JE Fic: Four Seasons of Friendship, pin, pg
Title: Four Seasons of Friendship
Author:yamapea
Pairing: none; pin friendship.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1,612
A/N: Thank you to spurious ♥ for the handholding.
Summer
This summer is hot, much too hot. It's hot and irritable and sticky. Jin keeps talking about the bigger picture and Yamapi hates it, hates how heavy it feels, how gross and angry everything makes him in the heat.
One weekend in June, Pi rents a convertible, and they take long unnecessary drives out of the city, just to stare up at the big, open expanse of blue sky. Jin talks about flying, about the world beyond this, about life beyond this, and Yamapi thinks about space.
"Yeah," Pi says, peering up at the sky beyond the windshield. "I want to see the world from up there."
He feels Jin looking at him, and there's a weird, painful pause wherein Yamapi realizes he has totally misunderstood what Jin was even talking about. Jin shrugs.
"I want to see the world from anywhere but here."
There's a feeling there that Yamapi can't stand. It feels like things are about to change, like Jin is gearing up for something else, like he could leave it all behind at any moment, and it's unsettling and terrifying and exciting all at once. There's a part of Yamapi that feels like if Jin left, he would leave with him, in a heartbeat, without question. But there's also the nagging sense that if Jin left, Yamapi would stay, and they'd only grow further and further apart.
"I want to go to America," Jin says, leaning further back in his seat to stare up at the sky.
A burst of wind gusts through the car, and Yamapi pulls off of the road and into a grassy parking lot. They've reached the top of a hill, and Pi sits for a moment, taking in the view as the car idles.
"I think I'm going to do it. Just leave, just go."
Yamapi squints up at the clouds overhead and tries not to frown or groan or say something he'll regret later, even at the sinking feeling in his chest and stomach, even as he tries to imagine life without Jin.
Yamapi agrees quietly when Jin talks about things like freedom, even if he doesn't really feel the same way. Jin talks about flying and Yamapi thinks about wanting to be an astronaut, but it feels so far away and so long ago.
Autumn
It's getting cold too soon this year.
Yamapi hasn't talked to Jin in what feels like weeks. It's probably been more like days, maybe more like just a day, but when they do talk things feel weird and awkward. Jin tells him about the people he's met, about the places he's going, and Yamapi wants to tell him things too, wants to prove that he's not just sitting around waiting for Jin to come back. Lately, though, he has been.
He's tried to talk to Ryo about it, but whenever he mentions that Jin is gone, Ryo always frowns at him, always tells him not to be retarded, that Jin's coming back in a few months and Yamapi sounds like a jealous girlfriend or something.
It's U-kun who he finally opens up to, one day over lunch.
"It's Jin," he says, as if this explains everything, and Yamapi twists his lips in thought.
"What if he forgets about…" he feels dumb halfway through it, but it's too late to not say it now. "…me. He has all these American friends now-"
Yuu frowns at him. "It's Jin," he says again. "He'll always be your friend, right?"
"It's not going to be the same," Yamapi says stubbornly. "When he comes back… things will be different."
"Things are always different," Yuu says, tearing a piece of curry bread in two and passing Yamapi a half. "Every day things are different. Have some."
Yamapi holds the bread in his hands, staring down at it, lost in thought. Yuu munches happily on his half across the table, and Pi figures that to him, the conversation is probably over and solved. Somehow, though, curry bread isn't making everything okay right now, and Yamapi doesn't know what can.
"I have to go," Yamapi says, setting his half down on the table.
Yuu gives him an exaggerated doe-eyed frown and Yamapi feels guilty.
"I'm sorry," he says. "Thank you."
"He'll come back," Yuu promises.
Yamapi smiles and waves his hand dismissively. "I know," he says. "I'll see you."
Winter
It has never struck Yamapi before how cold and dead everything is on Christmas, but this year the realization makes things dreary and lonely.
He spends most of the day shuffling around his apartment, where he alternates staring blankly at the television and staring sadly into desolate cupboards. He finally decides that he has to go out when he finds himself wondering if he could eat an entire jar of pickled ginger for dinner.
