All's Fair in Love and Kitchen 3/4
-
“I’m sad it’s over, because it was an amazing experience, but now I’m thinking, maybe it wasn’t for me. I mean, I’m patissier. I’ve been one for all my career life. And I think… I think chef Takizawa didn’t see me as someone who could be more than that. But I’m not giving up. I’ll study more and cook more, and one day I’ll serve him the best meal he’s ever had an opportunity to taste.”
- Yuya
-
The moment Takizawa dismisses them and leaves the kitchen, the room explodes in chatter and shouting as everyone tries to speak over each other, expressing their shock and relief, and in some cases, also anger.
Maki starts sobbing, leaning against a counter, her narrow shoulders shuddering under a torrent of sobs and gasps. She was so close to leaving, but now she doesn’t have to, she can continue, and it’s overwhelming. Nakamaru and Kame hurry to her rescue; Nakamaru quietly soothes her breakdown with soft words, Kame just cautiously holds her shoulder in a silent gesture of companionship.
It’s really been a tough week.
They’re all agitated, and while it’s still not too late, it’s going to be an early night.
Kame squeezes Maki’s shoulder.
More than anything, though, he wishes everyone would leave the kitchen and he could slide down on the floor and clear his head. There’s been too much thinking.
He looks over his shoulder.
Maybe Jin could sit by his side.
Kame isn’t the only one in need of a quiet corner.
“Look at me, asshole.” Ryo pounces at Jin. “Look at me so you see what a fucking dagger in the back looks like!”
Jin backs away. “I’m telling you, calm down.”
“Calm down? How about no! I can’t believe you just tried to kick me out.”
“Right now you’re giving me all the reasons to do it again next week,” Jin says.
Ryo bares his teeth in a scowl. “I’m going to make sure you don’t make it through the next week, Akanishi.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Go sleep, Ryo. Maybe tomorrow morning you’ll wake up and for once realize the shit coming out of your mouth sometimes.” It’s Yamapi, posing himself between Jin and Ryo before things could get worse and louder.
“No one asked you,” Ryo spits.
Jin turns around and storms out of the room. He doesn’t look at Kame before leaving, his focus narrowed to finding the shortest way out of there. Kame only catches a glimpse of his back disappearing around a corner of the doorway.
He looks at Nakamaru, saying, “I need to go,” and rushes after Jin.
In the hallway, Kame calls Jin’s name a couple of times without getting an answer, but there are sounds of hasty footsteps upstairs.
It can be either Jin, or Yuya, because everyone else is still in the kitchen. It won’t take long for them to disperse into their rooms though, Kame assumes. Nakamaru is doing his best to calm down Maki, and Yamapi will hopefully talk some sense into Ryo. A cold shower might be a way to do that, to cool off Ryo’s head.
Kame heard hardly a half of the fight, but he still can’t even begin to imagine how Jin must feel like right now.
“Jin?”
Kame runs up another flight of steps, his heart pounding a little faster, his breath a little heavier. When all this is over, he’ll need to jump back on the train of regular exercising to get in shape. It’s difficult to find time for regular morning runs when his day is planned out minute after minute, and his options to leave the premises are limited.
When he finally finds Jin, it’s almost all the way up on their floor. Jin is leaning against the white wall, his kitchen uniform unbuttoned but still on, revealing a dark T-shirt with a simple picture of sunglasses in bright yellow color across his heaving chest.
“Here you are,” Kame breathes out as he jogs up the last few steps.
Jin’s eyes are closed.
“Are you alright?” Kame asks, even though the answer is practically offering itself. Jin’s not alright. Kame sways on his feet, back and forth, thinking. “I’m sorry about the fight.”
It’s not like he has anything to apologize for. Not personally.
It’s a general feeling of being sorry, because Jin is down.
Jin finally opens his eyes, dark and bleak, and so, so tired. He rubs his palms down his face, then through his hair. “I hate this show,” he groans.
Kame nods, watching Jin closely.
“The worst is, I knew Ryo would think the worst and make a scene, and I meant it when I told him that was exactly the reason for wanting him gone.”
“It’s almost like Takizawa wants to keep him on for the drama,” Kame says. Kitchen Wars is a show, after all; it’s meant to entertain, and while Kame isn’t sure how much of a word the audience has in the Showdown process, the production must know Ryo’s unhinged temperament is a hit.
“Well, fuck Takizawa. And fuck the audience.”
Kame sighs. Jin’s frustration is… understandable.
They’re all frustrated, Kame too; he’s just much better at hiding it when necessary. Jin doesn’t want to hide anything though.
