fic for hilaryscribbles (2/2)
Part 1
--
“Hi,” Yamapi says, and Jin tumbles off his makeshift seat in surprise, face smashing into the snow. It's not like it matters much; the duffel he was sitting on is already soaked through, and his pants feel all wet and cold and uncomfortable. Yamapi looks warm and dry, though, and he's wearing a big grin. It only took him five minutes to find Jin.
“What the hell,” Jin says blankly, snow threatening to creep in under his collar.
It turns out that Jin was really close to the cabin, which is hidden behind a nearby clump of trees. There's a road on the other side, a narrow track that leads back to the main highway. A big black SUV is parked beside it, fluffy dice hanging from the rear vision mirror.
“It's a rental,” Pi explains when he catches Jin looking at it. “Kame picked it out.”
Of course Kame picked it out. Part of Kame would have wanted to go with the green, environmentally friendly option, but another part would have been too tempted by the big, black, kakkoii car with its cute hanging dice.
“What a gas guzzler,” Jin says meanly, before he can stop himself. “Way to look after our world's natural resources.”
Yamapi gives him a look, but it's more fond than irritated. Yamapi has had a long time to get used to Jin. He walks right up to the door of the cabin and opens it, holding the door for Jin to step through.
Jin pauses, just for a moment, then takes a bold step inside. He feels suddenly, intensely uncomfortable, as if he's crashing someone's honeymoon.
“Hi,” Kame says, staring at Jin. He looks kind of awkward, like he doesn't know what to say exactly.
“Hi,” Jin replies. He drops his duffel on the floor. It makes a wet, slapping sound, and Kame winces a little.
“What are you doing here?” Kame asks, very casually. He's wearing a dumb flowery apron over a thick woollen sweater. He looks warm.
All of Jin's carefully constructed insults and accusations seem to disintegrate under his reaching hands. Suddenly, the thought of opening his mouth and telling Kame that the extra ticket was for Jin, not Pi, seems horrifying. Horrifying and embarrassing.
“Nothing much,” Jin says. “Tomo invited me.”
Kame turns to stare at Yamapi, who looks just as confused as Kame does. “Right,” Pi says. This is why he'll always be one of Jin's best friends. “I must have forgotten to mention that.”
“Yeah...” Kame says slowly, still staring at Yamapi. His eyes are all tiny and suspicious. There's a Monopoly game on the floor in front of the nearby fire, tiny hotels lined up along one side of the board.
“Kame's winning,” Yamapi says, breaking the silence that's threatening to stretch out. “Kame always wins.”
Kame drops to his knees beside the board and straightens one of the hotels. “That's because you're stingy. You have to actually buy properties, you know.”
Jin can remember a million nights like this one; sleepovers the three of them had as kids, playing dumb board games and stuffing their faces with junk food. They always played with the set that's in front of Kame and Pi now. Jin hadn't even known that Kame still had it. It'd been a gift from Takki, who'd won tiny Kamenashi Kazuya over with the shiny new British-edition Monopoly set. They'd all thought they were so cool. Board game rebels, playing late into the night. Then they'd grown up, and swapped Monopoly for girls and parties. Jin hadn't known board games were in style again. Everything comes full circle in the end.
“You can play if you want,” Kame says now, not meeting Jin's eyes as he shakes out the tiny silver dog. “We can start a new game. Pi lost ages ago, anyway, he's like, a hundred million yen in debt to me.”
Jin takes a careful seat on the floor, legs tucked up under him. He feels a little like a grumpy snowman, all soggy and squished up, hoodie bunched around his neck. “I don't really want the dog,” he says.
Yamapi and Kame both stare at him.
“You always have the dog,” Yamapi says, voice matter-of-fact. When they were younger, Jin would snatch the dog up first, and Kame took the hat, and Pi grabbed for the ship.
Jin shifts awkwardly in place. “People change.”
Sometimes it's like there's this big steel wall inside of Jin that slams down and refuses to move, stubbornly remaining in place. It doesn't let him move past things, and it makes things awkward, and it doesn't let him have any fun. It makes his stomach twist up until he feels sick. 'If I were a better person,' he thinks, 'I'd have found a way to enjoy playing Monopoly.' Instead of having fun, Jin is just sitting there in a wet pile, being a total bitch. It's gotten to the point where he doesn't even know why he's still fighting. Jin really wants to snatch up the tiny silver dog and cradle it in his palm.
“Uh huh,” Yamapi's saying dubiously as Jin's phone buzzes in his pocket. He reaches in and scoops it out. It's Josh again.
what ru doin? 今どう？？？
Twenty seconds after Jin's replied, his phone vibrates again.
マジでwtf y is YamaP still there? なんだよ？？ kick him out ばか
Jin's still staring at it when another message pops up in a deceptively cheerful speech bubble. まかせてok ill handel it
The next second, Jin sees Yamapi reach into his own pocket, and pull out his phone. He stares at it for a moment, then his eyes shift to the side.
“Excuse me,” he says, voice all weird. “I've just remembered that I have an appointment in Tokyo.”
“What?” Kame says, his voice rising to an indignant little squawk. It's really unflattering. “You never mentioned any appointment.”
“It's really important,” Pi replies. He stands up; body wooden and awkward, moving like some sort of puppet. These are his acting skills.
Jin sits there like a giant lump, even as he feels an ugly, uncomfortable flush crawling up the back of his neck. He knows that Josh mailed Yamapi. Just knows it, deep in his bones.
Kame just keeps sitting there on the floor in his floral apron, staring up at Yamapi. When he speaks again, his voice is calm and steady, but Jin can see glimpses of psycho Kame underneath his cool exterior. Kame is mad.
“I'd like to see you in the next room,” Kame says, eyes burning into Yamapi; hot little coals in his pale face.
“Hey,” Jin says lamely. Pi and Kame both turn to look at him, which makes him feel even lamer. He can feel the snow melting on his clothing; cold water starting to trickle down his neck. It feels like an apt representation of what his life has become. He's just this big loser, sitting in a cabin in the midst of the most awkward silence on earth.
“Now, please,” Kame says, turning back to Pi. When he stands up and disappears through the door at the other end of the room, Pi slowly trails after him, head hanging miserably as he casts a desperate glance back at Jin. Jin pretends not to notice it, even as he can feel his ears turning red. It he doesn't acknowledge it, he can pretend it's not happening.
fixt ur love life, ur welcome 俺さいこだから Josh sends. Jin stares down at his phone and feels like he's gonna puke all over the dumb Monopoly board. Josh is illiterate in English and Japanese both. He wonders what Josh said to Pi, exactly. What if Pi thinks he and Kame are dating?? What if he thinks they're involved in some big gay drama. From the next room Jin can hear muffled yelling, and a thump or two. He imagines the two of them emerging with black eyes and bruised fists, Yamapi fighting for Jin's honour. His thoughts are interrupted when the door squeaks, then opens, Kame stepping through first with his face a perfect, blank mask.
“I'll see you guys back in Tokyo,” Yamapi's saying as he steps out after Kame.
All Jin can feel is this slow panic churning in his gut, and it only gets worse when Kame just nods stiffly.
“Later,” Kame says, super casual. He sits back down on the floor, in the same place he was sitting before, and carefully starts arranging the little houses and hotels. Jin just stares at Yamapi, who's already gathering his bags.
Ten minutes later, Yamapi is gone, the only sign that he'd even been there at all the little overturned ship on the board in front of Jin. Kame's just been sitting there, the Monopoly dice clutched tight in his hand.
“Your turn,” Jin says, staring down at the neat little piles of money that Kame's collected. His own cash is stacked in messy heaps. He's never really had a strategy for Monopoly; he just tends to buy every property he lands on. He likes buying the railroads, but he also has a soft spot for the really expensive properties. They make him feel like a rich gentleman.
Kame rolls the dice, then slides his little top hat along the board, landing on a Community Chest square. He plucks a card from the stack. His forehead creases in a frown.
Kame's Monopoly set had always been really cool, but everything had been in English. Whenever they'd had to read a Chance or Community Chest card they'd always just made it up. Jin's sent Pi to jail a million times for being the ugliest person in the room.
“Let me,” Jin says now, snatching the card from Kame's uncertain grip.
“I could have done it,” Kame says uncertainly, but he looks kind of happy that he doesn't have to stumble through the awkward English words.
“You have won second prize in a beauty contest,” Jin says. “Collect $10.”
The two of them sit there for a second before Kame picks up his money from the bank.
“You've been underpaid,” Jin says desperately. “You're an Eternal Jeanist. You should have demanded more.”
Kame pauses, then ducks his head and grins. Jin can see his eyes lighting up under his eyelashes. He shouldn't notice these things; sometimes it's like he's a big, dumb girl. “I didn't want to disappoint my fans,” Kame says, solemnly. “They were counting on seeing me there at that beauty contest. Some of them waited all day.”
They always joked about their burgeoning fame as kids, and it's still funny now, even though it's more fact than joke.
--
Later in the evening, when the cabin is dark, Jin realises that it's really fucking cold, even though there's a fire roaring in the grate. He says as much to Kame, who's still in his ugly apron, laying on his stomach on the floor. He's flipping through one of his Supernatural scripts, Jin thinks. He hasn't mentioned the drama to Jin at all.
“It's been like that since we got here,” Kame says when Jin points out the temperature of the room. “Whoever booked the cabin didn't really look into it too well...”
“Josh booked the cabin,” Jin says, feeling oddly defensive. He doesn't like it when people insult his friends, even when his friends are giant American douchebags.
“Oh.” Kame glances up from the script, hair falling into his eyes. “Really? Who does he work for? One of the sponsors for the drama? I figured someone just gave them to him to pass on.”
Jin pauses, then barrels on, weird embarrassment making his voice come out all thick and awkward sounding. “I dunno. Yeah. A sponsor.” Somehow, the idea of Kame knowing that Josh was trying to fix their broken friendship is more than Jin can take.
