[04/04] A Prelude to Number Six?
title. A Prelude to Number Six?
pairing. akame (je)
rating. r
author's note. snowqueenofhoth: So when are you posting? snowqueenofhoth: Any special occasion? soucieux: yeah. the ending. soucieux: ...aka now.
word count. 03100 (overall: 17990)
The rain falls harder than it did earlier in the evening, and the streets smell strongly of asphalt. Kame hails a cab to take him home, and the interior smells like wet animals. The radio buzzes with a station that plays ballads twenty-four seven, and the sappy love lyrics are drowned out whenever thunder sounds.
It would be foreboding if the night had not already climaxed.
Kame curls into a corner, leans his head against the cold glass with his legs bent against his chest and his chin resting on his knees. His fingers grip the hem of his coat sleeves-that one. Jin's. The one he wore because he meant to return it, but things had ended too awkwardly for him to even think about that.
His head dully aches and he sniffles. A cold might be coming on from the recent weather, or perhaps Jin is affecting him in all sorts of strange ways.
Jin. Lately, everything seems to come back to him. It's not like Kame can help it. Jin is everywhere, and the thought is punctuated when the taxi passes a brightly-lit billboard of him endorsing some soft drink and one of his singles begins to play on the radio.
Kame closes his eyes to sleep, buries his face into the collar of the coat in order to escape. But he can’t, because--
Because.
His cell phone vibrates in his pocket and he knows the caller without checking the screen. But, his stomach still turns when he sees the inevitable kanji, and he inhales deeply before answering.
"Hello?" Kame’s own voice is hoarse, a little dry.
"It's Jin."
"I know," Kame says. "Your number is in my phone." He laughs a little and at that instant, resolves that it is better for the both of them to forget about uneasy situations and move on.
"I thought maybe you-” Kame can hear Jin inhale sharply.
"Jin?"
"Maybe-you. I don't know. Kame, tonight-”
"Forget about it," Kame says softly. "It's okay."
"Kame, that's-”
"It's all right,” Kame assures.
"Okay," Jin says, and Kame thinks he sounds relieved. "Did you get home all right? I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"I'm still in the cab," Kame says. "I'll be home in a few minutes."
"Ah," Jin says. "Good night, Kame."
"Good night."
"I really was-am-drunk," Jin adds quickly, unsurely and hesitantly.
"I know." Kame isn’t going to argue. There’s no reason to.
Their relationship is built around something that he cannot quite place. He supposes that they are acquaintances, perhaps friends, but not exceptionally close. Kame is removed from Jin's life-he doesn't know his friends nor is he quite clear on the other's background, or even his hobbies outside of music. There is comfort, Kame thinks, in confiding in strangers. He recalls listening to Jin in the ramen shop about his insecurities on success and the limelight, and he recalls babbling about his own problems and worries at that coincidental meeting in the tiny, nostalgic cafe.
Strangers harbor no bias. They only know what is told to them. People find comfort in being told that they are right, that everything will be all right.
They are like that, Kame thinks, and he's a little disturbed because now any trust between them seems clouded and hazy and fake. They see each other through rose-tinted glasses.
Kame falls asleep on top of his bed, fully clothed and without pulling back the covers. He's done a lot of thinking and all he knows is that he is exhausted and the cause is Jin. That and he has to go to work later for a photoshoot featuring some gravure model or another.
---
Kame wakes up at ten in the morning and he had to be at work two hours earlier. It is suffice to say that he is late. He finds that his cell phone has died, all of his jeans are dirty, and the milk for his morning coffee expired six days ago. On the way to work, a passing car sprays him with water, his umbrella manages to flip inside out, and a black cat won't stop following him until he reaches the station (and there's nowhere to sit because of the woman who is taking up three seats).
