamenashi Kazuya,” he answers in what Jin later comes to know as the Kame-like tone, completely unreadable but not unfriendly (as for the current first meeting, Jin is at an absolute loss as to how he pulls it off).
Recovering quickly from his stupor, Jin grins. “It’s nice to meet you, Kamenashi Kazuya-kun.”
Somehow, something about the way he says it makes the other boy smile, teeth a flash of white, a brief spark ignited in his eyes. And somehow, something about that smile makes words, usually so easy, become stuck in Jin’s throat, makes desire, never before known, tangle inside his heart.
--
Slowly, Jin looks downwards at Kame’s hands resting in his lap, fingers entwined together tightly, blurred beneath the shady lighting of the bar. There is no hint of existence of a ring on any finger, much less where it’s supposed to be, and it begins to dawn upon Jin. He brings his gaze back upwards to rest on Kame’s face, the outline of regret in the depth of dark brown eyes.
There’s a sort of expectance in Kame’s voice when he speaks. “We broke up,” he says in response to the question that forms in Jin’s eyes. “A month ago.”
It takes only a moment for Jin to absorb the information, stare unwavering. Finally, with a practiced, composed air, he tilts his head and gives Kame his best clueless look. “Who are you talking about?”
Kame laughs out loud, moving to clasp his hands around the stem of the glass passed towards him. He glances sideways to gauge the sincerity of Jin’s attempts, downing the glass fully before speaking again. “Thanks.”
“If she’s stupid enough to do that, then she won’t be worth remembering anymore,” Jin shrugs his shoulders a bit tightly.
“I wish I could take it that easily.” With a sigh, Kame lowers his head onto his hands, palms pressed against the cool surface of the countertop. “I really thought she was the one.”
“Let me guess,” bravely, Jin closes the distance between them, lowering his own head to meet Kame eye-level. “She thought you were in love with someone else.”
Closing his eyes, Kame breathes in the faint scent of Jin’s cologne and sweat, how he can sense the other’s presence even behind closed eyelids and total darkness. “No,” he whispers, blowing out his breath onto the countertop. “She thought I was in love with you.”
Jin’s presence draws away as Kame opens his eyes, observing the familiar curious glint in Jin’s eyes. “We’re still talking about Koizumi here, right? Am I missing the big picture?”
Wearily, Kame nods, raising himself up to nurse his temple with two fingers. “There is no big picture anymore. And yes, we are talking about Koizumi. Who the hell else?”
Shrugging for the umpteenth time tonight, Jin orders another glass before turning back to Kame. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you best anymore,” he says in a conversational manner, but the statement lingers awkwardly around their heads for longer than it’s meant to. Kame breaks the silence with another barely audible sigh.
“But,” Jin continues after the hesitation, “I thought you already clarified our…status.”
He’s surprised to hear a bitter laugh from Kame’s mouth, and twists around in his seat to blink at the younger man. Kame glances at him, lips turning downwards in a split second’s grimace. “What is our status, Akanishi?”
“Friends,” is the automatic reply, but Kame can tell the other regrets writing it off so easily a second later. To compensate, Jin smoothes an unsteady hand across the counter, shakes his head to himself. “Well, no. More and less than that.” He closes one eye and squints, as if the answer is engraved somewhere on the countertop, but Kame knows he’s just trying to avoid having to meet his gaze.
“Not lovers,” Kame offers carefully.
“Better not.” Flicking two fingers against the edge of the counter, Jin finally looks back to him, eyes confident. “Soul mates,” he states solemnly, raising a hand as if to make some kind of elaborate gesture to emphasize his point. “You’re the only star in my sky.”
“So what am I, a blade of grass you step on?” They both turn to see Ueda as he sits down on a spare stool nearby, hair falling in neat strands to reach his shoulders. “I’d have thought after so many years, I’d made some kind of progress.”
A smile plays across Kame’s face, forehead creasing in delicate amusement. “You’re caught, Akanishi.”
Sticking his tongue out in reply, Jin looks directly at Ueda. “You are,” he hesitates for exaggerated suspense, “a satellite.” Unconfident in his answer, Jin bites his lip, pauses for another bit. “Or you could be the moon.”
Ueda laughs lightly. “Wow, don’t I feel special. I get to disappear every month.”
Jin shakes his head vehemently. “You have to see it my way. You’re inconstant in my life.”
Raising an eyebrow, Ueda inclines his head. “And I suppose Kamenashi is so much more constant?”
This somewhat frustrates Jin, who narrows his eyes in dissent. “Are you trying to get at something?”
“Perhaps,” Ueda says with only a suggesting tone, “What he really is to you.”
There’s a clearing of throat from Kame, face blank of emotion when he flashes a masked smile. “I really do appreciate you guys talking about me in front of my face.”
Contrary to his expectations, Ueda ignores him, pressing onwards with the topic he’s introduced, and obviously wanted to for quite some time. “Akanishi,” he says, making Jin’s head turn uncertainly. “Do you understand what I’m getting at?”
Kame discomfort is clear in his shifting on the stool, elbow propping up to lean on the counter. “Ueda,” he interrupts carefully, “maybe - ”
“Shut up,” Ueda’s tone is almost harsh, quiet, as he turns to Kame. “Just shut up, Kame. Please. You’ve interrupted me for twenty-five years, you and him both. You guys - you guys just need to stop being idiots. You both are, but just try and not be for once, fucking once, with all your soul mate crap,” he waves a hand in Jin’s direction, who is staring at him in shock, “And your…sob story about some old lady you’ve only kept trying to convince yourself you’ve loved for the past fifteen years of your life. You still wonder why she thinks you’re in love with someone else? Why she thinks you’re in love with him?” He jabs a finger into Jin’s chest, muted fury swirling inside his gaze as he eyes them both. “You two sit and think about it. I’m not going to be your counselor, good grief.” He hops off his stool, spinning around on his heel as he makes to walk away.
Just before he does, Jin’s voice breaks through the thick atmosphere. “Tat-chan,” he calls out, causing Ueda to halt in his tracks without turning around. “Nice seeing you again.” When Ueda doesn’t answer nor move, Jin lets out a long breath. “I always did fancy myself in love with you every so often while we were still in KAT-TUN.”
Kame scoffs at the side, mutters something like “We all did.” He looks up in surprise when Ueda turns around slowly, eyes a tiny bit softer around the edges.
“And I’ve done the same with you both,” he replies calmly. “Consider yourselves flattered.” He sends Jin a measured look, the hint of a smile on his lips. “But Jin,” he adds, “Starlight has always been so much more beautiful than moonlight, don’t you think?”
--
Kame’s smile is softer now, pleasantly illuminated by the sunlight that streams in through the rehearsal studio windows early each morning. Jin loves to watch him warm up every day, his usually awkward self suddenly so graceful as he glides across the tiled floor, sweatpants sagging around the pale skin of his bare feet.
“I do appreciate you staring,” Kame says one day out of the blue, arms raised in the middle of the dance floor as he throws Jin a bemused, somewhat exasperatedly affectionate smile. “But it’d be nice if you did some actual dancing.”
Averting his eyes, Jin laughs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs his jacket off, facing the mirror to run a comb through his ever-messy morning hair.
A hand closes over his, and he turns to find Kame smiling at him, just that Kame-like smile. “You look fine,” he says calmly, and pries the comb out of Jin’s fingers, tucking it into his own pocket under Jin’s baffled gaze. “And of course you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
The smile on Jin’s face is slow and sweet, eyes sparkling. “You’re the only star in my sky,” he declares, and Kame laughs out loud, all open mouth and scrunched up features and bushy eyebrows, but for the first time in five years, Jin doesn’t laugh along, only stares and smiles.
Because for the first time in five years, Jin thinks it’s beautiful.
--
A month later finds Jin sitting at a café with Junno across the table, who is inspecting the menu with an extremely dedicated air. Just as Jin is about to clear his throat in the attempt to start a conversation, his cell phone interrupts with a loud blast of American music, harsh and banging in the quiet atmosphere of the café.
Sheepish, Jin pulls it out as Junno sends him a forgiving smile. The name on the screen makes him start, dropping the phone as if he’s been burned. Kame has never contacted him more than once a year, and as long as he isn’t dreaming (he can’t quite deduce if it’s a nightmare or a dream come true), they’d just seen each other last month.
Expectantly, Junno looks up. “Is it Koki? He should be here by now.” Junno’s voice is a bit more serious than when Jin last heard it (also a year ago, he presumes - none of them ever see each other more than annually), but still carries a tone of innocence that at the present moment, Jin wants to curse, especially as Junno moves to pick up the phone and peer at the screen. “Oh!” Delight crosses his face when he sees the name, and Jin scowls to himself, albeit half-heartedly.
“Kame!” The phone is against Junno’s ear now, his smile bright and cheerful. “How are you?” He listens intently to something being said on the other line, his smile ever continuous as he nods. “Yep, he’s right here. Sure.” With all the easiness in the world, he places the phone down, still flipped open, and slides it to Jin’s side of the table. “He wants to talk to you.”