Kame turns back to the script. His lips move as he traces each line with his eyes, fingertips tapping on the floor beside him.
“Wanna run some lines?” Jin asks. It just comes out of his mouth. He doesn't even know why he asks. It's just, for a moment there, things kind of felt like old times.
Kame's head snaps up, eyes wide and surprised as he stares at Jin, and maybe a little suspicious. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, sure...” Jin's starting to feel oddly defensive. “Why not?”
Kame raises one eyebrow. He should look like a bitch, but mostly he just looks confused. To Jin, anyway.
“What?” Jin complains. He's starting to feel pretty confused himself. Confused and a little angry. “All of a sudden I'm not good enough to run lines with?”
“You're good enough,” Kame says at last, giving in a little.
“What, then?????” Jin demands.
Kame flips shut the script and clears his throat. He looks really awkward all of a sudden, and really distant. Jin has no idea what's going on inside his head.
“WHAT?” Jin demands again, even though he's not sure if he wants to know what it is that's turning Kame into this weird, hesitant guy.
“I thought you'd be more annoyed about the drama,” Kame says at last. “Or that you'd hate it, or something. I don't know.”
Jin can kind of see why; he's never reacted well to Kame and Pi playing opposite each other. It always feels like a slight when someone steals Kame's attention away. For a while, when they were kids, Jin had spent a few months despising baseball. Kame had been so upset when he'd found out, and he'd spent weeks and weeks desperately quoting cool baseball facts to Jin. He'd even given Jin his favourite player card.
“I don't hate it,” Jin says.
Kame frowns. “I saw you on set and you just ignored me, it was like I didn't even exist.”
“I didn't ignore you,” Jin says, mouth falling open in horror. “And I don't hate you. I have no idea why you'd think that.”
There's a pause, almost like Kame's gathering the strength to go on, and when he speaks the words tumble out, almost like he can't stand keeping them bottled up anymore.
“Maybe,” Kame says stiffly, “It's because you turned down the role.”
“Oh,” Jin says.
Kame looks away. “It would have been one thing for you to turn down a medical drama or something, but this was about demons. They asked for us specifically.”
“Oh,” Jin says again, feeling stupid.
It's like once Kame's started, he just can't stop. He's deliberately avoiding Jin's stare, staring down at his script again. “I didn't think you hated me enough to turn down a drama with demons.”
“I don't hate you,” Jin says yet again, completely horrified.
“Okay,” Kame replies. His face is pale and a little drawn, and he looks really tired all of a sudden.
“I'M SERIOUS,” Jin insists. He feels helpless, like there's nothing in the world he can do that will make Kame believe him. “Why would I bother lying??”
“I don't know,” Kame says. Jin hasn't seen Kame this self-conscious in years.
“I don't hate you...” Jin says again. “My manager turned down the role on my behalf.” He can tell Kame still doesn't believe him.
“Okay,” Kame mumbles. He looks sort of mortified.
“It's true,” Jin says. “I was complaining about your interviewing style on that baseball thing you do.”
“Going!?” Kame stares daggers at Jin. “What? What's wrong with it?”
“Just kidding,” Jin says. “I've never even watched it.”
He feels a rush of worry course through him as the words leave his mouth, but Kame just pauses for a moment, then breaks into sudden, helpless laughter.
“You never were all that fond of baseball,” he says at last, eyes warm when he glances back up at Jin.
--
Kame makes dinner. He's still wearing the apron from earlier, which he explains away as Pi's dumb idea of a joke. Apparently they'd found a whole box of things in the cupboard under the sink. Jin eats two servings of curry.
“Maybe you should go change,” Kame says, watching Jin shovel the last of the curry into his gaping mouth.
“Oh, right,” Jin says, but it comes out as a garbled mess, and he chokes on the mouthful of curry he's swallowing. He can feel his jeans sticking to his legs, and his hoodie is still damp and cold, especially around his neck. It feels like he's being strangled by a big, angry snake.
He grabs his duffel and makes his way into the same bedroom Pi and Kame had been in earlier, dropping the bag on the bed and pulling down the zip. Then he just stands there and stares. Josh had packed the duffel days before, making Jin promise not to peek. “You'll ruin the surprise,” he'd kept saying insistently. It's less that Jin had kept his promise, and more that he'd just forgotten about it completely, though. He regrets his choices now.
There's a tuxedo in the duffel, and that's all. There's a fake rose in the lapel. Jin picks up his phone and dials.
“Yo,” Josh says.
“I just found the tuxedo.” Jin's voice is a low whisper. He doesn't want Kame to overhear the conversation. Weirdest conversation to overhear, ever.
“Oh!” Josh sounds happy instead of guilty. “Awesome, man. You're gonna be a knock out.”
“I don't want to be a knock out,” Jin says desperately.
There's a short, confused pause. “I thought you wanted to look your best,” Josh says.
“I want to look good.” Jin has no idea why they're talking about fashion. “I can't wear a fucking tuxedo.”
“You'll look nice...” Josh trails off, confusion clouding his voice. “I've seen Kamenashi's CMs, he's really into suits.”
“Why the hell does it matter what Kamenashi likes?” Jin hisses.
The silence stretches out this time, until Josh breaks it. He still sounds confused, and even a little angry. “You know...”
“I DON'T KNOW,” Jin says.
Josh clears his throat. “I support your lifestyle choices,” he says, very, very awkwardly.
“I don't have any lifestyle choices.” Jin's gripping his phone so hard he thinks it might break; pressing it hard to his mouth and hissing into it. His voice sounds insane. He sounds like a Disney villain.
“But Kamenashi's... you know...” Josh says awkwardly. “Didn't he date Kimura Takuya?”
“NO,” Jin says, but he feels a hot rage flare up in him at the thought. “He's not good enough for him, what the fuck.”
“Who's not good enough for who?” Josh asks.
Jin makes a wordless sound of frustration, and he picks up the stupid tuxedo and stuffs it back into the duffel bag.
“You might not like the delivery I arranged for tomorrow,” Josh says. He sounds kind of guilty, but more confused than anything else.
“Delivery?”
“I thought I was helping,” Josh says miserably.
Jin kicks at the base of the Western-style bed in front of him. “And you used my credit card again, I bet.”
“I did not!” Josh sounds indignant. “I maxed yours out so I used Zen's.”
“Right,” Jin says. “That's fine, then.”
Jin stands there for five more minutes, staring at the suit and feeling more and more uncomfortable. He's been standing there so long that it seems really weird to just walk out of the room without changing, but he can't walk out wearing a tuxedo.
When Jin walks out of the room he's wearing the white dress shirt from the tuxedo, and a pair of Kame's jeans. It'd been Kame's stuff or the sleek black tuxedo pants. When Kame sees Jin, he stops for a moment and frowns. He's finally taken the apron off. His sweater is really ugly, but it looks really soft. It's probably really fashionable.
“Are those my jeans?”
“No,” Jin says, avoiding Kame's eyes. When he'd rifled through Kame's clothes all he'd found were flannel shirts and a crumpled staff shirt for Going!, and a few pairs of jeans. It's weird to see Kame packing so light.
“They look like my jeans,” Kame says, staring at Jin's legs.
When Jin had pulled the jeans on he'd expected to see a bedazzled mess, but Kame's jeans had been disappointingly normal. He expects Kame to pursue the topic, but he just gives Jin a look, then disappears into the bedroom. He emerges a second later, carrying Jin's damp clothes. This is why Jin needs Kame. Jin never thinks of putting wet clothes in the washing machine.
Jin sits on the floor again, next to the fire. He shuffles the Monopoly money together, dumping it into the box. It's really weird to see that old box again. It's all scuffed and old now, even though once upon a time it had been one of Kame's most prized possessions. These days Kame could probably afford to buy a million Monopoly sets, but he still carries around this beat up old thing. Jin doesn't want to think about what it means, that Kame is bad at letting go of things.
Jin had always thought he was pretty decent at being able to move on, but now, bit by bit, he's starting to realise that maybe he's not the person he thought he was. Maybe the things that are important to you when you're younger are never really forgotten, even if they're hidden for a while. Sometimes, thinking about Kame kind of scares him, because he's a flesh-and-blood reminder of the things that Jin doesn't want to think about. Stupid Kame, with his dumb, cutesy nickname and his obsession with baseball, and his determination to do what he loves, always.
Jin sits there and thinks of Okinawa, and matching jewellery, and practising harmonies with Kame for hours on end when they were just kids. He thinks of standing on stage with Kame, voices rising into one perfect, glittering note. He feels all choked up inside, like Kame's deliberately trying to suffocate him, up here in Hokkaido where no one can see.
He wakes up an hour later, with Kame's hand on his shoulder. His back is hot from the fire, and he feels all groggy and confused. Heat coma.
“You fell asleep,” Kame says, low, like he's talking to a baby bird.
Jin blinks sleepily. “Oh.”
When Kame grins, his cheeks puff out, like a happy chipmunk. Jin imagines Kame hates seeing photos of himself grinning this widely. He probably gets all weird and thinks he has a fat face, or something.
“C'mon sleepyhead, time for bed.” Kame straightens and grabs Jin's arm, tugging him up. His fingers circle Jin's wrist easily.
Jin stumbles to the bedroom, then stops and rubs his eyes with one hand, watching Kame turn back the bed. “You and Pi were sharing a bed?”
“Yeah,” Kame says, distracted. “There's only one bedroom.”
“You could have taken the couch,” Jin says snottily. He's still only half awake.
Kame just glances at him in fond amusement. “Nah, Pi and I are snugglebuddies.”
“He has a girlfriend,” Jin says stiffly, heart thumping hard in his chest. Kamenashi's an adulterer.
The sheets are turned back now, and Kame turns to Jin, staring at him incredulously. “I know.”
“This is just like what happened with Kimutaku,” Jin blurts out.
“He doesn't like being called Kimutaku.”
