The Perfect Mess (Part 2)
Title: The Perfect Mess (Gosh, my titles are so corny)
Author: blinkbling24
Pairing: Akame, a little bit of Pin, a little bit of Ryokame
Genre: Romance, teeny weeny bit of angst (not sure if I got it right, bad at genre categorisation, I am)
Rating: NC-17 (although there is no sex, not really, anyway)
Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own them, because if I did, this fic would be in video instead of just words.
Warning: Fic is unbeta-ed, so please excuse the grammer/spelling mistakes, if any.
Summary: What happens when Mr Perfect meets Mr Messy?
A/N: Boredom impregnated me with this fic, and it was a month-long labour, but I've finally given birth to it. It's a sweet little piece, with obvious loopholes because I got sick of being pregnant for so long. Not my best work, nonetheless, I hope you smile a little after reading it. It's meant to be be slightly heartwarming, in any case.
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Jin was right, the show was great, in fact, it was more than great. It was magical, how the lights and music merged with the clothes, providing accent to the feel and concept Kame wanted for his very first show. He saw how the media flocked to Koki, instead of him, and the sense of achievement welled up in him as he reached for a flute of champagne at the after party. Finally, something that stood on its own merit, rather than on his family’s name and reputation.
Finishing off his first flute, and taking another, Kame savoured the moment, wishing that Ryo was by his side. Part of him wanted Ryo to experience this for himself, rather than watch and read about it belatedly on the news, or listen secondhand as Kame related it over the phone. However, a bigger part of Kame, a part that he was trying to deny, was feeling unnaturally insecure. Kame realized that in the crowd of fashion enthusiasts at the after party, with clothes so loud and outstanding, he could almost always pick out that one person in that simple, muted black Hugo Boss suit.
That one person stood out like a beacon amidst the gaudiness of the room. His wide, sloppy grin was always in Kame’s line of sight. His high pitched laugh resonated above the loud, eclectic music, infectious to Kame’s ear. Wherever Kame moved to, whomever Kame stopped to speak to, reporters, investors, people who claimed to know him but he had no clue who they were, Kame felt his presence, in front of him, beside him, behind him, as though that person was an elephant in a roomful of midgets.
Kame was not counting the number of champagne flutes that emptied in his hand, but he was halfway through his current one when the dance floor opened up, heavy beats pulsating. Kame became more aware of the buzz he felt in his brain, and let himself be led to the centre of the dance floor by a very drunk Koki. Something about having the first dance. Kame moved, and when Kame moved, the world stopped. In his white suit with red embellishments over one shoulder, a Tanaka Koki original, Kame commanded the floor. He twirled and twisted in a way that only he knew how. The buzz in his head sounded like static with people’s voices cheering him on in the fuzzy background. The music changed, it was grittier, dirtier, everything opposite of what Kame represented, and yet it thickened the ooze in the pit of Kame’s stomach. When Kame opened his eyes, there he was, Jin, at the DJ console, holding the headphones to his ear with one hand, and scratching the turntable with the other, all the while looking at him.
The pull was undeniable. Jin’s eyes were dark and magnetic. Kame stood still, engulfed by dancing bodies all around him. It was getting suffocating, his blood coursed through his being in a painfully alarming speed. It was heating up, and was getting so hot that he shivered. Jin’s eyes bore into him, drawing him in, intense, demanding.
Forcing himself to turn away, Kame shoved past the sweaty bodies. He walked briskly past the bar and ascended the spiral stairs into the VIP room. The thumping, intoxicating music cut off the minute he closed the heavy door behind him. The silence came as a relief as Kame leaned against the cool wall, his breathing heavy. He tilted his head to the wall and closed his eyes, willing the beating in his chest to still, but alcohol was still flowing in his veins. He was unsteady, high from the success, the dancing, and those eyes.
A suddenly blare of music and then the silence resumed. A heated presence radiated in front of him, and Kame did not have to open his eyes to know who it was. Kame’s body temperature rose several degrees as he heard the ragged breathing mirroring his own.
“Kamenashi,” it was said in breath and Kame lifted his lids to meet with depthless pools that sucked him in.
“Jin, I’m drunk, I…you…shouldn’t……”
“Shhh….”Jin placed his slender index finger on Kame’s lips, leaning in to whisper, “Congratulations once again. You did it. You proved yourself.”
The unadulterated want in Jin’s voice made Kame’s knees go weak. Kame pressed his palms to the wall behind him to support himself. Jin was still leaned in, ghosting Kame’s ear, his skin just behind it, his neck, with his searing breath.
“Jin…I can’t…..Ryo……”
“He’s not here,” Jin nipped Kame’s earlobe with his soft lips.
“Yamapi……” Kame gasped, one hand moving up to hold the nape of Jin’s neck.
Jin’s hand moved to cup Kame’s jaw, tilting Kame’s head for a better angle, “He’s not here either, and god…..” Jin’s lips were on Kame’s neck, feeling the throbbing jugular, licking it, kissing it.
“I…don’t….in..p..public….” Kame tried yet again, resolve fast disappearing, just like his fingers into Jin’s long, soft, uncontrollable curls.
“You’re funny, Kamenashi,” there was no laugh in Jin’s words, instead, it was dripping with hunger. “And very, very sexy,” Jin closed the space between their bodies, making it impossibly hot.
“J..Jin,” Kame choked as Jin grinded forward, groin against groin, erection against erection. Kame reciprocated, and Jin’s groan shot through Kame’s senses like a bolt of lightening. They danced to a rhythm only they could hear, conducted by their muffled grunts, Kame’s mouth busy sucking on every bit of Jin’s exposed neck, Jin’s face buried in Kame’s shoulder, hand gripping tightly on Kame’s butt cheek.
