fic: The After-clock
Kame has a habit of breathing. Inhale, exhale, deep and throaty yet exclusively silent. Jin has a habit of finding it disgusting.
Jin closes his eyes and the picture gets smeared with a shade of muddy brown, a colour as if the moon for the sun of Kame’s ruptured idol-teeth. When his eyes flutter open again Kame’s still put where he is, eyes tiredly glazed and unfocused in a direction far apart from him. And yes - Kame has a habit of breathing. A thin swirl of nitrogen-oxygen-water-vapour-argon-carbon-dioxide passes his numbed lips forward and backward but for some reason Jin has had this habit of disbelieving in him actually really breathing like any other normal would. Kame’s too dismantled to breathe, he’s been deciding.
(He’s disgusting with those shattering bones he has.)
It all started with the clocks.
Now he just simply cannot be breathing like any other person anymore.
--
Two teens sit jammed together in the corner. Two teen-like eyes follow the hassle in front of them, fingers playing with nearly-empty aluminium cans of that beer one of them finds disgusting and pointless. Kame just doesn’t know what he’s doing there, Jin knows. Yet there he is, amidst the loud mess of young people.
Jin finishes his drink and sets the can down, turning to look at the other boy’s ridiculously skinny form as he just plays with his drink in his hand. His aura is anxiety and Jin can feel its numbness beside him. It’s all about the way it tickles his lips.
(His chest always feels too unnaturally tight beside him when they’re displayed to such a faceless mass of meaningless people.)
Kame leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes, expression a clear picture-dictionary example of disgust (Jin knows he’ll come to know disgust in his life as he sits beside him) and nails softly scratching his wrist. Jin wonders if he’s crazy, but he already knows the answer. Everyone is.
Jin sways where he sits, head spinning and the urge to vomit tickling his throat, trying to lure his approval. Kame’s eyes make a short stop on him before passing to see the clock nailed somewhere on the opposite floor.
Pi makes his way over and shoves a glass of water in Jin’s hand, ruffling his hair and laughing. Dead-drunk.
“Time for sleep, Jin-Jin,” he giggles and ruffles his hair. Jin grumbles and turns his face away, avoidant.
He loses sight of what is normal, right and wrong - when he moulds into Kame it feels like Kame is the perfect interpretation of world, but that is only what makes it confusing. There was a time, somewhere far in the past, where world was laughter, naivety and courage. Being stupid. The current Pi.
But Kame shifting beside him, sending his can rolling on the floor and leaving a slippery stain, makes him think different. He fuses and Kame is wrong. He’s perfection.
He makes the world look ugly and the people on it. But, for some strange reason, it makes him all the more beautiful and worthwhile. He’s a goddamn fucking starlight and that’s about it to him.
(Or maybe he’s frost on the late autumn leaves.)
Pi’s suddenly away and Kame takes the water glass from Jin’s hand. His sigh is heavy and tired as he helps Jin to drink and wipes his chin with his sleeve afterwards. Jin just feels and hears heartbeat and heat.
He struggles a small while to remove his silvery watch from his wrist and takes Kame’s hand strongly in his, meeting simultaneously the other boy’s curious and warm gold-eyes. He squeezes the fingers and breathes heavily and anxiously as he hesitantly starts slipping the watch to Kame’s wrist.
Kame’s a warmly running river of honey as Jin reaches out for him with his silvery mark. Jin bites his lips and looks in his eyes and knows that Kame knows and approves and that’s all he really needs.
“Wake me up in the morning,” he insists and taps the watch with his nail. Such a pretty little sound. He smiles hesitantly and lets the warm flood take over, entwining their fingers again, hoping not to be too obvious.
Kame’s chest fills and he yells at someone to throw them a few pillows from the couch. Jin closes his eyes, never quite knowing who answered to Kame’s quest, and lies down on the floor undisturbed as Kame places a small pillow under his head.