“I know,” Kame whispers. He touches Jin’s shoulder, very much like he tried to console Maki downstairs. The touch feels different, though. Jin’s shoulders are strong; Kame’s fingers knead firm muscles underneath the layers of the uniform and the T-shirt.
Jin looks up and meets Kame’s gaze.
He peels himself off the wall, reaching out until his fingers curl in the front of Kame’s uniform and tug Kame closer. Kame doesn’t protest. Taking a step, two, into Jin’s personal space, and then his body collides with Jin’s, his feet lock on with Jin’s.
Jin’s lips curl up into a weak smile.
“Can we not think of any of this anymore today?”
It’s a request Kame can hardly refuse. He doesn’t want to.
He wants to feel Jin’s lips on his, because the simple touch, the taste, it all helps chase the first half of the evening away.
And when Jin takes his hand and starts gently tugging him in the direction of his room at the other end of the floor from where Kame’s room is located, the thought flashing through Kame’s mind is something along the lines of the second half of the evening turning out to be much, much better.
-
It took Ryo three days and one messed up service before he finally calmed down and stoped glaring at everyone like the wrath personified. He made a weak attempt to patch things up between him and Jin one evening after dinner, stopping Jin on the way out of the kitchen and mumbling a rather unconvincing apology.
Jin accepted it anyway.
He’d had time to think meanwhile, too.
-
“Hey!”
“Hey yourself.”
“Jin, wait. I-I’m sorry, alright?”
“Are you now?”
“Listen, I was an ass and I’m sorry. Standing there in front of Takizawa… Hell, that’s not a good feeling at all.”
“Yeah, so maybe next time try not to get into that position. Or even better, don’t make me your punching bag when you do. How about that?”
“All I can say is that I’ll try.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe, but an idiot with a plan. Meisa wants to get rid of Maki next, and I think I’ll join the crusade. You’re safe.”
“I don’t think anyone is safe, though.”
-
The show is taking its toll on all of them. Some get defensive over the smallest expression of a different opinion, like Meisa; others like Nakamaru, Pi, and Kame keep a façade of being collected and professional for most of the time, and pay the price of constant exhaustion. Then there’s Ryo who has no idea what being collected means.
Despite the obvious flaw, however, he’s still probably the best chef among all of them. Not that Kame would say that aloud.
Definitely not where Ryo might hear it, anyway.
He does tell Jin, though.
They’ve sneaked out of the lounge area, trading the company of the others for an evening privacy of Kame’s room.
Kitchen Wars is in the middle of the Week 5 of its run, and with every next person leaving the show, the atmosphere thickens. Yuya’s sudden departure was followed by Maki a week later, and now the bets are on Yamapi who fucked up and had an argument with Takizawa-a real, shouting argument that had the whole kitchen freeze in dread.
If anyone at all were expected to get into an open ruffle with Takizawa, it was Ryo or Meisa. Not the Golden Boy Yamapi.
Jin is sitting in a chair, fingers wildly dancing over the display of his phone as he texts with his brother. It’s been going on for a little over an hour, back and forth, while Kame is lying on Jin’s bed, watching him. It’s a nice view. Jin’s shirtless, his hair still a little damp from the shower, and his fingers… now Kame knows what they feel on his skin, hot and sure, gripping, soothing.
Kame feels hot just thinking about it.
He rolls over onto his stomach. “Everything good back at home?”
“Same old shit, I suppose.”
Jin shrugs, his fingers moving in a frantic sequence of typing. When he finishes the thought, he looks up. The strange expression in his face says anything but good about whatever Jin and his brother have been talking about.
Kame rears up on his elbows. “You wanna talk about it?”
Another message lights up the display of the phone, Jin skims through it, but instead of replying right back like before, he puts the phone away. “My brother Reio has been accepted into a small theatre company. They offered him a full time spot, and it’s pretty much a dream come true. He’s been talking about becoming an actor since high school,” Jin explains with an underlying pride in his voice, but his eyes keep flicking towards the phone, leaving an impression that things are just bright. Because they are not. “But dad refuses to let him go. With me engaged here and Reio gone, it would be just him and mom in the restaurant.”
“He could hire someone else.”
“You don’t know my dad.”
Jin sighs and slides a little down in the chair. His knees fall apart, the loose pants Jin’s wearing stretch over his groin, and Kame forces his eyes to stay looking above Jin’s waist.
It’s been over a week since they started spending nights together in bed instead of in the darkness of the empty kitchen downstairs, but the sparks that ignited the heat between them seem nowhere near fading.
Whenever it’s time to leave the room, Kame more and more sees it as an inconvenience.
“Is it the ‘family restaurant’ thing?” Kame asks, frowning.