“He has kids!” Jin yells. Kame just keeps staring at him in incredulous bemusement.
“I know,” Kame says. “I've never slept with Kimura Takuya.”
“Oh,” Jin mumbles.
“He never offered,” Kame says, and by this point, Jin doesn't even know if he's kidding or not.
“I didn't know you were a 'homosexual',” Jin says carefully. He feels like he's treading on thin ice, standing here with Kame in this tiny bedroom, staring at him over the bed. Kame looks just as awkward as Jin feels.
“I don't believe in labels.” It's one of those ridiculous lines, but it's Kame all over.
“Well, it doesn't bother me. I know loads of homos.”
Kame just keeps staring at him. He looks so dumb in his big woollen sweater with his cheeks all flushed from the fire, dark eyes boring into Jin like they can see straight past all of his stupid words and right into the heart of him.
“Right,” Kame says at last. “Well, I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want.”
Jin feels injured, even though he knows Kame is just being Kame. “I'm not that sort of guy. We're still friends.”
“Okay,” Kame says. He grabs his pyjamas and disappears into the adjourning bathroom. When he emerges he's in a plain white shirt and faded pyjama pants, his hair mussed. He stands there and stares at Jin, who's wearing a pair of red, silk boxers that have hearts and the words SEXY THANG printed all over them. They're the ugliest thing Jin owns, and of course, the only underwear Josh packed.
“They were a joke present from a friend,” Jin says weakly, when Kame just keeps staring. He feels his cheeks turning hot with shame, but it's true. Kusano gave them to him as a Valentine's Day joke a few years ago, and Jin had stuffed them into the back of his drawer, where he assumed they'd never see the light of day again.
Kame keeps squinting at the boxers. Jin feels so exposed.
“What do they say?”
“SEXY THANG,” Jin says, in English.
“Sexy... thang,” Kame repeats. “What does it mean?”
Jin stares at him awkwardly. “You know....... sexy........... like...........a sexy man.” He meets Kame's eyes, mortification crawling down his spine, and almost stamps his foot when he sees Kame start to giggle. “I knew you knew what it meant! You're such an asshole.”
The bed shakes when Jin crawls onto it, all clumsy and inelegant, like a baby elephant. He stretches out on the left side of the bed, fingers tugging the blankets away from Kame when he grabs for them. “I need them more,” Jin explains when Kame raises an eyebrow.
“It's snowing outside,” Kame says, staring at Jin like he's a monster, hands already reaching out to pull the blankets back.
“I'm wearing less,” Jin counters, holding on tight. The blankets are pulled right up to his chin.
Kame huffs and tugs at the blankets. “It's not my fault you didn't pack any suitable clothing.”
When they fall asleep, it's with the blankets wrapped around Jin.
--
Jin wakes up with his face ends up pressed against Kame's neck, chin brushing the dip of his collarbone. He's glad it's dark, because he probably looks really stupid, with his nose all smushed flat against Kame's skin. If he was a girl he'd be thinking about how Kame smells. He can feel the tickle of Kame's hair against his cheek, and it reminds him of playing make believe as a kid, he and Kame squished tight into secret places at the Jimusho. Kame had always been sharp angles against him, all knobbly-kneed with his elbows sticking out in every direction, but now he's this solid, warm presence. Jin can feel the coiled tension in his arms.
“I know you're awake,” Kame mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. The blankets are draped over both of them now, and Kame's laying on Jin's arm. Jin couldn't escape even if he wanted to.
“Hurry up,” Kame says, breaking the silence in the room. His voice is a low, irritated little whine. Jin feels pathetically grateful for it.
“What?” Jin's voice doesn't break at all.
Kame's wriggles a little under him, pointedly. “Stop being weird and put your hand down. I can feel it, you know.”
“Shut up,” Jin mutters, but his hand comes down to rest on Kame's hip instead of awkwardly fluttering in the air above him like it had been doing ever since he woke up. He can feel the soft cotton of Kame's pyjama pants under his fingers, worn thin from too many spins in the washing machine. People always accuse Jin of keeping clothes too long, but they've never seen the stuff Kame wears when he's just chilling out.
“I'm cold,” Jin whines, just to fend off the awkward silence that threatens to descend on them. He tells himself that's why he says it anyway, and not because it urges Kame to make that tiny little frustrated noise again, his free arm sliding around Jin's waist and tugging him close. Jin feels shy, suddenly, like he wants to crawl inside himself and hide out there until all of this is over. He hates feeling this out of control. He's usually a smooth ladykiller. He's got moves.
“I can set you up with one of my friends if you want,” Jin blurts out, just as Kame's about to fall asleep. He mumbles the words against Kame's neck; hot breath ghosting over Kame's skin.
“Huh?”
“You know...” Jin supplies. “One of my gay friends...”
Kame shifts a little against him. “Seriously?” Jin wondered if he'd sound angry, but mostly he just sounds kind of amused.
“I guess...” Jin says.
“Like that friend of yours, Josh?”
“NO,” Jin says, horrified, fingers clutching at Kame's hip. “He's straight, what the hell.”
“I dunno,” Kame says. “I think I got a vibe from him.”
Jin wants to reel back in horror, but Kame's arm is tight around him.
“I don't know if you're kidding,” Jin says, “but that is disgusting.”
“Stop being such a homophobe.” Kame sounds kind of delighted. It's been years since he's had something good to tease Jin with. Jin's usually the one doing the annoying.
“I WAS SERIOUS,” Jin says, voice loud in the still room. “Some of my backdancers are gay.”
Kame's chest shakes under Jin, laughter trapped under the surface. “It's okay, not all of us have a fetish for Westerners.”
Jin should laugh, too, but instead, he just asks casually, “what do you have a fetish for, then?”
Kame stills under him, and Jin tightens his grip on Kame's hip, face still pressed against his neck, eyes squeezed shut.
“Jin,” Kame says, low, like a warning.
“I wanna know,” Jin mumbles.
Kame sighs under him, chest heaving, and he's quiet for a minute before he replies. “I don't know. They have to have a good heart. And a strong presence.”
“Oh,” Jin says.
“I like someone with a good voice. Like Higashiyama-senpai,” Kame adds, laughter creeping in through his voice. Jin pinches his hip, hard, and Kame yells aloud.
“You scream like a girl,” Jin says cruelly.
They lay there, Kame's chest rising and falling under Jin. 'This is your moment, Akanishi,' a little voice in Jin's head keeps saying; a tiny broken record. Jin tugs pliant, sleepy Kame a little closer, and brushes his lips against Kame's neck. He presses a dry kiss against Kame's skin, his lips parting. Kame tastes like salt, but mostly like dry, warm skin. Kame goes still under him.
“Did you just lick me?” Kame asks, his voice all weird and high.
“Maybe,” Jin tries. He runs his foot up Kame's leg, and presses another kiss to his neck, then one more, just above his collarbone. “Did you like it, baby?”
“No,” Kame says in a strangled little voice.
“Sure you did,” Jin murmurs, mouthing at Kame's jaw. He releases his grip on Kame's hip and slides his hand across Kame's belly, skin tensing under his wandering fingers. Then Kame punches him hard in the thigh and he screams and reels back, arms windmilling as he topples out of the bed, taking the blankets with him. When Jin opens his eyes, it's from his new position on the floor, tangled in a heap of blankets, clutching his leg.
“What the FUCK?” he moans, staring up at Kame's dark silhouette with wide, hurt eyes.
Kame's peering over the edge of the bed, and he looks pissed.
“What the fuck,” Jin moans again, scrabbling at the blankets enveloping him. “Why did you do that?”
“You're being an asshole,” Kame says, voice perfectly level. Kame's always angriest when he's the most calm. There are high, bright spots of colour on his cheeks.
Jin just keeps staring up at him. “I am not,” he says pathetically. “I'm being assertive.”
Kame just stares at him in disbelief. “Five minutes ago you were trying to set me up with your army of gay backdancers.”
“I wasn't serious,” Jin says lamely. “I was just trying to be supportive.” He crawls to the side of the bed, then props himself up on it when Kame flops back on the mattress.
“I don't understand anything that's happening right now,” Kame mutters. Jin wants to point out that talking to yourself is supposedly the first sign of being crazy, but it doesn't really seem like a good time.
“I'm romancing you,” Jin says, face growing hot again when Kame turns his head to the side and stares at him.
“Seriously??” Kame asks, voice hard and flat. Jin feels dread pool in the pit of his stomach.
“Maybe,” Jin mutters, then at Kame's incredulous look, “I mean, probably. Yeah.”
Kame just rolls his eyes and turns onto his side, back facing Jin.
“Sorry,” Jin manages, trying to climb back onto the bed in a way that doesn't make any noise, and doesn't make the bed shake. He doesn't succeed, and the line of Kame's back just grows angrier and tenser as Jin watches.
“Whatever,” Kame says.
Jin tugs the blankets up from the floor and throws them over Kame. Now he's an angry little lump under a mound of blankets.
“Sorry,” Jin says again. Kame doesn't answer. It's cold in the room, and Jin isn't wearing a shirt. Goosebumps break out on his arms and he shivers a little, then snuffles noisily. He's never coped well with cold weather.
“Are you crying?” Kame asks from under the heap of blankets. He doesn't turn to face Jin, but Jin can tell he's concerned. Kame worries about everyone. He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again, considering.
“Maybe,” Jin says, in a small, pathetic little voice.
Kame turns over, a lump of shifting blankets with his head peeping out. He looks like a turtle. “You're not crying,” he says, face blank and not even a little bit amused.
“I could have been,” Jin mutters. He feels exposed like this, with Kame the turtle staring at him.
Kame looks miserable suddenly. “I don't know why you have to be such an asshole all the time.”
“I'm not,” Jin says, his voice escaping as a whisper from his suddenly choked up throat. Now he really does feel like he's going to cry, just like a baby.
Kame just sighs, eyes closing halfway as his cheek presses against the mattress.
