[01/01] It's Not Over Yet
title: It’s Not Over Yet
pairing: akame
rating: pg-13
summary: the thing is, jin will never abandon kame.
author’s note: a remix of Fall by pithetaphish. thanks to shexay_yasuda for betaing. please be sure to read the original i am very fond of her writing and cannot give her voice justice. also, a drabble of mine got remixed by tokyostory, and it's really amazing how someone interprets your own writing, and it's really. wow. okay, anyway, her remix can be found here.
word count: 03210
September, 2007
A lot of bad feelings dissipated during Jin’s six month trip to Los Angeles. The agency trimmed back tangled, gnarled branches and was rewarded with fuller growth.
Many of the problems stemmed from Akakame, from the strained relationship between KAT-TUN’s two most popular members. There had been attempts at amends by Kame, but a feeling of betrayal sat in the pit of Jin’s stomach and resulted in a bad taste lingering in everyone else’s mouth.
Caustic statements. The staff saw them arguing, eyes narrowed, words hushed but angry. They shook their heads. “Those two divas are at it again?”
Maru remembers Kame slowly giving up. Their compromise was silence. In front of the media, in front of the fans, they were professional. Behind the scenes, the uncomfortable quiet took a toll on everyone.
Maru’s not gonna lie. He was relieved when he found out about Jin’s intended leave. First, it would be good for him. Jin had a habit of neglecting his condition. Second, it would be good for the relationship between him and Kame. Forgive and forget.
“Don’t worry about it,” Maru overheard Kame saying quietly. It was right after Jin told them that he was leaving. Kame used a tone he rarely used anymore, a tone he reserved for Jin. “We’ll work as six, pick up your slack.” He laughed uneasily.
“I would be so angry at me,” Jin said. “You aren’t angry at me?”
A pause. “I’m not you.”
Another pause. Then, carefully, “You’re not me,” Jin agreed. A shaky exhalation. Despairingly, “Please don’t abandon me.”
Maru decides, as he waits for Jin to retrieve Kame’s house key, the fact that Kame didn’t abandon Jin while he was in LA is the reason that now everything is, at least, somewhat okay.
---
It had been hard for Jin to accept it. He is the type who moves on, the type who finds a grudge difficult to hold. But with Kame, everything is different. Kame makes Jin’s logic seem fuzzy and vague. Seeing him and working with him every day hadn’t particularly helped the matter.
There was a period of time when Jin could barely look Kame in the eye, a period of time when Jin was unable to think of the other without a flare of anger (and something else that he hated admitting to). The funny thing is despite all of that, Jin would do anything for Kame.
If Kame were to ask him to walk on water, he’d try his damned hardest to do it.
Jin stares at the front door of Kame’s apartment, convenience store bag in one hand, key in the other. An old lady leaves the residence next door. She is little, fragile and stooping. Jin stops staring at the door in favor of staring at her. He thinks that it must be well past her bedtime. He wonders where she’s going and why.
She shuffles to Jin’s side. “Are you here to see Kazuya?” she asks and looks up at him.
Jin nods, a little startled. Her eyes are smart and piercing. They unnerve him.
“I rarely see friends stop by,” she says. “I rarely see him,” she continues. “And mostly, I see women leaving in the morning.”
Jin feels a pang in his chest, but he wills it away with practiced ease and pretends it was never there. “He’s busy. He works a lot.” An understatement. Kame lives for work.
“It’s good that he has friends. Friends are support. They’re forever, you know?”
She smiles, and her eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Are you going to see a friend?” Jin asks.
“A friend, yes.” She pauses. “An old lover actually, but a friend now.”
Jin laughs. “Don’t have too much fun.” He smiles back down at her.
“You’re a good boy,” she says, her words direct and unexpected. “You have a nice smile, a soft face. You’re dedicated, I can tell.” She pauses and then says softly, “Maybe we’re the same.”
Jin falters a little. She sees it and her eyes flicker with something that Jin recognizes but can’t quite put his finger on.
“Ah, we are, aren’t we?” Her eyes look old, and she smiles wearily. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Jin watches her shuffle toward the elevators. He stares back at the door, bubbles with apprehension. Suddenly, he feels inadequate, like he isn’t ready to be a friend because he’s stuck in the past. But, he wishes his wants away, calms his mind and sends those far-fetched scenarios and silly half-expectations back to the shadows.