“Pretty much. He doesn’t want strangers in the kitchen. Me and Reio have been helping around since we were kids. I remember coming home from school, and while other kids would sit down and do their homework, the two of us had to go help with dishes or something. The same on weekends when everyone would be outside playing with a ball at this place by the river, we were stuck in that damn restaurant.”
“That must’ve sucked.”
Jin runs a hand through his hair. “Still does. Dad treats Reio like he’s still the kid he used to be, and like Reio doesn’t want a future of his own.”
Kame squirms to sit up. He crosses his legs. “And he doesn’t let you near the stove. What about your mom? Doesn’t she have a word in the business?”
“She wouldn’t stand up to him. It’s not… easy to go against my dad.”
“Hm.” Kame smoothes a crease on the sheet in front of him, then pats the place with his hand. “Come here.”
Jin raises a brow, but moves anyway.
In a moment he’s comfortably nestled on the bed next to Kame, his head resting in Kame’s lap, Kame’s fingers threading through his hair. Despite the uneasy talk about his father, Jin seems content and not far from purring.
Kame senses some of Jin’s discomfort and when he speaks again, they’re as far from Jin’s family issues as possible.
“Back at home it’s me and three older brothers,” Kame says. “They are big and playing all sorts of sports, they have decent jobs and families. My eldest brother has a baby girl, and you should see my mom when she gets to see her.” His fingers stop moving, buried in the thick mop of Jin’s hair, fingertips just about touching Jin’s scalp. “That’s what my parents expected from all of us. To have a solid, respectable life, and a big family.” He lets out a strained huff. “And here I am.”
Jin looks up. “Nothing wrong with you.”
“Yeah, right. Nothing wrong with you. Not exactly dad’s words when I came home and announced that I wouldn’t be going to baseball practices anymore and that I was more interested in helping mom with Sunday lunch and that I wanted to study cooking in Paris.”
“He was mad because you didn’t choose a baseball career?”
“Baseball is kind of a family thing. And I love it. I mean, if I could, I wouldn’t miss a single game. But playing it professionally? Look at me, I’m not the biggest guy around-”
“Hm, I think you’re big just fine,” Jin purrs for real, turning his head so his hot breath tickles Kame’s stomach.
It’s silly, but at least it does the work and makes Kame chuckle.
“I meant for playing baseball. Have you seen some of the league guys? They are huge.”
Jin pokes a finger teasingly against Kame’s side. “The few times I watched, I was too distracted by the way their uniforms stretched over their butts.”
The statement ends with a smirk, and Kame rolls his eyes.
“What? Don’t tell me you never noticed.”
“Oh, I did notice! Right there in the dressing room before an afternoon practice one day when I was fourteen. And then I spent the next three years eyeing my team mates and praying for neither of them catching me staring.”
“Oh my god!”
“Don’t you dare judging me, it was a torture!” Kame whimpers as Jin’s finger pokes him again, this time hitting a particularly ticklish spot. He slaps the hand away but it’s right back.
“No wonder you quit baseball!”
Kame’s eyes widen, and then he starts laughing. “Shut up! I should’t have told you anything!”
Jin joins him, which in return only fuels Kame’s own giggles and gasps.
By the time his voice grows hoarse and it’s hard to catch a breath, they’ve somehow managed to roll all over the bed. Kame is on his back, gasping for air, and Jin hovers over him. Their legs are interwined and constrained by the sheets that got stuck around them.
Dark curly hair falls down around Jin’s face, framing the flushed skin of his cheeks.
Kame raises his head, straining his neck and shoulder muscles, to steal a quick kiss. As soon as their lips touch, though, Jin presses back, pushing Kame back down on the pillow, and the kiss turns into much more than the stolen playful peck it should’ve been. Not that Kame opposes.
“Do you still have a baseball uniform?” Jin asks after he pulls away, just enough to be able to move his lips. His words still tickle Kame’s skin.
Kame nods.
“I still play sometimes. For fun.”
“Good, because I’ll want to see your ass in those pants.” Jin’s completely shameless about his request.
Kame tries to ignore the fact his heart did a little jump at the notion of Jin making, shameless or not, requests for later, because in both cases it means Jin’s thinking of them seeing each other after the show is over. Outside in the real world, where they are not constantly under watch and where life is more than participating in crazy, stressful tasks that are supposed to crash them and bring them to their knees if they aren’t strong enough.
It’s too soon to make such plans though.
Too soon.
“Sounds fair. Considering I’ve been watching your ass from day one,” Kame says though. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment.
Jin’s eyebrows twitch in surprise. “Really?”
“Chef apron suits you.”
-
“Who do I see as the biggest competiton? No one. Simple like that. If this was just about cooking skills, there would be no one better than me.”