He arrives at eleven with his equipment thankfully intact. Karma has deemed that Kame will at least be able to work without any problems. "Did you get my message?" He asks Emi, who is stalking toward him with an angry gait. "My cell died, so I called you from home. But you didn't answer and I didn't know the number for the studio and I was in a rush-” He exhales deeply and pushes stray strands of wet hair from his face.
"Tough morning?" Emi asks, and her arms are crossed and one hip is cocked. "The model took a lunch break. Her agent is pissed. It took all of my negotiation skills to keep them from calling in another photographer." She looks Kame up and down and her face softens at his pathetic appearance-light jacket half-buttoned and baggy jeans spilling from the tops of his sagging boots. "Want to grab coffee? Something to eat? We'll need to be back here in half an hour, but I'm sure we can get something."
---
"I was a little worried," Emi admits, and she nurses a slice of cake. "I mean, you occasionally do dumb things like show up late, but never this late." Kame sags in the corner of his side of the booth, drums his fingers against a mug of black coffee. "I called Jin," she continues, and looks at Kame with some suspicion.
Kame shifts, brings the coffee up to his lips and his eyes stare over the edge of the mug at Emi. "Why?" He asks, laughs under his breath. "You just assume I'm always with him, huh?" It’s rhetorical, but Emi answers him anyway.
"He's the only friend of yours whose number I have-and you do spend time with him. More than with anyone else." She stabs her cake slice with her fork. "I'm just playing the odds."
Curiosity gets the best of Kame. "What did he say?"
"He said that you went out drinking with him. You took him home and then went home yourself. He said that the last time he talked to you, you were still in the cab."
"Yeah. He was drunk," Kame says, justifies taking Jin home. "I couldn't leave him to his own devices, right?"
Emi ignores him. "What else happened last night, Kame?"
"Nothing. We just went drinking. We talked a little."
"He sounded tired. Like you do right now. Did something happen to him?” She pauses. “What about you? Did you guys fight? You don’t have to tell me exactly, but, frankly-” She purses her lips and reaches over the table to push back Kame’s bangs. “-you look like death. And I’m sure he’s not much better right now.”
"It's really nothing, Emi." Kame bats her hand away. "It's really all right."
"The only person you ever convince is yourself," she says, and her eyes flicker to the clock on the wall above the doorway. "Let's go back, then."
---
Kame returns home that evening to find Jin waiting in front of his door. He stands with his back to Kame, cell phone in hand.
"Jin."
"Kame!" Jin turns toward him, sheepish smile firmly in place as he flips his phone shut. "I've only been waiting a little while," he says. Before Kame can ask.
"What're you doing here?" Kame asks, approaching him. Jin moves as Kame pulls out his keys and begins to unlock the door.
Jin doesn't say anything, and he follows Kame inside the apartment without asking for permission. "Just wanted to talk," he says finally, and slips off his shoes and lines them up against the wall. "About stuff," he says lamely.
"I told you that stuff is all right," Kame says, and he leads Jin to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"
"No." Jin leans against a counter, hands in his pockets and eyes following Kame's movements. "Are you sure it's all right?" He asks.
"How many times do I have to tell you that before you believe me?" Kame asks, looks at him. He smiles, a little strained. "You're worrying too much," he says.
It's all right, Kame decides, but things feel awkward. Jin's presence has him on edge, and his hands shake a little as he hastily places dirty dishes in the sink.
"You're lying," Jin says easily.
Kame laughs. "Why are you here?" He asks again. "Specifically." He tries to avoid looking at Jin, but he can see him shifting out of the corner of his eye and through the fringe of his hair.
"Why do you keep saying it's all right?" Jin retorts.
"Because it is," Kame announces. "It's all right. It's not a big deal. It was last night-in the past. We regret it so we can move on." He begins to place clean glasses and silverware into cabinets and drawers.