He shifts his body and his bag digs into his shoulder blade. He unlocks the door with a click, enters and closes it softly behind him as he steps inside the foyer. When he flicks on the light switch, the hallway is illuminated in a pale yellow light.
A headache comes on. Jin wonders if Kame still keeps aspirin in the cabinet in the kitchen, the one that holds his hand towels and prescriptions.
---
By the time he settles onto the couch, his shoes are in the entrance and his bag slumps against the wall in the hallway. The futon is laid out, the conbini bento he bought for Kame is on the kitchen counter, and he’s feeling a bit dizzy. It’s midnight and he wonders what time Kame usually gets home from DreamBoys.
It’s because of DreamBoys and Kame’s stubbornness that Jin is even in the other’s apartment-a fall from six meters up and an insistence that he keep performing. From what Maru slurred as he handed the keys to Jin, (leaning on an equally drunk and very unhelpful Ueda), that had been in the morning show. Kame had performed the afternoon show, too.
Jin clicks his tongue. “Workaholic Kamenashi.” He would bet money on Kame being pissed at seeing him sitting in the apartment. He thinks he’ll need a smoke to deal with that.
He wonders if Kame would let him smoke. He could smoke out a window. They both used to do that, smoke out the bedroom window, because Kame hated his apartment to smell like cigarettes.
Jin’s fingers itch and he still feels dizzy. He stands, slowly, makes his way over to his bag before-ah. He remembers.
The kit is at home, balancing precariously on the edge of the kitchen counter probably. Forgotten.
He sort of wishes that Kame never returned the extra one that he used to keep beneath the bathroom sink.
He pulls his iPod out of his bag, turns it on and moves his lips to lyrics that he only vaguely understands. He dances to the rhythm and back to the couch, falls onto his back and shuts his eyes, legs crossed at the ankles.
He loses himself to the music and time, and suddenly, there’s a heavy, unexpected weight on his stomach. His eyes open wide. “Fuc-”
His expletive is cut off by his own choked gasp, and he throws the offending object to the floor. “What was that for?!” The music still plays loudly in his ears, bass only augmenting the pounding heartbeat in his chest.
He sees Kame lean against the couch, mouth moving fast. Jin hits ‘pause’. “-king and entering. Who called you?”
The initial adrenaline begins to wear off and Jin blinks slowly. “Maru. He gave me the key, and before you start throwing daggers-” Kame’s eyes narrow further. “-the only reason he called me was because he couldn’t come himself.”
“Why?” Kame asks. He looks bad, tired, exhausted. Jin frowns.
“Why do you think? Tomorrow's his day off. He and Tacchan were barely upright when I found them.”
Jin pulls the ear buds out of his ears, stands up. “Here. Before you pass out, I got you something to eat.” He approaches Kame, wants to push the other’s hair out of his face to get a look at his eyes, but he stops himself. Instead, he moves one hand to Kame’s shoulder, the other to his waist. Kame tightens under his touch, but Jin doesn’t let go.
“Jin-”
“It’s only the conbini stuff,” Jin says, voice soft, hushed tones to calm the other down. He talks about the food he brought, about how the little old lady next door worries about Kame more than she should (and maybe Kame can spend some time with her or something, because she seems really nice).
He’s forced to stop talking when Kame trips. Jin catches him surprisingly easy, arms wrapped around his waist. “Careful,” he says, sympathy there, but not enough to keep him from attempting a joke, “You want a cracked skull to go with that hip replacement?”
Jin’s very aware of Kame’s weight pressed to his front, of how tightly he holds Kame, (like he’s afraid Kame will collapse to the ground if he even thinks about letting go). Jin’s very aware that the only thing separating his fingers from Kame’s warm skin is a thin, worn button-down shirt, and Jin’s very aware of Kame pressing back against him for support, but tensing his muscles in confused, weary resistance at the same time.
Jin tries to think of katsudon, and he shifts so that Kame presses against his side. The trip to the kitchen is a long one. He eases Kame down into a chair, mumbles, “Here,” and is grateful to finally be rid of Kame’s body heat.