- Ryo
-
“Kame. Because we’re the same. We’re driven and open to improving. He’s able to adapt to what a specific situation requires, which is useful here on the show-and also out there when you have a restaurant full of guests who pay to get the best. If it eventually comes down to a duel between me and Kame, I’m pretty sure I’ll be screwed.”
- Yamapi
-
“I don’t know who’s the biggest competition, but I can tell you who’s not. Nishikido. He’s all big words and throwing things around, but that maybe worked on some of the people who aren’t here anymore. The four of us who continue aren’t afraid of his baseless superior complex.”
- Meisa
-
“On the show, I’d say Yamapi. But in the kitchen… Ryo. But don’t tell him.”
- Kame
-
“Probably everyone. Every time I make it through another Showdown, I can’t believe it’s happened. But that probably means that I’m not bad, so… I don’t know who is the best here, but I also can’t tell who is the worst. Hopefully it’s really not me and I’ll see you also next week.”
- Jin
-
Kame rummages through the fridge in search of anything that could serve as a late night snack and that wouldn’t require heating up. Boxes and plastic bags are piled up in the spacious shelves, some of them were opened earlier today during the show filming, others are still sitting there untouched. He’s not after the latters, because while it hasn’t happened yet, there’s this lingering suspicion that someone regularly checks the fridge and pantry contents and all the Kitchen Wars participants will eventually receive a bill for everything they used or ate during the show, be it for the on-camera cooking, or personal use-like for example when someone needs an urgent energy refill after two amazing orgasms with their fellow contestant.
It’s likely not to happen, because rationally, Kame can’t remember any mention of such thing in the contract he signed, but one can never be careful enough.
He grabs some strawberries and adds them to the variety of stuff he’s already collected on the nearest counter. There’s white bread and a small jar of honey, two bananas, and whipped cream in a spray can. For a second he also considers ice cream, but he’s only got two hands and those are already going to be full.
Closing the fridge and drowning the kitchen back into the dimness of the night emergency lights, Kame gathers his loot and hurries out of the kitchen.
After weeks of moving around the sleeping building, it’s no longer a strange sensation to be all alone in the hallways. The soft clink of the elevator door opening and then closing behind Kame’s back still kind of sounds much louder than it is, but experience tells him it’s definitely not loud enough to wake up a whole floor of sleeping people.
He rides back up to his room floor. The mirror on the cabin wall reflects Kame’s disheveled hair, as well as the stupid grin in the corner of his lips that he doesn’t seem to be able to get rid these last few days.
The days aren’t so stressful anymore when at the end of every single one of them, he and Jin can lock the door of one or the other’s room and forget about Kitchen Wars and the other contestants, even about Takizawa, or about cooking.
It may very well be the first time since Kame quit baseball that his life doesn’t center just around cooking.
Two weeks ago he would wake up and go to bed thinking about the next contest segment, about the next meal to prepare, details to add to the plate just before serving. He’d think over and over again about why he was on the show and what he expected to get out of it, but no matter how much thought went into it, he didn’t seem to be anywhere near getting answers.
Now he’s able to clear his head at the end of the day, and he wakes up relaxed and refreshed in the morning, with Jin quietly snoring next to him. Sometimes they wake up just as tangled in one another as they fell asleep the night before. That is nice, too.
Kame never considered himself a cuddler, but Jin is like a damn octopus, always trying to wrap himself around Kame.
Sometimes it’s almost hard to remember what it’s like to wake up in a bed alone.
The mirror shows Kame’s grin growing bigger at the thought.
He hasn’t really had time to think too much about any of what’s happening. In the kitchen his brain switches into the chef mode and runs on automatic, and as soon as he gets some personal time, he’d much rather spend it kissing and undressing Jin than trying to figure out what they are doing.
As long as they’re having fun and it’s not interferring with their participation on the show, there’s no need to bother with complicated thinking.
It’s only when the show is over that he will need to figure out the more complicated things. For now, his concerns are… more simple.
Kame looks down at the strawberries sitting on the top of the armful of food.
He should have taken also the container with ice cream.
The ride upstairs doesn’t take long and he’d have probably somehow managed. He’s managing fine now, isn’t he?
Too late though.
The elevator cabin comes to a halt and a quiet ding announces he’s reached the chosen floor.
It comes as a surprise that when the door opens, the light in the hallway is on. It wasn’t fifteen minutes ago when Kame slipped out of the hotel room door and set off on the food hunt. He and Jin played janken and Kame lost-yes, Jin technically cheated, but he did so in such a cute way that Kame didn’t mind putting on a pair of sweats and a hoodie while Jin lazily stretched in bed. Just that sight alone was more than worthy, in fact.