The coil within Kame was slowly uncurling, as Jin’s hands burnt him as they travelled under his jacket, under his shirt that was already pulled out of his pants, onto the bare skin of his chest, of his taut abs, made more taut by the sexual tension he was feeling. The feeling in his groin was beyond what he had ever experienced, and this was only from clothed grinding. It was enough, more than enough.
A strangled sound from the back of Jin’s throat told Kame that he was close too. They were moving faster and faster, the heat unbearable. The tension was stretched so thin that it was going to snap any second. Any second, thought Kame, as he pushed forward harder, feeling every bit of Jin, and letting Jin feel every bit of him.
“Kame…Kame….” Jin moaned, repeating his name over and over, until Kame drowned in it. And then suddenly it was “Kazuya”. Kame was not thinking anymore, just responding to the sensations. He cupped Jin’s face in his hands, and kissed him deep, mouth seeking and desperate, and that was all it took for them to jolt hard against each other, as white spots formed behind their lids, lips bumping with the kiss interrupted by something even more explosive.
His legs felt like they were no longer his as they folded in, causing Kame to collapse onto the ground, pulling Jin with him, riding out the fiercest orgasm he has had in a while. They were wrapped up in each other, a crumpled heap on the floor. Jin’s hair was all over his face, some strands wet and sticking to his forehead and flushed cheeks, his neck was obscenely red in the places that Kame had relentless attacked, his suit creased and askew, and Kame, in that moment of weakness, thought that Jin was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
It was a while before their pants became even breaths. It was a while before Kame’s brain slowly defogged, allowing him to be aware of what he had just done, what they had just done. Kame grimaced, feeling dirty and disgusted with himself. He pushed Jin’s weight away and stood up, his legs finally gaining back their strength. Without a word, he walked towards the private bathroom at the back of the room. There was no way he was going back outside so disheveled.
“Kame,” Jin called out from where he was on the floor. He had made himself comfortable, lying down face up on the carpeting, head turned in Kame’s direction.
Kame stopped but did not turn around, “What is it?”
“What we just did…..” Jin began.
“Will never happen again,” Kame finished, hand on the doorknob.
“I see,” Jin flung an arm over his eyes, but it did not mask the slight disappointment in his tone.
“Akanishi,” this time Kame turned and looked down at Jin, who removed his arm from his eyes.
“Yes, Kamenashi?” There was that grin again, that infuriating grin.
“This was one time, do you understand?” Kame felt like he was speaking to a child.
“Yes, sir, understood,” Jin gave Kame a mock-salute, not taking anything seriously.
Sighing, Kame turned back and opened the door.
“Kame?”
“What?”
“Can I still hang around?”
“You can do anything you want, Jin. I don’t want to have anything more to do with you.”
When Kame emerged from the bathroom, looking impeccable as he always did, Jin was already gone.
*
“See that Akanishi doesn’t come here anymore,” was the first thing Kame said when he arrived at the office the next morning, at precisely 9.28am.
“Errr…..Kamenashi-san?” came a timid reply.
“Don’t ‘Kamenashi-san’ me. Just see that it gets done. If security needs to be brought in, do it. He’s not stepping foot into this building,” Kame ranted, taking off his coat and sunglasses and handing them over to his assistant, “Remember, you owe me for not firing your ass after you told Akanishi my address.” His assistant whimpered in submission.
“Err….Kame-chan?” Koki intercepted Kame’s walk to his office.
“What is up with everyone this morning?” Kame eyed Koki, who had a hesitant look about him. Kame paused for a moment, before picking up pace.
“What is it, Koki? It had better not be bad news about the fabric we ordered weeks ago. Are they here yet?”
Koki shook his head, trying his best to get some words in.
“Why are they not here yet? You know how I hate to be behind schedule. We are not going to make it in time for the industry fashion show in 2 months if this keeps up. Have you checked on them?”
Koki nodded and then lunged forward, “Kame…don’t….”
But Koki was too late. Kame opened the door to his office and froze.
“Good morning, Kamenashi,” Jin waved, sprawled out on the white sofa, as scruffy as ever, feet, with clunky boots still on, propped obnoxiously up on the glass coffee table.
It was like an anvil had fallen from the ceiling and hit Kame on the head. He clenched his jaw and walked to his desk, sitting on his chair with poorly veiled irritation.
“Suzuki-kun,” Kame addressed his poor assistant who was just entering the room with Kame’s coffee, “You’re fired.”
The assistant choked a horrified sob and almost dropped the tray. Koki saved it just in time, and tilted his head to indicate that Kame did not mean it, but he best leave the room before it became reality. Suzuki-kun shot a grateful look at Koki before scurrying out of the room as fast as he could.
Koki set the tray at the table, and mouthed something to Jin, which Jin responded by mouthing back.
“Don’t think I don’t see the both of you,” Kame did not look up from the emails he was checking. “If that thing is not out of my face by the time I’m done with my emails, someone is going to pay,” Kame warned.
“God, what happened between you two?” Koki slapped Jin’s feet down the coffee table and forced him to sit up so that Koki could do so beside him.
“Ask him,” Jin shrugged and gave a big stretch as he stood up.
Kame slammed his hand on his keyboard, “Ask me?! ASK ME???!!! Fuck you Jin, really, you’re like a thorn in my flesh, and…and….” Kame’s voice is getting high pitched.
“Not in public, remember?” Jin raised an eyebrow, and Kame instantly deflated. He put a finger on each side of his temple and started massaging, trying to soothe his headache.