Clearing his throat, Jin carefully works his fingers around the cold surface of the device, fingers barely trembling as he presses it to his ear. “Hello.”
“Hey,” comes the casual answer, and Jin has to pinch himself to stay collected (what the hell, maybe it is a dream come true). “You’re with Junno?”
“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin gives the person across the table a brief glance. “And Koki’s coming soon.”
“Koki?” There’s surprise in Kame’s voice. “I didn’t know you guys kept in touch.”
Jin waits a moment to hear if there’s more, but he’s only met with silence. “Yeah,” he bites his lip, trying his best to keep it casual. “Well, I’m sure you keep in touch with him.”
A rustling noise sounds on the other end, and Jin can imagine Kame moving to cross his legs, free hand resting on top of his thigh. “We do,” is his only answer, and the silence resumes, so much that it is starting to annoy Jin (along with the familiar tug in his heart).
Uncomfortably, he leans back in his chair. “Is there anything you wanted? I mean, you know, you don’t tend to call very…often,” he finishes lamely, and curses himself inwardly.
“I know,” Kame laughs shortly, his breath a bit shallow, and Jin has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the hope from stirring inside him. “I was going to ask if you…well, I mean, never mind, seeing as you have an appointment with Junno and Koki.” (Either Jin is hallucinating, or he sounds disappointed. Jin almost wants to believe the former.)
“Perhaps,” he says slowly, an idea forming in his head (his heart, more like, but he’s not going to admit to that). “You could…you know, come too?”
From the other side of the table, Junno exclaims enthusiastically. “Yes, do come, Kame! We’d love to have you come.” He beckons Jin to press speakerphone, propping the phone up against the table surface. “So you’re coming, right?”
There’s a quiet laugh on the other end. “I guess I have no choice in the matter. If it doesn’t bother you guys, then…”
“Of course not,” Junno answers immediately, before Jin can open his mouth to say anything. Eyeing him mysteriously, Junno’s lips curve up into a smile. “I don’t believe Jin would mind either.”
Jin can sense Kame’s hesitance. “Would you mind, Jin?” he pronounces Jin’s given name pointedly, voice clipped around the syllable.
Even though he can’t see the other, Jin gives a small smile. “Of course not, Kame. We’d love to have you come.”
--
Contrary to popular belief, they’ve never called each other much by their given names, much less nicknames. It’s an unspoken rule between them, and though Jin doesn’t really know when it began, he’s sure it’s not bound to end anytime soon, based upon the circumstances. Maybe it was something they knew beforehand, a feeling they both shared that they didn’t want, didn’t need to develop upon, to enlarge before it exploded on them both.
Johnny has never had a rulebook, but he never needed one. There is no formal print that limits them from dating, from entering relationships outside of work. Every tabloid printed is their own matter to take care of, their own problem to solve. Johnny’s only rule has always been, Do what you need to do. Do what you need to do, and the agency takes care of the rest for you.
There is also no written rule that limits them from relationships inside the agency, but that is something none of them would even fathom considering - not even if it’s obvious to the rest of the world that you mean something more to each other. Johnny turns a blind eye to certain sparks in gazes; he lets you deal with your unnecessary feelings yourself.
So maybe, Jin can fool himself by calling Kame by his full surname. Maybe, Jin thinks, Kame wants to fool himself too by sticking to Akanishi, by detaching themselves from each other even by name. And maybe it worked out just as well, that after ten years of knowing each other, they have learned to act like nothing more than acquaintances, perhaps too cold even for band mates.
Sometimes, though, Jin reserves the faintest glimmer of innocent hope from their early years, the wish he carries deep beneath his nonchalant mask when he practices beside Kame, when he steels his heart to the warm presence brushing against him during water break, to the lingering memories of when they could still act like children together (young and spirited and dreamy in love), when he can sense the other doing the same.
Sometimes, Jin wishes it weren’t what he needed to do.
--
“Happy holidays,” Kame greets when he enters through the doorway, a large scarf tied tightly around his neck and draping over his shoulders. It looks good on him, Jin allows himself to think, before again resuming indifference, remembering last minute to return the holiday greeting. He’s never been partial to Christmas.
Koki instantly receives Kame with a tight hug, arms around shoulders and smiles all around. Jin can’t help the old, familiar sting inside his chest as he watches them already starting to laugh with each other (and Kame’s soft, beautiful smile; the one that used to be reserved for only him). “I’ve missed you,” he hears Kame say, and it still hurts more than it’s supposed to.
Finally, Kame turns around, face aglow with cheerful spirit. Jin can see the obvious change in his eyes when they meet gazes, the entrance of sorrow and remorse, and his heart clenches once. Kame shouldn’t still have this affect on him, he thinks - not after the twenty years they went through together as Johnny’s, not after everything they sacrificed for their careers. And even though they’re no longer Johnny’s, even though the world wouldn’t care if they had a relationship - they both know, and they’re both afraid, Jin thinks, to take a step forward and try to mend what they had to break in order to succeed. Kame may be a writer now, and Jin a composer, but in the end, they’re still the same. Pathetically, inevitably, broken.
“Long time no see, Kamenashi,” he is the first to greet, the first because he can, he thinks. He’s not going to let the remains of happily-ever-after-puppy-love inside him control his entire disposition. “I was surprised at your call.”
“I was surprised you answered,” Kame replies, and then shakes his head. “I guess it wasn’t really you, though. Junno answered.”
Jin just raises a shoulder in response, an attempt to shrug off his curiosity as to why Kame would have called him in the first place. He isn’t given much time to ponder the subject, though, before Koki’s cell phone begins to ring, distant-sounding in the depths of his pocket.
“Sorry,” with an apologetic smile (mostly directed at Kame, who just smiles back - Jin winces involuntarily), Koki pulls out his phone. His eyes widen as he listens to the other end, speaking in quiet murmurs, voice seemingly panicked. He hangs up after only a few moments, expression worried and eyebrows furrowed together anxiously. “I forgot to tell you,” he says, “Nakamaru was planning on coming too.” Biting his lip, he clasps his hands together. “But he just got into a car accident. No injuries, but,” pausing, he looks up to survey the three of them. “I need somebody to help me go pick him up. His car’s totaled.”
Expectantly, Jin waits for Kame’s affirmative reply (he’s always the one to step up to the plate in these situations), but to his surprise, the other remains completely silent. Confusion sweeps over him as he glances swiftly over, but Kame shows no sign that he has noticed, nor does he move to volunteer.
Almost instantaneously, Junno clears his throat to pipe up. “I’ll go,” he smiles back when Koki shoots him an oddly accomplished look (as if he’d been expecting this all along, perhaps, but Jin swats away the notion as soon as it enters his head), and stands up abruptly, gathering his jacket. “You guys stay here. We’ll be right back.”
Kame nods curtly, and Jin follows the gesture, still in a bit of a dazed shock at the other man’s indifferent reaction to the situation. As soon as Koki and Junno are out the door, Jin leans forward, smoothing the pad of his thumb over his palm as he tries to think of a clever way to inquire upon Kame’s disposition.
There is no need, though, because Kame speaks up first. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says softly, startling Jin from his thoughts. “I have my reasons.”
“You’re not worried?”
“Are you?” Kame’s eyes pin him down, and Jin can’t help but nod slowly, as if questioning his answer. “But not enough?”
“I’m not,” biting his lip, Jin fumbles for the right wording. “That kind of person. I’d only get in the way, and we’d probably end up in another worse crash than he began with.”
Heaving a sigh, Kame accepts this, curling his legs up in his seat and bending forward to rest his head on his knees. Jin takes this as the cue for change of topic, but just as he is about to open his mouth to try and initiate casualties, Kame beats him to talking.
“Koizumi came to my apartment last night.” His voice is emotionless; face a mask of composure, as if he is discussing the weather. “To forgive me.”
Jin crosses his arms, settles back in his chair. “You didn’t do anything wrong in the first place.”
Kame chooses to ignore this. “She wants to be with me again. Being such a good person, forgiving me, and letting me have a second chance. What more could a guy ask for?” There’s something eerily sarcastic in his tone, the way his body is folded into itself. It makes Jin raise an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Kamenashi.”
Exasperated, Kame lets his head fall back against the hard surface of the chair, closing his eyes. His scarf loosens, falling to his waist and exposing the elegant curve of his jaw line, skin smooth and pale around his neck, collarbones peeking out from the white edge of his shirt. “Kamenashi,” he repeats in a whisper, like he is tasting the word, like it disgusts him. “Kamenashi, Kamenashi, Kamenashi.” In a sudden movement, he raises his head, dark gaze focusing directly on Jin, so intensely that Jin feels his breath catch for a second inside his throat. “Kamenashi,” Kame breathes, and Jin’s surprised to hear a thick choke in his voice, almost as if he is holding back the pressure of tears.
Unsure, Jin leans the tiniest bit closer. “Is there anything…? Kamen - ”
“Don’t!” Eyes blazing, Kame silences Jin, a sort of fury flaming up inside his gaze, but it softens when Jin just stares at him blankly, in utter confusion. “Please don’t,” he repeats, much quieter, much more raw, helpless, even. “It’s always Kamenashi,” he says, dropping his gaze down to his knees. “It’s like you’ve never known me well enough to call me anything else.”
