Pin: Like Having Wings, PG
Title: Like Having Wings
Pairing: Pin
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really.
For: soiresque. I LOVE YOU CUPCAKE. Zutto, ne! ♥♥♥ I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. :D
Word Count: 2,639
Author’s Notes: THANK YOU TO loverswhocover AND rampantapathy FOR BETA'ING. ♥ First fic in... eight months. *nervous!* >> The prompt that Tilly gave me was 'lost boys and neverever smiles (straight on till morning, baby)'. Peter Pan! (:
Like Having Wings
They’re hanging out on the night that Yamapi gets told 4Tops is being split up. They’ve been kicked out of a coffee shop after being in there for hours with just one drink (Yamapi said he wasn’t feeling thirsty but Jin thought he was probably lying). Now they linger outside, sitting on the railings and watching the shop close. The street is almost deserted. Jin is angry at the world, he wants to burn something. It’s obvious in the way he clenches his fists around the grey metal and in the fierce solid colour of his eyes. He knows how much Yamapi likes being in 4Tops, he knows how much it all means to Yamapi, and yet Yamapi isn’t saying a word. Yamapi has the emptiest face Jin has ever seen, and it’s like a blank sheet of paper that will never be written on.
“This is crazy, he can’t do this to us. He can’t do this to you,” Jin mutters, swinging his legs viciously, and it’s the same thing he’s been repeating all night, but he hasn’t got any response from Yamapi so far.
“He can,” Yamapi says suddenly, surprising Jin. “He can and he will always do crazy things to us. Jin, I hate this, I hate this, but we’re going to have to grow up and this is what the real world’s like, we have to accept it.” His voice is helpless and cracking, and it’s like the sky’s falling down, breaking into a hundred pieces and raining on them.
Jin says through gritted teeth, “We won’t let him. This isn’t the real world we’re in, Pi. This is a whole different world, it’s the entertainment industry and it’s Johnny’s.” He stares at his best friend, eyes wild. “No, Pi, we can’t.” He leans in and presses his lips against Yamapi’s. It is their first. It’s a little awkward because Yamapi is kind of shocked, not exactly expecting something like this to happen, but Jin grabs his shoulders and squeezes, hard, like he’s more frustrated than Yamapi is, and it’s so fucking painful and maddeningly amazing. Yamapi finally kisses Jin back, slipping his tongue in between other boy’s lips and he can almost taste Jin’s anger, like some hot dangerous fire, and he almost chokes on this dizzy, hysterical feeling of being stupid and young and furious at everything, this feeling which they share, being teenagers and best friends and in love.
When Jin pulls away it’s like the aftermath of a storm. They stare at each other, dazed, half-destroyed wreckages but still beautiful, still ready to live through more storms together. Jin laughs shakily, his hands trembling, and leans on Yamapi, burying his head in the curve of Yamapi’s neck and kissing the skin there gently. “This is ridiculous. Don’t ever grow up,” he hisses against Yamapi’s ear, “I don’t want us to ever grow up.” When he looks at Yamapi, there’s a smile on Yamapi’s lips that says never ever. The shadows they’re casting on the concrete pavement have melted together into a single shape, but it doesn’t seem lonely at all.
---
Jin goes home, where he immediately locks himself in his room and writes. It starts as a diary entry and ends up becoming a love song, with hearts doodled idly in the margin. It looks like something his mother used to listen to on the radio when he was still too young to understand any of the lyrics. He laughs and starts to crumple up the paper, but changes his mind and folds it neatly instead. He looks for a place to hide it. Under his bed behind a box of clothes, some old pairs of shoes and a deflated soccer ball is a tiny stash of porn magazines that he and Yamapi had bought together, all the while blushing and nudging each other in the ribs and muttering to each other in hushed voices. He doesn’t even consider slipping the paper in between the pages of one of the magazines.
He decides to put it under a photo frame. The photo is of him and Yamapi, grinning cheesily and making victory signs with their hands, and Jin has one arm slung casually over Yamapi’s shoulder. There are balloons and banners and other people in the background, and one of the banners read ‘HAPPY 16TH, JIN!’
The next morning, while Jin is out doing some photoshoot with the rest of KAT-TUN, Jin’s mother goes into his room in her usual housekeeping routine and finds the piece of paper under the photo frame. The lyrics aren’t professional and they’re definitely not a masterpiece, but they’re raw and heartfelt. When she reads it she gets that feeling of being eighteen and infatuated with someone for the first time, discovering that love isn’t as easy as she thought it would be: like falling stars, breathtaking and charming but only for that split second.