Really, neither of them would be in this position (Jin’s thoughts in places they shouldn’t be, Kame’s body aching like it’s four times its actual age) if Kame had just taken it easy earlier.
Jin takes the plastic bowl of food from the bag, puts it in the microwave and presses a few buttons before laying a pair of chopsticks in front of Kame. He moves back across the kitchen and drums his fingers on the countertop as he watches the katsudon reheat.
“Do you have those painkillers I sent you?” he asks, suddenly remembering.
“’m not hungry,” Kame murmurs.
Jin continues watching the microwave. “I know you don’t want to eat, but like, you know, the painkillers will keep you from hurting. And you need to take them with food and they definitely put you to sleep. And you were cranky when you came home so I bet you haven’t even eaten all day. And-”
He cuts himself off when he looks back over at Kame. “Kame?” he asks, moves toward him.
The other’s head is on the table, his eyes shut.
“Kame?” Jin asks again, and gently pulls him back upright. The position couldn’t possibly be a comfortable one, which is a testament to just how tired Kame must be. Jin wants to hold him, let him feed on his warmth.
“’m not hungry,” Kame repeats.
Kame definitely hadn’t heard a word of Jin’s little lecture. “Yeah, you are,” Jin says, and smiles. “And if you don’t eat now, then you’ll be up all night. Then you’ll be a hag in the morning and I’m not dealing with that ever again.”
Why? Because-
The microwave beeps again and he moves from Kame’s side for a moment, takes the food out and places it in front of Kame.
Jin watches as the other pulls off the plastic lid and breaks the chopsticks. “Itadakimasu,” he murmurs, softly, eyes still drooping, and Jin laughs louder than he means to when Kame digs into the food like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“Not hungry at all,” he comments when Kame brings the bowl closer to his face.
He remembers the painkillers then, begins to open and close cabinet doors. The prescriptions are always next to the hand towels. And the hand towels were always above the sink.
He holds two of them and stands in front of Kame with a glass of water. “Here,” he says.
“Thanks,” Kame replies, softly, and takes the tablets appreciatively. He pops them in his mouth, douses them with a gulp of water before looking back up at Jin with a little smile on his face. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Jin says softly. I’m here because you’re useless.” He laughs a little, and Kame doesn’t reply, is already eating again. The apartment is very quiet and Jin doesn’t have anything to do besides watch the other eat, and so he sits in the chair across from him.
Jin knows that it’s Kame’s favorite comfort food, katsudon. When he was too tired to cook and they hadn’t eaten yet, he would send Jin to a conbini down the street (because he certainly didn’t trust Jin to cook anything), and Jin would always get katsudon for Kame, a can of mango juice and whatever caught his eye for himself.
Kame puts down his chopsticks, moves to stand. Jin panics, grabs him by the wrist. Kame looks at him with his eyes wide, more awake than Jin’s seen them all night.
Food works wonders, really.
“I’m just getting a drink, Akanishi.” Kame gently tugs his arm from Jin’s loosened grip.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jin says. Kame nods and watches him. “More water, right?” Jin stands, too fast and unsteadily. He has to hold edge of the table for support. Kame frowns up at him.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
---
He’s looking through the refrigerator when Kame finishes eating. He should have looked before, when he knew he didn’t have his kit. “Do you have any juice or anything?” Jin asks, his search futile.
Kame doesn’t say anything for a few moments.
Jin turns to look over at him to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep again. “Kame? Juice?” he asks, patiently.
Kame swallows. “Yeah, um.” He pauses and frowns. Jin fills in the blank unconsciously. It’s hard to remember. It’s been a long time since I needed it around. “In the pantry-on the floor, I think.”
Jin gives a jerk of a nod in acknowledgement, tries to suppress the little sigh that threatens to escape his lips. He shuts the refrigerator door, kneels down and starts rummaging through those cabinets. “Grapefruit juice?” Of course. He laughs. It’s definitely been a long time since Kame’s needed juice around. And with DreamBoys and boxing and trying to be healthy, he doesn’t even bother to ask Kame if he’s got something better like chocolate. “Trust you to pick the sourest thing on the shelf.”