“I have a good voice,” Jin says sadly.
“I guess so,” Kame says, eyes boring into Jin. Jin can't make himself look away.
“I have a strong presence,” Jin tries.
Kame smirks a little at that, but only faintly.
Jin clears his throat, and reaches out, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket, right by Kame's cheek. “I have a good heart,” he says, but it sounds more like a question than a statement. He feels suddenly, desperately needy somehow, like at this moment he needs Kame to agree with him more than anything else in the world. Once upon a time, Kame's opinion meant more to Jin than anyone's because he was one of the best people Jin knew. Kame thinking that Jin was a bad person felt like more of a condemnation than anything else ever could; all of the hate mail and yarakashi put together.
“You have a good heart,” Kame repeats softly, voice just a little sad.
“Okay,” Jin says, and his fingers twist tightly in the blankets. He feels wound up too tight, like a clock. He pictures himself bursting open and springs flying everywhere. He feels suddenly, horribly bold.
“Then why don't you want me?” he hears himself ask.
Kame's eyes go all soft, face miserable as he stares at Jin. He rolls over suddenly and sits up, hand reaching out to turn on the lamp by the bed. The room is flooded with light and Jin recoils in horror, voice high pitched as he cries out.
“DON'T TURN ON THE LIGHT.”
Kame stares at him like he's insane. “Why?”
Jin rolls over, back to Kame as he turns his head, burying it in the pillow. “I can't do this if you turn on the light.”
“Okay,” Kame says after a slight pause, voice measured as the room descends into darkness again. “I think we should talk about this.”
“About what?” Jin asks, his voice a mortified whisper.
“About... your feelings,” Kame says. Jin can feel the bed moving as Kame shuffles over, then he can feel Kame's hand on his arm. “We need to talk about this like adults.”
“I don't want to,” Jin mumbles.
Kame pauses again. “Sometimes... when we've known someone for a long time, we can get a little bit confused...”
“Stop,” Jin moans, mortified, but Kame barrels on.
“It's easy to confuse friendship for something more,” Kame says.
Jin sits up in the dark, even though he can't really see Kame; the moonlight that was peeking through the window earlier has disappeared. “I've loved you for ten years,” Jin says wildly, even though he doesn't know if it's true.
Kame makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. Jin feels wild and free and careless, throwing caution and sense to the wind.
“I think you're my soulmate,” Jin says, grabbing for Kame's hand in the darkness, but only coming up with a handful of blanket.
“You're being stupid,” Kame says in a tiny voice. It's unfair. Kame's the sort of guy who loves shit like this.
“I'm totally obsessed with you,” Jin tries.
Kame just sounds angry now. “Then why didn't you say something sooner?”
Jin doesn't really have an answer, other than that he's kind of clueless. He doesn't think it'll fly. “I don't know,” he says instead, lamely. “I didn't realise I had a chance.”
It's only a little bit a lie. Jin's known Kame for so long that moving him to the sexy part of his brain never seemed like an option. He hadn't even know that he'd wanted it so badly.
Kame sounds doubtful, but a little mollified when he next speaks. “Maybe,” he says, instead of a real answer.
“Like, if I met you now,” Jin says, gaining confidence, “at a club or whatever, you wouldn't give me a second look. You're totally out of my league.” He only believes it a little bit, even though it's kind of true.
“I'd give you a second look,” Kame says.
Jin's insides squirm around and he fists his hands in the sheets under him. “Really?” He'd wanted Kame to protest and tell Jin that he was totally hot, but this is almost better.
“Yes, stupid,” Kame says, exasperated.
“Okay,” Jin mutters, “but that's for, like, a one night stand.”
“I guess so...” Kame says, long and drawn out, like he can't quite understand what Jin's trying to get at.
“I want you to think I have a good heart,” Jin says lamely.
The rustle of blankets tell Jin that Kame's shifting in place, probably uncomfortably. “I told you,” Kame says, sounding just a little exasperated. “I do think you have a good heart.”
“Then why don't you want me?” Jin asks again. He's filled with a sudden flood of self-conscious angst. “Is it because you've known me for so long?”
“It's because I've known you for so long that I know you have a good heart,” Kame says patiently. Kame's probably the best person to have this sort of conversation with, because he can't stand it when Jin is miserable, even when he's angry with him.
“Weeeeeellllllllllll,” Jin says, drawing out the word.
Kame sighs. “I don't think you've thought this through.”
Jin grabs for Kame again, and his hand lands on Kame's arm this time. He squeezes hard. “I'm not some flake,” he says, just a little hurt.
Kame tries to tug his arm away, but Jin's holding on tight. “Jin,” he says, exasperation evident in his tone. “I don't think you're a flake, I just don't think you're into... like... guys.”
“Oh,” Jin says. If he squints he can make out the pale blur of Kame's face in the dark, very close. “You're not that different to a girl.”
Kame tenses again. It's unfair, no one appreciates Jin's humour. “I'm pretty different. You're not even attracted to me.”
“Hey,” Jin says. He feels lame, even before the next words leave his mouth. “I'm attracted to your stupid soul.”
“My soul,” Kame repeats.
“Yeah...” Jin's cheeks are still burning red. He's so glad it's dark. He could never have had this talk in the daylight. Kame must be thinking along the same lines, because he clears his throat before he speaks again.
“If you say it at 3am it doesn't count.”
“What?” Jin feels outraged, even through his embarrassment. “It does so count.”
Kame flops on the bed and Jin's grip falters. He grabs at useless, empty space.
“Tell me in the morning,” Kame says, “and then again in a month, and maybe I'll believe it.”
“This is bullshit,” Jin whines. He feels like a kid being placated.
Kame reaches out and slides his fingers into Jin's hand. He's always had these short, stubby little fingers. They're so ugly. Kame would kill to have the hands of a pianist, but it was never meant to be. It makes Kame better, somehow. His imperfections make him real.
“I like you,” Jin whispers into the night, and his heart swells a little at the feel of Kame's grip tightening in his own. He can say it a million times, until Kame believes.
--
“What are you doing?” Kame asks when he wanders out in the morning to find Jin desperately trying to stuff 100 red roses into the trash. Jin freezes, the card in his hand feeling like a red hot ember.
The delivery had come early that morning. Jin had opened the door to find a harassed-looking courier holding a giant basket of flowers. “For 'the happy couple'?” he'd asked, staring straight into Jin's bright red face. Jin remembers staring at him and hoping that he had no idea who Jin was. How awkward.
“Right,” Jin had said, allowing the basket to be shoved into his waiting arms. He'd put them down on the table and stared at them for a full minute. Fucking Josh. The card had been the worst part.
“Kazu-chan,” it had read, in a sickeningly pink shade of ink. “How I long for you to be mine. My dreams are of no other. It was always you. You are fucking hot and I want to bone you. - your Jin.”
The last part had been in English. The whole thing has Josh's name all over it. The only thing that made Jin feel better about the whole mess was imagining Josh having to ring up and repeat the message to some poor florist. Jin had stared and stared at the basket, and had thought, I can't let Kame see this. Somehow all the things he'd said last night just make him feel shy today. If Kame sees a giant basket of roses and the creepiest card in the world, he's going to think Jin's some kind of stalker freak.
With Kame standing in the doorway now, eyes wide and incredulous, Jin does the only thing he can think of. He stuffs the card into his mouth.
“I think some stalker sent them for Yamapi,” he says, letting the thin cardboard start to dissolve on his tongue. His jaw works furiously. He pretends it's totally normal, gnawing psychotically on a card. “You know how fans get. They're fucking nuts.”
“Right,” Kame says, still staring at the beheaded roses. He looks sleepy and rumpled, and kind of adorable. His hair is sticking up on one side.
“Here,” Jin says on impulse, crossing the room and shoving the head of a rose into Kame's palm. The petals fall off as he does so. They both stare down at it. It looks sort of pathetic. “It's pretty... like you...” he tries, lamely.
Kame just stares at him. He probably thinks Jin has had some sort of mental break. “Thanks,” he says at last, but Jin can kind of tell he's pleased, because Kame's cheeks are flushed an unflattering red, and his fingertips keep brushing the velvety petals in his palm.
“No problem,” Jin manages. Maybe Josh isn't so bad after all.
--
It takes an embarrassingly long time for the two of them to realise they have no way to get back to the airport.
“Pi, that dick,” Jin says, staring out at the empty driveway. Kame's big rental car is gone, fluffy dice and all.
Kame ignores the insult. “We'll have to call a taxi or something.” He looks like he doesn't care, but Jin can tell from the set of his mouth that he's thinking dumb, worried thoughts about the rental car. He probably thinks Pi has dumped it outside the airport or something. He bets the second he leaves the room, Kame will be on the phone to the rental company, confirming that the car was dropped back. Kame's good at the responsible, boring stuff that never seems to stick properly in Jin's mind.
Jin's phone buzzes then, and when he fishes it out he sees another text from Josh.
大丈夫？? u tap that? ボーイフレンド?（笑）
“It's Josh,” he says, meeting Kame's curious look. “He wants to meet my boyfriend again.”
Kame's silent for a long minute, his eyes round like a terrified horse. Jin feels giddy and delighted. He's not sure if he's being annoying or persistent. Maybe both.
“Right,” he says at last, his mouth a thin line. He looks like he wants to yell at Jin, even though his fingers are still molesting the petals still in his palm.
“What should I tell him?” Jin asks. He clutches his iphone tightly. He's a cool and casual guy.
Kame's silent again for a long while before he finally opens his mouth to speak. “Tell him we can have dinner or something,” he says at last, grudgingly.
Jin feels a spark of hope light up in his chest, like a flower slowly unfurling after the cold. When he glances at Kame he sees Kame's lips tilted up a little at the corners. A smiling Kame is a good Kame. When the taxi pulls up in front of the cabin and they slide into it, Kame lets Jin hold his hand in the back seat, all the way to the airport.