She talks to Jin when he comes back. “Jin, are you in love?” She says it bluntly, straightforward because she knows it’s best.
Jin blinks and stutters when he replies, “No, I, um--”
“You can tell mum if you are,” she says fondly, ruffling her son’s hair. “Is it anyone I know?”
“Mum,” Jin says, squirming uneasily. He glances at the photo frame on his desk. The piece of paper is there. But he knows his mum has probably read it and replaced it.
“Sorry.” She smiles softly, her eyes warm and wise the way only a mother’s eyes could ever be. “Just-- it’s wonderful, but. Don’t expect too much out of it, I guess. Be careful. You’re still so young. Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you want it to.” Jin can see heartbreak in the curve of his mother’s lips and he thinks about how he can sometimes hear his parents arguing, screaming and crying and flinging insults at each other. It terrifies him. (His heart aches a little and he thinks that this isn’t what he wants, is it?)
When his mother leaves, he sends a text to Yamapi saying: we need to talk.
---
They spend an hour and a half out for lunch together, the meal mostly silent. They look at each other a lot without saying anything. (Jin thinks about how much he adores Yamapi’s hair and Yamapi’s eyes and Yamapi’s nose and even Yamapi’s teeth, though they are crooked and ugly. He thinks about how much he wants to kiss Yamapi and tell him that it’s all right, they can work out somehow. But that’s not what he had planned to say.) In the end when they finally speak, it’s to fight over who should pay. And Jin gets tired of thinking ridiculous thoughts, so he says, “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“I’m paying,” Yamapi says resolutely.
“No, Pi,” Jin says. “You know, us--” He breaks off because his voice won’t allow him to continue.
The way Yamapi looks at Jin now is absolutely terrifying, and it is exactly why Jin doesn’t want to fall in love. Yamapi’s not even doing anything, just sitting there motionless, perhaps not even breathing. Jin thinks Yamapi will at least ask why, but he doesn’t. After what feels like an eternity, Yamapi takes out his wallet and puts down three thousand-yen notes on the table. “I’m paying,” he says again.
“It scares me,” Jin says. “I’m sorry. I just think it’s so ridiculous that I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop thinking about kissing you and it’s so weird, I just want us to be best friends, like what we were like before, that’s what I want.”
“Shut up,” Yamapi says. “You’re not making any sense.”
He stands up and walks away and Jin gets up and shouts after him, “But what about the change?”
“Forget about the change, I don’t care.” He disappears around the corner. Jin doesn’t follow him. He waits for the waiter to give him change and then goes home.
That night, he texts Yamapi saying can we meet up tomorrow, I’ve got to give the change back to you. He’s afraid that Yamapi won’t text back, but eventually Yamapi does, and Jin gets the reply at two in the morning: silly, I told you I didn’t care about the change. How about we go to Disneyland tomorrow? It’s your day off too, right?
Jin grins with relief and texts back YES in big capital letters before snuggling into his blankets and falling asleep at last.
---
Jin presses his hands and his forehead against the cold glass window and exhales, fogging up the view of the city. It’s a late February night in Los Angeles. There are shadows in the corners of the room, a guitar he’s borrowed from a friend here, promising to return after these few months (few, he’d said, not knowing if that word meant three or six or maybe some infinite number), and a pile of paper, scribbled lyrics, half in Japanese and half in English, though at times it seems like they’re in another language, utterly foreign to Jin and oh so pathetic with all those repeated clichés and the word ‘love’ featuring once every three lines. There’s a thick layer of dust on the window sill, because he’s too lazy and he never does much cleaning. He really shouldn’t be allowed to live on his own, it’s unhealthy for him, but then a lot of other things are unhealthy for him too. Like staying up late and smoking and drinking (and falling in love) and probably even just existing.
The dust shines under the moonlight, and it looks strangely like fairy dust. Jin smiles a little, lips all wrong and twisted. It’s such a ridiculous notion. He watched Peter Pan last night, because he felt like it, felt like watching something that was light-hearted enough, that would make him laugh and forget for a while. (But god, it hadn’t helped at all, he’d felt even worse by the end of it.)