He takes a few quick swigs before depositing the plastic bottle in the fridge. His nose wrinkles at the bitter taste. He never really was a fan of grapefruit. He vaguely remembers a time when Kame insisted on eating those things for breakfast. They were good for him, started up his metabolism or something. He told Jin that if he ate them with sugar, he’d find them very good and definitely edible.
A blatant lie because Jin remembers holding the first bite down with a grimace, brown sugar and all. Since then, he hasn’t touched the stuff.
He catches Kame watching him after he snaps back from his thoughts. “How badly does it hurt?” he asks. The meds should be kicking in about now, he thinks. The combination of the drugs and food are going to make Kame sleepy, and he wants to get him to bed before he’s completely dead weight.
But if the pain is still too much, he knows there are cold packs in the freezer. His hand is already on the handle when Kame says, “I’ll be fine.” And then, “What about you?”
“Just a bit dizzy,” Jin replies. It’s getting better. He hesitates, “I’ll check before we go to bed-” And he cuts himself off, cheeks reddening at the lie more than the implications. He just doesn’t want Kame to worry about him, about the fact that his kit is in the kitchen of his own apartment. Kame would probably get angry.
“Jin?”
He snaps back to attention. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for the painkillers, I said.”
Jin feels his lips curving into a fond smile. “How’re you feeling?”
“Lovely,” Kame says. “Wonderful. The painkillers.” He waves a hand. “They’re doing their thing.” He laughs.
“I’ll help you to the futon,” Jin murmurs, is by Kame’s side in moments. He wraps an arm around Kame’s waist, sucks in a breath at the welcome warmth and tries to hide any traces of anxiety. It’s difficult because one of Kame’s arms encircles his shoulders and Kame’s cheek presses hard against his shoulder.
“I feel good. Le-thar-gic.” Kame sharpens the syllables and giggles. “Sorry.”
“Anyone else and they’d think you were a drunk,” Jin says. He misses a care-free Kame-one that isn’t drug-induced. “Careful!” Kame nearly trips over his own feet again. “And they said I got fat, what have you been eating? Stones?”
Kame giggles again.
“Bloody hell.” Jin sighs. Kame is completely and totally gone.
“It’s the pills,” Kame gasps, and presses his cheek further into Jin’s shoulder.
Of course it’s the pills. It couldn’t be anything more.
“You just don’t want to admit you’ve been hitting the bar alone,” Jin teases aloud, pushes his internal monologue away. Kame trips again and Jin clicks his tongue. “And you come stumbling home the same way. I swear you couldn’t score a game of darts without me.” He grins.
“I don’t count points,” Kame says, words loud and slurred. “’m too busy winning them.” He giggles again and Jin can’t help but laugh.
“How could I forget?” he asks, words coming out faster than his brain can process.
How could he forget? He’s been trying forever.
---
Kame’s words are less lucid, more tired. His eyes threaten to close and stay that way.
“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?” Jin asks, pulls the blankets up to Kame’s chin.
“’ll make breakfast-” Kame breathes, shuts his eyes.
“Okay,” Jin whispers, laughs and leans in close. “Okay,” he says, and moves one of his hands to smooth Kame’s hair, to turn Kame’s head so that he can press his lips to his temple.
He pulls back a little before he leans in again, heart pounding in his ears. Another quick press of the lips before he finally pulls all the way back. This. He can’t escape this. Kame. He’s tried hard, and every time he thinks he’s free, every time he thinks he’s in the clear, something happens, he’s back to square one, and-
It’s too much.
“Good night, Kamenashi,” Jin says, softly, and the only response is Kame’s soft breathing. Distance. He needs distance. He should clean up the kitchen and go home. Kame won’t remember any of this in the morning, right?
Jin watches Kame for a while, just sits at the edge of the futon and watches him. His heart swells and his head hurts. He mulls things over, everything, what they are and what they were. What he wants and how he feels. It’s difficult, so difficult (and he can hear Kame breathing deeply, gently).
They are friends, assuredly, nothing more. Kame made that clear enough before. But sometimes, Jin feels something in his chest, something fierce. Sometimes he thinks he catches Kame’s eye and they exchange a flicker of something, something that isn’t supposed to be there, something that the other said was dead, but can’t possibly be.