“I don’t know you best anymore.” Jin finds himself echoing what he said a month ago, but his voice isn’t as confidently indifferent anymore. The way Kame is staring at him is making his mind go askew, and he tries to push back the feelings in vain, the onslaught of emotions he is afraid to face after all these years.
Kame is shaking his head. “No,” he replies, with a sad quirk of a smile (but it’s soft, so soft and beautiful that it makes Jin’s hands tremble with remembrance). “No, you’ve always known me best, Jin.”
The sincere, heartbroken unfamiliarity of his own name in Kame’s voice is enough to make Jin’s resolve snap, the protests of his logical thoughts blurring inside his head (there must be something, anything able to prevent him, but the warm, aching breathlessness that seeps through his nerves isn’t an adequate answer). He reaches out and pulls Kame in tight, splaying his fingers across the muscles in Kame’s back, breathing in the sweet scent of his shampoo. “Kazuya,” he murmurs, the ache inside him increasing as his fingers sweep against the fabric of Kame’s jacket.
Kame’s broken laugh seeps through him, and he clings onto it, wrapping his fingers around the other’s and squeezing hard. “Jin,” Kame whispers in his ear, warm breath cascading onto his skin. “I’ve missed you.”
--
The day he meets her is the day the hundred-millionth rumor about Kame and Koizumi is released, a gloomy, cloudy day that mixes in with the fog surrounding the city. He is standing in front of a fruit stand, weighing an apple in his hand when she walks up beside him, moving close against the chilly breeze.
“I know you,” she greets, face friendly, and he turns beneath his disguise to look at her. He recognizes her face from a few stray magazines he was flipping through earlier this week, the gentle curl of long brown hair and dark, wide eyes.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Her smile is brilliant in contrast to the dullness of the weather, and he finds himself smiling back as he lets the apple roll back into place on top of the pile. She laughs, a warm, tinkling sound, and motions towards the street. “Coffee?”
--
He thinks himself in love months later, when he is introducing her to all his friends. What he fails to notice in his happiness is the struck daze she is in as soon as she lays eyes on Yamapi, and the return of the gesture from his best friend - what he fails to miss, the obvious sparks of a love he isn’t meant to have, a love that isn’t destined to be his.
The day before he decides to confess his feelings for her, she finds him instead, her eyes aglow with happiness. “Jin,” she confides, smile always so bright, so beautiful beneath the dim streetlight of nighttime, her jeans resting on the edges of her flats as she fingers the peeling paint of the park bench they are sitting on. “I think I’ve found my true love.”
He turns to her with shining hope, only to find that her gaze is directed elsewhere, soft and far off into the distance, expression lighted in adoration. When he peers up in the direction her eyes are hinted towards, he finds himself looking up at a single, winking star that has broken through the fog of Tokyo (he is reminded of somebody else, and suddenly, he understands).
“Yamapi,” she whispers, the syllables rolling down her tongue in a wisp of gentleness, a curved, rounded breath like she wants to caress the name inside her forever, like a person in love. “Yamashita Tomohisa.”
Jin turns away and closes his eyes, and wills himself against the heartbreak of what isn’t meant to be his.
--
Yamapi’s wedding is on a Saturday, accompanied by light snow and colorful decorations to match the spirit of the holidays. Jin is dressed in his best suit and pants, hair brushed almost neatly in comparison to his usual demeanor.
He arrives early in order to help Yamapi prepare (he knows he has to see her, anyway, but putting it off as long as possible is his ultimate goal). What he doesn’t expect is to find all of the former members of KAT-TUN and NEWS sitting around in chairs in front of the altar, with only Kame and Ryo missing.
In anticipation, he pushes open the door of the dressing room with a cautious hand, and he steps back a little when he is greeted with the sight of Kame, Ryo and Shirota gathered around Yamapi, who is gazing into a body-length mirror a bit anxiously.
“Looks good,” Jin remarks from the doorway, and all four heads turn to look at him. With a suave smile, Jin nods his head, eyes lingering on Kame a moment longer than the rest before returning to Yamapi. “In fact, if I were a girl, I could find myself falling in love with you.”
Yamapi snorts, moving forward to clasp Jin in a giant hug. “Bakanishi,” he mutters fondly, pulling back to gaze at him. “Thanks for coming.”
Jin shrugs, smiling. “Figured the free food would be worth it.”
Yamapi just rolls his eyes, but Jin can see the smile all the same.
--
Kame’s grown closer to Koki as he and Jin have pulled away, and Jin can’t help but feel envious. In fact, he finds himself more jealous of Koki than even Koizumi, though presumably the latter is the one Kame is in love with.
He watches Koki often, his brash, softhearted ways and friendly manners. He thinks of the things Koki has that he will never be able to - having Kame as a best friend, namely, being able to spend nights out at ramen booths and karaoke, being able to crack light jokes and confide worries in.
And then there’s Ueda. Jin tells Ueda more than he should, and what he doesn’t tell, he’s sure Ueda knows anyway, because Ueda’s like that. Even with the knowledge that Ueda is perhaps just as close with Kame as with him, Jin finds himself relying on Ueda to listen to his frustrations and misgivings without uttering a single word about it to anyone else.
At certain times, he wonders what kind of things Kame tells Ueda. He watches Ueda, too - not the way he watches Koki, but with a different perspective. He searches Ueda’s face for hints about Kame, like he is trying to see through a thick glass that is hiding Kame from view. He knows that Ueda knows, that the thing stuck between the both of them, between the full potential of their feelings (or, Jin’s feelings) is Kame, and only Kame.
Because after all this time, Jin tells himself he no longer knows Kame best - not as well as Ueda does, not as well as Koki does.
But what he does know, for certain, is that he will always love Kame best, whether he wants to or not.
--
Ueda is scooping punch into a cup at the food table amidst the increasing amount of guests that is strolling in, and Jin has to weave through numerous greetings and old, familiar faces before he finally makes it to the table. Even though Ueda makes no sign of recognition at his presence, Jin knows he’s been noticed.
“So I thought about what you said last month.” He lets out a silent breath when Ueda glances up in curiosity at him, cup now full. He watches as Ueda takes a quiet sip, nods for him to continue. “And I think you’re right.”
With a laugh, Ueda drums the fingers of his free hand on the tabletop, turns around to lean his back carefully on the edge. “About which part?”
“All of it,” Jin replies. “The whole thing. Everything. My entire life, you’ve always been right.”
Smiling bemusedly, Ueda puts down his punch. “Should I be flattered?” He tilts his head.
Clapping his back, Jin unexpectedly brings him in for a short, tight hug. “Be flattered,” he whispers fondly, and flicks Ueda’s nose with a smile before drawing away. “Thank you, Tat-chan. For staying with me.”
“Permission to join in whatever pleasant conversation is happening?” A familiar female voice jolts Jin a step back, head reeling as his line of view encompasses her, still dressed in a casual skirt and T-shirt. “It’s too early to change. I’m still enjoying the company before I have to get into that awful, stiff dress.” She beams at Jin, eyes openly honest.
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Jin nods, shifting on his feet. He senses Ueda moving away behind him, and wills him a silent thank you.
“It’s been a while,” her voice is gentle, apologetic. “How have you been?”
Swallowing quietly, he forces a pleasant smile. “Good,” he says simply, raising his gaze to hers - and he catches sight of a familiar figure behind her, hands tucked into his pockets and conversing easily with Koki. “Good,” Jin repeats, tone rounder, fonder.
“That’s good,” she smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he feels something release inside of him, the usual clenching washed away as he returns the smile. “Thanks for coming, Jin.”
Kame is moving hesitantly in their direction, Jin notices out of his peripheral vision, and he nods with a continuous smile. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he answers, and for the first time since he thought himself in love with her, he realizes that he is being honest. “Really,” he adds, and sees the change in her eyes; she realizes it too.
“I’m glad,” she replies with the same amount of sincerity, and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He catches a faint whiff of her perfume as she steps away, and he smiles in recognition at the scent, a perfume he’d bought for her birthday long ago. “I should go get dressed now,” she informs him, and nods good-bye, leaving him with a smile as she disappears into the crowd.
Kame is leaning against the end of the table, hair falling in between his eyes as he looks at his watch. Jin smiles at the sight, stepping forward.
“Two more hours to waste,” Kame is the first to speak, his eyes dancing as he turns to Jin. “According to Koki.”
“Two hours, huh?” Swiftly, Jin moves to stand closer, fingertips closing around Kame’s wrist with a tug. Looking up at him, Kame’s lips curve upwards slightly, the only affirmation Jin needs before surging forward, sidestepping around the table and pulling them into the parking lot. Without protest, Kame slips into the seat behind Jin, quietly accepting the helmet offered and circling Jin’s waist with slender arms.
As they zoom in a swerve out of the parking lot, Jin feels a head weigh down on the back of his shoulder blade. “Where are we going?” Kame’s voice is soft in his ear, and he smiles involuntarily.
“You’ll see.”