“Koki, leave us alone. Go check on that fabric.”
“Kame-chan….but…”
“Just go. My morning schedule has already been upset. Don’t upset me further,” Kame waved Koki off, closing his eyes as he felt his headache escalate, completely missing the silent exchange of looks between Koki and Jin.
With Koki out of ear shot, Kame opened his eyes and glared at Jin.
“You really have no shame, do you? Coming here after what you did,” Kame spat as he scanned his desk for his morning paper. Before he could reach for it, Jin took the liberty of sitting on his desk, on the very paper Kame wanted to read.
“Admit it, you liked it, Kamenashi,” Jin’s look was smouldering if Kame actually bothered to look. He was mostly annoyed by the fact that Jin was on his desk. A desk was not a chair, a desk was not meant to be sat on.
“Don’t flatter yourself Akanishi, you took advantage of me,” Kame met Jin’s eyes, but turned away quickly because he wanted to yank the newspaper from under Jin, not because Jin’s eyes said too much, made Kame respond too much. He managed to free the paper after much effort, and just as he was about to flip it open, Jin leaned in and kissed him, tasting so much like morning coffee and honey buttered toast.
Caught by surprise, Kame’s first reaction was to return it, pulling Jin closer by his t-shirt. Why was it that Jin’s lips were so soft, so warm? Kame spied his assistant gaping through the glass walls and shot him a I’m-going-to-so-fire-your-ass look before pushing Jin off with as much force as he could.
“What the fuck Jin?! Seriously!” Kame flicked the paper and started to read it.
“I wouldn’t read it if I were you,” Jin said, coming back from a stumble and trying to pull the paper out of Kame’s hands. Kame’s grip was deathlike.
“Why not? So that I can make out with you in broad daylight? I have a boyfriend, Jin, even if you now don’t,” Kame retorted, and fell back in his chair a little as Jin ceased to pull.
Jin rolled his eyes, “Ok fine, suit yourself. I warned you. Everyone was trying to warn you. I just think it’s best you hear it from him yourself,” Jin sat back down on the white sofa, propping his feet back up on the coffee table.
“What are you talking about? And get your feet off……” No more words fell out from Kame as the headlines of the paper screamed deafeningly at him.
JAPANESE OIL HEIR, NISHIKIDO RYO, IN A NEW ROMANCE
Nishikido Ryo, 26, the only son to Japan’s oil empire has been spotted canoodling with an unidentified handsome young gentleman in an upscale restaurant in Abu Dhabi. The pair looked like they were basking in the joy of new love, feeding each other and stealing kisses, oblivious to everyone around them. Does this mean that Nishikido’s long-time relationship with millionaire socialite slash businessman Kamenashi Kazuya is officially over?
A reasonably sized picture, quarter page to be exact, accompanied the article, of someone unmistakably Ryo holding hands with said unidentified handsome young gentleman as they left the restaurant. Except that the handsome young gentleman was not unidentifiable to Kame. Kame knew exactly who it was.
Jin was sitting in silence, studying Kame as Kame studied the article.
“I’m surprised your phone is not ringing off the hook,” Jin remarked, bringing Kame out of his reverie.
“The media has the number that routes straight to my publicist. I’m sure she’s handling it, that’s what I pay an obscene amount for her to do,” Kame replied absentmindedly, looking up to face Jin. Jin shot Kame a weak smile.
“You knew about this that night, didn’t you?” Kame accused.
“Yamapi said that Nishikido wanted to tell you himself,” Jin’s tone was harsh.
“How….why…..we just….last night……nevermind, I’ll speak to him myself,” Kame proceeded to tap Ryo’s number on his BlackBerry.
“Kame, you ok?” Jin asked cautiously, seeing that a frown has deeply etched itself on Kame’s face.
“Yeah, for now,” Kame said as he heard the ring tone on the end, “I just can’t believe they are still calling me a socialite.” He tossed the newspaper over to Jin just as Ryo’s voice came through.
*
“Kame….I can explain……”
A voice in the background told Kame that Ryo was not alone. His gut twisted with betrayal but he kept his composure.
“If you wanted to have your cake and eat it, be smart about it Ryo. Having your dirty laundry splashed on the front page of the morning paper is not classy.”
“It’s not like that, Kame, I wanted to tell you…before…..”
“When?! When were you going to tell me?” Kame’s voice was getting progressively louder, “God Ryo! Why did you even bother to have phone sex with me last night? Isn’t Yamapi giving sex on tap?”
In the midst of drinking Kame’s already stone cold coffee, Jin choked, and projectile spit onto some documents on Kame’s desk. Jin frantically used his t-shirt to soak up the mess, staining his shirt, sending Kame’s already high blood pressure to boiling point. If Kame was not busy listening to Ryo’s feeble attempts at an explanation, he would have already punched Jin in the stomach.
“I wanted to tell you last night, I forget that you had scheduled us to have phone sex. You went on about how my call was right on schedule, and asked me to get on with it because you had something else to do 33 minutes later so, I..er…kinda…did. You’re kinda hard to say no to, Kame.”
Great. So it was his fault he was the last to know. Kame was trying to digest whatever Ryo was saying when Ryo spoke again.
“I'm so sorry for hurting you. Yamapi and I, I don’t know how it happened. We bumped into each other a few months ago in Dubai, he had just landed from a flight. We went out for drinks, and every time since then, when he flew here, he would look me up if I were here, and we, it just happened…..Kame, I’m so so sorry.”
“So you’ve been going at it behind my back?” Kame asked pointedly, but he was already feeling tired.