2008.02 → 2008.03.18
pairing: akame
rating: pg-13
summary: the thing is, jin will never abandon kame.
author’s note: a remix of Fall by pithetaphish. thanks to shexay_yasuda for betaing. please be sure to read the original i am very fond of her writing and cannot give her voice justice. also, a drabble of mine got remixed by tokyostory, and it's really amazing how someone interprets your own writing, and it's really. wow. okay, anyway, her remix can be found here.
word count: 03210
September, 2007
A lot of bad feelings dissipated during Jin’s six month trip to Los Angeles. The agency trimmed back tangled, gnarled branches and was rewarded with fuller growth.
Many of the problems stemmed from Akakame, from the strained relationship between KAT-TUN’s two most popular members. There had been attempts at amends by Kame, but a feeling of betrayal sat in the pit of Jin’s stomach and resulted in a bad taste lingering in everyone else’s mouth.
Caustic statements. The staff saw them arguing, eyes narrowed, words hushed but angry. They shook their heads. “Those two divas are at it again?”
Maru remembers Kame slowly giving up. Their compromise was silence. In front of the media, in front of the fans, they were professional. Behind the scenes, the uncomfortable quiet took a toll on everyone.
Maru’s not gonna lie. He was relieved when he found out about Jin’s intended leave. First, it would be good for him. Jin had a habit of neglecting his condition. Second, it would be good for the relationship between him and Kame. Forgive and forget.
“Don’t worry about it,” Maru overheard Kame saying quietly. It was right after Jin told them that he was leaving. Kame used a tone he rarely used anymore, a tone he reserved for Jin. “We’ll work as six, pick up your slack.” He laughed uneasily.
“I would be so angry at me,” Jin said. “You aren’t angry at me?”
A pause. “I’m not you.”
Another pause. Then, carefully, “You’re not me,” Jin agreed. A shaky exhalation. Despairingly, “Please don’t abandon me.”
Maru decides, as he waits for Jin to retrieve Kame’s house key, the fact that Kame didn’t abandon Jin while he was in LA is the reason that now everything is, at least, somewhat okay.
---
It had been hard for Jin to accept it. He is the type who moves on, the type who finds a grudge difficult to hold. But with Kame, everything is different. Kame makes Jin’s logic seem fuzzy and vague. Seeing him and working with him every day hadn’t particularly helped the matter.
There was a period of time when Jin could barely look Kame in the eye, a period of time when Jin was unable to think of the other without a flare of anger (and something else that he hated admitting to). The funny thing is despite all of that, Jin would do anything for Kame.
If Kame were to ask him to walk on water, he’d try his damned hardest to do it.
Jin stares at the front door of Kame’s apartment, convenience store bag in one hand, key in the other. An old lady leaves the residence next door. She is little, fragile and stooping. Jin stops staring at the door in favor of staring at her. He thinks that it must be well past her bedtime. He wonders where she’s going and why.
She shuffles to Jin’s side. “Are you here to see Kazuya?” she asks and looks up at him.
Jin nods, a little startled. Her eyes are smart and piercing. They unnerve him.
“I rarely see friends stop by,” she says. “I rarely see him,” she continues. “And mostly, I see women leaving in the morning.”
Jin feels a pang in his chest, but he wills it away with practiced ease and pretends it was never there. “He’s busy. He works a lot.” An understatement. Kame lives for work.
“It’s good that he has friends. Friends are support. They’re forever, you know?”
She smiles, and her eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Are you going to see a friend?” Jin asks.
“A friend, yes.” She pauses. “An old lover actually, but a friend now.”
Jin laughs. “Don’t have too much fun.” He smiles back down at her.
“You’re a good boy,” she says, her words direct and unexpected. “You have a nice smile, a soft face. You’re dedicated, I can tell.” She pauses and then says softly, “Maybe we’re the same.”
Jin falters a little. She sees it and her eyes flicker with something that Jin recognizes but can’t quite put his finger on.
“Ah, we are, aren’t we?” Her eyes look old, and she smiles wearily. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Jin watches her shuffle toward the elevators. He stares back at the door, bubbles with apprehension. Suddenly, he feels inadequate, like he isn’t ready to be a friend because he’s stuck in the past. But, he wishes his wants away, calms his mind and sends those far-fetched scenarios and silly half-expectations back to the shadows.