The streets are filled with couples, who bustle obliviously by him, shoulders bumping underneath their coats and scarves. Yamapi sighs as he shuffles into a ramen stall and tries his best to think about the food and not the loneliness.
He's just settling down with his noodles when his phone rings, and for one terrifying and thrilling moment, he thinks it might be Jin.
Hot broth splashes across his hand as he fumbles for the phone in his pocket, and he's so busy cursing that he doesn't check the caller ID before he flips it open.
"AH! Eh… Moshi moshi~" he manages, shaking his hand and trying not to let on how much pain he's in.
"Yamapi?"
His heart drops somewhere into his stomach, and it takes him half a minute and a deep breath to reply.
"Kamenashi," he says, simply.
There's a pause, and Yamapi's mood grows steadily darker. Not only is his best friend gone, but he's alone on Christmas, drenched in hot ramen broth and stuck on an awkward phone call with Kame, of all people; Kame, who is probably part of what made Jin so desperate to leave in the first place.
"Whatareyoudoing?" Kame asks in a rush, and Yamapi is annoyed by how casual he's trying to be.
"Eating," Yamapi says. He doesn't ask what Kame is doing; he doesn't particularly care, but Kame doesn't seem to notice that.
"Do you want to come over?"
Yamapi opens his mouth to give Kame some made up excuse about meeting up with Ryo-chan or one of his school friends, but as he stares out at the passing couples, something stops him. He hesitates.
"I mean, I understand if you're busy, I don't expect-"
"Okay," Yamapi hears himself saying. "Thank you, Shuji-kun, I'll be right over."
On the short walk to Kame's apartment, Yamapi thinks about the three of them, wonders if this thing with Kame is part of where things with Jin started to fall apart, wonders if their stupid, lonely friendship is all a huge mistake and an even worse misunderstanding. He keeps picturing Jin's face the way it looked when Seishun Amigo first came on the radio, and he wonders if it's his fault, their fault, that Jin went off chasing freedom.
He stops just outside Kame's door, and it takes fifteen minutes, three unsent mails, and one badly typed, drunken text message from America to make him decide to turn around and go home.
Spring
Jin comes home in April, but it's well into May before their schedules really allow them to see each other, and the weather is already starting to get hot.
They make plans for a Friday night. Jin wants to go out, as usual, and Yamapi wants to stay in, as usual. Also as usual, Yamapi gets his way, though once Jin arrives at his apartment looking weary and stressed, Yamapi realizes it's mostly because Jin is too worn out from his sudden return to pop star life to argue about what they do.
When Yamapi opens the door, Jin laughs.
"You look like a girl," Jin says, grinning as Yamapi steps aside. Pi scowls.
"You gained weight," Yamapi says, self-consciously ruffling his hair as Jin shuffles past him. Jin gives him a hurt, scandalized look, and now it's Yamapi's turn to laugh.
"Do you want a beer?"
They make small talk about work and girls and jetlag while Yamapi rummages in the kitchen, and Jin has managed to sprawl out across Yamapi's entire couch by the time Pi returns, beers in hand.
"Oi, Bakanishi, move!" Yamapi grumbles, but Jin blinks sleepily up at him and Pi doesn't really have the heart to be annoyed.
"I'm so tired," Jin says, stretching and yawning as if Pi needs proof. Yamapi looks at him skeptically, and then at the clock.
"Did you seriously come over to sleep?"
Jin shrugs and rolls back against the cushions, burying his face in a pillow. He mumbles something almost indecipherable in response, and after an exasperating moment of watching Jin settle in for a nap, Yamapi snatches the pillow away.
"What was that?"
Jin scowls up at him and yawns again. He reminds Yamapi of a cat that's just been disturbed, the way he stretches and frowns and blinks. "I don't care what we do," he mumbles, but his eyes are already closing before he finishes, "just glad I'm here."
Yamapi fights back a stupid smile at that, but it doesn't really matter-Jin is already dozing off.
He watches Jin sleep for a moment, until he feels a little creepy about it, and then he lets his gaze drift up, over the couch and out the window, where the wind blows occasional cherry blossoms across his view of the sunset.
Everything feels fresh and new and easy, and as Jin starts to snore, Yamapi decides that he likes spring best of all.