“I’m sorry Kame, but you have to know, you do know, you and me, we had already fizzled out.”
Kame did know, he had known it for quite some time, but Ryo was perfect for him. If it was not Ryo, it could never be anybody else. No one suited Kame the way Ryo did.
“It doesn’t make what you did to me right,” there was no point, not anymore. Ryo’s heart was no longer his, and Kame knew that his heart was never Ryo’s in the first place, not really.
“I know. Again, I’m sorry, really really sorry. Please forgive me, forgive us.”
“We’ll talk more when you get back. You owe it to me to clean up this media mess. It’s your mess, and you know how much I hate mess.”
“I understand, thank you….”
“Ryo?”
“Yes?” Kame looked over at Jin who was trying not to move more than necessary lest he incurred further wrath from Kame.
“You hurt Jin too you know,” was the last thing Kame said before he disconnected the call.
Emotionally exhausted, Kame slumped next to Jin on the sofa. They sat shoulder to shoulder for a while.
“You heard?” Kame broke the silence, turning to look at Jin with slight disgust at the stains on his t-shirt.
Jin nodded. “Your end of it anyway. You forgot to chase me out. It was hard not to,” there was that grin again, but the concern is Jin’s eyes was real.
“This is turning out to be a shitty day. I knew it the moment I saw you in my office,” Kame sighed, but there was no bite in his words. Jin reached for Kame’s hand, but before he could take it, Kame stood up and dusted himself off.
“Shall we get out of here?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“But your afternoon schedule…..”
“I’m not going to be able to concentrate and get things done sitting here. I might as well wreck this day entirely,” Kame walked to the door, “you coming?”
“Sure!” Jin bounded up to him, if he had a tail, it would be wagging.
“But first, we have got to get Koki to find you something else to wear. I’m not going to be seen out with someone with coffee stains on his t-shirt, and Suzuki-kun, if you don’t stop staring, you will really be packing your things!”
*
“Where are we?”
They had taken Kame’s Porsche and had driven a good distance out of the city area. The scenery changed from tall, concrete buildings to sprawling grounds of greenery. They were just entering a wrought iron gate that Kame opened with a remote control in his car into a long driveway when Jin asked the question.
Kame did not reply. Instead, he drove further down the driveway until a stately looking house, with the exterior walls almost completely covered by creeping ferns, appeared. Kame stopped the car right at the solid oak front door, and stepped out. Jin followed suit. Kame opened the door with a big brass key and walked into the house. Jin half expected to be greeted by a gust of dust as he trailed behind Kame, but the interior of the house was pristine, even though the furniture looked like it belonged to another era.
Taking Jin’s hand, Kame led him to a part of the house, up the stairs, into one of the rooms at the far end of the corridor. “Don’t touch anything,” was Kame’s order before they stepped into the room, and Jin realized that it was Kame’s room, Kame’s childhood room, with posters of baseball heroes on the walls, and junior baseball trophies in the glass cabinets. On the old school desk was a picture of a teenage Kamenashi, smiling from ear to ear, until his eyes were mere slits, sun shining on his face, holding his baseball mitt, with his family around him. It was a Kamenashi Kazuya that Jin had never seen before.
“I refuse to let my father touch this house. I grew up here, for Christ’s sake,” Kame walked to the four-poster bed in the middle of the room and flopped down onto it. The bed looked too big for Kame’s slim frame, and Jin could only imagine how the bed swallowed the childhood Kamenashi up.
“Father said that this house was too small for our family to own, and it’s too far out from anything to be of use. He wanted to demolish it, and sell the land to commercial farmers. But I stopped him,” Kame told his story from the bed, lying on it, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Jin stood where he was, at the door, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.
“I remember my days in this house. I used to run in and out, all sandy and muddy in my baseball uniform. I had not a care in the world. My life was so simple. My loves were so simple….”
“So, you weren’t always so anal retentive?” Jin had to ask, he could not help it.
“Shut up,” Kame turned to shoot Jin a contemptuous look before fixing his eyes back on the ceiling, “I’m doing what I have to do, to prove myself, to step out of my family’s shadow. To show that I’m not just a spoilt brat living off my family’s money. I want to stand on my own as Kamenashi Kazuya. It is with a lot of discipline, hard work and determination that I am where I am today, don’t mock it, Akanishi.”
Jin had already walked up to the side of the bed. He sat down on it, and Kame moved a little to make space, an invitation for Jin to lie down beside him.
“I still come here though, when things get too hard, when I need to think,” Kame admitted through a sigh.
Not knowing what to say, Jin closed his eyes. They were silent and time passed slowly. Jin thought Kame had fallen asleep, his breathing was steady. Jin was just about to drift off himself, when Kame started to speak again.
“Were you hurt, Jin, when you found out?”
“I mourned for the dead relationship, I cried didn’t I, that night, in your arms? I was drunk, but I remember,” Jin kept his eyes closed.
“You must have really loved him,” Kame said.
“Didn’t you? Love Nishikido?” Jin deflected Kame’s statement. Jin had known for a long time who he loved, and he wanted to know what Kame thought.
“You know, I thought I did,” Kame turned his head to look at Jin, who in turn did the same.
“But I must not have loved him if all I feel now is numb. Numb to the whole situation, and maybe a little bit sad that we weren’t meant to be. There’s no profound hurt though,” Kame continued and smiled a weak smile.
Jin wanted so much to reach out and caress Kame’s soft cheek, but he held back. It has been a long day for Kame, and Jin did not want to burden Kame with anything else. He could wait, he has been waiting. So, he just stayed by Kame’s side, on the big soft bed, until the sun set and it was time to go back to the city.