Kame looks around, the paranoid voice in his head suggesting there might be a camera or two to catch him red-handed, with arms full of treats. Or even better-turning away from his room and heading into Jin’s.
There’s no camera.
“Hey!” It’s Yamapi. “Can’t sleep?” He’s got a hand on the doorknob and in three seconds he would’ve been in his room had the elevator door not caught his attention. Now he’s regarding Kame with curious eyes; eyes that inevitably land on the food in Kame’s hands. Yamapi quirks a brow. “Is there a party that I should know about?”
A suggestive visual of Jin waiting in bed pops up on Kame’s mind.
“You have no idea,” he says, mysterious and impatient.
So probably a good idea not to bring the ice cream, after all.
Now he can only hope Jin’s still exactly where Kame left him, naked and in bed, and that he won’t think anything stupid, like going to check the hallway and see if Kame is on his way back.
That would be awkward.
Where to even begin with all the explaining…
“I’m serious, Kamenashi.” He doesn’t sound serious though. Pouting, yes. Mad, no. “Ryo has been sneaking around just five minutes ago. I’m pretty sure I know where he’s sleeping tonight. Or, you know, not sleeping.” Yamapi’s voice is lowered and he ostentatiously gestures towards the door of Meisa’s room.
“I can assure you I’m not joining that party,” Kame says, holding back a laughter.
Yamapi’s eyes roam all over the packets in Kame’s hands. “Hey, are those strawberries?”
“Yep.”
Yamapi purses his lips, naturally pouty and probably really soft to kiss. Not that Kame ever thought twice about it.
He’s been always too busy perving over Jin, and consequently also laughing at himself for all the torture that could’ve been avoided if he’d had more self-control. Good thing he doesn’t need to torture himself anymore.
Yamapi does the torture job quite well right now, anyway.
The last thing Kame wants right now is for whatever he and Jin do in their free time to become a public business like Ryo and Meisa. He’s seen the crew whisper whenever Ryo and Meisa enter the kitchen before filming, he knows the look Yamapi gives both of them. He can’t tell for sure, but sometimes it seems like Takizawa knows, too.
-
“Maybe if you paid more attention to cooking and less to the other chefs, you wouldn’t have made a beginner’s mistake.”
“That’s not what I did, sir.”
“You sure cared about something other than the vegetable, because this thing is overcooked, soggy, and gross. Just throw it away.”
-
“I hope there’s more of them left for tomorrow,” Yamapi says, pointing at the strawberries. “I have plans with them, and your midnight appetite won’t fuck it up for me.”
“I’m sure there’s more.”
Kame has a plan with the strawberries too, he thinks, now that Yamapi mentioned it. Though Kame’s plans could hardly be showed on a family friendly TV channel.
Yamapi leans against a wall, poking the floor with his toe. He’s barefoot. What the hell is he doing outside his room at this hour is a mystery. Unless he’s simply spying on everyone else’s night activities. Gathering info that could be used against them later. “I shouldn’t tell you, but rumor has it the next round will be tough as hell.”
They don’t always know what to expect to come next, but there are always rumors about the upcoming rounds. Sometimes it’s easy to guess from the new content of the fridge. One time someone heard some of the staff talking about sushi, and the following day Takizawa made them cooperate and prepare a feast of traditional Japanese dishes. Ryo loved that part, and crowned himself the head chef of the day, much to everyone else’s annoyance.
“It’s only five of us left, everything will be hard from now on.” It’s been hard for a while now.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Yamapi shrugs. Then he nods towards the snacks. “For real though, where are you taking all that?”
“Nowhere. I’m just hungry.”
“Huh-uh,” Yamapi hums a doubtful sound.
“What? You asked. Now, if you excuse me, I’ll take all this to my room and stuff my face.” He takes two steps before he realizes the mistake. He’s walking in the wrong direction. He’s walking towards Jin’s room, because that’s where he sleeps tonight. Just like he slept there the night before, and a couple of other nights as well.
However, while he does spend there quite a lot of time, it’s not his room.
There’s another sound coming from Yamapi, an amused one this time.
“Oups, wrong direction,” Kame grimaces.
“Unless you’re also getting Akanishi’s late night delivery, I’d say it indeed is the wrong direction.”
No one’s left but Jin on that side of the floor. One after another the others have been leaving the show and the original group of ten has shrinked to a half.
Kame gives Yamapi a strained grin, twists his hips to align his body with the new direction, feeling Yamapi’s eyes on him. If the other suspects something, there’s no immediate sign of it.
“Good night, Pi,” Kame tosses over his shoulder while walking slowly down the hallway. Going back to his room has never felt so wrong.