Author:yamapea
Pairing: none; pin friendship.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1,612
A/N: Thank you to spurious ♥ for the handholding.
Summer
This summer is hot, much too hot. It's hot and irritable and sticky. Jin keeps talking about the bigger picture and Yamapi hates it, hates how heavy it feels, how gross and angry everything makes him in the heat.
One weekend in June, Pi rents a convertible, and they take long unnecessary drives out of the city, just to stare up at the big, open expanse of blue sky. Jin talks about flying, about the world beyond this, about life beyond this, and Yamapi thinks about space.
"Yeah," Pi says, peering up at the sky beyond the windshield. "I want to see the world from up there."
He feels Jin looking at him, and there's a weird, painful pause wherein Yamapi realizes he has totally misunderstood what Jin was even talking about. Jin shrugs.
"I want to see the world from anywhere but here."
There's a feeling there that Yamapi can't stand. It feels like things are about to change, like Jin is gearing up for something else, like he could leave it all behind at any moment, and it's unsettling and terrifying and exciting all at once. There's a part of Yamapi that feels like if Jin left, he would leave with him, in a heartbeat, without question. But there's also the nagging sense that if Jin left, Yamapi would stay, and they'd only grow further and further apart.
"I want to go to America," Jin says, leaning further back in his seat to stare up at the sky.
A burst of wind gusts through the car, and Yamapi pulls off of the road and into a grassy parking lot. They've reached the top of a hill, and Pi sits for a moment, taking in the view as the car idles.
"I think I'm going to do it. Just leave, just go."
Yamapi squints up at the clouds overhead and tries not to frown or groan or say something he'll regret later, even at the sinking feeling in his chest and stomach, even as he tries to imagine life without Jin.
Yamapi agrees quietly when Jin talks about things like freedom, even if he doesn't really feel the same way. Jin talks about flying and Yamapi thinks about wanting to be an astronaut, but it feels so far away and so long ago.
Autumn
It's getting cold too soon this year.
Yamapi hasn't talked to Jin in what feels like weeks. It's probably been more like days, maybe more like just a day, but when they do talk things feel weird and awkward. Jin tells him about the people he's met, about the places he's going, and Yamapi wants to tell him things too, wants to prove that he's not just sitting around waiting for Jin to come back. Lately, though, he has been.
He's tried to talk to Ryo about it, but whenever he mentions that Jin is gone, Ryo always frowns at him, always tells him not to be retarded, that Jin's coming back in a few months and Yamapi sounds like a jealous girlfriend or something.
It's U-kun who he finally opens up to, one day over lunch.
"It's Jin," he says, as if this explains everything, and Yamapi twists his lips in thought.
"What if he forgets about…" he feels dumb halfway through it, but it's too late to not say it now. "…me. He has all these American friends now-"
Yuu frowns at him. "It's Jin," he says again. "He'll always be your friend, right?"
"It's not going to be the same," Yamapi says stubbornly. "When he comes back… things will be different."
"Things are always different," Yuu says, tearing a piece of curry bread in two and passing Yamapi a half. "Every day things are different. Have some."
Yamapi holds the bread in his hands, staring down at it, lost in thought. Yuu munches happily on his half across the table, and Pi figures that to him, the conversation is probably over and solved. Somehow, though, curry bread isn't making everything okay right now, and Yamapi doesn't know what can.
"I have to go," Yamapi says, setting his half down on the table.
Yuu gives him an exaggerated doe-eyed frown and Yamapi feels guilty.
"I'm sorry," he says. "Thank you."
"He'll come back," Yuu promises.
Yamapi smiles and waves his hand dismissively. "I know," he says. "I'll see you."
Winter
It has never struck Yamapi before how cold and dead everything is on Christmas, but this year the realization makes things dreary and lonely.
He spends most of the day shuffling around his apartment, where he alternates staring blankly at the television and staring sadly into desolate cupboards. He finally decides that he has to go out when he finds himself wondering if he could eat an entire jar of pickled ginger for dinner.