*
Part 3
Author: blinkbling24
Pairing: Akame, a little bit of Pin, a little bit of Ryokame
Genre: Romance, teeny weeny bit of angst (not sure if I got it right, bad at genre categorisation, I am)
Rating: NC-17 (although there is no sex, not really, anyway)
Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own them, because if I did, this fic would be in video instead of just words.
Warning: Fic is unbeta-ed, so please excuse the grammer/spelling mistakes, if any.
Summary: What happens when Mr Perfect meets Mr Messy?
A/N: Boredom impregnated me with this fic, and it was a month-long labour, but I've finally given birth to it. It's a sweet little piece, with obvious loopholes because I got sick of being pregnant for so long. Not my best work, nonetheless, I hope you smile a little after reading it. It's meant to be be slightly heartwarming, in any case.
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Jin was right, the show was great, in fact, it was more than great. It was magical, how the lights and music merged with the clothes, providing accent to the feel and concept Kame wanted for his very first show. He saw how the media flocked to Koki, instead of him, and the sense of achievement welled up in him as he reached for a flute of champagne at the after party. Finally, something that stood on its own merit, rather than on his family’s name and reputation.
Finishing off his first flute, and taking another, Kame savoured the moment, wishing that Ryo was by his side. Part of him wanted Ryo to experience this for himself, rather than watch and read about it belatedly on the news, or listen secondhand as Kame related it over the phone. However, a bigger part of Kame, a part that he was trying to deny, was feeling unnaturally insecure. Kame realized that in the crowd of fashion enthusiasts at the after party, with clothes so loud and outstanding, he could almost always pick out that one person in that simple, muted black Hugo Boss suit.
That one person stood out like a beacon amidst the gaudiness of the room. His wide, sloppy grin was always in Kame’s line of sight. His high pitched laugh resonated above the loud, eclectic music, infectious to Kame’s ear. Wherever Kame moved to, whomever Kame stopped to speak to, reporters, investors, people who claimed to know him but he had no clue who they were, Kame felt his presence, in front of him, beside him, behind him, as though that person was an elephant in a roomful of midgets.
Kame was not counting the number of champagne flutes that emptied in his hand, but he was halfway through his current one when the dance floor opened up, heavy beats pulsating. Kame became more aware of the buzz he felt in his brain, and let himself be led to the centre of the dance floor by a very drunk Koki. Something about having the first dance. Kame moved, and when Kame moved, the world stopped. In his white suit with red embellishments over one shoulder, a Tanaka Koki original, Kame commanded the floor. He twirled and twisted in a way that only he knew how. The buzz in his head sounded like static with people’s voices cheering him on in the fuzzy background. The music changed, it was grittier, dirtier, everything opposite of what Kame represented, and yet it thickened the ooze in the pit of Kame’s stomach. When Kame opened his eyes, there he was, Jin, at the DJ console, holding the headphones to his ear with one hand, and scratching the turntable with the other, all the while looking at him.
The pull was undeniable. Jin’s eyes were dark and magnetic. Kame stood still, engulfed by dancing bodies all around him. It was getting suffocating, his blood coursed through his being in a painfully alarming speed. It was heating up, and was getting so hot that he shivered. Jin’s eyes bore into him, drawing him in, intense, demanding.
Forcing himself to turn away, Kame shoved past the sweaty bodies. He walked briskly past the bar and ascended the spiral stairs into the VIP room. The thumping, intoxicating music cut off the minute he closed the heavy door behind him. The silence came as a relief as Kame leaned against the cool wall, his breathing heavy. He tilted his head to the wall and closed his eyes, willing the beating in his chest to still, but alcohol was still flowing in his veins. He was unsteady, high from the success, the dancing, and those eyes.
A suddenly blare of music and then the silence resumed. A heated presence radiated in front of him, and Kame did not have to open his eyes to know who it was. Kame’s body temperature rose several degrees as he heard the ragged breathing mirroring his own.
“Kamenashi,” it was said in breath and Kame lifted his lids to meet with depthless pools that sucked him in.
“Jin, I’m drunk, I…you…shouldn’t……”
“Shhh….”Jin placed his slender index finger on Kame’s lips, leaning in to whisper, “Congratulations once again. You did it. You proved yourself.”
The unadulterated want in Jin’s voice made Kame’s knees go weak. Kame pressed his palms to the wall behind him to support himself. Jin was still leaned in, ghosting Kame’s ear, his skin just behind it, his neck, with his searing breath.
“Jin…I can’t…..Ryo……”
“He’s not here,” Jin nipped Kame’s earlobe with his soft lips.
“Yamapi……” Kame gasped, one hand moving up to hold the nape of Jin’s neck.
Jin’s hand moved to cup Kame’s jaw, tilting Kame’s head for a better angle, “He’s not here either, and god…..” Jin’s lips were on Kame’s neck, feeling the throbbing jugular, licking it, kissing it.
“I…don’t….in..p..public….” Kame tried yet again, resolve fast disappearing, just like his fingers into Jin’s long, soft, uncontrollable curls.
“You’re funny, Kamenashi,” there was no laugh in Jin’s words, instead, it was dripping with hunger. “And very, very sexy,” Jin closed the space between their bodies, making it impossibly hot.
“J..Jin,” Kame choked as Jin grinded forward, groin against groin, erection against erection. Kame reciprocated, and Jin’s groan shot through Kame’s senses like a bolt of lightening. They danced to a rhythm only they could hear, conducted by their muffled grunts, Kame’s mouth busy sucking on every bit of Jin’s exposed neck, Jin’s face buried in Kame’s shoulder, hand gripping tightly on Kame’s butt cheek.
