[KAT-TUN] The Sun and the Air - part 2, R, General/Romance, Akame
Almost done. Will pimp when the third part is complete and posted.
The Sun and the Air [part 2]
KAT-TUN, Akame, R, 4490 words
In which Jin has doubts and realizations and people continue to say "hey."
Warnings: language and masturbation
Disclaimer: Holy smokes, Batman, not mine and grateful am I for that.
The Sun and the Air
by meitachi
two // ima kara
“We talk sometimes,” Jin said cautiously and Ryo snorted.
“He’s still a dick,” he said, and Jin could hear his friend’s annoyance clearly through the phone. He sat near the back of the room, fiddling with the ties on his shirt with his free hand, as Junno dozed with his head on Maru’s shoulder and Ueda read quietly in his own corner. Koki and Kame hadn’t shown up yet but the interview wasn’t due to start until nine so they had a few minutes to make the eight-forty-five deadline their manager Hiro had set for them.
Jin swore he wasn’t fully awake yet and Ryo hadn’t taken kindly to being awoken so early either; he had an interview of his own but since it wasn’t until later in the day, he’d planned on sleeping in, as he’d irately informed Jin. Taking no offense because Ryo was never completely serious about these things, Jin had started talking about the topic uppermost his mind lately: Kame. Since their shopping trip a few weeks ago, their interactions had been limited but had increased in friendliness-tentative progress.
“Well,” said Jin, and found he couldn’t argue. “You’re a dick too,” he pointed out instead.
“Yeah, well, that’s true.” Ryo’s chuckle came through the line and Jin relaxed into his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “But at least you know I care, Bakanishi. Don’t let Kamenashi do anything to hurt you.”
Jin blew out a breath, a little annoyed. “I’m not a girl, Ryo.”
“Did I say you were? Look, you know what I mean, right? You’ve got to take care of yourself.”
Ryo’s voice was subdued and serious. Jin nodded as he sighed, “Yeah. I know.” And he did. For all that he and Ryo spent their time sniping at each other, it had always been in good fun. They knew that they could always depend on the other no matter what, and that made this one of Jin’s most precious friendships.
It used to be like this with Kame, he thought, mouth twisting, and looked up in time to see the object of thoughts stroll in the door.
“Got to go,” Jin said quickly into the phone. Ryo made a knowing sort of noise and let Jin hang up on him. Jin watched Kame murmur a good morning to Maru, who returned it, shifting around a bit until Junno opened his eyes and greeted Kame as well.
Jin tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and straightened in his seat, lifting a hand to gesture at Kame. “Morning,” he said with a smile and indicated the seat beside him. Kame’s answering smile was brief and slightly unsure, but he circled around the others to sit beside Jin. He looked tired and his hair was pulled back in a low, messy ponytail. Jin thought it made him look utterly human, devoid of the star that strutted around on stage in slinky outfits. He kind of liked it.
“Tired?” he asked, resisting the urge to tug at the ponytail.
Kame sighed and rolled his shoulders back, letting his neck loll from side to side. “Yeah.”
Jin punched him lightly in the arm and smiled when Kame grunted. They did talk sometimes, like he told Ryo, but sometimes they didn’t. And those times, he found, were okay too.
--
When Ueda seated himself next to Jin at lunch, Jin was attacking the skimpy salad with gusto. He hadn’t eaten since six that morning and, then, only a muffin and a bottle of apple juice. Ueda watched him in obvious amusement, hair tucked neatly behind his ears as he bit out of an apple.
Jin swallowed and grinned. “Hey, Ueda. What’s up?”
A magazine was slid across the tabletop and came to a stop as it hit the edge of the plastic salad container. Jin’s eyes darted from Ueda’s blank expression to the cover of the magazine, which featured a saucy, winking Hamasaki Ayumi. He twirled his fork and blinked. “Um,” he said, tilting his head slightly, confused.
“Page 54,” Ueda said around his apple.
Jin felt a sense of dread creep up upon him; nothing good had ever come of being handed tabloid magazines. The last time he’d been in this scenario, the magazine had been given to him by Yamapi in response to Jin’s inquiry as to where the hell Ryo had been for the past two weeks; discovering the story on Kusano’s drinking incident had made him worry for Ryo immediately, knowing that it would touch too many raw nerves. Hearing NEWS’ fate later through Hiro had come like a blow to the stomach. Jin didn’t want to imagine how it had affected his friends, and he knew to step carefully around the subject even now.
Warily, he lowered his fork and flipped open the magazine with his free hand. Colorful ads and text jumped out at him but he paid them little attention until he found the page Ueda had indicated.