The rest of the ride is silent, save for a few honks and passing city life. When they arrive at the small entrance of a park, illuminated by the dim light of a street lamp, Jin stops the engine, unbuckling his helmet and pulling it over his head.
Silently, Kame does the same, his eyes taking in the surroundings as Jin watches him closely, leading the way in through the swinging gate and down the path. There are only few stray visitors to the park this late at night, and Jin ignores them, walking forward determinedly to the park bench he is now so familiar with.
“Sit down,” he orders, and Kame complies, crossing his legs habitually. Jin eases onto the bench beside him, and points upwards, through the overhead branches at the blurry night sky.
There’s a single, lonely star winking back at them, shining in its full brilliance, just like the night Jin was here with her, so many years ago. “Oh,” is all Kame says, before he turns to look at Jin, face elegantly shadowed by the night.
Reaching a finger beneath his chin, Jin tilts his face upwards. “What’s our status, Kazuya?” he whispers.
Kame stares at him for a long moment, eyes endless depths of emotion. “Soul mates,” he finally whispers back, voice barely above a breath, and he smiles (that rare, soft smile Jin remembers back from early mornings during Junior days, and it’s all for him, only for him).
“What about Koizumi?”
“Who are you talking about?”
Jin chuckles, allowing Kame a small smile before descending lips onto his, hands moving to clasp around his waist. Kame leans forward into the contact until the small of Jin’s back is pressed into the arm of the bench, breathing heavy as they pull apart. A grin flits across Kame’s features, and Jin gazes up at him with an erratic heartbeat, trembling fingers brushing back a strand of hair that has fallen into his eyes.
“You’re the only star in my sky,” Jin breathes, and Kame laughs, eyes lighted with deep affection.
“I know,” he replies, slides his finger down the bridge of Jin’s nose and to trace his lips before leaning in to press another kiss at the corner. Taking the advantage, Jin locks arms around him, pouring into the kiss the longing that has been pent up inside of him for so long.
“We have to get back to the wedding,” Kame whispers, breaking away, and Jin releases him reluctantly, watching amusedly as he attempts to straighten the folds in his clothing.
“You look fine,” he says, an echo of Kame in the rehearsal room all those years ago. And the smile on Kame’s face is slow and sweet, soft in the illumination of moonlight.
Jin thinks it’s beautiful.
--
KAT-TUN retires on Jin, Kame and Nakamaru’s twentieth anniversary of being in the agency, on the exact date of their audition. The reaction is enormous, but they all believe it’s the right decision - finally, something they were able to agree on together. It’s kind of bittersweet, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t dwell on it much.
The rest of the band seems surprised at his resolve to stay in Japan, all except for Kame and Ueda (Jin is pretty sure Ueda knows why). He talks to Kame more than he did five years ago, but there’s still a certain distance set between them, a kind of habitual boundary that they dare not cross, even though the burden of being a Johnny’s is already disappearing.
But even with the distance setting them apart, Jin is content to wait, because he knows Kame knows why he’s stayed in Japan. Perhaps Kame himself doesn’t even realize it yet, but Jin is certain he knows, involuntarily. He knows because it just is, because it’s Kame (and Kame always will know Jin best).
--
The wedding lasts for five more hours, and by the time Jin has arrived home, his eyelids are drooping in want of sleep. His hike down the hallway to his apartment seems endless, and his exhaustion is so great that he fails to notice the figure sitting against the wall until he barely manages to escape tripping over the extended foot in the middle of the hallway.
“Hey - ” all anger vanishes when Jin looks to see Kame straightening himself up into a standing position, lips quirked. “You,” Jin says, but his voice isn’t at all accusing, even if he’d tried to make it sound like it.
“Me,” Kame answers, and stretches his arms upward as he yawns complacently. “I was thinking you might miss me too much tonight.”
Jin stares at him, eyes darkening as he smiles. “Is that so,” he tilts his head innocently. “And why would you think that?”
“Oh,” feigning disappointment, Kame steps back a little. “Well, if I’m not, then I guess I’ll just be leaving, then. Sorry for disturbing.” He moves as if to walk away, but Jin grabs a hold of his wrist, pulling him in through the front door and locking it before pinning him against it, lips hungry and insistent on his. Smiling against Jin’s mouth, Kame tugs on his collar, and Jin takes the cue to lead him towards the bedroom door, lips never ceasing contact.
With an urgent hand, Jin wrenches the door open, pulling Kame inside before letting it slam closed behind them.
--
The sunlight that filters through his eyelids wakes him up, opening his eyes to see patches of light spotted across the folds of the bedcovers. Rolling over, Jin props up his head in the curve of his palm, his elbow digging into his pillow as he gazes at Kame’s sleeping figure, eyelashes dark against pale skin and defined cheekbones.
“I do appreciate you staring.”
With a start, Jin blinks, watching as Kame’s eyes open, twinkling at him fondly. Clearing his throat, Jin glances downwards. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Laughing, Kame pulls him over, pressing a brief kiss on his mouth before rolling around to sit up, hair mussed and contours soft in the morning sunlight. “Of course you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he replies, carefree, and swings his legs over the bed before standing to stretch and yawn in a feline-like manner. He throws Jin a brilliant smile over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Bakanishi.”
As the bathroom door closes behind him, Jin can’t help but grin to himself (there’s warmth inside his heart, and finally, for once in his life, it doesn’t ache at all).
Because after all, he always loves Kame best.
Title: Soul Mates
Author: fingeredheart
Pairing/Group: Jin/Kame, Jin/Yamapi (friendship), Kame/Koki (friendship), Yamapi/OC, hints of Jin/Ueda, Kame/Ueda, Kame/Koizumi, Jin/OC. Groups include KAT-TUN & NEWS.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst (but not overly excessive, at least I hope not), includes mentions of het, future!fic.
Notes: For fionnakreuz @ je_holiday 2009. Huge thanks to my beta quinnsan ♥ Flashbacks are in italics. Originally posted here.
Summary: “You’re the only star in my sky.” Twenty years in KAT-TUN and five years after retirement from Johnny’s, Kame and Jin are finally starting to mend what they’ve broken.
The city lights are bright and blinding, the faint whiff of smoke just within his reach. The doorway to the bar is dim against the background of city noise, distant music drowned out by the honks and shouts of nighttime.
As he steps inside, the music increases to a steady beat, rhythm surging through the dance floor as he approaches the counter.
“Something strong,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth beneath the rough sear of the music, and the bartender nods, giving the counter one last swipe before heading away in search of his drink. With a heavy sigh, he weighs himself down onto a stool, nursing his throbbing head with tired fingers.
“Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice causes him to glance sideways through the cracks of his fingers, lips drawn tightly as he attempts to suppress his surprise. The other man sends him a look just as the bartender slides a drink down the counter, a misty, suspicious-looking liquid sloshing against the edges. Furrowing his eyebrows, Jin reaches for the glass, allowing himself a moment’s worth of inspection before chancing a sip, eyes darkly pointed at Yamapi from over the rim.
“Kamenashi called me.”
Yamapi returns his gaze unwaveringly, smile tucked into his cheeks like a hidden, unwelcome promise. “Good?” He chooses to ignore the previously given comment.
Without answering directly, Jin swivels his stool towards the counter, barely wincing at the loud, rusty scrape of metal against metal as he does so. “What is this, alcohol with brown food coloring?” His voice carries no hint of resentment as he watches the bartender’s shrug for an answer, nor does he show any sign of discomfort of the fact that he is aware of Yamapi, who is staring at him intensely.
Raising an eyebrow and nodding, Jin raises the glass for another sip before setting it down in front of him and cupping both hands around it. His posture relaxes a little, hair falling in a perfect curve along the side of his face as he bores his gaze deep into the mist of his drink.
“You should just yell at them if it’s bad,” Yamapi finally speaks up, raising his own drink and swinging his leg over the stool to face Jin. “You’re always too nice half the time.”
Jin gives a short laugh, glancing down into his lap before raising his gaze to meet Yamapi’s, features casting elegant half-shadows from the spinning lights of the dance floor. “I try,” he replies almost nonchalantly, and tips the rest of the glass down his throat, the liquid burning inside his chest as he swallows it.
“No, you are,” with an edge in his voice, Yamapi emphasizes the word with something resembling remorse. “Don’t you deny it.” His eyes flicker with an unspoken dare, filled to the brim with too much knowing, and Jin shrugs languidly, too lazy to put up a fight.
“How is she?”
Inhaling sharply, Yamapi twirls his glass between his forefingers, refusing to meet the other’s gaze. “We’re getting married next month.”
Mouth forming a silent O, Jin ponders this for a moment. Finally, he hunches forward, shifting back on the stool to let his legs dangle a few millimeters above the ground. “Congratulations,” he comments, reaching over to give Yamapi a clap on the back.
With a measured look, Yamapi gauges his friend’s response tentatively. “We’d like it if you came,” he says finally, voice in all solemnity. To his surprise, Jin immediately returns it with a large smile, spinning around to lean back on the counter.
“Of course I’m going. Why wouldn’t I?”