He shifts his body and his bag digs into his shoulder blade. He unlocks the door with a click, enters and closes it softly behind him as he steps inside the foyer. When he flicks on the light switch, the hallway is illuminated in a pale yellow light.
A headache comes on. Jin wonders if Kame still keeps aspirin in the cabinet in the kitchen, the one that holds his hand towels and prescriptions.
---
By the time he settles onto the couch, his shoes are in the entrance and his bag slumps against the wall in the hallway. The futon is laid out, the conbini bento he bought for Kame is on the kitchen counter, and he’s feeling a bit dizzy. It’s midnight and he wonders what time Kame usually gets home from DreamBoys.
It’s because of DreamBoys and Kame’s stubbornness that Jin is even in the other’s apartment-a fall from six meters up and an insistence that he keep performing. From what Maru slurred as he handed the keys to Jin, (leaning on an equally drunk and very unhelpful Ueda), that had been in the morning show. Kame had performed the afternoon show, too.
Jin clicks his tongue. “Workaholic Kamenashi.” He would bet money on Kame being pissed at seeing him sitting in the apartment. He thinks he’ll need a smoke to deal with that.
He wonders if Kame would let him smoke. He could smoke out a window. They both used to do that, smoke out the bedroom window, because Kame hated his apartment to smell like cigarettes.
Jin’s fingers itch and he still feels dizzy. He stands, slowly, makes his way over to his bag before-ah. He remembers.
The kit is at home, balancing precariously on the edge of the kitchen counter probably. Forgotten.
He sort of wishes that Kame never returned the extra one that he used to keep beneath the bathroom sink.
He pulls his iPod out of his bag, turns it on and moves his lips to lyrics that he only vaguely understands. He dances to the rhythm and back to the couch, falls onto his back and shuts his eyes, legs crossed at the ankles.
He loses himself to the music and time, and suddenly, there’s a heavy, unexpected weight on his stomach. His eyes open wide. “Fuc-”
His expletive is cut off by his own choked gasp, and he throws the offending object to the floor. “What was that for?!” The music still plays loudly in his ears, bass only augmenting the pounding heartbeat in his chest.
He sees Kame lean against the couch, mouth moving fast. Jin hits ‘pause’. “-king and entering. Who called you?”
The initial adrenaline begins to wear off and Jin blinks slowly. “Maru. He gave me the key, and before you start throwing daggers-” Kame’s eyes narrow further. “-the only reason he called me was because he couldn’t come himself.”
“Why?” Kame asks. He looks bad, tired, exhausted. Jin frowns.
“Why do you think? Tomorrow's his day off. He and Tacchan were barely upright when I found them.”
Jin pulls the ear buds out of his ears, stands up. “Here. Before you pass out, I got you something to eat.” He approaches Kame, wants to push the other’s hair out of his face to get a look at his eyes, but he stops himself. Instead, he moves one hand to Kame’s shoulder, the other to his waist. Kame tightens under his touch, but Jin doesn’t let go.
“Jin-”
“It’s only the conbini stuff,” Jin says, voice soft, hushed tones to calm the other down. He talks about the food he brought, about how the little old lady next door worries about Kame more than she should (and maybe Kame can spend some time with her or something, because she seems really nice).
He’s forced to stop talking when Kame trips. Jin catches him surprisingly easy, arms wrapped around his waist. “Careful,” he says, sympathy there, but not enough to keep him from attempting a joke, “You want a cracked skull to go with that hip replacement?”
Jin’s very aware of Kame’s weight pressed to his front, of how tightly he holds Kame, (like he’s afraid Kame will collapse to the ground if he even thinks about letting go). Jin’s very aware that the only thing separating his fingers from Kame’s warm skin is a thin, worn button-down shirt, and Jin’s very aware of Kame pressing back against him for support, but tensing his muscles in confused, weary resistance at the same time.
Jin tries to think of katsudon, and he shifts so that Kame presses against his side. The trip to the kitchen is a long one. He eases Kame down into a chair, mumbles, “Here,” and is grateful to finally be rid of Kame’s body heat.