(Now, later, he wonders about chain-reactions and if one meaningless choice really ticked it all off the wrong way.
It’s just that it was so, so very beautiful back then.)
--
Jin pulls Kame back down on the bed and rolls on him gently and bitterly. He kisses the other man’s chin and neck in an attempt to awaken him from the scary state that feels psychotic. Kame’s always quiet but Jin can swear he hears a deafening thunder raging; a thunder wrapped gently right inside his thin layer of a skin.
(Thunders make him feel lonely and all alone.
He feels like he’s hugging a mere doll as Kame lays still.)
“Kame.”
Maybe it’s just a hoarse mumble in the middle of the past-midnight shadows but Jin hopes Kame can hear him. He kisses the slender neck again wetly. He tries to grasp a fragile grip of Kame by tasting, sensing him.
He swears his hair tickles Kame’s face as he hovers above him and kisses him on the lips, a hand sneaking fingers amidst his soft strands of hair. He can feel Kame’s breathing on his face and his eyes slowly adjust in the dark, but Kame isn’t looking at him. It just doesn’t feel like he’s really seeing.
He remembers the days when he wondered if Kame was even awake - if it was just some sort of sleep-walking. Now he just can’t anymore, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s him that’s the crazy one, if it’s him who places the blame on Kame. If it’s him who does everything to blackmail Kame in his mind to get back at him in order to really hate him. Just because it’s easier that way.
He taps his fingers gently on the corners of Kame’s eyes and huffs, sensing the loneliness. The strange and disoriented sound of god-knows-how-many clocks within the walls of Kame’s apartment doesn’t help him. It leaves him with something between a vibration and a chill, a tick-tick-tock-tock-tick-tock-tick-tick-tock-tick mass that messes up with him.
Maybe he just focuses on Kame to avoid the petrifying fear of everything else in the room.
(He really doesn’t know who’s the one awake in the room anymore.)
He keeps touching, kissing and wrapping himself against Kame in order to avoid hyperventilating.
--
“Eat,” a teen Jin begs with an onigiri in his hand as he tries to tempt his friend. He bites his lip and Kame avoids looking at him. Most frustratingly over all, Kame stays silent. He doesn’t even say no. No laughter, nothing. Jin swears he can see shredded paper in Kame’s eyes.
“Come on,” he tries and places a hand gently on the nape of Kame’s neck and tries to pull him closer, one hand pushing the onigiri closer. Kame exhales through his nose and Jin is glad Kame isn’t able to turn his eyeballs around so that only the whites are visible, because otherwise he could’ve sworn that would’ve been exactly the freakishly scary-looking creature he would’ve been trying to feed.
Kame doesn’t even flinch. Nothing.
“For god’s sake,” Jin whispers with a hoarse and bitter voice. He blinks tears from his eyes and feels sickened by the gut-wrenching feeling. He isn’t going to cry. He isn’t going to do that to Kame.
He tries to smash the onigiri in his friend’s mouth through his clenched teeth and makes a mess, rice sticking to his hand and Kame’s chin. Kame keeps his jaw firm and exhales through his nose again, form reluctant to move. Jin feels weights on the corners of his mouth.
“Just eat,” he begs and tries to scrape the rice back to a bundle and smash it through Kame’s teeth. Only when he slips his fingers in to push the food in through the teeth-free corners of Kame’s mouth does he flinch and turn his face away, hands rising to guide Jin’s hands away. They aren’t even shaking. Jin knows his are and it’s too unfair.
(If there is something he fears in the world, that’d be the overwhelming feeling of uselessness.)
He places a hand on his mouth, still blinking tears away and shakes his head, trembling slightly. Truth be told, he’s scared. Scared shitless of the future, of Kame’s bone-y frame and tainted eyes.
It doesn’t even feel like he’s there anymore. Hasn’t felt for quite a while.