After a second’s pause, Yamapi just shakes his head, swallowing back the words that linger on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah,” he replies softly, moving his hand to rest on Jin’s shoulder as a responsive gesture. “Yeah.”
(Thank you, he means to say, I owe you forever, but he knows words are no use - never enough for what Jin’s done, what Jin’s given up for him.)
Through the midst of his reminiscence, Yamapi turns at Jin’s suddenly slightly uncomfortable movements only to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, surrounded by several others. As they draw closer to the light, he can just barely make out the face contours, the darkened lines of Kame and Ueda’s profiles, along with a few of the guys he and Jin used to regularly club with, back when they were still Johnny’s and had to find the right, good guys to help them keep low profiles outside of their careers.
Ryo is also hanging around in the back, hands tucked into his pockets and the rim of his baseball cap overshadowing his eyes. “Hey, stranger,” Yamapi greets when he nears, letting the remainder of the crowd fall in a circle between him and Jin.
“Long time no see,” comes the answer, and Yamapi gives a half-smile. They both flick their glances over a couple vaguely familiar, anonymous heads to see how Jin’s side is faring.
Jin’s having a difficult time trying to judge his own internal reactions at seeing Kame again, especially after all these years. After a long silence of him working and testing silent syllables around with his tongue, he ends up settling with just, “Hey.”
Kame nods, seemingly neither pleased nor discontent. “Hey,” he returns altogether too easily, and pulls up a stool, gesturing as if into the far distance. “I brought some of your troops, too.”
Jin can’t help but snort, pushing back his empty glass towards the far end of the counter. “You shouldn’t have. What if you got caught? That would totally destroy your image.”
This time, it’s Kame’s turn to snort. “Too old for images,” he crosses his legs, jeans tight and worn along the edges. “How have you been?”
With a faked gasp, Jin blinks exaggeratedly, falling back into a nearby friend (he thinks it’s Kusano, maybe, but he can’t really tell from his standpoint)’s arms before instantly regaining his posture, amidst a couple chuckles as well as an amused raised eyebrow from Kame. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you’d care enough to ask, Kamenashi.”
Equally monotonous and perhaps sarcastic in tone, Kame laughs, “You’re just blind, Akanishi. I’ve always cared so, so much.”
Yamapi takes this advantage to cut into their conversation, bursting with curious knowledge. “Didn’t you get engaged, Kame? I heard a few months back.”
Barely flinching, Kame nods curtly. “I did.” There’s a short silence from the surrounding people, music pounding loud in their ears, but when he shows no sign of continuing, conversations begin to start up again. Narrowing his eyes, Jin peers through the loud noise and messy bangs at Kame, whose gaze is directed at his hands lying in his own lap.
Opening his mouth, Jin is just about to work up the courage to call the other’s name when Kame’s head snaps up on his own, eyes looking particularly unreadable and almost, almost vulnerable. (Something about it strikes a chord in Jin, something like the clueless Kame from all those years ago, memories stuck between the dripping sweat and dusty costumes and impossible dance steps of the Junior studios.)
--
The boy is shorter than he, hair sticking up in tufts and eyebrows unbearably bushy. His face is a complete representation of vulnerability, of reluctance - it doesn’t take much for Jin to figure out that he doesn’t want to be here, judging by the slight drag of his steps and obvious discontent in his eyes.
Against his better will, Jin steps up to the plate, offering an overly cheerful greeting as he tries to penetrate into the boy’s cynical gaze. “I’m Akanishi Jin!” He chirrups, hair flopping over his forehead and smile bright, a cover thrown over his own anxiety. “What’s your name?”
The boy blinks, looking almost as if Jin has just asked him to ponder the meaning of his existence on Earth. Just as Jin is about to give up and back away as slowly and inconspicuously as possible (he is positive that is the most foolproof plan out of awkward situations such as this one), the boy’s lips quirk upwards into a half-hopeful smile, eyes flickering. “Kamenashi Kazuya,” he answers in what Jin later comes to know as the Kame-like tone, completely unreadable but not unfriendly (as for the current first meeting, Jin is at an absolute loss as to how he pulls it off).
Recovering quickly from his stupor, Jin grins. “It’s nice to meet you, Kamenashi Kazuya-kun.”
Somehow, something about the way he says it makes the other boy smile, teeth a flash of white, a brief spark ignited in his eyes. And somehow, something about that smile makes words, usually so easy, become stuck in Jin’s throat, makes desire, never before known, tangle inside his heart.
--
Slowly, Jin looks downwards at Kame’s hands resting in his lap, fingers entwined together tightly, blurred beneath the shady lighting of the bar. There is no hint of existence of a ring on any finger, much less where it’s supposed to be, and it begins to dawn upon Jin. He brings his gaze back upwards to rest on Kame’s face, the outline of regret in the depth of dark brown eyes.
There’s a sort of expectance in Kame’s voice when he speaks. “We broke up,” he says in response to the question that forms in Jin’s eyes. “A month ago.”
It takes only a moment for Jin to absorb the information, stare unwavering. Finally, with a practiced, composed air, he tilts his head and gives Kame his best clueless look. “Who are you talking about?”
Kame laughs out loud, moving to clasp his hands around the stem of the glass passed towards him. He glances sideways to gauge the sincerity of Jin’s attempts, downing the glass fully before speaking again. “Thanks.”
“If she’s stupid enough to do that, then she won’t be worth remembering anymore,” Jin shrugs his shoulders a bit tightly.
“I wish I could take it that easily.” With a sigh, Kame lowers his head onto his hands, palms pressed against the cool surface of the countertop. “I really thought she was the one.”
“Let me guess,” bravely, Jin closes the distance between them, lowering his own head to meet Kame eye-level. “She thought you were in love with someone else.”
Closing his eyes, Kame breathes in the faint scent of Jin’s cologne and sweat, how he can sense the other’s presence even behind closed eyelids and total darkness. “No,” he whispers, blowing out his breath onto the countertop. “She thought I was in love with you.”
Jin’s presence draws away as Kame opens his eyes, observing the familiar curious glint in Jin’s eyes. “We’re still talking about Koizumi here, right? Am I missing the big picture?”
Wearily, Kame nods, raising himself up to nurse his temple with two fingers. “There is no big picture anymore. And yes, we are talking about Koizumi. Who the hell else?”
Shrugging for the umpteenth time tonight, Jin orders another glass before turning back to Kame. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you best anymore,” he says in a conversational manner, but the statement lingers awkwardly around their heads for longer than it’s meant to. Kame breaks the silence with another barely audible sigh.
“But,” Jin continues after the hesitation, “I thought you already clarified our…status.”
He’s surprised to hear a bitter laugh from Kame’s mouth, and twists around in his seat to blink at the younger man. Kame glances at him, lips turning downwards in a split second’s grimace. “What is our status, Akanishi?”
“Friends,” is the automatic reply, but Kame can tell the other regrets writing it off so easily a second later. To compensate, Jin smoothes an unsteady hand across the counter, shakes his head to himself. “Well, no. More and less than that.” He closes one eye and squints, as if the answer is engraved somewhere on the countertop, but Kame knows he’s just trying to avoid having to meet his gaze.
“Not lovers,” Kame offers carefully.
“Better not.” Flicking two fingers against the edge of the counter, Jin finally looks back to him, eyes confident. “Soul mates,” he states solemnly, raising a hand as if to make some kind of elaborate gesture to emphasize his point. “You’re the only star in my sky.”
“So what am I, a blade of grass you step on?” They both turn to see Ueda as he sits down on a spare stool nearby, hair falling in neat strands to reach his shoulders. “I’d have thought after so many years, I’d made some kind of progress.”
A smile plays across Kame’s face, forehead creasing in delicate amusement. “You’re caught, Akanishi.”
Sticking his tongue out in reply, Jin looks directly at Ueda. “You are,” he hesitates for exaggerated suspense, “a satellite.” Unconfident in his answer, Jin bites his lip, pauses for another bit. “Or you could be the moon.”
Ueda laughs lightly. “Wow, don’t I feel special. I get to disappear every month.”
Jin shakes his head vehemently. “You have to see it my way. You’re inconstant in my life.”
Raising an eyebrow, Ueda inclines his head. “And I suppose Kamenashi is so much more constant?”
This somewhat frustrates Jin, who narrows his eyes in dissent. “Are you trying to get at something?”
“Perhaps,” Ueda says with only a suggesting tone, “What he really is to you.”
There’s a clearing of throat from Kame, face blank of emotion when he flashes a masked smile. “I really do appreciate you guys talking about me in front of my face.”
Contrary to his expectations, Ueda ignores him, pressing onwards with the topic he’s introduced, and obviously wanted to for quite some time. “Akanishi,” he says, making Jin’s head turn uncertainly. “Do you understand what I’m getting at?”