Really, neither of them would be in this position (Jin’s thoughts in places they shouldn’t be, Kame’s body aching like it’s four times its actual age) if Kame had just taken it easy earlier.
Jin takes the plastic bowl of food from the bag, puts it in the microwave and presses a few buttons before laying a pair of chopsticks in front of Kame. He moves back across the kitchen and drums his fingers on the countertop as he watches the katsudon reheat.
“Do you have those painkillers I sent you?” he asks, suddenly remembering.
“’m not hungry,” Kame murmurs.
Jin continues watching the microwave. “I know you don’t want to eat, but like, you know, the painkillers will keep you from hurting. And you need to take them with food and they definitely put you to sleep. And you were cranky when you came home so I bet you haven’t even eaten all day. And-”
He cuts himself off when he looks back over at Kame. “Kame?” he asks, moves toward him.
The other’s head is on the table, his eyes shut.
“Kame?” Jin asks again, and gently pulls him back upright. The position couldn’t possibly be a comfortable one, which is a testament to just how tired Kame must be. Jin wants to hold him, let him feed on his warmth.
“’m not hungry,” Kame repeats.
Kame definitely hadn’t heard a word of Jin’s little lecture. “Yeah, you are,” Jin says, and smiles. “And if you don’t eat now, then you’ll be up all night. Then you’ll be a hag in the morning and I’m not dealing with that ever again.”
Why? Because-
The microwave beeps again and he moves from Kame’s side for a moment, takes the food out and places it in front of Kame.
Jin watches as the other pulls off the plastic lid and breaks the chopsticks. “Itadakimasu,” he murmurs, softly, eyes still drooping, and Jin laughs louder than he means to when Kame digs into the food like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“Not hungry at all,” he comments when Kame brings the bowl closer to his face.
He remembers the painkillers then, begins to open and close cabinet doors. The prescriptions are always next to the hand towels. And the hand towels were always above the sink.
He holds two of them and stands in front of Kame with a glass of water. “Here,” he says.
“Thanks,” Kame replies, softly, and takes the tablets appreciatively. He pops them in his mouth, douses them with a gulp of water before looking back up at Jin with a little smile on his face. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Jin says softly. I’m here because you’re useless.” He laughs a little, and Kame doesn’t reply, is already eating again. The apartment is very quiet and Jin doesn’t have anything to do besides watch the other eat, and so he sits in the chair across from him.
Jin knows that it’s Kame’s favorite comfort food, katsudon. When he was too tired to cook and they hadn’t eaten yet, he would send Jin to a conbini down the street (because he certainly didn’t trust Jin to cook anything), and Jin would always get katsudon for Kame, a can of mango juice and whatever caught his eye for himself.
Kame puts down his chopsticks, moves to stand. Jin panics, grabs him by the wrist. Kame looks at him with his eyes wide, more awake than Jin’s seen them all night.
Food works wonders, really.
“I’m just getting a drink, Akanishi.” Kame gently tugs his arm from Jin’s loosened grip.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jin says. Kame nods and watches him. “More water, right?” Jin stands, too fast and unsteadily. He has to hold edge of the table for support. Kame frowns up at him.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
---
He’s looking through the refrigerator when Kame finishes eating. He should have looked before, when he knew he didn’t have his kit. “Do you have any juice or anything?” Jin asks, his search futile.
Kame doesn’t say anything for a few moments.
Jin turns to look over at him to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep again. “Kame? Juice?” he asks, patiently.
Kame swallows. “Yeah, um.” He pauses and frowns. Jin fills in the blank unconsciously. It’s hard to remember. It’s been a long time since I needed it around. “In the pantry-on the floor, I think.”
Jin gives a jerk of a nod in acknowledgement, tries to suppress the little sigh that threatens to escape his lips. He shuts the refrigerator door, kneels down and starts rummaging through those cabinets. “Grapefruit juice?” Of course. He laughs. It’s definitely been a long time since Kame’s needed juice around. And with DreamBoys and boxing and trying to be healthy, he doesn’t even bother to ask Kame if he’s got something better like chocolate. “Trust you to pick the sourest thing on the shelf.”