Los Angeles looks brilliant and fascinating beyond the misty window pane, still all dazzling lights even though it’s past midnight (Jin has no idea how long past midnight, he can hear the clear rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall next to him but he can’t bring himself to look), and it’s kind of like Tokyo, except that’s the complete opposite reason Jin came here for. He closes his eyes and thinks about flying, soaring over the city, over the dazzling lights, and going far far away to a land of no disappointments, just the promise of staying young and naïve forever. It might be pretty amazing to spread invisible, burdenless wings made only of happy thoughts and fairy dust, and to leave everything behind: the guitar, the messy lyrics (and his messy life).
But he doesn’t know any happy thoughts. Right now, all alone in his apartment with a blanket hanging loosely over his shoulders, shivering slightly in the frosty air (the heater broke a couple of days ago and he hadn’t really thought about getting it fixed yet), he can’t seem to recall anything particularly cheerful. He tries to remember what it felt like to stand on the stage and drown in the screams of his fans, but he can’t. He was born to be a star, some people say, but sometimes he thinks destiny is just bullshit and he was born to be a nobody. All of the things he used to embrace, all of the things he used to love, all of the things that he used to think were incredible-- they’re all back in Japan, 5470 miles away. Something nudges the back of his mind, a first kiss so many years ago. It was magical, maybe, but it didn’t feel like flying. (And how does he know what flying feels like, anyway?) In fact, he doesn’t quite remember what it felt like. But it must have felt more like realising that his wings were broken and he couldn’t ever fly anymore (not that he knows what that feels like, either).
---
“Hey, Pi,” Jin says quietly. Jin is back from Los Angeles and they’re curled up in Yamapi’s bed. It’s kind of silly because they’re both men in their twenties and yet they’re still having sleepovers like they used to when they were little kids, their feet touching and their shoulders brushing, (but it’s so natural that Jin thinks they can probably keep on doing this until they grow all wrinkly and disgusting, until the day they die). “Hey, you know about what happened all those years ago? How I said it wasn’t going to work out?”
Yamapi frowns. “Why are you bringing this up again?” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I thought, you know, it’s all over. You don’t want us to be anything more than friends. It was years ago. I was, what, eighteen?”
“And you’re saying that you’ve grown up now and left the past behind?” Jin says, raising an eyebrow.
Yamapi doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then he sighs and says, “You said you didn’t want us to ever grow up, Jin. I don’t think I could ever forget. But it’s been four years, and we’ve never really talked about it after that one time, so I assumed--”
Jin shushes him. “Pi, I didn’t move on. I told you, I was too scared, but you know what, I’m still scared. I’ve been scared all these years. And being away from you just makes me so much more terrified. Los Angeles is such a huge city. I know Tokyo is much bigger, but it didn’t felt like that when I was in LA.” He pauses, trying to find the right words, but he can’t, so he does what he does when he’s at a loss for words: he steals them from someone else. “Don’t you understand, Pi? You mean more to me than anything in this whole world.”
Yamapi is speechless. “Jin, what the hell, that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, I feel like I’m talking to a hallmark card right now.”
Jin laughs. “No, it’s from a Disney movie. But I really mean it.” He grins brightly and leans in, kissing Yamapi full on the lips. Yamapi’s body softens and Jin snakes an arm around his waist. It is exhilarating and nothing like their first kiss.
This time, it finally feels like flying.
---
Jin wakes up to the faintest hint of sunshine through the curtains. His limbs are tangled with Yamapi’s and they are beautiful together. Their clothes lie like debris on the floor. (Jin thinks he remembers their first kiss clearly now-- it had been like standing in the middle of a typhoon and watching the trees fall and the rain pour, so utterly chaotic and frightening.) This morning is calm and lazy and fuzzy at the edges and Jin rolls over, putting his head on Yamapi’s chest. Jin is glowing with happiness, he can probably fly now if he finds some fairy dust, he doesn’t even need to think of a happy thought because his brain is full of them, and they are all the same, all one word: Pi, Pi, Pi. He laughs. “I think I can fly,” he murmurs to no one but himself, although Yamapi hears him anyway, his eyes already half-open.
“Idiot, what are you talking about?” he asks. “You’re like a six-year-old. Grow up.” He pushes Jin off him, but only half-heartedly.
“No,” Jin says. “Being young is good, right? We don’t really have to grow up yet.”
“Hallmark card,” Yamapi snorts, turning away from Jin.
“I love you too,” Jin says, pulling Yamapi back for a kiss, and he thinks, his head spinning with giddiness, that he can feel Yamapi’s smile on his lips.
fin.