"I don't regret it," Jin says. He pushes off the counter and looks apprehensively at Kame. "Trying to tell you. I don't regret it," he repeats, and he sees Kame biting his lip. "And to answer your question," he continues, "I'm here because I was worried. Because I called you and you wouldn't answer." He reaches up to scratch his nose, leans his head back so he looks at the ceiling. "Because Emi called me and said she didn't know where you were. I was a little scared," he admits, and he laughs.
"I'm okay," Kame says softly. "I'm all right."
"We should talk. So that there's no ambiguity. So that we actually can make everything all right between us."
"Everything's fine,” Kame bites, and he slams a cabinet shut. "It's very clear." He approaches Jin, stands toe to toe with him and looks him in the eyes. Jin is startled. "We barely know each other, you know. You tell me things that you don't want to tell anyone close to you because then they'll know too much about you. I tell you things that I don't want to tell anyone close to me because they'll know too much about me." He pauses. "It makes sense, doesn't it? We can't pass judgment on each other that way. We just accept and say it's all right-”
“What’re you talking about?” Jin asks, and he sounds incredulous. “I don’t even know what you’re trying to say.” He laughs beneath his breath before continuing, voice low, “You know, you say it's all right. You always say that. You pretend everything's okay. Everything's not okay, but you try to justify it anywa-”
"I'm not justifying anything. I'm just explaining how things are, and it just so happens that we don't have as close a relationship as you might think. It's like-”
"Like you have no idea what you're talking about. Like you're trying to avoid what I'm trying to talk about. We're friends, Kame. And I like you as more tha-”
"We're not friends," Kame says. "We're not friends. We're something different."
"Different but not strangers, or whatever you’re convinced we are. Different because it runs deeper than friendship. Because friendship is just sharing hobbies, and going out together. This is something where we can talk about things that we don't talk about with other pe-”
"It's shallow," Kame says. "Strangers can talk to each other about the deepest things because the other person doesn't know enough to pass judgment, to have an opinion on the matter. People talk about the deepest things to people they don't know because there's no bias, because all people want is a nod and a pat on the head."
Jin laughs, shakes his head. "Caring about you hurts," he says.
"You caring about me hurts," Kame replies, and steps backward. "Everything's all right until you come along. And then all of a sudden everything's awkward and the air is too thick to breathe. My stomach drops and-”
"It's like that?" Jin asks.
"It's like that." Kame looks at his feet, leans his arms on the kitchen table and tries to avoid Jin's eyes again. "It's you," he accuses. He sounds stupid and small, like a child who can't explain something properly. "It's you, you know," he says, and his voice is tiny.
Jin steps forward until he stands directly in front of Kame. "So this-” he begins.
"This is uncomfortable," Kame says, and his eyes flicker to Jin's face to Jin's hair, to Jin's dark green sweater and the impossibly dark wash of his jeans. "I don't like it," he says lamely, before Jin grabs one of his hands and laces their fingers together. He pulls Kame toward him and wraps his free arm around Kame's waist, presses his face into Kame's hair.
"Really?" Jin asks “Are you sure?” His breath is warm and Kame can hear his own heartbeat.
It beats very fast.
"Really," Kame says, but he doesn't push Jin away. It's easier, sometimes, he thinks, not to fight. To let things happen. "Really," he repeats.
It’s a familiar statement. "The only person you ever convince is yourself." Jin shifts and moves backward so that he can see Kame's face. He lets go of Kame's fingers, moves his hand up to push Kame's hair away from his eyes.
Kame sees that Jin's eyes are dark and searching, a little fearful and maybe confused.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Jin says, and Kame doesn't stop him because--
Because.
Jin's lips don't taste like alcohol. They are full and soft and warm and taste like peppermint flavored lip balm. Kame feels Jin press closer to him, feels his muscles, nervous and tense.
Time moves very slowly, at that moment.
When Jin pulls away, his eyes are still dark and searching and maybe a little bit more fearful than before.
"It's all right," Kame says, his throat dry, and Jin's eyes look more relieved and his figure becomes more relaxed.