He takes a few quick swigs before depositing the plastic bottle in the fridge. His nose wrinkles at the bitter taste. He never really was a fan of grapefruit. He vaguely remembers a time when Kame insisted on eating those things for breakfast. They were good for him, started up his metabolism or something. He told Jin that if he ate them with sugar, he’d find them very good and definitely edible.
A blatant lie because Jin remembers holding the first bite down with a grimace, brown sugar and all. Since then, he hasn’t touched the stuff.
He catches Kame watching him after he snaps back from his thoughts. “How badly does it hurt?” he asks. The meds should be kicking in about now, he thinks. The combination of the drugs and food are going to make Kame sleepy, and he wants to get him to bed before he’s completely dead weight.
But if the pain is still too much, he knows there are cold packs in the freezer. His hand is already on the handle when Kame says, “I’ll be fine.” And then, “What about you?”
“Just a bit dizzy,” Jin replies. It’s getting better. He hesitates, “I’ll check before we go to bed-” And he cuts himself off, cheeks reddening at the lie more than the implications. He just doesn’t want Kame to worry about him, about the fact that his kit is in the kitchen of his own apartment. Kame would probably get angry.
“Jin?”
He snaps back to attention. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for the painkillers, I said.”
Jin feels his lips curving into a fond smile. “How’re you feeling?”
“Lovely,” Kame says. “Wonderful. The painkillers.” He waves a hand. “They’re doing their thing.” He laughs.
“I’ll help you to the futon,” Jin murmurs, is by Kame’s side in moments. He wraps an arm around Kame’s waist, sucks in a breath at the welcome warmth and tries to hide any traces of anxiety. It’s difficult because one of Kame’s arms encircles his shoulders and Kame’s cheek presses hard against his shoulder.
“I feel good. Le-thar-gic.” Kame sharpens the syllables and giggles. “Sorry.”
“Anyone else and they’d think you were a drunk,” Jin says. He misses a care-free Kame-one that isn’t drug-induced. “Careful!” Kame nearly trips over his own feet again. “And they said I got fat, what have you been eating? Stones?”
Kame giggles again.
“Bloody hell.” Jin sighs. Kame is completely and totally gone.
“It’s the pills,” Kame gasps, and presses his cheek further into Jin’s shoulder.
Of course it’s the pills. It couldn’t be anything more.
“You just don’t want to admit you’ve been hitting the bar alone,” Jin teases aloud, pushes his internal monologue away. Kame trips again and Jin clicks his tongue. “And you come stumbling home the same way. I swear you couldn’t score a game of darts without me.” He grins.
“I don’t count points,” Kame says, words loud and slurred. “’m too busy winning them.” He giggles again and Jin can’t help but laugh.
“How could I forget?” he asks, words coming out faster than his brain can process.
How could he forget? He’s been trying forever.
---
Kame’s words are less lucid, more tired. His eyes threaten to close and stay that way.
“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?” Jin asks, pulls the blankets up to Kame’s chin.
“’ll make breakfast-” Kame breathes, shuts his eyes.
“Okay,” Jin whispers, laughs and leans in close. “Okay,” he says, and moves one of his hands to smooth Kame’s hair, to turn Kame’s head so that he can press his lips to his temple.
He pulls back a little before he leans in again, heart pounding in his ears. Another quick press of the lips before he finally pulls all the way back. This. He can’t escape this. Kame. He’s tried hard, and every time he thinks he’s free, every time he thinks he’s in the clear, something happens, he’s back to square one, and-
It’s too much.
“Good night, Kamenashi,” Jin says, softly, and the only response is Kame’s soft breathing. Distance. He needs distance. He should clean up the kitchen and go home. Kame won’t remember any of this in the morning, right?
Jin watches Kame for a while, just sits at the edge of the futon and watches him. His heart swells and his head hurts. He mulls things over, everything, what they are and what they were. What he wants and how he feels. It’s difficult, so difficult (and he can hear Kame breathing deeply, gently).
They are friends, assuredly, nothing more. Kame made that clear enough before. But sometimes, Jin feels something in his chest, something fierce. Sometimes he thinks he catches Kame’s eye and they exchange a flicker of something, something that isn’t supposed to be there, something that the other said was dead, but can’t possibly be.
2008.02 → 2008.03.18