Pairing: Pin
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really.
For: soiresque. I LOVE YOU CUPCAKE. Zutto, ne! ♥♥♥ I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. :D
Word Count: 2,639
Author’s Notes: THANK YOU TO loverswhocover AND rampantapathy FOR BETA'ING. ♥ First fic in... eight months. *nervous!* >> The prompt that Tilly gave me was 'lost boys and neverever smiles (straight on till morning, baby)'. Peter Pan! (:
Like Having Wings
They’re hanging out on the night that Yamapi gets told 4Tops is being split up. They’ve been kicked out of a coffee shop after being in there for hours with just one drink (Yamapi said he wasn’t feeling thirsty but Jin thought he was probably lying). Now they linger outside, sitting on the railings and watching the shop close. The street is almost deserted. Jin is angry at the world, he wants to burn something. It’s obvious in the way he clenches his fists around the grey metal and in the fierce solid colour of his eyes. He knows how much Yamapi likes being in 4Tops, he knows how much it all means to Yamapi, and yet Yamapi isn’t saying a word. Yamapi has the emptiest face Jin has ever seen, and it’s like a blank sheet of paper that will never be written on.
“This is crazy, he can’t do this to us. He can’t do this to you,” Jin mutters, swinging his legs viciously, and it’s the same thing he’s been repeating all night, but he hasn’t got any response from Yamapi so far.
“He can,” Yamapi says suddenly, surprising Jin. “He can and he will always do crazy things to us. Jin, I hate this, I hate this, but we’re going to have to grow up and this is what the real world’s like, we have to accept it.” His voice is helpless and cracking, and it’s like the sky’s falling down, breaking into a hundred pieces and raining on them.
Jin says through gritted teeth, “We won’t let him. This isn’t the real world we’re in, Pi. This is a whole different world, it’s the entertainment industry and it’s Johnny’s.” He stares at his best friend, eyes wild. “No, Pi, we can’t.” He leans in and presses his lips against Yamapi’s. It is their first. It’s a little awkward because Yamapi is kind of shocked, not exactly expecting something like this to happen, but Jin grabs his shoulders and squeezes, hard, like he’s more frustrated than Yamapi is, and it’s so fucking painful and maddeningly amazing. Yamapi finally kisses Jin back, slipping his tongue in between other boy’s lips and he can almost taste Jin’s anger, like some hot dangerous fire, and he almost chokes on this dizzy, hysterical feeling of being stupid and young and furious at everything, this feeling which they share, being teenagers and best friends and in love.
When Jin pulls away it’s like the aftermath of a storm. They stare at each other, dazed, half-destroyed wreckages but still beautiful, still ready to live through more storms together. Jin laughs shakily, his hands trembling, and leans on Yamapi, burying his head in the curve of Yamapi’s neck and kissing the skin there gently. “This is ridiculous. Don’t ever grow up,” he hisses against Yamapi’s ear, “I don’t want us to ever grow up.” When he looks at Yamapi, there’s a smile on Yamapi’s lips that says never ever. The shadows they’re casting on the concrete pavement have melted together into a single shape, but it doesn’t seem lonely at all.
---
Jin goes home, where he immediately locks himself in his room and writes. It starts as a diary entry and ends up becoming a love song, with hearts doodled idly in the margin. It looks like something his mother used to listen to on the radio when he was still too young to understand any of the lyrics. He laughs and starts to crumple up the paper, but changes his mind and folds it neatly instead. He looks for a place to hide it. Under his bed behind a box of clothes, some old pairs of shoes and a deflated soccer ball is a tiny stash of porn magazines that he and Yamapi had bought together, all the while blushing and nudging each other in the ribs and muttering to each other in hushed voices. He doesn’t even consider slipping the paper in between the pages of one of the magazines.
He decides to put it under a photo frame. The photo is of him and Yamapi, grinning cheesily and making victory signs with their hands, and Jin has one arm slung casually over Yamapi’s shoulder. There are balloons and banners and other people in the background, and one of the banners read ‘HAPPY 16TH, JIN!’
The next morning, while Jin is out doing some photoshoot with the rest of KAT-TUN, Jin’s mother goes into his room in her usual housekeeping routine and finds the piece of paper under the photo frame. The lyrics aren’t professional and they’re definitely not a masterpiece, but they’re raw and heartfelt. When she reads it she gets that feeling of being eighteen and infatuated with someone for the first time, discovering that love isn’t as easy as she thought it would be: like falling stars, breathtaking and charming but only for that split second.