The streets are filled with couples, who bustle obliviously by him, shoulders bumping underneath their coats and scarves. Yamapi sighs as he shuffles into a ramen stall and tries his best to think about the food and not the loneliness.
He's just settling down with his noodles when his phone rings, and for one terrifying and thrilling moment, he thinks it might be Jin.
Hot broth splashes across his hand as he fumbles for the phone in his pocket, and he's so busy cursing that he doesn't check the caller ID before he flips it open.
"AH! Eh… Moshi moshi~" he manages, shaking his hand and trying not to let on how much pain he's in.
"Yamapi?"
His heart drops somewhere into his stomach, and it takes him half a minute and a deep breath to reply.
"Kamenashi," he says, simply.
There's a pause, and Yamapi's mood grows steadily darker. Not only is his best friend gone, but he's alone on Christmas, drenched in hot ramen broth and stuck on an awkward phone call with Kame, of all people; Kame, who is probably part of what made Jin so desperate to leave in the first place.
"Whatareyoudoing?" Kame asks in a rush, and Yamapi is annoyed by how casual he's trying to be.
"Eating," Yamapi says. He doesn't ask what Kame is doing; he doesn't particularly care, but Kame doesn't seem to notice that.
"Do you want to come over?"
Yamapi opens his mouth to give Kame some made up excuse about meeting up with Ryo-chan or one of his school friends, but as he stares out at the passing couples, something stops him. He hesitates.
"I mean, I understand if you're busy, I don't expect-"
"Okay," Yamapi hears himself saying. "Thank you, Shuji-kun, I'll be right over."
On the short walk to Kame's apartment, Yamapi thinks about the three of them, wonders if this thing with Kame is part of where things with Jin started to fall apart, wonders if their stupid, lonely friendship is all a huge mistake and an even worse misunderstanding. He keeps picturing Jin's face the way it looked when Seishun Amigo first came on the radio, and he wonders if it's his fault, their fault, that Jin went off chasing freedom.
He stops just outside Kame's door, and it takes fifteen minutes, three unsent mails, and one badly typed, drunken text message from America to make him decide to turn around and go home.
Spring
Jin comes home in April, but it's well into May before their schedules really allow them to see each other, and the weather is already starting to get hot.
They make plans for a Friday night. Jin wants to go out, as usual, and Yamapi wants to stay in, as usual. Also as usual, Yamapi gets his way, though once Jin arrives at his apartment looking weary and stressed, Yamapi realizes it's mostly because Jin is too worn out from his sudden return to pop star life to argue about what they do.
When Yamapi opens the door, Jin laughs.
"You look like a girl," Jin says, grinning as Yamapi steps aside. Pi scowls.
"You gained weight," Yamapi says, self-consciously ruffling his hair as Jin shuffles past him. Jin gives him a hurt, scandalized look, and now it's Yamapi's turn to laugh.
"Do you want a beer?"
They make small talk about work and girls and jetlag while Yamapi rummages in the kitchen, and Jin has managed to sprawl out across Yamapi's entire couch by the time Pi returns, beers in hand.
"Oi, Bakanishi, move!" Yamapi grumbles, but Jin blinks sleepily up at him and Pi doesn't really have the heart to be annoyed.
"I'm so tired," Jin says, stretching and yawning as if Pi needs proof. Yamapi looks at him skeptically, and then at the clock.
"Did you seriously come over to sleep?"
Jin shrugs and rolls back against the cushions, burying his face in a pillow. He mumbles something almost indecipherable in response, and after an exasperating moment of watching Jin settle in for a nap, Yamapi snatches the pillow away.
"What was that?"
Jin scowls up at him and yawns again. He reminds Yamapi of a cat that's just been disturbed, the way he stretches and frowns and blinks. "I don't care what we do," he mumbles, but his eyes are already closing before he finishes, "just glad I'm here."
Yamapi fights back a stupid smile at that, but it doesn't really matter-Jin is already dozing off.
He watches Jin sleep for a moment, until he feels a little creepy about it, and then he lets his gaze drift up, over the couch and out the window, where the wind blows occasional cherry blossoms across his view of the sunset.
Everything feels fresh and new and easy, and as Jin starts to snore, Yamapi decides that he likes spring best of all.