Kame discomfort is clear in his shifting on the stool, elbow propping up to lean on the counter. “Ueda,” he interrupts carefully, “maybe - ”
“Shut up,” Ueda’s tone is almost harsh, quiet, as he turns to Kame. “Just shut up, Kame. Please. You’ve interrupted me for twenty-five years, you and him both. You guys - you guys just need to stop being idiots. You both are, but just try and not be for once, fucking once, with all your soul mate crap,” he waves a hand in Jin’s direction, who is staring at him in shock, “And your…sob story about some old lady you’ve only kept trying to convince yourself you’ve loved for the past fifteen years of your life. You still wonder why she thinks you’re in love with someone else? Why she thinks you’re in love with him?” He jabs a finger into Jin’s chest, muted fury swirling inside his gaze as he eyes them both. “You two sit and think about it. I’m not going to be your counselor, good grief.” He hops off his stool, spinning around on his heel as he makes to walk away.
Just before he does, Jin’s voice breaks through the thick atmosphere. “Tat-chan,” he calls out, causing Ueda to halt in his tracks without turning around. “Nice seeing you again.” When Ueda doesn’t answer nor move, Jin lets out a long breath. “I always did fancy myself in love with you every so often while we were still in KAT-TUN.”
Kame scoffs at the side, mutters something like “We all did.” He looks up in surprise when Ueda turns around slowly, eyes a tiny bit softer around the edges.
“And I’ve done the same with you both,” he replies calmly. “Consider yourselves flattered.” He sends Jin a measured look, the hint of a smile on his lips. “But Jin,” he adds, “Starlight has always been so much more beautiful than moonlight, don’t you think?”
--
Kame’s smile is softer now, pleasantly illuminated by the sunlight that streams in through the rehearsal studio windows early each morning. Jin loves to watch him warm up every day, his usually awkward self suddenly so graceful as he glides across the tiled floor, sweatpants sagging around the pale skin of his bare feet.
“I do appreciate you staring,” Kame says one day out of the blue, arms raised in the middle of the dance floor as he throws Jin a bemused, somewhat exasperatedly affectionate smile. “But it’d be nice if you did some actual dancing.”
Averting his eyes, Jin laughs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs his jacket off, facing the mirror to run a comb through his ever-messy morning hair.
A hand closes over his, and he turns to find Kame smiling at him, just that Kame-like smile. “You look fine,” he says calmly, and pries the comb out of Jin’s fingers, tucking it into his own pocket under Jin’s baffled gaze. “And of course you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
The smile on Jin’s face is slow and sweet, eyes sparkling. “You’re the only star in my sky,” he declares, and Kame laughs out loud, all open mouth and scrunched up features and bushy eyebrows, but for the first time in five years, Jin doesn’t laugh along, only stares and smiles.
Because for the first time in five years, Jin thinks it’s beautiful.
--
A month later finds Jin sitting at a café with Junno across the table, who is inspecting the menu with an extremely dedicated air. Just as Jin is about to clear his throat in the attempt to start a conversation, his cell phone interrupts with a loud blast of American music, harsh and banging in the quiet atmosphere of the café.
Sheepish, Jin pulls it out as Junno sends him a forgiving smile. The name on the screen makes him start, dropping the phone as if he’s been burned. Kame has never contacted him more than once a year, and as long as he isn’t dreaming (he can’t quite deduce if it’s a nightmare or a dream come true), they’d just seen each other last month.
Expectantly, Junno looks up. “Is it Koki? He should be here by now.” Junno’s voice is a bit more serious than when Jin last heard it (also a year ago, he presumes - none of them ever see each other more than annually), but still carries a tone of innocence that at the present moment, Jin wants to curse, especially as Junno moves to pick up the phone and peer at the screen. “Oh!” Delight crosses his face when he sees the name, and Jin scowls to himself, albeit half-heartedly.
“Kame!” The phone is against Junno’s ear now, his smile bright and cheerful. “How are you?” He listens intently to something being said on the other line, his smile ever continuous as he nods. “Yep, he’s right here. Sure.” With all the easiness in the world, he places the phone down, still flipped open, and slides it to Jin’s side of the table. “He wants to talk to you.”
Clearing his throat, Jin carefully works his fingers around the cold surface of the device, fingers barely trembling as he presses it to his ear. “Hello.”
“Hey,” comes the casual answer, and Jin has to pinch himself to stay collected (what the hell, maybe it is a dream come true). “You’re with Junno?”
“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin gives the person across the table a brief glance. “And Koki’s coming soon.”
“Koki?” There’s surprise in Kame’s voice. “I didn’t know you guys kept in touch.”
Jin waits a moment to hear if there’s more, but he’s only met with silence. “Yeah,” he bites his lip, trying his best to keep it casual. “Well, I’m sure you keep in touch with him.”
A rustling noise sounds on the other end, and Jin can imagine Kame moving to cross his legs, free hand resting on top of his thigh. “We do,” is his only answer, and the silence resumes, so much that it is starting to annoy Jin (along with the familiar tug in his heart).
Uncomfortably, he leans back in his chair. “Is there anything you wanted? I mean, you know, you don’t tend to call very…often,” he finishes lamely, and curses himself inwardly.
“I know,” Kame laughs shortly, his breath a bit shallow, and Jin has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the hope from stirring inside him. “I was going to ask if you…well, I mean, never mind, seeing as you have an appointment with Junno and Koki.” (Either Jin is hallucinating, or he sounds disappointed. Jin almost wants to believe the former.)
“Perhaps,” he says slowly, an idea forming in his head (his heart, more like, but he’s not going to admit to that). “You could…you know, come too?”
From the other side of the table, Junno exclaims enthusiastically. “Yes, do come, Kame! We’d love to have you come.” He beckons Jin to press speakerphone, propping the phone up against the table surface. “So you’re coming, right?”
There’s a quiet laugh on the other end. “I guess I have no choice in the matter. If it doesn’t bother you guys, then…”
“Of course not,” Junno answers immediately, before Jin can open his mouth to say anything. Eyeing him mysteriously, Junno’s lips curve up into a smile. “I don’t believe Jin would mind either.”
Jin can sense Kame’s hesitance. “Would you mind, Jin?” he pronounces Jin’s given name pointedly, voice clipped around the syllable.
Even though he can’t see the other, Jin gives a small smile. “Of course not, Kame. We’d love to have you come.”
--
Contrary to popular belief, they’ve never called each other much by their given names, much less nicknames. It’s an unspoken rule between them, and though Jin doesn’t really know when it began, he’s sure it’s not bound to end anytime soon, based upon the circumstances. Maybe it was something they knew beforehand, a feeling they both shared that they didn’t want, didn’t need to develop upon, to enlarge before it exploded on them both.
Johnny has never had a rulebook, but he never needed one. There is no formal print that limits them from dating, from entering relationships outside of work. Every tabloid printed is their own matter to take care of, their own problem to solve. Johnny’s only rule has always been, Do what you need to do. Do what you need to do, and the agency takes care of the rest for you.
There is also no written rule that limits them from relationships inside the agency, but that is something none of them would even fathom considering - not even if it’s obvious to the rest of the world that you mean something more to each other. Johnny turns a blind eye to certain sparks in gazes; he lets you deal with your unnecessary feelings yourself.
So maybe, Jin can fool himself by calling Kame by his full surname. Maybe, Jin thinks, Kame wants to fool himself too by sticking to Akanishi, by detaching themselves from each other even by name. And maybe it worked out just as well, that after ten years of knowing each other, they have learned to act like nothing more than acquaintances, perhaps too cold even for band mates.
Sometimes, though, Jin reserves the faintest glimmer of innocent hope from their early years, the wish he carries deep beneath his nonchalant mask when he practices beside Kame, when he steels his heart to the warm presence brushing against him during water break, to the lingering memories of when they could still act like children together (young and spirited and dreamy in love), when he can sense the other doing the same.
Sometimes, Jin wishes it weren’t what he needed to do.
--
“Happy holidays,” Kame greets when he enters through the doorway, a large scarf tied tightly around his neck and draping over his shoulders. It looks good on him, Jin allows himself to think, before again resuming indifference, remembering last minute to return the holiday greeting. He’s never been partial to Christmas.
Koki instantly receives Kame with a tight hug, arms around shoulders and smiles all around. Jin can’t help the old, familiar sting inside his chest as he watches them already starting to laugh with each other (and Kame’s soft, beautiful smile; the one that used to be reserved for only him). “I’ve missed you,” he hears Kame say, and it still hurts more than it’s supposed to.
Finally, Kame turns around, face aglow with cheerful spirit. Jin can see the obvious change in his eyes when they meet gazes, the entrance of sorrow and remorse, and his heart clenches once. Kame shouldn’t still have this affect on him, he thinks - not after the twenty years they went through together as Johnny’s, not after everything they sacrificed for their careers. And even though they’re no longer Johnny’s, even though the world wouldn’t care if they had a relationship - they both know, and they’re both afraid, Jin thinks, to take a step forward and try to mend what they had to break in order to succeed. Kame may be a writer now, and Jin a composer, but in the end, they’re still the same. Pathetically, inevitably, broken.
“Long time no see, Kamenashi,” he is the first to greet, the first because he can, he thinks. He’s not going to let the remains of happily-ever-after-puppy-love inside him control his entire disposition. “I was surprised at your call.”
“I was surprised you answered,” Kame replies, and then shakes his head. “I guess it wasn’t really you, though. Junno answered.”