She talks to Jin when he comes back. “Jin, are you in love?” She says it bluntly, straightforward because she knows it’s best.
Jin blinks and stutters when he replies, “No, I, um--”
“You can tell mum if you are,” she says fondly, ruffling her son’s hair. “Is it anyone I know?”
“Mum,” Jin says, squirming uneasily. He glances at the photo frame on his desk. The piece of paper is there. But he knows his mum has probably read it and replaced it.
“Sorry.” She smiles softly, her eyes warm and wise the way only a mother’s eyes could ever be. “Just-- it’s wonderful, but. Don’t expect too much out of it, I guess. Be careful. You’re still so young. Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you want it to.” Jin can see heartbreak in the curve of his mother’s lips and he thinks about how he can sometimes hear his parents arguing, screaming and crying and flinging insults at each other. It terrifies him. (His heart aches a little and he thinks that this isn’t what he wants, is it?)
When his mother leaves, he sends a text to Yamapi saying: we need to talk.
---
They spend an hour and a half out for lunch together, the meal mostly silent. They look at each other a lot without saying anything. (Jin thinks about how much he adores Yamapi’s hair and Yamapi’s eyes and Yamapi’s nose and even Yamapi’s teeth, though they are crooked and ugly. He thinks about how much he wants to kiss Yamapi and tell him that it’s all right, they can work out somehow. But that’s not what he had planned to say.) In the end when they finally speak, it’s to fight over who should pay. And Jin gets tired of thinking ridiculous thoughts, so he says, “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“I’m paying,” Yamapi says resolutely.
“No, Pi,” Jin says. “You know, us--” He breaks off because his voice won’t allow him to continue.
The way Yamapi looks at Jin now is absolutely terrifying, and it is exactly why Jin doesn’t want to fall in love. Yamapi’s not even doing anything, just sitting there motionless, perhaps not even breathing. Jin thinks Yamapi will at least ask why, but he doesn’t. After what feels like an eternity, Yamapi takes out his wallet and puts down three thousand-yen notes on the table. “I’m paying,” he says again.
“It scares me,” Jin says. “I’m sorry. I just think it’s so ridiculous that I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop thinking about kissing you and it’s so weird, I just want us to be best friends, like what we were like before, that’s what I want.”
“Shut up,” Yamapi says. “You’re not making any sense.”
He stands up and walks away and Jin gets up and shouts after him, “But what about the change?”
“Forget about the change, I don’t care.” He disappears around the corner. Jin doesn’t follow him. He waits for the waiter to give him change and then goes home.
That night, he texts Yamapi saying can we meet up tomorrow, I’ve got to give the change back to you. He’s afraid that Yamapi won’t text back, but eventually Yamapi does, and Jin gets the reply at two in the morning: silly, I told you I didn’t care about the change. How about we go to Disneyland tomorrow? It’s your day off too, right?
Jin grins with relief and texts back YES in big capital letters before snuggling into his blankets and falling asleep at last.
---
Jin presses his hands and his forehead against the cold glass window and exhales, fogging up the view of the city. It’s a late February night in Los Angeles. There are shadows in the corners of the room, a guitar he’s borrowed from a friend here, promising to return after these few months (few, he’d said, not knowing if that word meant three or six or maybe some infinite number), and a pile of paper, scribbled lyrics, half in Japanese and half in English, though at times it seems like they’re in another language, utterly foreign to Jin and oh so pathetic with all those repeated clichés and the word ‘love’ featuring once every three lines. There’s a thick layer of dust on the window sill, because he’s too lazy and he never does much cleaning. He really shouldn’t be allowed to live on his own, it’s unhealthy for him, but then a lot of other things are unhealthy for him too. Like staying up late and smoking and drinking (and falling in love) and probably even just existing.
The dust shines under the moonlight, and it looks strangely like fairy dust. Jin smiles a little, lips all wrong and twisted. It’s such a ridiculous notion. He watched Peter Pan last night, because he felt like it, felt like watching something that was light-hearted enough, that would make him laugh and forget for a while. (But god, it hadn’t helped at all, he’d felt even worse by the end of it.)