“I don’t understand,” he gulps, trying to keep his voice firm and steady yet failing. He’s always been too emotional when it comes to his friends. When it’s about someone who matters.
Kame doesn’t look at him but at the wooden table before them with a dead look in his eyes. It feels like he’s trying to kill himself on the inside to avoid the consequences of his being on the outside. Jin’s afraid he’ll succeed.
“Talk to me. Just this once, I beg of you,” Jin tries and bows deep, finding Kame’s hands and wrapping them in his own. He isn’t able to stop the swallowing, stop shakily massaging Kame’s hands with his sticky fingers. He isn’t able to stop trying to reach for Kame.
He’s afraid no one else does.
Kame looks away and slowly pulls his hands away, caressing his silver watch hanging loosely on his thinned wrist. Jin bows deeper and shakes, closing his eyes.
He’s afraid of his own consequences.
“I’m too disgusting,” Kame answers finally with a quiet mumble. He keeps blinking his eyes rapidly to control the threatening tearing but doesn’t quite manage as a salty pearl of water runs down his paled cheek. “Just forget about it, Jin. Let it be.”
“You’re not disgusting,” Jin insists argumentatively, draws in a shuddering breath and takes a hold of Kame’s hand again. He just isn’t able to get closer but he can’t let go either. “You’re Kame. You’re amazing. I don’t see that. The disgusting part. I can’t see it. Where the hell do you find it?”
Tears keep falling from Kame’s eyes and he keeps wiping them away with his free palm. His lashes are short and wet and eyes somehow raw and red. It’s a painful sight.
(They’re both far out of control.)
“I don’t want to lose you,” Kame says and breaks down with an amazingly fast speed, eyes wide and scared and form shaking and rocking. He’s out of his mind. “I’m going to lose you. But I’m never going to have you either. God, I’m so disgusting. And now you’ll leave me.”
He breaks into tears as well and pulls Kame in his arms as the boy breaks down completely and cries loudly against his shoulder. He feels like a stupid art piece with too thin limbs and too fragile and disturbed features to support the crazed anxiety. He’s not humane.
Jin feels like a human beside him, though.
“I’m in love with you,” Kame sobs crazily, a scary and unhappy chain of giggles emerging from his form. “I’m in love with you and all you can think about is thin, pretty and curvy girls and I’m just so disgusting.”
He’s the ugliest sight he has yet come to see, Jin realises as he hyperventilates when hugging Kame crazily. He isn't even able to kiss him. To tell him he’s not quite so disgusting after all, or maybe just that there’s two of them, two of the disgusting type and he couldn’t really care less. He's too fucking busy hyperventilating and Kame’s too busy letting his heart be violently mutilated before it reaches its end.
(Clocks tick by so slowly, dragging time along as they stay put.)
Only fifteen minutes later does Jin manage to kiss Kame.
His most cherished friend is still the nastiest little thing in the world.
--
“Kame,” Jin tries again and giggles madly against Kame’s throat. “It’s okay, Kame. Stop being like that, you m-make me feel like I make you unhappy,” he pleads, lifts Kame’s hands and places them in his hair. “I don’t want to make you unhappy.”
He closes his eyes and tries to calm himself down, fight the fear at the back of his skull. He pulls the bedcovers over them and lifts Kame’s shirt. He kisses Kame’s navel gently and tentatively, trying to lure him out of that psycho-state of his.
“Feel, Kame,” he tries with a shaky voice. “I’m here. I’m right here, don’t hate me. Don’t hurt yourself because of me. Please feel.”
He wraps his arms around Kame’s lower back and hugs him shakily. There’s an earthquake outside, every sensory in his body screams about it.
A hand tiredly arises from the mattress and finds his head, combing his tangled hair weakly.
“Not now, Jin,” Kame whispers through numb lips. Husky. He shifts uncomfortably and rolls on his side, face being buried in his pillow. Jin shakes against him, hugging tighter.