The coil within Kame was slowly uncurling, as Jin’s hands burnt him as they travelled under his jacket, under his shirt that was already pulled out of his pants, onto the bare skin of his chest, of his taut abs, made more taut by the sexual tension he was feeling. The feeling in his groin was beyond what he had ever experienced, and this was only from clothed grinding. It was enough, more than enough.
A strangled sound from the back of Jin’s throat told Kame that he was close too. They were moving faster and faster, the heat unbearable. The tension was stretched so thin that it was going to snap any second. Any second, thought Kame, as he pushed forward harder, feeling every bit of Jin, and letting Jin feel every bit of him.
“Kame…Kame….” Jin moaned, repeating his name over and over, until Kame drowned in it. And then suddenly it was “Kazuya”. Kame was not thinking anymore, just responding to the sensations. He cupped Jin’s face in his hands, and kissed him deep, mouth seeking and desperate, and that was all it took for them to jolt hard against each other, as white spots formed behind their lids, lips bumping with the kiss interrupted by something even more explosive.
His legs felt like they were no longer his as they folded in, causing Kame to collapse onto the ground, pulling Jin with him, riding out the fiercest orgasm he has had in a while. They were wrapped up in each other, a crumpled heap on the floor. Jin’s hair was all over his face, some strands wet and sticking to his forehead and flushed cheeks, his neck was obscenely red in the places that Kame had relentless attacked, his suit creased and askew, and Kame, in that moment of weakness, thought that Jin was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
It was a while before their pants became even breaths. It was a while before Kame’s brain slowly defogged, allowing him to be aware of what he had just done, what they had just done. Kame grimaced, feeling dirty and disgusted with himself. He pushed Jin’s weight away and stood up, his legs finally gaining back their strength. Without a word, he walked towards the private bathroom at the back of the room. There was no way he was going back outside so disheveled.
“Kame,” Jin called out from where he was on the floor. He had made himself comfortable, lying down face up on the carpeting, head turned in Kame’s direction.
Kame stopped but did not turn around, “What is it?”
“What we just did…..” Jin began.
“Will never happen again,” Kame finished, hand on the doorknob.
“I see,” Jin flung an arm over his eyes, but it did not mask the slight disappointment in his tone.
“Akanishi,” this time Kame turned and looked down at Jin, who removed his arm from his eyes.
“Yes, Kamenashi?” There was that grin again, that infuriating grin.
“This was one time, do you understand?” Kame felt like he was speaking to a child.
“Yes, sir, understood,” Jin gave Kame a mock-salute, not taking anything seriously.
Sighing, Kame turned back and opened the door.
“Kame?”
“What?”
“Can I still hang around?”
“You can do anything you want, Jin. I don’t want to have anything more to do with you.”
When Kame emerged from the bathroom, looking impeccable as he always did, Jin was already gone.
*
“See that Akanishi doesn’t come here anymore,” was the first thing Kame said when he arrived at the office the next morning, at precisely 9.28am.
“Errr…..Kamenashi-san?” came a timid reply.
“Don’t ‘Kamenashi-san’ me. Just see that it gets done. If security needs to be brought in, do it. He’s not stepping foot into this building,” Kame ranted, taking off his coat and sunglasses and handing them over to his assistant, “Remember, you owe me for not firing your ass after you told Akanishi my address.” His assistant whimpered in submission.
“Err….Kame-chan?” Koki intercepted Kame’s walk to his office.
“What is up with everyone this morning?” Kame eyed Koki, who had a hesitant look about him. Kame paused for a moment, before picking up pace.
“What is it, Koki? It had better not be bad news about the fabric we ordered weeks ago. Are they here yet?”
Koki shook his head, trying his best to get some words in.
“Why are they not here yet? You know how I hate to be behind schedule. We are not going to make it in time for the industry fashion show in 2 months if this keeps up. Have you checked on them?”
Koki nodded and then lunged forward, “Kame…don’t….”
But Koki was too late. Kame opened the door to his office and froze.
“Good morning, Kamenashi,” Jin waved, sprawled out on the white sofa, as scruffy as ever, feet, with clunky boots still on, propped obnoxiously up on the glass coffee table.
It was like an anvil had fallen from the ceiling and hit Kame on the head. He clenched his jaw and walked to his desk, sitting on his chair with poorly veiled irritation.
“Suzuki-kun,” Kame addressed his poor assistant who was just entering the room with Kame’s coffee, “You’re fired.”
The assistant choked a horrified sob and almost dropped the tray. Koki saved it just in time, and tilted his head to indicate that Kame did not mean it, but he best leave the room before it became reality. Suzuki-kun shot a grateful look at Koki before scurrying out of the room as fast as he could.
Koki set the tray at the table, and mouthed something to Jin, which Jin responded by mouthing back.
“Don’t think I don’t see the both of you,” Kame did not look up from the emails he was checking. “If that thing is not out of my face by the time I’m done with my emails, someone is going to pay,” Kame warned.
“God, what happened between you two?” Koki slapped Jin’s feet down the coffee table and forced him to sit up so that Koki could do so beside him.
“Ask him,” Jin shrugged and gave a big stretch as he stood up.
Kame slammed his hand on his keyboard, “Ask me?! ASK ME???!!! Fuck you Jin, really, you’re like a thorn in my flesh, and…and….” Kame’s voice is getting high pitched.
“Not in public, remember?” Jin raised an eyebrow, and Kame instantly deflated. He put a finger on each side of his temple and started massaging, trying to soothe his headache.