--
“Hi,” Yamapi says, and Jin tumbles off his makeshift seat in surprise, face smashing into the snow. It's not like it matters much; the duffel he was sitting on is already soaked through, and his pants feel all wet and cold and uncomfortable. Yamapi looks warm and dry, though, and he's wearing a big grin. It only took him five minutes to find Jin.
“What the hell,” Jin says blankly, snow threatening to creep in under his collar.
It turns out that Jin was really close to the cabin, which is hidden behind a nearby clump of trees. There's a road on the other side, a narrow track that leads back to the main highway. A big black SUV is parked beside it, fluffy dice hanging from the rear vision mirror.
“It's a rental,” Pi explains when he catches Jin looking at it. “Kame picked it out.”
Of course Kame picked it out. Part of Kame would have wanted to go with the green, environmentally friendly option, but another part would have been too tempted by the big, black, kakkoii car with its cute hanging dice.
“What a gas guzzler,” Jin says meanly, before he can stop himself. “Way to look after our world's natural resources.”
Yamapi gives him a look, but it's more fond than irritated. Yamapi has had a long time to get used to Jin. He walks right up to the door of the cabin and opens it, holding the door for Jin to step through.
Jin pauses, just for a moment, then takes a bold step inside. He feels suddenly, intensely uncomfortable, as if he's crashing someone's honeymoon.
“Hi,” Kame says, staring at Jin. He looks kind of awkward, like he doesn't know what to say exactly.
“Hi,” Jin replies. He drops his duffel on the floor. It makes a wet, slapping sound, and Kame winces a little.
“What are you doing here?” Kame asks, very casually. He's wearing a dumb flowery apron over a thick woollen sweater. He looks warm.
All of Jin's carefully constructed insults and accusations seem to disintegrate under his reaching hands. Suddenly, the thought of opening his mouth and telling Kame that the extra ticket was for Jin, not Pi, seems horrifying. Horrifying and embarrassing.
“Nothing much,” Jin says. “Tomo invited me.”
Kame turns to stare at Yamapi, who looks just as confused as Kame does. “Right,” Pi says. This is why he'll always be one of Jin's best friends. “I must have forgotten to mention that.”
“Yeah...” Kame says slowly, still staring at Yamapi. His eyes are all tiny and suspicious. There's a Monopoly game on the floor in front of the nearby fire, tiny hotels lined up along one side of the board.
“Kame's winning,” Yamapi says, breaking the silence that's threatening to stretch out. “Kame always wins.”
Kame drops to his knees beside the board and straightens one of the hotels. “That's because you're stingy. You have to actually buy properties, you know.”
Jin can remember a million nights like this one; sleepovers the three of them had as kids, playing dumb board games and stuffing their faces with junk food. They always played with the set that's in front of Kame and Pi now. Jin hadn't even known that Kame still had it. It'd been a gift from Takki, who'd won tiny Kamenashi Kazuya over with the shiny new British-edition Monopoly set. They'd all thought they were so cool. Board game rebels, playing late into the night. Then they'd grown up, and swapped Monopoly for girls and parties. Jin hadn't known board games were in style again. Everything comes full circle in the end.
“You can play if you want,” Kame says now, not meeting Jin's eyes as he shakes out the tiny silver dog. “We can start a new game. Pi lost ages ago, anyway, he's like, a hundred million yen in debt to me.”
Jin takes a careful seat on the floor, legs tucked up under him. He feels a little like a grumpy snowman, all soggy and squished up, hoodie bunched around his neck. “I don't really want the dog,” he says.
Yamapi and Kame both stare at him.
“You always have the dog,” Yamapi says, voice matter-of-fact. When they were younger, Jin would snatch the dog up first, and Kame took the hat, and Pi grabbed for the ship.
Jin shifts awkwardly in place. “People change.”
Sometimes it's like there's this big steel wall inside of Jin that slams down and refuses to move, stubbornly remaining in place. It doesn't let him move past things, and it makes things awkward, and it doesn't let him have any fun. It makes his stomach twist up until he feels sick. 'If I were a better person,' he thinks, 'I'd have found a way to enjoy playing Monopoly.' Instead of having fun, Jin is just sitting there in a wet pile, being a total bitch. It's gotten to the point where he doesn't even know why he's still fighting. Jin really wants to snatch up the tiny silver dog and cradle it in his palm.
“Uh huh,” Yamapi's saying dubiously as Jin's phone buzzes in his pocket. He reaches in and scoops it out. It's Josh again.
what ru doin? 今どう？？？
Twenty seconds after Jin's replied, his phone vibrates again.
マジでwtf y is YamaP still there? なんだよ？？ kick him out ばか
Jin's still staring at it when another message pops up in a deceptively cheerful speech bubble. まかせてok ill handel it
The next second, Jin sees Yamapi reach into his own pocket, and pull out his phone. He stares at it for a moment, then his eyes shift to the side.
“Excuse me,” he says, voice all weird. “I've just remembered that I have an appointment in Tokyo.”
“What?” Kame says, his voice rising to an indignant little squawk. It's really unflattering. “You never mentioned any appointment.”
“It's really important,” Pi replies. He stands up; body wooden and awkward, moving like some sort of puppet. These are his acting skills.
Jin sits there like a giant lump, even as he feels an ugly, uncomfortable flush crawling up the back of his neck. He knows that Josh mailed Yamapi. Just knows it, deep in his bones.
Kame just keeps sitting there on the floor in his floral apron, staring up at Yamapi. When he speaks again, his voice is calm and steady, but Jin can see glimpses of psycho Kame underneath his cool exterior. Kame is mad.
“I'd like to see you in the next room,” Kame says, eyes burning into Yamapi; hot little coals in his pale face.
“Hey,” Jin says lamely. Pi and Kame both turn to look at him, which makes him feel even lamer. He can feel the snow melting on his clothing; cold water starting to trickle down his neck. It feels like an apt representation of what his life has become. He's just this big loser, sitting in a cabin in the midst of the most awkward silence on earth.
“Now, please,” Kame says, turning back to Pi. When he stands up and disappears through the door at the other end of the room, Pi slowly trails after him, head hanging miserably as he casts a desperate glance back at Jin. Jin pretends not to notice it, even as he can feel his ears turning red. It he doesn't acknowledge it, he can pretend it's not happening.
fixt ur love life, ur welcome 俺さいこだから Josh sends. Jin stares down at his phone and feels like he's gonna puke all over the dumb Monopoly board. Josh is illiterate in English and Japanese both. He wonders what Josh said to Pi, exactly. What if Pi thinks he and Kame are dating?? What if he thinks they're involved in some big gay drama. From the next room Jin can hear muffled yelling, and a thump or two. He imagines the two of them emerging with black eyes and bruised fists, Yamapi fighting for Jin's honour. His thoughts are interrupted when the door squeaks, then opens, Kame stepping through first with his face a perfect, blank mask.
“I'll see you guys back in Tokyo,” Yamapi's saying as he steps out after Kame.
All Jin can feel is this slow panic churning in his gut, and it only gets worse when Kame just nods stiffly.
“Later,” Kame says, super casual. He sits back down on the floor, in the same place he was sitting before, and carefully starts arranging the little houses and hotels. Jin just stares at Yamapi, who's already gathering his bags.
Ten minutes later, Yamapi is gone, the only sign that he'd even been there at all the little overturned ship on the board in front of Jin. Kame's just been sitting there, the Monopoly dice clutched tight in his hand.
“Your turn,” Jin says, staring down at the neat little piles of money that Kame's collected. His own cash is stacked in messy heaps. He's never really had a strategy for Monopoly; he just tends to buy every property he lands on. He likes buying the railroads, but he also has a soft spot for the really expensive properties. They make him feel like a rich gentleman.
Kame rolls the dice, then slides his little top hat along the board, landing on a Community Chest square. He plucks a card from the stack. His forehead creases in a frown.
Kame's Monopoly set had always been really cool, but everything had been in English. Whenever they'd had to read a Chance or Community Chest card they'd always just made it up. Jin's sent Pi to jail a million times for being the ugliest person in the room.
“Let me,” Jin says now, snatching the card from Kame's uncertain grip.
“I could have done it,” Kame says uncertainly, but he looks kind of happy that he doesn't have to stumble through the awkward English words.
“You have won second prize in a beauty contest,” Jin says. “Collect $10.”
The two of them sit there for a second before Kame picks up his money from the bank.
“You've been underpaid,” Jin says desperately. “You're an Eternal Jeanist. You should have demanded more.”
Kame pauses, then ducks his head and grins. Jin can see his eyes lighting up under his eyelashes. He shouldn't notice these things; sometimes it's like he's a big, dumb girl. “I didn't want to disappoint my fans,” Kame says, solemnly. “They were counting on seeing me there at that beauty contest. Some of them waited all day.”
They always joked about their burgeoning fame as kids, and it's still funny now, even though it's more fact than joke.
--
Later in the evening, when the cabin is dark, Jin realises that it's really fucking cold, even though there's a fire roaring in the grate. He says as much to Kame, who's still in his ugly apron, laying on his stomach on the floor. He's flipping through one of his Supernatural scripts, Jin thinks. He hasn't mentioned the drama to Jin at all.
“It's been like that since we got here,” Kame says when Jin points out the temperature of the room. “Whoever booked the cabin didn't really look into it too well...”
“Josh booked the cabin,” Jin says, feeling oddly defensive. He doesn't like it when people insult his friends, even when his friends are giant American douchebags.
“Oh.” Kame glances up from the script, hair falling into his eyes. “Really? Who does he work for? One of the sponsors for the drama? I figured someone just gave them to him to pass on.”
Jin pauses, then barrels on, weird embarrassment making his voice come out all thick and awkward sounding. “I dunno. Yeah. A sponsor.” Somehow, the idea of Kame knowing that Josh was trying to fix their broken friendship is more than Jin can take.