“Night,” Yamapi chuckles and waves before turning back to his own door.
It feels like forever, like Kame has gone a couple of miles down the longest hallway in the history of architecture, and it’s such a relief when he finally hears the door closing behind Yamapi. He’s almost made it to his own door, reluctantly shuffling one feet after the other, but once the air is clear and no one’s around anymore to see his real destination, he’s at the other end of the hallway in a second, carefully balancing the load of food.
He needs to improvize a little and carefully knocks on the door with his elbow, because he doesn’t have the key card and even if he had the right one, he’s lacking a free hand to use it.
That’s how he walks directly into Jin the moment the door opens.
“Whoa, careful,” Jin laughs.
The space just behind the door is narrow and small for one person, let alone two people and an armful of food. Kame is pressed against the wall and Jin leans into his personal space even further in an attempt to close the door with as little noise as possible.
Kame rests his head against the wall. “That was close,” he sighs.
Jin looks at him funny.
“Just run into Yamashita outside,” Kame sighs again. “That shit stood there like he was waiting to see me enter my room for real.”
Jin’s studying him up close, focused on Kame, maybe just Kame’s moving lips. Suddenly self-conscious, Kame licks his lips. Jin’s eyes unmistakably follow the move.
In the limited space around them, the smell of sex and sweat is suddenly clear and sharp, and Kame inhales a little stronger. Jin’s unique scent is somewhere in there, too.
Kame might never enter a kitchen and not think of Jin again.
“And did you?” Jin leans in, rests his forehead against Kame.
As Jin pulls away a moment later, another scent takes over the room. Sweet and fresh; strawberries.
Kame shakes his head. “That’s not where I was heading to.”
Jin takes one of the strawberries and puts it into his mouth. “Did he see you come back here?”
“I don’t think so.”
They finally move further into the room and Jin helps Kame unload everything on a small table next to a TV set.
“Don’t worry, I was careful.”
He was careful because it makes things easier for now. Kame knows firsthand how bad things can get when an affair with a colleague goes downhill. A busy service can be stressful enough without personal issues hanging heavy and menacing over the place.
Jin nods his head, but it’s an automatic reaction, not an approval. “Being careful all the time is overrated.”
“Things get ugly when you aren’t careful though.”
Jin’s hand is around Kame’s waist, pulling him closer, until Kame collides with Jin’s warm body and the bare minimum of clothing covering it. Jin has only put on a pair of thin sweats while Kame was gone.
“Things aren’t ugly now,” Jin says simply.
Kame likes simple. Even though he hasn’t had much of that in his life so far. The recent months have been anything but simple. And Jin’s warmth helps nothing right now.
“No, they aren’t,” he agrees.
Jin kisses him. On the contrary of everything Kame is afraid of, that is simple. And they are getting really good at that. Lips and tongues, and sometimes teeth, too. Jin likes it when Kame’s teeth gently tug on his bottom lip, or ear. And Kame likes the noises Jin makes when he does that.
With every next kiss, the warning voice inside Kame’s head grows weaker, too.
Jin takes Kame’s face in his hands, palms warm on Kame’s cheeks holding him still as the kiss turns deeper. Kame archs into Jin, craving the touch and heat and contact, and it doesn’t take long before something snaps and they’re grinding against each other, Kame pulls Jin in while Jin struggles to slide his hands down and between them, because Kame is still wearing too much clothes.
“That’s my hoodie, by the way,” Jin mumbles as his lips trace Kame’s jawline. The zipper is finally all the way down, and Jin can touch Kame again.
An alarm in Kame’s head doesn’t get a chance to go off. It’s cut off by a moan.
Jin has his fingers work on Kame’s pants next, every now and then teasingly palming Kame’s growing erection straining against the front.
Under any other circumstances, Kame would quickly spin into a panic mode right now. Yamapi saw the hoodie and chances are he recognized it. And now he knows-or suspects. Something.
But there’s no panic.
No time for that.
Jin drops on his knees, tugs Kame’s pants down over his rocking hips, and the world spins a little faster.
“Fuck-”
Kame stares down as Jin’s lips close around the tip of his cock, wet, hot, tight, making Kame’s hips jerk forward, pushing deeper into the eager mouth. Jin groans around him, but doesn’t pull back. He looks up though, dark eyes huge and inviting Kame to move and do as he pleases. Kame staggers, overwhelmed, stumbles backwards until the back of his thighs hit the table and his hands grip the edge.
He needs to keep his eyes open. Needs to see everything Jin does, adding a visual sensation to the drag and pull of Jin’s lips up and down his cock.
“Jin,” Kame whimpers.