“Koki, leave us alone. Go check on that fabric.”
“Kame-chan….but…”
“Just go. My morning schedule has already been upset. Don’t upset me further,” Kame waved Koki off, closing his eyes as he felt his headache escalate, completely missing the silent exchange of looks between Koki and Jin.
With Koki out of ear shot, Kame opened his eyes and glared at Jin.
“You really have no shame, do you? Coming here after what you did,” Kame spat as he scanned his desk for his morning paper. Before he could reach for it, Jin took the liberty of sitting on his desk, on the very paper Kame wanted to read.
“Admit it, you liked it, Kamenashi,” Jin’s look was smouldering if Kame actually bothered to look. He was mostly annoyed by the fact that Jin was on his desk. A desk was not a chair, a desk was not meant to be sat on.
“Don’t flatter yourself Akanishi, you took advantage of me,” Kame met Jin’s eyes, but turned away quickly because he wanted to yank the newspaper from under Jin, not because Jin’s eyes said too much, made Kame respond too much. He managed to free the paper after much effort, and just as he was about to flip it open, Jin leaned in and kissed him, tasting so much like morning coffee and honey buttered toast.
Caught by surprise, Kame’s first reaction was to return it, pulling Jin closer by his t-shirt. Why was it that Jin’s lips were so soft, so warm? Kame spied his assistant gaping through the glass walls and shot him a I’m-going-to-so-fire-your-ass look before pushing Jin off with as much force as he could.
“What the fuck Jin?! Seriously!” Kame flicked the paper and started to read it.
“I wouldn’t read it if I were you,” Jin said, coming back from a stumble and trying to pull the paper out of Kame’s hands. Kame’s grip was deathlike.
“Why not? So that I can make out with you in broad daylight? I have a boyfriend, Jin, even if you now don’t,” Kame retorted, and fell back in his chair a little as Jin ceased to pull.
Jin rolled his eyes, “Ok fine, suit yourself. I warned you. Everyone was trying to warn you. I just think it’s best you hear it from him yourself,” Jin sat back down on the white sofa, propping his feet back up on the coffee table.
“What are you talking about? And get your feet off……” No more words fell out from Kame as the headlines of the paper screamed deafeningly at him.
JAPANESE OIL HEIR, NISHIKIDO RYO, IN A NEW ROMANCE
Nishikido Ryo, 26, the only son to Japan’s oil empire has been spotted canoodling with an unidentified handsome young gentleman in an upscale restaurant in Abu Dhabi. The pair looked like they were basking in the joy of new love, feeding each other and stealing kisses, oblivious to everyone around them. Does this mean that Nishikido’s long-time relationship with millionaire socialite slash businessman Kamenashi Kazuya is officially over?
A reasonably sized picture, quarter page to be exact, accompanied the article, of someone unmistakably Ryo holding hands with said unidentified handsome young gentleman as they left the restaurant. Except that the handsome young gentleman was not unidentifiable to Kame. Kame knew exactly who it was.
Jin was sitting in silence, studying Kame as Kame studied the article.
“I’m surprised your phone is not ringing off the hook,” Jin remarked, bringing Kame out of his reverie.
“The media has the number that routes straight to my publicist. I’m sure she’s handling it, that’s what I pay an obscene amount for her to do,” Kame replied absentmindedly, looking up to face Jin. Jin shot Kame a weak smile.
“You knew about this that night, didn’t you?” Kame accused.
“Yamapi said that Nishikido wanted to tell you himself,” Jin’s tone was harsh.
“How….why…..we just….last night……nevermind, I’ll speak to him myself,” Kame proceeded to tap Ryo’s number on his BlackBerry.
“Kame, you ok?” Jin asked cautiously, seeing that a frown has deeply etched itself on Kame’s face.
“Yeah, for now,” Kame said as he heard the ring tone on the end, “I just can’t believe they are still calling me a socialite.” He tossed the newspaper over to Jin just as Ryo’s voice came through.
*
“Kame….I can explain……”
A voice in the background told Kame that Ryo was not alone. His gut twisted with betrayal but he kept his composure.
“If you wanted to have your cake and eat it, be smart about it Ryo. Having your dirty laundry splashed on the front page of the morning paper is not classy.”
“It’s not like that, Kame, I wanted to tell you…before…..”
“When?! When were you going to tell me?” Kame’s voice was getting progressively louder, “God Ryo! Why did you even bother to have phone sex with me last night? Isn’t Yamapi giving sex on tap?”
In the midst of drinking Kame’s already stone cold coffee, Jin choked, and projectile spit onto some documents on Kame’s desk. Jin frantically used his t-shirt to soak up the mess, staining his shirt, sending Kame’s already high blood pressure to boiling point. If Kame was not busy listening to Ryo’s feeble attempts at an explanation, he would have already punched Jin in the stomach.
“I wanted to tell you last night, I forget that you had scheduled us to have phone sex. You went on about how my call was right on schedule, and asked me to get on with it because you had something else to do 33 minutes later so, I..er…kinda…did. You’re kinda hard to say no to, Kame.”
Great. So it was his fault he was the last to know. Kame was trying to digest whatever Ryo was saying when Ryo spoke again.
“I'm so sorry for hurting you. Yamapi and I, I don’t know how it happened. We bumped into each other a few months ago in Dubai, he had just landed from a flight. We went out for drinks, and every time since then, when he flew here, he would look me up if I were here, and we, it just happened…..Kame, I’m so so sorry.”
“So you’ve been going at it behind my back?” Kame asked pointedly, but he was already feeling tired.
“I’m sorry Kame, but you have to know, you do know, you and me, we had already fizzled out.”