“Why not now?” he asks, pitch high and voice trembling even if the earthquake is ceasing. Kame’s too calm for that. “We’re awake. Why not now?”
Tock-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tick-tick-tick-tock.
(Sometimes it still feels like they’re two lost teenagers sitting side by side at a corner in a party.
He wonders if they ever change.)
“Go to sleep, Jin,” Kame mutters. Jin wonders why it feels so threateningly much like a rejection in general.
--
Two young adults look at each other eye to eye maybe for the last time. Jin can see raw rage and hurt in Kame’s harbour-eyes. He feels like his ship is about to sink for the rest of eternity.
“You choosing work is new,” Kame’s voice claws at him and he feels like he’s choking in his own blood. Kame holds too many strong emotions that get overwhelming for him. And this rage, he knows, he has deserved.
There’s no backing off from his decision anymore. And he didn’t do it only for himself.
“Just say what you want to say,” Jin snorts coldly as he folds his favourite clothes in his suitcase, wondering how cold it can get in Los Angeles. He hears Kame snort and can perfectly well mentally see him scowl and turn his face away, eyebrows knitted together.
(It’s going to be over soon and all he can fucking hear is the lonely clock ticking over his bedpost.)
“What should I say?” Kame fights to keep his voice calm but doesn’t manage to keep the toxic hiss away. “I think you made it pretty clear to me. I thought we were more than this. I guess I was wrong.”
“Keep making yourself the victim here,” Jin rolls his eyes and slams three pairs of jeans in his suitcase. “I think it was a simple choice. It’s not like we can do anything we want ever again if we choose each other, get fired, and declared gay for every fucking Japanese and god-knows-what-nationality-having people out there. We’ll never do anything. We’re too young to throw everything away just yet so shut the fuck up. I’m doing a favour for you.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jin,” Kame laughs. It has a bitter and unbelieving tone to it. “We’re over now, you understand that? And can you even see what a fool you made me look like? I chose you. Without hesitation I chose you and you just sat there. Do you have any idea what a fool you made me feel like?”
“It wasn’t an easy choice!” Jin finally snaps and throws his comb in his suitcase. “What do you think, that I never cared about you?! Oh come on!”
“I’m the workaholic one!” Kame roars back. “And I chose you! Do you have any idea how fucking ridiculous and used I feel?!”
“Well, not everything is about you,” Jin spits back, lips trembling and teeth visible, showing disgust. Kame’s eyes narrow and he takes a deep breath.
The following bitter chuckle feels like it's going to be the last one he’ll ever hear from Kame.
“Have fun on your language trip,” Kame shrugs. “Or whatever.”
Jin snorts and shakes his head as he continues packing.
Kame stays still and quiet for a minute. The breaking tone of his heartbeat dancing with the rhythm of the clock grows maddening and gets Jin’s hands shaking. It could be seen as an act of hatred and disgust too.
Kame finally leaves and walks away.
Suddenly it's like all life has been drained from him.
(He takes the clock from his wall to remember the sound of Kame’s heartbreak and to control the furious voice in his head.)
--
“I can’t sleep,” Jin whispers against Kame’s chest, eyes closed. Kame sighs tiredly and, with his eyelids still shut, wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer. Jin feels a dry pair of lips gently touching his forehead and closes his eyes.
“Just try, will you?” Kame yawns and frowns. He licks his lips and starts rubbing Jin’s stiff shoulder blades. Jin keeps swallowing, anxious for disturbing the younger man’s sleep. Kame can be such an idiot for bothering with him.
“Kame?” Jin asks quietly and hears an approving mumble, probably Kame’s way of telling he’s listening. Jin follows the soft flutter of hair as he breathes. “Can you wake up for me?”
Kame groans disapprovingly but opens his eyes again, thin lines somewhere in the darkness. Jin’s chest feels tight and he feels sickened - not by Kame but himself.