No wonder there’s no panic. As the grip of long, sure fingers around his cock tightens and the bobbing of Jin’s head becomes faster, Kame’s brain turns into an incoherent mush. He tries to speak, tries to tell Jin to go harder, faster, to suck more, to make him come, but it all comes out as a low groan from deep in his throat.
He grabs Jin’s hair in one last attempt to take control over the situation; he likes control, control is great, Kame hazily thinks in a quickly passing flicker of conscious thought, but then it’s too late.
Kame gasps, his hips jerk involuntarily and his cock hits the back of Jin’s throat just before Jin pulls back to taste Kame on his tongue.
Jin swallows and pulls all the way away. He sits down on his heels.
Kame’s shaky knees give up and then he’s on the floor, too, still a little breathless. The mush in his head starts slowly making sense again though.
Grinning, he grabs the back of Jin’s head and pulls him in for a kiss.
“I’ve brought strawberries.”
Jin nuzzles Kame’s cheek. “Later.”
-
“So, for real now, what’s the plan after this whole mess is over?” Jin asks, wondering.
His head moves as he speaks and his hair tickles Kame’s chest. They’re lying on Jin’s bed, on top of crumpled sheets; Kame propped up on pillows, Jin sprawled on his back, resting his head on Kame instead of a pillow. Every now and then Kame treads his fingers through Jin’s hair.
After the blowjob earlier, they moved back to bed and Kame played with Jin until he reached his orgasm, too. Then it was time to look into the pile of goodies Kame had so unceremoniously dumped on the table, and spent the following hour or so feeding each other strawberries, whipped cream directly from the spray, and slices of banana, effectively making even a bigger mess of the already ruined bed.
Neither of them minds.
“Depends.” Kame slips his fingers back into Jin’s hair. He likes the smooth slide of those thick strands over his skin. “Am I the winner, or not?”
Jin shifts his head to see Kame’s face. “You tell me. Are you?”
Kame pretends to think.
Then shrugs.
And then thinks for real. Does he want what’s practically a dream job in one of the best restaurants in the city? Does he want the fame and money that would inevitably come with it? Not just the victory, but the job, too. He’d be a celebrity of sorts. Or at least that’s what they were told before the show started.
Kitchen Wars is meant to change their life forever.
Make them famous.
It would be Paris all over again, only this time the one in the center of attention would be him, if something went wrong. He’d be the one to deal with nosy reporters, the one expected to answer their invasive questions.
Jin senses there’s something more into Kame’s silence. He rolls on his side to get a better look into Kame’s face.
“You don’t want to win?”
“Do you?”
Jin snorts. “Now you’re avoiding my question.”
“Fine. I want to win because I hate losing. But after that? The job, the publicity… I don’t really want that.” He closes his eyes, sighing. It all goes back to Paris and how things got screwed over there. So much that he wouldn’t even know where to start explaining.
“Publicity sucks,” Jin says simply. “I mean, I obviously don’t know that firsthand, right? But I imagine it’s mostly people talking shit about you and acting like they know you and that you now owe them shit.”
“That’s pretty much how it is,” Kame nods. And then, maybe he could try. Maybe Jin would understand. He wants Jin to understand. “When I was in Paris-”
“Oh, your famous Paris gig. Were you, like, a celebrity there?”
Takizawa definitely made it sound that way on a couple of occasions.
But no, Kame wasn’t a celebrity.
“I was a sous chef. That’s hardly a celebrity.” That… sounds like a good way to start. “But the guy I worked for, he was one. A really famous one. A lot like Takizawa here.” Kame closes his eyes. No wonder he agreed to be on Kitchen Wars; he totally has a thing for famous chefs.
Had. Right. He had a thing for famous chefs, but now he’s over that shit.
“He has a show and people pay real money to get into the limited course he runs occasionally.”
“That does sound like Takizawa. It must have been cool to work for someone like that.”
Kame scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip, rolling it into his mouth. “It was more than work,” he admits quietly.
“Oh.”
“We were… involved. Two years, give or take, and we lived together for a while before the press found out. He… He wasn’t out, so when our pictures appeared on the front page of every tabloid, things got ugly.”
“Shit, Kame.”
Jin holds him, presses his lips to the hollow of Kame’s throat and to his shoulder, then squeezes a little tighter. Like a hug could make things better.
In a way, it does. It reminds Kame that all the bad stuff is in the past. He’s left it at the other side of the world.
It’s not here with him anymore.
Jin is.
“‘Shit’ is nowhere near what the situation evolved into, and he didn’t take it well. Suddenly no one wanted to talk about cooking and everyone was interested in his sex life, which put a strain on our relationship. People would camp in front of the restaurant or wait under our window to get more pictures. To get a picture of me. It wasn’t comfortable.”