Los Angeles looks brilliant and fascinating beyond the misty window pane, still all dazzling lights even though it’s past midnight (Jin has no idea how long past midnight, he can hear the clear rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall next to him but he can’t bring himself to look), and it’s kind of like Tokyo, except that’s the complete opposite reason Jin came here for. He closes his eyes and thinks about flying, soaring over the city, over the dazzling lights, and going far far away to a land of no disappointments, just the promise of staying young and naïve forever. It might be pretty amazing to spread invisible, burdenless wings made only of happy thoughts and fairy dust, and to leave everything behind: the guitar, the messy lyrics (and his messy life).
But he doesn’t know any happy thoughts. Right now, all alone in his apartment with a blanket hanging loosely over his shoulders, shivering slightly in the frosty air (the heater broke a couple of days ago and he hadn’t really thought about getting it fixed yet), he can’t seem to recall anything particularly cheerful. He tries to remember what it felt like to stand on the stage and drown in the screams of his fans, but he can’t. He was born to be a star, some people say, but sometimes he thinks destiny is just bullshit and he was born to be a nobody. All of the things he used to embrace, all of the things he used to love, all of the things that he used to think were incredible-- they’re all back in Japan, 5470 miles away. Something nudges the back of his mind, a first kiss so many years ago. It was magical, maybe, but it didn’t feel like flying. (And how does he know what flying feels like, anyway?) In fact, he doesn’t quite remember what it felt like. But it must have felt more like realising that his wings were broken and he couldn’t ever fly anymore (not that he knows what that feels like, either).
---
“Hey, Pi,” Jin says quietly. Jin is back from Los Angeles and they’re curled up in Yamapi’s bed. It’s kind of silly because they’re both men in their twenties and yet they’re still having sleepovers like they used to when they were little kids, their feet touching and their shoulders brushing, (but it’s so natural that Jin thinks they can probably keep on doing this until they grow all wrinkly and disgusting, until the day they die). “Hey, you know about what happened all those years ago? How I said it wasn’t going to work out?”
Yamapi frowns. “Why are you bringing this up again?” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I thought, you know, it’s all over. You don’t want us to be anything more than friends. It was years ago. I was, what, eighteen?”
“And you’re saying that you’ve grown up now and left the past behind?” Jin says, raising an eyebrow.
Yamapi doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then he sighs and says, “You said you didn’t want us to ever grow up, Jin. I don’t think I could ever forget. But it’s been four years, and we’ve never really talked about it after that one time, so I assumed--”
Jin shushes him. “Pi, I didn’t move on. I told you, I was too scared, but you know what, I’m still scared. I’ve been scared all these years. And being away from you just makes me so much more terrified. Los Angeles is such a huge city. I know Tokyo is much bigger, but it didn’t felt like that when I was in LA.” He pauses, trying to find the right words, but he can’t, so he does what he does when he’s at a loss for words: he steals them from someone else. “Don’t you understand, Pi? You mean more to me than anything in this whole world.”
Yamapi is speechless. “Jin, what the hell, that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, I feel like I’m talking to a hallmark card right now.”
Jin laughs. “No, it’s from a Disney movie. But I really mean it.” He grins brightly and leans in, kissing Yamapi full on the lips. Yamapi’s body softens and Jin snakes an arm around his waist. It is exhilarating and nothing like their first kiss.
This time, it finally feels like flying.
---
Jin wakes up to the faintest hint of sunshine through the curtains. His limbs are tangled with Yamapi’s and they are beautiful together. Their clothes lie like debris on the floor. (Jin thinks he remembers their first kiss clearly now-- it had been like standing in the middle of a typhoon and watching the trees fall and the rain pour, so utterly chaotic and frightening.) This morning is calm and lazy and fuzzy at the edges and Jin rolls over, putting his head on Yamapi’s chest. Jin is glowing with happiness, he can probably fly now if he finds some fairy dust, he doesn’t even need to think of a happy thought because his brain is full of them, and they are all the same, all one word: Pi, Pi, Pi. He laughs. “I think I can fly,” he murmurs to no one but himself, although Yamapi hears him anyway, his eyes already half-open.
“Idiot, what are you talking about?” he asks. “You’re like a six-year-old. Grow up.” He pushes Jin off him, but only half-heartedly.
“No,” Jin says. “Being young is good, right? We don’t really have to grow up yet.”
“Hallmark card,” Yamapi snorts, turning away from Jin.
“I love you too,” Jin says, pulling Yamapi back for a kiss, and he thinks, his head spinning with giddiness, that he can feel Yamapi’s smile on his lips.
fin.