Kame turns back to the script. His lips move as he traces each line with his eyes, fingertips tapping on the floor beside him.
“Wanna run some lines?” Jin asks. It just comes out of his mouth. He doesn't even know why he asks. It's just, for a moment there, things kind of felt like old times.
Kame's head snaps up, eyes wide and surprised as he stares at Jin, and maybe a little suspicious. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, sure...” Jin's starting to feel oddly defensive. “Why not?”
Kame raises one eyebrow. He should look like a bitch, but mostly he just looks confused. To Jin, anyway.
“What?” Jin complains. He's starting to feel pretty confused himself. Confused and a little angry. “All of a sudden I'm not good enough to run lines with?”
“You're good enough,” Kame says at last, giving in a little.
“What, then?????” Jin demands.
Kame flips shut the script and clears his throat. He looks really awkward all of a sudden, and really distant. Jin has no idea what's going on inside his head.
“WHAT?” Jin demands again, even though he's not sure if he wants to know what it is that's turning Kame into this weird, hesitant guy.
“I thought you'd be more annoyed about the drama,” Kame says at last. “Or that you'd hate it, or something. I don't know.”
Jin can kind of see why; he's never reacted well to Kame and Pi playing opposite each other. It always feels like a slight when someone steals Kame's attention away. For a while, when they were kids, Jin had spent a few months despising baseball. Kame had been so upset when he'd found out, and he'd spent weeks and weeks desperately quoting cool baseball facts to Jin. He'd even given Jin his favourite player card.
“I don't hate it,” Jin says.
Kame frowns. “I saw you on set and you just ignored me, it was like I didn't even exist.”
“I didn't ignore you,” Jin says, mouth falling open in horror. “And I don't hate you. I have no idea why you'd think that.”
There's a pause, almost like Kame's gathering the strength to go on, and when he speaks the words tumble out, almost like he can't stand keeping them bottled up anymore.
“Maybe,” Kame says stiffly, “It's because you turned down the role.”
“Oh,” Jin says.
Kame looks away. “It would have been one thing for you to turn down a medical drama or something, but this was about demons. They asked for us specifically.”
“Oh,” Jin says again, feeling stupid.
It's like once Kame's started, he just can't stop. He's deliberately avoiding Jin's stare, staring down at his script again. “I didn't think you hated me enough to turn down a drama with demons.”
“I don't hate you,” Jin says yet again, completely horrified.
“Okay,” Kame replies. His face is pale and a little drawn, and he looks really tired all of a sudden.
“I'M SERIOUS,” Jin insists. He feels helpless, like there's nothing in the world he can do that will make Kame believe him. “Why would I bother lying??”
“I don't know,” Kame says. Jin hasn't seen Kame this self-conscious in years.
“I don't hate you...” Jin says again. “My manager turned down the role on my behalf.” He can tell Kame still doesn't believe him.
“Okay,” Kame mumbles. He looks sort of mortified.
“It's true,” Jin says. “I was complaining about your interviewing style on that baseball thing you do.”
“Going!?” Kame stares daggers at Jin. “What? What's wrong with it?”
“Just kidding,” Jin says. “I've never even watched it.”
He feels a rush of worry course through him as the words leave his mouth, but Kame just pauses for a moment, then breaks into sudden, helpless laughter.
“You never were all that fond of baseball,” he says at last, eyes warm when he glances back up at Jin.
--
Kame makes dinner. He's still wearing the apron from earlier, which he explains away as Pi's dumb idea of a joke. Apparently they'd found a whole box of things in the cupboard under the sink. Jin eats two servings of curry.
“Maybe you should go change,” Kame says, watching Jin shovel the last of the curry into his gaping mouth.
“Oh, right,” Jin says, but it comes out as a garbled mess, and he chokes on the mouthful of curry he's swallowing. He can feel his jeans sticking to his legs, and his hoodie is still damp and cold, especially around his neck. It feels like he's being strangled by a big, angry snake.
He grabs his duffel and makes his way into the same bedroom Pi and Kame had been in earlier, dropping the bag on the bed and pulling down the zip. Then he just stands there and stares. Josh had packed the duffel days before, making Jin promise not to peek. “You'll ruin the surprise,” he'd kept saying insistently. It's less that Jin had kept his promise, and more that he'd just forgotten about it completely, though. He regrets his choices now.
There's a tuxedo in the duffel, and that's all. There's a fake rose in the lapel. Jin picks up his phone and dials.
“Yo,” Josh says.
“I just found the tuxedo.” Jin's voice is a low whisper. He doesn't want Kame to overhear the conversation. Weirdest conversation to overhear, ever.
“Oh!” Josh sounds happy instead of guilty. “Awesome, man. You're gonna be a knock out.”
“I don't want to be a knock out,” Jin says desperately.
There's a short, confused pause. “I thought you wanted to look your best,” Josh says.
“I want to look good.” Jin has no idea why they're talking about fashion. “I can't wear a fucking tuxedo.”
“You'll look nice...” Josh trails off, confusion clouding his voice. “I've seen Kamenashi's CMs, he's really into suits.”
“Why the hell does it matter what Kamenashi likes?” Jin hisses.
The silence stretches out this time, until Josh breaks it. He still sounds confused, and even a little angry. “You know...”
“I DON'T KNOW,” Jin says.
Josh clears his throat. “I support your lifestyle choices,” he says, very, very awkwardly.
“I don't have any lifestyle choices.” Jin's gripping his phone so hard he thinks it might break; pressing it hard to his mouth and hissing into it. His voice sounds insane. He sounds like a Disney villain.
“But Kamenashi's... you know...” Josh says awkwardly. “Didn't he date Kimura Takuya?”
“NO,” Jin says, but he feels a hot rage flare up in him at the thought. “He's not good enough for him, what the fuck.”
“Who's not good enough for who?” Josh asks.
Jin makes a wordless sound of frustration, and he picks up the stupid tuxedo and stuffs it back into the duffel bag.
“You might not like the delivery I arranged for tomorrow,” Josh says. He sounds kind of guilty, but more confused than anything else.
“Delivery?”
“I thought I was helping,” Josh says miserably.
Jin kicks at the base of the Western-style bed in front of him. “And you used my credit card again, I bet.”
“I did not!” Josh sounds indignant. “I maxed yours out so I used Zen's.”
“Right,” Jin says. “That's fine, then.”
Jin stands there for five more minutes, staring at the suit and feeling more and more uncomfortable. He's been standing there so long that it seems really weird to just walk out of the room without changing, but he can't walk out wearing a tuxedo.
When Jin walks out of the room he's wearing the white dress shirt from the tuxedo, and a pair of Kame's jeans. It'd been Kame's stuff or the sleek black tuxedo pants. When Kame sees Jin, he stops for a moment and frowns. He's finally taken the apron off. His sweater is really ugly, but it looks really soft. It's probably really fashionable.
“Are those my jeans?”
“No,” Jin says, avoiding Kame's eyes. When he'd rifled through Kame's clothes all he'd found were flannel shirts and a crumpled staff shirt for Going!, and a few pairs of jeans. It's weird to see Kame packing so light.
“They look like my jeans,” Kame says, staring at Jin's legs.
When Jin had pulled the jeans on he'd expected to see a bedazzled mess, but Kame's jeans had been disappointingly normal. He expects Kame to pursue the topic, but he just gives Jin a look, then disappears into the bedroom. He emerges a second later, carrying Jin's damp clothes. This is why Jin needs Kame. Jin never thinks of putting wet clothes in the washing machine.
Jin sits on the floor again, next to the fire. He shuffles the Monopoly money together, dumping it into the box. It's really weird to see that old box again. It's all scuffed and old now, even though once upon a time it had been one of Kame's most prized possessions. These days Kame could probably afford to buy a million Monopoly sets, but he still carries around this beat up old thing. Jin doesn't want to think about what it means, that Kame is bad at letting go of things.
Jin had always thought he was pretty decent at being able to move on, but now, bit by bit, he's starting to realise that maybe he's not the person he thought he was. Maybe the things that are important to you when you're younger are never really forgotten, even if they're hidden for a while. Sometimes, thinking about Kame kind of scares him, because he's a flesh-and-blood reminder of the things that Jin doesn't want to think about. Stupid Kame, with his dumb, cutesy nickname and his obsession with baseball, and his determination to do what he loves, always.
Jin sits there and thinks of Okinawa, and matching jewellery, and practising harmonies with Kame for hours on end when they were just kids. He thinks of standing on stage with Kame, voices rising into one perfect, glittering note. He feels all choked up inside, like Kame's deliberately trying to suffocate him, up here in Hokkaido where no one can see.
He wakes up an hour later, with Kame's hand on his shoulder. His back is hot from the fire, and he feels all groggy and confused. Heat coma.
“You fell asleep,” Kame says, low, like he's talking to a baby bird.
Jin blinks sleepily. “Oh.”
When Kame grins, his cheeks puff out, like a happy chipmunk. Jin imagines Kame hates seeing photos of himself grinning this widely. He probably gets all weird and thinks he has a fat face, or something.
“C'mon sleepyhead, time for bed.” Kame straightens and grabs Jin's arm, tugging him up. His fingers circle Jin's wrist easily.
Jin stumbles to the bedroom, then stops and rubs his eyes with one hand, watching Kame turn back the bed. “You and Pi were sharing a bed?”
“Yeah,” Kame says, distracted. “There's only one bedroom.”
“You could have taken the couch,” Jin says snottily. He's still only half awake.
Kame just glances at him in fond amusement. “Nah, Pi and I are snugglebuddies.”
“He has a girlfriend,” Jin says stiffly, heart thumping hard in his chest. Kamenashi's an adulterer.
The sheets are turned back now, and Kame turns to Jin, staring at him incredulously. “I know.”
“This is just like what happened with Kimutaku,” Jin blurts out.
“He doesn't like being called Kimutaku.”