Kame did know, he had known it for quite some time, but Ryo was perfect for him. If it was not Ryo, it could never be anybody else. No one suited Kame the way Ryo did.
“It doesn’t make what you did to me right,” there was no point, not anymore. Ryo’s heart was no longer his, and Kame knew that his heart was never Ryo’s in the first place, not really.
“I know. Again, I’m sorry, really really sorry. Please forgive me, forgive us.”
“We’ll talk more when you get back. You owe it to me to clean up this media mess. It’s your mess, and you know how much I hate mess.”
“I understand, thank you….”
“Ryo?”
“Yes?” Kame looked over at Jin who was trying not to move more than necessary lest he incurred further wrath from Kame.
“You hurt Jin too you know,” was the last thing Kame said before he disconnected the call.
Emotionally exhausted, Kame slumped next to Jin on the sofa. They sat shoulder to shoulder for a while.
“You heard?” Kame broke the silence, turning to look at Jin with slight disgust at the stains on his t-shirt.
Jin nodded. “Your end of it anyway. You forgot to chase me out. It was hard not to,” there was that grin again, but the concern is Jin’s eyes was real.
“This is turning out to be a shitty day. I knew it the moment I saw you in my office,” Kame sighed, but there was no bite in his words. Jin reached for Kame’s hand, but before he could take it, Kame stood up and dusted himself off.
“Shall we get out of here?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“But your afternoon schedule…..”
“I’m not going to be able to concentrate and get things done sitting here. I might as well wreck this day entirely,” Kame walked to the door, “you coming?”
“Sure!” Jin bounded up to him, if he had a tail, it would be wagging.
“But first, we have got to get Koki to find you something else to wear. I’m not going to be seen out with someone with coffee stains on his t-shirt, and Suzuki-kun, if you don’t stop staring, you will really be packing your things!”
*
“Where are we?”
They had taken Kame’s Porsche and had driven a good distance out of the city area. The scenery changed from tall, concrete buildings to sprawling grounds of greenery. They were just entering a wrought iron gate that Kame opened with a remote control in his car into a long driveway when Jin asked the question.
Kame did not reply. Instead, he drove further down the driveway until a stately looking house, with the exterior walls almost completely covered by creeping ferns, appeared. Kame stopped the car right at the solid oak front door, and stepped out. Jin followed suit. Kame opened the door with a big brass key and walked into the house. Jin half expected to be greeted by a gust of dust as he trailed behind Kame, but the interior of the house was pristine, even though the furniture looked like it belonged to another era.
Taking Jin’s hand, Kame led him to a part of the house, up the stairs, into one of the rooms at the far end of the corridor. “Don’t touch anything,” was Kame’s order before they stepped into the room, and Jin realized that it was Kame’s room, Kame’s childhood room, with posters of baseball heroes on the walls, and junior baseball trophies in the glass cabinets. On the old school desk was a picture of a teenage Kamenashi, smiling from ear to ear, until his eyes were mere slits, sun shining on his face, holding his baseball mitt, with his family around him. It was a Kamenashi Kazuya that Jin had never seen before.
“I refuse to let my father touch this house. I grew up here, for Christ’s sake,” Kame walked to the four-poster bed in the middle of the room and flopped down onto it. The bed looked too big for Kame’s slim frame, and Jin could only imagine how the bed swallowed the childhood Kamenashi up.
“Father said that this house was too small for our family to own, and it’s too far out from anything to be of use. He wanted to demolish it, and sell the land to commercial farmers. But I stopped him,” Kame told his story from the bed, lying on it, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Jin stood where he was, at the door, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.
“I remember my days in this house. I used to run in and out, all sandy and muddy in my baseball uniform. I had not a care in the world. My life was so simple. My loves were so simple….”
“So, you weren’t always so anal retentive?” Jin had to ask, he could not help it.
“Shut up,” Kame turned to shoot Jin a contemptuous look before fixing his eyes back on the ceiling, “I’m doing what I have to do, to prove myself, to step out of my family’s shadow. To show that I’m not just a spoilt brat living off my family’s money. I want to stand on my own as Kamenashi Kazuya. It is with a lot of discipline, hard work and determination that I am where I am today, don’t mock it, Akanishi.”
Jin had already walked up to the side of the bed. He sat down on it, and Kame moved a little to make space, an invitation for Jin to lie down beside him.
“I still come here though, when things get too hard, when I need to think,” Kame admitted through a sigh.
Not knowing what to say, Jin closed his eyes. They were silent and time passed slowly. Jin thought Kame had fallen asleep, his breathing was steady. Jin was just about to drift off himself, when Kame started to speak again.
“Were you hurt, Jin, when you found out?”
“I mourned for the dead relationship, I cried didn’t I, that night, in your arms? I was drunk, but I remember,” Jin kept his eyes closed.
“You must have really loved him,” Kame said.
“Didn’t you? Love Nishikido?” Jin deflected Kame’s statement. Jin had known for a long time who he loved, and he wanted to know what Kame thought.
“You know, I thought I did,” Kame turned his head to look at Jin, who in turn did the same.
“But I must not have loved him if all I feel now is numb. Numb to the whole situation, and maybe a little bit sad that we weren’t meant to be. There’s no profound hurt though,” Kame continued and smiled a weak smile.
Jin wanted so much to reach out and caress Kame’s soft cheek, but he held back. It has been a long day for Kame, and Jin did not want to burden Kame with anything else. He could wait, he has been waiting. So, he just stayed by Kame’s side, on the big soft bed, until the sun set and it was time to go back to the city.
*
Part 3