Jin just raises a shoulder in response, an attempt to shrug off his curiosity as to why Kame would have called him in the first place. He isn’t given much time to ponder the subject, though, before Koki’s cell phone begins to ring, distant-sounding in the depths of his pocket.
“Sorry,” with an apologetic smile (mostly directed at Kame, who just smiles back - Jin winces involuntarily), Koki pulls out his phone. His eyes widen as he listens to the other end, speaking in quiet murmurs, voice seemingly panicked. He hangs up after only a few moments, expression worried and eyebrows furrowed together anxiously. “I forgot to tell you,” he says, “Nakamaru was planning on coming too.” Biting his lip, he clasps his hands together. “But he just got into a car accident. No injuries, but,” pausing, he looks up to survey the three of them. “I need somebody to help me go pick him up. His car’s totaled.”
Expectantly, Jin waits for Kame’s affirmative reply (he’s always the one to step up to the plate in these situations), but to his surprise, the other remains completely silent. Confusion sweeps over him as he glances swiftly over, but Kame shows no sign that he has noticed, nor does he move to volunteer.
Almost instantaneously, Junno clears his throat to pipe up. “I’ll go,” he smiles back when Koki shoots him an oddly accomplished look (as if he’d been expecting this all along, perhaps, but Jin swats away the notion as soon as it enters his head), and stands up abruptly, gathering his jacket. “You guys stay here. We’ll be right back.”
Kame nods curtly, and Jin follows the gesture, still in a bit of a dazed shock at the other man’s indifferent reaction to the situation. As soon as Koki and Junno are out the door, Jin leans forward, smoothing the pad of his thumb over his palm as he tries to think of a clever way to inquire upon Kame’s disposition.
There is no need, though, because Kame speaks up first. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says softly, startling Jin from his thoughts. “I have my reasons.”
“You’re not worried?”
“Are you?” Kame’s eyes pin him down, and Jin can’t help but nod slowly, as if questioning his answer. “But not enough?”
“I’m not,” biting his lip, Jin fumbles for the right wording. “That kind of person. I’d only get in the way, and we’d probably end up in another worse crash than he began with.”
Heaving a sigh, Kame accepts this, curling his legs up in his seat and bending forward to rest his head on his knees. Jin takes this as the cue for change of topic, but just as he is about to open his mouth to try and initiate casualties, Kame beats him to talking.
“Koizumi came to my apartment last night.” His voice is emotionless; face a mask of composure, as if he is discussing the weather. “To forgive me.”
Jin crosses his arms, settles back in his chair. “You didn’t do anything wrong in the first place.”
Kame chooses to ignore this. “She wants to be with me again. Being such a good person, forgiving me, and letting me have a second chance. What more could a guy ask for?” There’s something eerily sarcastic in his tone, the way his body is folded into itself. It makes Jin raise an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Kamenashi.”
Exasperated, Kame lets his head fall back against the hard surface of the chair, closing his eyes. His scarf loosens, falling to his waist and exposing the elegant curve of his jaw line, skin smooth and pale around his neck, collarbones peeking out from the white edge of his shirt. “Kamenashi,” he repeats in a whisper, like he is tasting the word, like it disgusts him. “Kamenashi, Kamenashi, Kamenashi.” In a sudden movement, he raises his head, dark gaze focusing directly on Jin, so intensely that Jin feels his breath catch for a second inside his throat. “Kamenashi,” Kame breathes, and Jin’s surprised to hear a thick choke in his voice, almost as if he is holding back the pressure of tears.
Unsure, Jin leans the tiniest bit closer. “Is there anything…? Kamen - ”
“Don’t!” Eyes blazing, Kame silences Jin, a sort of fury flaming up inside his gaze, but it softens when Jin just stares at him blankly, in utter confusion. “Please don’t,” he repeats, much quieter, much more raw, helpless, even. “It’s always Kamenashi,” he says, dropping his gaze down to his knees. “It’s like you’ve never known me well enough to call me anything else.”
“I don’t know you best anymore.” Jin finds himself echoing what he said a month ago, but his voice isn’t as confidently indifferent anymore. The way Kame is staring at him is making his mind go askew, and he tries to push back the feelings in vain, the onslaught of emotions he is afraid to face after all these years.
Kame is shaking his head. “No,” he replies, with a sad quirk of a smile (but it’s soft, so soft and beautiful that it makes Jin’s hands tremble with remembrance). “No, you’ve always known me best, Jin.”
The sincere, heartbroken unfamiliarity of his own name in Kame’s voice is enough to make Jin’s resolve snap, the protests of his logical thoughts blurring inside his head (there must be something, anything able to prevent him, but the warm, aching breathlessness that seeps through his nerves isn’t an adequate answer). He reaches out and pulls Kame in tight, splaying his fingers across the muscles in Kame’s back, breathing in the sweet scent of his shampoo. “Kazuya,” he murmurs, the ache inside him increasing as his fingers sweep against the fabric of Kame’s jacket.
Kame’s broken laugh seeps through him, and he clings onto it, wrapping his fingers around the other’s and squeezing hard. “Jin,” Kame whispers in his ear, warm breath cascading onto his skin. “I’ve missed you.”
--
The day he meets her is the day the hundred-millionth rumor about Kame and Koizumi is released, a gloomy, cloudy day that mixes in with the fog surrounding the city. He is standing in front of a fruit stand, weighing an apple in his hand when she walks up beside him, moving close against the chilly breeze.
“I know you,” she greets, face friendly, and he turns beneath his disguise to look at her. He recognizes her face from a few stray magazines he was flipping through earlier this week, the gentle curl of long brown hair and dark, wide eyes.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Her smile is brilliant in contrast to the dullness of the weather, and he finds himself smiling back as he lets the apple roll back into place on top of the pile. She laughs, a warm, tinkling sound, and motions towards the street. “Coffee?”
--
He thinks himself in love months later, when he is introducing her to all his friends. What he fails to notice in his happiness is the struck daze she is in as soon as she lays eyes on Yamapi, and the return of the gesture from his best friend - what he fails to miss, the obvious sparks of a love he isn’t meant to have, a love that isn’t destined to be his.
The day before he decides to confess his feelings for her, she finds him instead, her eyes aglow with happiness. “Jin,” she confides, smile always so bright, so beautiful beneath the dim streetlight of nighttime, her jeans resting on the edges of her flats as she fingers the peeling paint of the park bench they are sitting on. “I think I’ve found my true love.”
He turns to her with shining hope, only to find that her gaze is directed elsewhere, soft and far off into the distance, expression lighted in adoration. When he peers up in the direction her eyes are hinted towards, he finds himself looking up at a single, winking star that has broken through the fog of Tokyo (he is reminded of somebody else, and suddenly, he understands).
“Yamapi,” she whispers, the syllables rolling down her tongue in a wisp of gentleness, a curved, rounded breath like she wants to caress the name inside her forever, like a person in love. “Yamashita Tomohisa.”
Jin turns away and closes his eyes, and wills himself against the heartbreak of what isn’t meant to be his.
--
Yamapi’s wedding is on a Saturday, accompanied by light snow and colorful decorations to match the spirit of the holidays. Jin is dressed in his best suit and pants, hair brushed almost neatly in comparison to his usual demeanor.
He arrives early in order to help Yamapi prepare (he knows he has to see her, anyway, but putting it off as long as possible is his ultimate goal). What he doesn’t expect is to find all of the former members of KAT-TUN and NEWS sitting around in chairs in front of the altar, with only Kame and Ryo missing.
In anticipation, he pushes open the door of the dressing room with a cautious hand, and he steps back a little when he is greeted with the sight of Kame, Ryo and Shirota gathered around Yamapi, who is gazing into a body-length mirror a bit anxiously.
“Looks good,” Jin remarks from the doorway, and all four heads turn to look at him. With a suave smile, Jin nods his head, eyes lingering on Kame a moment longer than the rest before returning to Yamapi. “In fact, if I were a girl, I could find myself falling in love with you.”
Yamapi snorts, moving forward to clasp Jin in a giant hug. “Bakanishi,” he mutters fondly, pulling back to gaze at him. “Thanks for coming.”
Jin shrugs, smiling. “Figured the free food would be worth it.”
Yamapi just rolls his eyes, but Jin can see the smile all the same.
--
Kame’s grown closer to Koki as he and Jin have pulled away, and Jin can’t help but feel envious. In fact, he finds himself more jealous of Koki than even Koizumi, though presumably the latter is the one Kame is in love with.
He watches Koki often, his brash, softhearted ways and friendly manners. He thinks of the things Koki has that he will never be able to - having Kame as a best friend, namely, being able to spend nights out at ramen booths and karaoke, being able to crack light jokes and confide worries in.
And then there’s Ueda. Jin tells Ueda more than he should, and what he doesn’t tell, he’s sure Ueda knows anyway, because Ueda’s like that. Even with the knowledge that Ueda is perhaps just as close with Kame as with him, Jin finds himself relying on Ueda to listen to his frustrations and misgivings without uttering a single word about it to anyone else.