“He has kids!” Jin yells. Kame just keeps staring at him in incredulous bemusement.
“I know,” Kame says. “I've never slept with Kimura Takuya.”
“Oh,” Jin mumbles.
“He never offered,” Kame says, and by this point, Jin doesn't even know if he's kidding or not.
“I didn't know you were a 'homosexual',” Jin says carefully. He feels like he's treading on thin ice, standing here with Kame in this tiny bedroom, staring at him over the bed. Kame looks just as awkward as Jin feels.
“I don't believe in labels.” It's one of those ridiculous lines, but it's Kame all over.
“Well, it doesn't bother me. I know loads of homos.”
Kame just keeps staring at him. He looks so dumb in his big woollen sweater with his cheeks all flushed from the fire, dark eyes boring into Jin like they can see straight past all of his stupid words and right into the heart of him.
“Right,” Kame says at last. “Well, I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want.”
Jin feels injured, even though he knows Kame is just being Kame. “I'm not that sort of guy. We're still friends.”
“Okay,” Kame says. He grabs his pyjamas and disappears into the adjourning bathroom. When he emerges he's in a plain white shirt and faded pyjama pants, his hair mussed. He stands there and stares at Jin, who's wearing a pair of red, silk boxers that have hearts and the words SEXY THANG printed all over them. They're the ugliest thing Jin owns, and of course, the only underwear Josh packed.
“They were a joke present from a friend,” Jin says weakly, when Kame just keeps staring. He feels his cheeks turning hot with shame, but it's true. Kusano gave them to him as a Valentine's Day joke a few years ago, and Jin had stuffed them into the back of his drawer, where he assumed they'd never see the light of day again.
Kame keeps squinting at the boxers. Jin feels so exposed.
“What do they say?”
“SEXY THANG,” Jin says, in English.
“Sexy... thang,” Kame repeats. “What does it mean?”
Jin stares at him awkwardly. “You know....... sexy........... like...........a sexy man.” He meets Kame's eyes, mortification crawling down his spine, and almost stamps his foot when he sees Kame start to giggle. “I knew you knew what it meant! You're such an asshole.”
The bed shakes when Jin crawls onto it, all clumsy and inelegant, like a baby elephant. He stretches out on the left side of the bed, fingers tugging the blankets away from Kame when he grabs for them. “I need them more,” Jin explains when Kame raises an eyebrow.
“It's snowing outside,” Kame says, staring at Jin like he's a monster, hands already reaching out to pull the blankets back.
“I'm wearing less,” Jin counters, holding on tight. The blankets are pulled right up to his chin.
Kame huffs and tugs at the blankets. “It's not my fault you didn't pack any suitable clothing.”
When they fall asleep, it's with the blankets wrapped around Jin.
--
Jin wakes up with his face ends up pressed against Kame's neck, chin brushing the dip of his collarbone. He's glad it's dark, because he probably looks really stupid, with his nose all smushed flat against Kame's skin. If he was a girl he'd be thinking about how Kame smells. He can feel the tickle of Kame's hair against his cheek, and it reminds him of playing make believe as a kid, he and Kame squished tight into secret places at the Jimusho. Kame had always been sharp angles against him, all knobbly-kneed with his elbows sticking out in every direction, but now he's this solid, warm presence. Jin can feel the coiled tension in his arms.
“I know you're awake,” Kame mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. The blankets are draped over both of them now, and Kame's laying on Jin's arm. Jin couldn't escape even if he wanted to.
“Hurry up,” Kame says, breaking the silence in the room. His voice is a low, irritated little whine. Jin feels pathetically grateful for it.
“What?” Jin's voice doesn't break at all.
Kame's wriggles a little under him, pointedly. “Stop being weird and put your hand down. I can feel it, you know.”
“Shut up,” Jin mutters, but his hand comes down to rest on Kame's hip instead of awkwardly fluttering in the air above him like it had been doing ever since he woke up. He can feel the soft cotton of Kame's pyjama pants under his fingers, worn thin from too many spins in the washing machine. People always accuse Jin of keeping clothes too long, but they've never seen the stuff Kame wears when he's just chilling out.
“I'm cold,” Jin whines, just to fend off the awkward silence that threatens to descend on them. He tells himself that's why he says it anyway, and not because it urges Kame to make that tiny little frustrated noise again, his free arm sliding around Jin's waist and tugging him close. Jin feels shy, suddenly, like he wants to crawl inside himself and hide out there until all of this is over. He hates feeling this out of control. He's usually a smooth ladykiller. He's got moves.
“I can set you up with one of my friends if you want,” Jin blurts out, just as Kame's about to fall asleep. He mumbles the words against Kame's neck; hot breath ghosting over Kame's skin.
“Huh?”
“You know...” Jin supplies. “One of my gay friends...”
Kame shifts a little against him. “Seriously?” Jin wondered if he'd sound angry, but mostly he just sounds kind of amused.
“I guess...” Jin says.
“Like that friend of yours, Josh?”
“NO,” Jin says, horrified, fingers clutching at Kame's hip. “He's straight, what the hell.”
“I dunno,” Kame says. “I think I got a vibe from him.”
Jin wants to reel back in horror, but Kame's arm is tight around him.
“I don't know if you're kidding,” Jin says, “but that is disgusting.”
“Stop being such a homophobe.” Kame sounds kind of delighted. It's been years since he's had something good to tease Jin with. Jin's usually the one doing the annoying.
“I WAS SERIOUS,” Jin says, voice loud in the still room. “Some of my backdancers are gay.”
Kame's chest shakes under Jin, laughter trapped under the surface. “It's okay, not all of us have a fetish for Westerners.”
Jin should laugh, too, but instead, he just asks casually, “what do you have a fetish for, then?”
Kame stills under him, and Jin tightens his grip on Kame's hip, face still pressed against his neck, eyes squeezed shut.
“Jin,” Kame says, low, like a warning.
“I wanna know,” Jin mumbles.
Kame sighs under him, chest heaving, and he's quiet for a minute before he replies. “I don't know. They have to have a good heart. And a strong presence.”
“Oh,” Jin says.
“I like someone with a good voice. Like Higashiyama-senpai,” Kame adds, laughter creeping in through his voice. Jin pinches his hip, hard, and Kame yells aloud.
“You scream like a girl,” Jin says cruelly.
They lay there, Kame's chest rising and falling under Jin. 'This is your moment, Akanishi,' a little voice in Jin's head keeps saying; a tiny broken record. Jin tugs pliant, sleepy Kame a little closer, and brushes his lips against Kame's neck. He presses a dry kiss against Kame's skin, his lips parting. Kame tastes like salt, but mostly like dry, warm skin. Kame goes still under him.
“Did you just lick me?” Kame asks, his voice all weird and high.
“Maybe,” Jin tries. He runs his foot up Kame's leg, and presses another kiss to his neck, then one more, just above his collarbone. “Did you like it, baby?”
“No,” Kame says in a strangled little voice.
“Sure you did,” Jin murmurs, mouthing at Kame's jaw. He releases his grip on Kame's hip and slides his hand across Kame's belly, skin tensing under his wandering fingers. Then Kame punches him hard in the thigh and he screams and reels back, arms windmilling as he topples out of the bed, taking the blankets with him. When Jin opens his eyes, it's from his new position on the floor, tangled in a heap of blankets, clutching his leg.
“What the FUCK?” he moans, staring up at Kame's dark silhouette with wide, hurt eyes.
Kame's peering over the edge of the bed, and he looks pissed.
“What the fuck,” Jin moans again, scrabbling at the blankets enveloping him. “Why did you do that?”
“You're being an asshole,” Kame says, voice perfectly level. Kame's always angriest when he's the most calm. There are high, bright spots of colour on his cheeks.
Jin just keeps staring up at him. “I am not,” he says pathetically. “I'm being assertive.”
Kame just stares at him in disbelief. “Five minutes ago you were trying to set me up with your army of gay backdancers.”
“I wasn't serious,” Jin says lamely. “I was just trying to be supportive.” He crawls to the side of the bed, then props himself up on it when Kame flops back on the mattress.
“I don't understand anything that's happening right now,” Kame mutters. Jin wants to point out that talking to yourself is supposedly the first sign of being crazy, but it doesn't really seem like a good time.
“I'm romancing you,” Jin says, face growing hot again when Kame turns his head to the side and stares at him.
“Seriously??” Kame asks, voice hard and flat. Jin feels dread pool in the pit of his stomach.
“Maybe,” Jin mutters, then at Kame's incredulous look, “I mean, probably. Yeah.”
Kame just rolls his eyes and turns onto his side, back facing Jin.
“Sorry,” Jin manages, trying to climb back onto the bed in a way that doesn't make any noise, and doesn't make the bed shake. He doesn't succeed, and the line of Kame's back just grows angrier and tenser as Jin watches.
“Whatever,” Kame says.
Jin tugs the blankets up from the floor and throws them over Kame. Now he's an angry little lump under a mound of blankets.
“Sorry,” Jin says again. Kame doesn't answer. It's cold in the room, and Jin isn't wearing a shirt. Goosebumps break out on his arms and he shivers a little, then snuffles noisily. He's never coped well with cold weather.
“Are you crying?” Kame asks from under the heap of blankets. He doesn't turn to face Jin, but Jin can tell he's concerned. Kame worries about everyone. He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again, considering.
“Maybe,” Jin says, in a small, pathetic little voice.
Kame turns over, a lump of shifting blankets with his head peeping out. He looks like a turtle. “You're not crying,” he says, face blank and not even a little bit amused.
“I could have been,” Jin mutters. He feels exposed like this, with Kame the turtle staring at him.
Kame looks miserable suddenly. “I don't know why you have to be such an asshole all the time.”
“I'm not,” Jin says, his voice escaping as a whisper from his suddenly choked up throat. Now he really does feel like he's going to cry, just like a baby.
Kame just sighs, eyes closing halfway as his cheek presses against the mattress.