"All right so I can do it again?" Jin asks, and leans in, lets his mouth linger above the other's.
Kame does it on impulse, leaning up and tilting his head back so that their mouths meet.
That is the reaction Jin is waiting for, Kame decides, because the second kiss is rougher and more desperate. Jin's hands drop to Kame's hips, and his thumbs rest in the waistband of Kame's jeans.
Kame thinks about it, a little, why he lets Jin do this and why he responds. Why, all of a sudden, everything feels okay and all right, and his stomach ceases churning and his heartbeat falls into a comfortable rhythm.
He's not sure, really. But Kame isn't really sure what he's supposed to be sure about anymore.
Jin gets ready to leave soon after that, with a bright face and wide smile. "I'll call you," he says. "Pick up this time, or I'll get worried again. And I'll have to come back." He pauses. "Maybe you shouldn't pick up," he jests.
"Maybe," Kame says, and stands at the doorway as Jin leaves his apartment and enters the hallway. "Sorry," he says. "For putting you through all of this." He feels guilty, now. He's surprised that Jin bothers to put up with him, that Jin wants him after all of this.
Jin looks back at him, hands in his pockets. "There are still things to talk about." He stands up straight like something bothers him. "We still have to talk about us," he says, and Kame’s eyes flicker toward his feet.
"But you're going now."
"Yeah."
They stand in silence.
"Did you drive here?" Kame asks.
"Train. And then I walked. Traffic was bad when I left home, so-”
"Weren't you cold?" Kame asks, and retreats back inside his apartment. He returns a few moments later with Jin's wool coat, the one Jin insisted that he should wear, the one that he never did return. "I don't want you to get sick," he says softly, and enters the hallway, thrusts the coat into Jin's hands. "It's yours, anyway." He steps back, hands in his back pockets and lips pressed together.
Jin looks surprised. "I forgot you had it," he says, and puts it on. "Thanks."
"It's all right," Kame says, and moves into his apartment. "I'll see you later." He begins to shut the door and is startled when something prevents him, Jin stepping forward and shoving his foot in the space between the door and the doorway.
Kame reopens it and Jin retracts his foot. "Um," Jin says intelligently, and reaches up to scratch his nose. He inhales deeply, sucks the air in between his teeth. "Want to go to lunch tomorrow?" He asks quickly, and he bites his bottom lip.
This is the Jin Kame knows, humble and down-to-earth, a little nervous, but straight-forward.
"Is this a date?" Kame asks seriously.
This is the person Kame is, wary of relationships, and, perhaps, most people in general.
"Yes," Jin says. "Yes," he repeats, and laughs. "Of course it's a date. What else would it be?" He relaxes.
"I was just making sure," Kame says. "Because I don't know. Because I don't know what you want and I don't know what I want-because-” He struggles.
"Shut up, Kazuya," Jin says, and reaches out to tug on Kame’s forearm, to pull him back out of his apartment and into the hallway. Jin wraps his arms around Kame and presses his lips into his hair. "Shut up and stop thinking so hard," Jin murmurs. "Sometimes you just have to feel."
Kame is silent for a few moments. “Feel what?” He asks.
“You tell me.”
Kame hesitates. "I feel warm." His lips move against Jin's neck. "I feel comfortable," he admits.
"That's a good thing," Jin explains. "That means you like this. That means you like me," he says.
"Is that it?" Kame asks. "That seems too easy." His lips curve into a smile.
"You make things difficult," Jin accuses. "Everything would be so much easier if you weren't so stubborn," he says.
"Shut up," Kame murmurs, and eases himself out of Jin’s embrace. They stand there, again, silently.
And then, Kame looks up, lifts one hand toward Jin’s face. There’s uncertainty in the movement, an abrupt, jerky pause before his fingers tentatively rest against the other’s cheek.
He swallows.
Jin leans in.
PART 03 // END // tl;dr NOTES
2007.06.21 → 2007.09.14