At certain times, he wonders what kind of things Kame tells Ueda. He watches Ueda, too - not the way he watches Koki, but with a different perspective. He searches Ueda’s face for hints about Kame, like he is trying to see through a thick glass that is hiding Kame from view. He knows that Ueda knows, that the thing stuck between the both of them, between the full potential of their feelings (or, Jin’s feelings) is Kame, and only Kame.
Because after all this time, Jin tells himself he no longer knows Kame best - not as well as Ueda does, not as well as Koki does.
But what he does know, for certain, is that he will always love Kame best, whether he wants to or not.
--
Ueda is scooping punch into a cup at the food table amidst the increasing amount of guests that is strolling in, and Jin has to weave through numerous greetings and old, familiar faces before he finally makes it to the table. Even though Ueda makes no sign of recognition at his presence, Jin knows he’s been noticed.
“So I thought about what you said last month.” He lets out a silent breath when Ueda glances up in curiosity at him, cup now full. He watches as Ueda takes a quiet sip, nods for him to continue. “And I think you’re right.”
With a laugh, Ueda drums the fingers of his free hand on the tabletop, turns around to lean his back carefully on the edge. “About which part?”
“All of it,” Jin replies. “The whole thing. Everything. My entire life, you’ve always been right.”
Smiling bemusedly, Ueda puts down his punch. “Should I be flattered?” He tilts his head.
Clapping his back, Jin unexpectedly brings him in for a short, tight hug. “Be flattered,” he whispers fondly, and flicks Ueda’s nose with a smile before drawing away. “Thank you, Tat-chan. For staying with me.”
“Permission to join in whatever pleasant conversation is happening?” A familiar female voice jolts Jin a step back, head reeling as his line of view encompasses her, still dressed in a casual skirt and T-shirt. “It’s too early to change. I’m still enjoying the company before I have to get into that awful, stiff dress.” She beams at Jin, eyes openly honest.
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Jin nods, shifting on his feet. He senses Ueda moving away behind him, and wills him a silent thank you.
“It’s been a while,” her voice is gentle, apologetic. “How have you been?”
Swallowing quietly, he forces a pleasant smile. “Good,” he says simply, raising his gaze to hers - and he catches sight of a familiar figure behind her, hands tucked into his pockets and conversing easily with Koki. “Good,” Jin repeats, tone rounder, fonder.
“That’s good,” she smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he feels something release inside of him, the usual clenching washed away as he returns the smile. “Thanks for coming, Jin.”
Kame is moving hesitantly in their direction, Jin notices out of his peripheral vision, and he nods with a continuous smile. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he answers, and for the first time since he thought himself in love with her, he realizes that he is being honest. “Really,” he adds, and sees the change in her eyes; she realizes it too.
“I’m glad,” she replies with the same amount of sincerity, and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He catches a faint whiff of her perfume as she steps away, and he smiles in recognition at the scent, a perfume he’d bought for her birthday long ago. “I should go get dressed now,” she informs him, and nods good-bye, leaving him with a smile as she disappears into the crowd.
Kame is leaning against the end of the table, hair falling in between his eyes as he looks at his watch. Jin smiles at the sight, stepping forward.
“Two more hours to waste,” Kame is the first to speak, his eyes dancing as he turns to Jin. “According to Koki.”
“Two hours, huh?” Swiftly, Jin moves to stand closer, fingertips closing around Kame’s wrist with a tug. Looking up at him, Kame’s lips curve upwards slightly, the only affirmation Jin needs before surging forward, sidestepping around the table and pulling them into the parking lot. Without protest, Kame slips into the seat behind Jin, quietly accepting the helmet offered and circling Jin’s waist with slender arms.
As they zoom in a swerve out of the parking lot, Jin feels a head weigh down on the back of his shoulder blade. “Where are we going?” Kame’s voice is soft in his ear, and he smiles involuntarily.
“You’ll see.”
The rest of the ride is silent, save for a few honks and passing city life. When they arrive at the small entrance of a park, illuminated by the dim light of a street lamp, Jin stops the engine, unbuckling his helmet and pulling it over his head.
Silently, Kame does the same, his eyes taking in the surroundings as Jin watches him closely, leading the way in through the swinging gate and down the path. There are only few stray visitors to the park this late at night, and Jin ignores them, walking forward determinedly to the park bench he is now so familiar with.
“Sit down,” he orders, and Kame complies, crossing his legs habitually. Jin eases onto the bench beside him, and points upwards, through the overhead branches at the blurry night sky.
There’s a single, lonely star winking back at them, shining in its full brilliance, just like the night Jin was here with her, so many years ago. “Oh,” is all Kame says, before he turns to look at Jin, face elegantly shadowed by the night.
Reaching a finger beneath his chin, Jin tilts his face upwards. “What’s our status, Kazuya?” he whispers.
Kame stares at him for a long moment, eyes endless depths of emotion. “Soul mates,” he finally whispers back, voice barely above a breath, and he smiles (that rare, soft smile Jin remembers back from early mornings during Junior days, and it’s all for him, only for him).
“What about Koizumi?”
“Who are you talking about?”
Jin chuckles, allowing Kame a small smile before descending lips onto his, hands moving to clasp around his waist. Kame leans forward into the contact until the small of Jin’s back is pressed into the arm of the bench, breathing heavy as they pull apart. A grin flits across Kame’s features, and Jin gazes up at him with an erratic heartbeat, trembling fingers brushing back a strand of hair that has fallen into his eyes.
“You’re the only star in my sky,” Jin breathes, and Kame laughs, eyes lighted with deep affection.
“I know,” he replies, slides his finger down the bridge of Jin’s nose and to trace his lips before leaning in to press another kiss at the corner. Taking the advantage, Jin locks arms around him, pouring into the kiss the longing that has been pent up inside of him for so long.
“We have to get back to the wedding,” Kame whispers, breaking away, and Jin releases him reluctantly, watching amusedly as he attempts to straighten the folds in his clothing.
“You look fine,” he says, an echo of Kame in the rehearsal room all those years ago. And the smile on Kame’s face is slow and sweet, soft in the illumination of moonlight.
Jin thinks it’s beautiful.
--
KAT-TUN retires on Jin, Kame and Nakamaru’s twentieth anniversary of being in the agency, on the exact date of their audition. The reaction is enormous, but they all believe it’s the right decision - finally, something they were able to agree on together. It’s kind of bittersweet, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t dwell on it much.
The rest of the band seems surprised at his resolve to stay in Japan, all except for Kame and Ueda (Jin is pretty sure Ueda knows why). He talks to Kame more than he did five years ago, but there’s still a certain distance set between them, a kind of habitual boundary that they dare not cross, even though the burden of being a Johnny’s is already disappearing.
But even with the distance setting them apart, Jin is content to wait, because he knows Kame knows why he’s stayed in Japan. Perhaps Kame himself doesn’t even realize it yet, but Jin is certain he knows, involuntarily. He knows because it just is, because it’s Kame (and Kame always will know Jin best).
--
The wedding lasts for five more hours, and by the time Jin has arrived home, his eyelids are drooping in want of sleep. His hike down the hallway to his apartment seems endless, and his exhaustion is so great that he fails to notice the figure sitting against the wall until he barely manages to escape tripping over the extended foot in the middle of the hallway.
“Hey - ” all anger vanishes when Jin looks to see Kame straightening himself up into a standing position, lips quirked. “You,” Jin says, but his voice isn’t at all accusing, even if he’d tried to make it sound like it.
“Me,” Kame answers, and stretches his arms upward as he yawns complacently. “I was thinking you might miss me too much tonight.”
Jin stares at him, eyes darkening as he smiles. “Is that so,” he tilts his head innocently. “And why would you think that?”
“Oh,” feigning disappointment, Kame steps back a little. “Well, if I’m not, then I guess I’ll just be leaving, then. Sorry for disturbing.” He moves as if to walk away, but Jin grabs a hold of his wrist, pulling him in through the front door and locking it before pinning him against it, lips hungry and insistent on his. Smiling against Jin’s mouth, Kame tugs on his collar, and Jin takes the cue to lead him towards the bedroom door, lips never ceasing contact.
With an urgent hand, Jin wrenches the door open, pulling Kame inside before letting it slam closed behind them.
--
The sunlight that filters through his eyelids wakes him up, opening his eyes to see patches of light spotted across the folds of the bedcovers. Rolling over, Jin props up his head in the curve of his palm, his elbow digging into his pillow as he gazes at Kame’s sleeping figure, eyelashes dark against pale skin and defined cheekbones.
“I do appreciate you staring.”
With a start, Jin blinks, watching as Kame’s eyes open, twinkling at him fondly. Clearing his throat, Jin glances downwards. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Laughing, Kame pulls him over, pressing a brief kiss on his mouth before rolling around to sit up, hair mussed and contours soft in the morning sunlight. “Of course you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he replies, carefree, and swings his legs over the bed before standing to stretch and yawn in a feline-like manner. He throws Jin a brilliant smile over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Bakanishi.”
As the bathroom door closes behind him, Jin can’t help but grin to himself (there’s warmth inside his heart, and finally, for once in his life, it doesn’t ache at all).
Because after all, he always loves Kame best.