“I have a good voice,” Jin says sadly.
“I guess so,” Kame says, eyes boring into Jin. Jin can't make himself look away.
“I have a strong presence,” Jin tries.
Kame smirks a little at that, but only faintly.
Jin clears his throat, and reaches out, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket, right by Kame's cheek. “I have a good heart,” he says, but it sounds more like a question than a statement. He feels suddenly, desperately needy somehow, like at this moment he needs Kame to agree with him more than anything else in the world. Once upon a time, Kame's opinion meant more to Jin than anyone's because he was one of the best people Jin knew. Kame thinking that Jin was a bad person felt like more of a condemnation than anything else ever could; all of the hate mail and yarakashi put together.
“You have a good heart,” Kame repeats softly, voice just a little sad.
“Okay,” Jin says, and his fingers twist tightly in the blankets. He feels wound up too tight, like a clock. He pictures himself bursting open and springs flying everywhere. He feels suddenly, horribly bold.
“Then why don't you want me?” he hears himself ask.
Kame's eyes go all soft, face miserable as he stares at Jin. He rolls over suddenly and sits up, hand reaching out to turn on the lamp by the bed. The room is flooded with light and Jin recoils in horror, voice high pitched as he cries out.
“DON'T TURN ON THE LIGHT.”
Kame stares at him like he's insane. “Why?”
Jin rolls over, back to Kame as he turns his head, burying it in the pillow. “I can't do this if you turn on the light.”
“Okay,” Kame says after a slight pause, voice measured as the room descends into darkness again. “I think we should talk about this.”
“About what?” Jin asks, his voice a mortified whisper.
“About... your feelings,” Kame says. Jin can feel the bed moving as Kame shuffles over, then he can feel Kame's hand on his arm. “We need to talk about this like adults.”
“I don't want to,” Jin mumbles.
Kame pauses again. “Sometimes... when we've known someone for a long time, we can get a little bit confused...”
“Stop,” Jin moans, mortified, but Kame barrels on.
“It's easy to confuse friendship for something more,” Kame says.
Jin sits up in the dark, even though he can't really see Kame; the moonlight that was peeking through the window earlier has disappeared. “I've loved you for ten years,” Jin says wildly, even though he doesn't know if it's true.
Kame makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. Jin feels wild and free and careless, throwing caution and sense to the wind.
“I think you're my soulmate,” Jin says, grabbing for Kame's hand in the darkness, but only coming up with a handful of blanket.
“You're being stupid,” Kame says in a tiny voice. It's unfair. Kame's the sort of guy who loves shit like this.
“I'm totally obsessed with you,” Jin tries.
Kame just sounds angry now. “Then why didn't you say something sooner?”
Jin doesn't really have an answer, other than that he's kind of clueless. He doesn't think it'll fly. “I don't know,” he says instead, lamely. “I didn't realise I had a chance.”
It's only a little bit a lie. Jin's known Kame for so long that moving him to the sexy part of his brain never seemed like an option. He hadn't even know that he'd wanted it so badly.
Kame sounds doubtful, but a little mollified when he next speaks. “Maybe,” he says, instead of a real answer.
“Like, if I met you now,” Jin says, gaining confidence, “at a club or whatever, you wouldn't give me a second look. You're totally out of my league.” He only believes it a little bit, even though it's kind of true.
“I'd give you a second look,” Kame says.
Jin's insides squirm around and he fists his hands in the sheets under him. “Really?” He'd wanted Kame to protest and tell Jin that he was totally hot, but this is almost better.
“Yes, stupid,” Kame says, exasperated.
“Okay,” Jin mutters, “but that's for, like, a one night stand.”
“I guess so...” Kame says, long and drawn out, like he can't quite understand what Jin's trying to get at.
“I want you to think I have a good heart,” Jin says lamely.
The rustle of blankets tell Jin that Kame's shifting in place, probably uncomfortably. “I told you,” Kame says, sounding just a little exasperated. “I do think you have a good heart.”
“Then why don't you want me?” Jin asks again. He's filled with a sudden flood of self-conscious angst. “Is it because you've known me for so long?”
“It's because I've known you for so long that I know you have a good heart,” Kame says patiently. Kame's probably the best person to have this sort of conversation with, because he can't stand it when Jin is miserable, even when he's angry with him.
“Weeeeeellllllllllll,” Jin says, drawing out the word.
Kame sighs. “I don't think you've thought this through.”
Jin grabs for Kame again, and his hand lands on Kame's arm this time. He squeezes hard. “I'm not some flake,” he says, just a little hurt.
Kame tries to tug his arm away, but Jin's holding on tight. “Jin,” he says, exasperation evident in his tone. “I don't think you're a flake, I just don't think you're into... like... guys.”
“Oh,” Jin says. If he squints he can make out the pale blur of Kame's face in the dark, very close. “You're not that different to a girl.”
Kame tenses again. It's unfair, no one appreciates Jin's humour. “I'm pretty different. You're not even attracted to me.”
“Hey,” Jin says. He feels lame, even before the next words leave his mouth. “I'm attracted to your stupid soul.”
“My soul,” Kame repeats.
“Yeah...” Jin's cheeks are still burning red. He's so glad it's dark. He could never have had this talk in the daylight. Kame must be thinking along the same lines, because he clears his throat before he speaks again.
“If you say it at 3am it doesn't count.”
“What?” Jin feels outraged, even through his embarrassment. “It does so count.”
Kame flops on the bed and Jin's grip falters. He grabs at useless, empty space.
“Tell me in the morning,” Kame says, “and then again in a month, and maybe I'll believe it.”
“This is bullshit,” Jin whines. He feels like a kid being placated.
Kame reaches out and slides his fingers into Jin's hand. He's always had these short, stubby little fingers. They're so ugly. Kame would kill to have the hands of a pianist, but it was never meant to be. It makes Kame better, somehow. His imperfections make him real.
“I like you,” Jin whispers into the night, and his heart swells a little at the feel of Kame's grip tightening in his own. He can say it a million times, until Kame believes.
--
“What are you doing?” Kame asks when he wanders out in the morning to find Jin desperately trying to stuff 100 red roses into the trash. Jin freezes, the card in his hand feeling like a red hot ember.
The delivery had come early that morning. Jin had opened the door to find a harassed-looking courier holding a giant basket of flowers. “For 'the happy couple'?” he'd asked, staring straight into Jin's bright red face. Jin remembers staring at him and hoping that he had no idea who Jin was. How awkward.
“Right,” Jin had said, allowing the basket to be shoved into his waiting arms. He'd put them down on the table and stared at them for a full minute. Fucking Josh. The card had been the worst part.
“Kazu-chan,” it had read, in a sickeningly pink shade of ink. “How I long for you to be mine. My dreams are of no other. It was always you. You are fucking hot and I want to bone you. - your Jin.”
The last part had been in English. The whole thing has Josh's name all over it. The only thing that made Jin feel better about the whole mess was imagining Josh having to ring up and repeat the message to some poor florist. Jin had stared and stared at the basket, and had thought, I can't let Kame see this. Somehow all the things he'd said last night just make him feel shy today. If Kame sees a giant basket of roses and the creepiest card in the world, he's going to think Jin's some kind of stalker freak.
With Kame standing in the doorway now, eyes wide and incredulous, Jin does the only thing he can think of. He stuffs the card into his mouth.
“I think some stalker sent them for Yamapi,” he says, letting the thin cardboard start to dissolve on his tongue. His jaw works furiously. He pretends it's totally normal, gnawing psychotically on a card. “You know how fans get. They're fucking nuts.”
“Right,” Kame says, still staring at the beheaded roses. He looks sleepy and rumpled, and kind of adorable. His hair is sticking up on one side.
“Here,” Jin says on impulse, crossing the room and shoving the head of a rose into Kame's palm. The petals fall off as he does so. They both stare down at it. It looks sort of pathetic. “It's pretty... like you...” he tries, lamely.
Kame just stares at him. He probably thinks Jin has had some sort of mental break. “Thanks,” he says at last, but Jin can kind of tell he's pleased, because Kame's cheeks are flushed an unflattering red, and his fingertips keep brushing the velvety petals in his palm.
“No problem,” Jin manages. Maybe Josh isn't so bad after all.
--
It takes an embarrassingly long time for the two of them to realise they have no way to get back to the airport.
“Pi, that dick,” Jin says, staring out at the empty driveway. Kame's big rental car is gone, fluffy dice and all.
Kame ignores the insult. “We'll have to call a taxi or something.” He looks like he doesn't care, but Jin can tell from the set of his mouth that he's thinking dumb, worried thoughts about the rental car. He probably thinks Pi has dumped it outside the airport or something. He bets the second he leaves the room, Kame will be on the phone to the rental company, confirming that the car was dropped back. Kame's good at the responsible, boring stuff that never seems to stick properly in Jin's mind.
Jin's phone buzzes then, and when he fishes it out he sees another text from Josh.
大丈夫？? u tap that? ボーイフレンド?（笑）
“It's Josh,” he says, meeting Kame's curious look. “He wants to meet my boyfriend again.”
Kame's silent for a long minute, his eyes round like a terrified horse. Jin feels giddy and delighted. He's not sure if he's being annoying or persistent. Maybe both.
“Right,” he says at last, his mouth a thin line. He looks like he wants to yell at Jin, even though his fingers are still molesting the petals still in his palm.
“What should I tell him?” Jin asks. He clutches his iphone tightly. He's a cool and casual guy.
Kame's silent again for a long while before he finally opens his mouth to speak. “Tell him we can have dinner or something,” he says at last, grudgingly.
Jin feels a spark of hope light up in his chest, like a flower slowly unfurling after the cold. When he glances at Kame he sees Kame's lips tilted up a little at the corners. A smiling Kame is a good Kame. When the taxi pulls up in front of the cabin and they slide into it, Kame lets Jin hold his hand in the back seat, all the way to the airport.