The transformation between the Kame he hates and the Kame he isn’t able to hate no matter what plays with his buttons. He can’t turn the switch quite as quickly, it just isn’t possible.
(He’s so afraid of drowning them both in the negativity.)
“What is it, Jin?” Kame tries to question him. “Are you alright?”
“…Yeah. Just fine. Just sleep,” Jin eventually answers after a small silence, shifting around so that he can press his back against Kame’s chest. Kame wraps his arms around him and he knows Kame loves him. More than anything.
It’s been proved too much already.
(Aren’t they too worn to still keep hating already?)
He feels burned out, dark dust ready to fly away with the wind.
Kame kisses the back of his head and Jin closes his eyes, calming down slowly. Because now Kame’s there, Kame’s right there beside him and there’s no one else around to disturb. Not tonight.
“You sleep first and I’ll follow then,” Kame offers gently, pressing another short kiss on his shoulder. “Good night, Jin.”
“Good night,” he whispers and feels guilty and undeserving.
--
Jin pulls his wheeled suitcase with him and hides behind his sunglasses nervously as he walks towards the main hall from the baggage claim spot. Everything feels fragile and new and the Japanese air tastes thickly different.
He walks through the doors and tries to eye the room to find someone. It’s not really him who finally finds the person - it’s him who suddenly laughs so brightly, looks so relieved and jumps to hug him, attracting his attention.
“Welcome home,” Kame gasps and removes himself from Jin, looking nervously around from behind his sunglasses. “Let’s go.”
“Hi to you too,” Jin croaks, heart beating rapidly in his chest. And it all feels just so renewed and too good to be true. It’s amazing. Overwhelmingly so.
He doesn’t feel like he can ever let go again.
(All the pathetic attempts haunt him.
Most of all the letter-less envelope containing a silver watch he received.)
They sit in the car and fidget around nervously. Jin is scared Kame’s too nervous to drive. He himself is at least.
“I love you so fucking much,” he can’t contain his words anymore and Kame tries his best to suppress the amazing smile he has, the brightest one only reserved for him. “I just love you so fucking much.”
“Don’t make me want to kiss you, this situation is bad enough if the tabloids find out already,” Kame mutters quickly, starting the car with shaky hands. “We can get fired, Jin. We’re really, seriously going to get fired like this.”
“Then no one can know,” Jin croaks. “Anything. Anything if I can just have you. Anything.”
Kame looks like the gentlest human being the earth can possibly carry just then.
“I missed you too,” he whispers.
(And, finally, it really does feel a bit like home.)
--
Jin wakes up feeling comfy and warm against the familiar chest. The alarm clock on Kame’s night table tells him they still have about half an hour of sleep and he wonders how much he finally slept anyway. He doesn’t really know.
He carefully turns around not to wake Kame only to find him looking at him, wide-awake already. Jin’s heart starts beating rapidly as he studies the man, mind still a bit hazy from the sleep he isn’t able to recall anymore.
“Morning,” Kame mumbles and kisses him on the lips. Jin feels his eyes fluttering shut and smiles, hand searching for another under the thick duvet. Kame laughs a bit. “Idiot,” he accuses. Jin only sucks his lips gently before kissing Kame’s.
“You need to shave,” Jin mumbles as he runs his fingers gently on Kame’s chin. “You feel rough.”
“Says the man who insisted on growing a moustache at some point,” Kame snorts accusingly. “It was hideous.”
Jin purses his lips and rolls on Kame, sitting on him firmly as he tries to shake the remaining sleepiness from his eyes. Kame’s beautiful in the morning. All relatively pale marble skin and disarranged troll hair.
(He wishes they could always be just simply like this.)
Kame pulls him closer and places a tempting kiss on his neck. He gets the hint. They have thirty minutes before the alarm after all. Well enough for a quickie.
He shudders as Kame’s mouth presses and sucks on his pulse.
(He wishes their teeth will forever remain broken.)