“I’m sorry,” Jin mumbles.
“We argued because he didn’t know how to handle the situation-and to be fair, I didn’t know either. In the end I left. Not my strongest moment in life, but it was the best I could do. I left the kitchen, our apartment, and then the country, too. I was lucky the tabloids never found out my name and my face wasn’t clear on any of the pictures they got, so I’m relatively safe.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath, and as the air leaves his lungs, relief simmers to the surface. He didn’t think he’d want to talk about it. Ever.
“Joining Kitchen Wars doesn’t sound like the best way to maintain privacy though.”
“I was back in Japan and didn’t know what to do next. My mom thought I should try getting on the show, because it could help with kicking off my career again, and I couldn’t explain her why it was a bad idea. So here I am.”
“And here I thought it was Kusano who got here by accident,” Jin chuckles.
“He probably did, though. In my case, it’s more for the lack of objection on my side when my mom told me to apply.”
“Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re here.”
Kame kisses him and feels like a part of the weight he’s been carrying around on his shoulders is gone.
“Does it mean the plan for after the show is over is to keep low profile and never go back to Europe again?”
“That was the plan from the moment I boarded the plane back home,” Kame admits, and it must be the first time he doesn’t feel bitter about it.
Jin wriggles a little, but to Kame’s relief doesn’t roll away. Jin’s warmth feels nice where he’s pressed to Kame’s side.
Pressing his lips to Kame’s shoulder, Jin mumbles, “Did you love him? The French guy?”
“We wanted the same things. We were good together.”
Jin looks up. “That’s not an answer.”
It’s the only answer Kame has, though. “We built a life together, a nice life, with work we both loved, friends who supported us, but then he let it shatter into pieces. He locked me out and acted like he was the only one who had to deal with consequences. We could’ve done it together-it’s not like he’s been forsaken after the truth came out. He still has his show and his snobby cooking course. The storm has passed and reporters found another sensation to write about. Meanwhile, I am the one who has to collect the pieces and start over.”
Jin raises his head, then props himself on his elbows. He want to see Kame and wants Kame to look back at him.
“Well, he’s an idiot. I’d never push you away if you wanted to stay.”
“That’s good to know,” Kame mutters. He doesn’t know what else to say because Jin’s talking about a future that’s not here for now. Plenty of time to think of pushing away and staying, and making decisions.
This is just fun.
“What about you?” Kame changes the subject, pointing the limelight of the conversation on Jin, even though he hasn’t answered the actual question himself yet.
“What about me?”
“What is your plan after this?”
“I’m not quite sure yet, but I definitely do want to keep cooking. You were right. I’ve made it this far on the show, so chances are, someone will want to hire me.”
Kame grins. Jin’s words are warm and full of hope, of plans that may not have a specific direction or shape, but it’s more than what Jin mentioned three weeks ago. Kame runs fingers through Jin’s hair.
“You know what I think?” Jin asks after a while.
“About?”
“I think we would be great at running a restaurant together. You’d cook all that fancy stuff that would bring people in and make them come back over and over again, and I’d help. You could teach me, too. I’m not a bad cook-”
“You’re a great cook,” Kame blurts out while his brain is trying to process what Jin is saying.
Or how serious he is about this plan of his.
“-oh, okay, I’m a great cook, but I could be better, with a little help.”
With a little help, Jin could be probably better than anyone. He already is. It’s just his head messing with him after a long time of no one believing in his skills and not letting him put them in use. But Kame has been watching Jin these past weeks, watching him more closely than any other person on this show, and he knows what Jin is capable of.
Jin can turn even the most simple dish into something magnificent, and during public events, he knows how to entrance people with his cooking skills. And the best part is, Jin doesn’t even try too hard most of the time. While Kame or Yamapi need to focus on giving the best performance, Jin scowls and hardly says a word, and people love him anyway.
“Just imagine it,” Jin keeps going, getting more excited as he lets the originally random idea grow and shape. “It could be a small, cozy place. With the best food and maybe live music. We probably wouldn’t hear much of it back in the kitchen, but guests would love it.”
Kame’s eyelids flutter as he tries to wrap his head around the sudden, and unexpected, explosion of future plans. A restaurant? Run by the two of them? What the hell?
Kame wriggles and sits straight, the shift of his body forcing Jin to roll off him.
He remembers another night, quite similar to this one, and another man making plans for both of them.
“-what do you think we should call it?” Jin asks.
Kame hears the question like it’s coming from behind a wall. Dull and distorted. It doesn’t sound like Jin.
( part 4)