Akanishi Jin and Kamenashi Kazuya friends again?
Caught shopping in Odaiba!
It was only a one-page article, but to the left of the main text box was a grainy picture of Jin and Kame in the crowded streets just outside a large shopping mall, laden with shopping bags. Jin had his arm slung casually around Kame’s shoulders and the camera had captured their profiles as they looked forward, sunglasses blocking out their eyes.
Jin’s fingers tapped a nervous rhythm over the picture. “Wow, I didn’t think they’d write an article about it,” he said, but there was no true surprise in his voice. Tabloid reporters would write anything concerning idols, so long as it sold. There had once been an article speculating on whether or not he’d lost a necklace. Speculation, mind you, and not even actual, hard fact. Jin looked up at Ueda across the table, a cautious grin on his face. “Heh, I guess Hiro’s gonna get on my case about this later. Didn’t know there were reporters.” He pouted. “Never do. They’re always blending in with the crowd.”
Ueda nodded but his mouth was twisted in a frown. He had finished his apple and was wiping his fingers with a napkin. “What were you doing with Kame?” he asked quietly, setting the napkin down. He avoided Jin’s gaze as he began fingering his bracelets.
“Ah, just-shopping. I mean, I guess I should be glad that the reporter actually got it right.” Jin’s chuckle was met with silence and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He glanced at his band mate and then bit his lip. He prodded at his salad for a moment.
The headline of the article seemed almost accusatory when he read it again. Caught shopping! Friends again? Were they friends again? Had they been friends previously and then fallen out so obviously that the media would see fit to comment?
The bracelets and wristbands Ueda was wearing clinked together as he continued to fidget, his expression almost unreadable.
“Hey,” Jin said, nudging Ueda’s foot with his own. “You okay?”
Ueda didn’t look at him. He didn’t smile the way he’d recently been doing at Jin, amused or indulgent. He didn’t roll his eyes and mutter something just loud enough for Jin to hear and burst out laughing, to everyone else’s confusion. He didn’t settle comfortably under Jin’s touch despite flinching away from everyone else’s. Instead, he left the magazine by Jin’s hand and pushed his chair back, rising to his feet. He collected his trash. “Hiro wants you back in ten minutes,” he said, and left.
--
Jin could hear the sounds of traffic and people outside as he lay on his back on the sofa. It was night outside, technically, as the sun had set hours ago, but street lamps lit the residential neighborhood, close enough to the main roads to catch the busy glow of taxis and storefront signs. He had his legs crossed and his cell phone out, moving his thumb rapidly across the keys as he text messaged Ryo.
Fucking Eisuke, Ryo was saying. He signed me up for another drama.
Ouch, Jin keyed back in sympathy. No sleep for you.
Thanks, replied Ryo and Jin grinned at the sarcasm blatant even over the small font on his phone screen. Ryo never let up, did he? What are you doing tonight?
Jin hesitated only slightly before sending his response. Going out with Kame. Clubbing, possibly, though he wasn’t sure. They’d only made rough plans to meet up tonight and go out and Jin assumed the specifics would be decided when Kame showed up. His eyes darted to the clock hanging on the opposite wall. Seven-thirty. Kame had said he’d be over around eight and they could go out and grab a bit to eat before going wherever it was they ended up choosing.
Where?
Sitting up, Jin scratched absentmindedly at one foot with his left hand as his right held his cell phone up. Dunno. Gotta go get dressed. He stood and stretched, shirt riding up as he rolled his neck and shoulders, loosening tight muscles. The phone was slipped into his pocket as he made his way toward the stairs, passing by the kitchen on the way. His mother was at the counter, cleaning up the dinner he’d picked at, explaining to her worried queries that he would be eating out later with Kame.
“Oh, are you going out with him?” she’d asked, a warm smile lighting her face. “That’s lovely, dear.”
She’d always been sweet on Kame, Jin thought with a quirk of his lips, though she hadn’t said anything when his visits had grown increasing infrequent and had eventually dropped off entirely. It was clear, however, that she approved of Jin rekindling his friendship with the other boy. It wasn’t too hopeful now to say that, Jin thought happily. While he’d have been reserved about the phrasing a few weeks ago, things had definitely improved by leaps and bounds, much to his own surprise.
Jin went into his room, passing his brother’s closed door on the way. Reo had closed himself inside immediately after dinner and Jin could hear the clacking of his computer keys. He really should get out more, Jin thought before focusing on the more important matter of getting dressed and ready in less than half an hour. Maybe more, he amended, recalling that Kame had a tendency towards tardiness.
His phone buzzed again as he fished it out of his pocket and placed it on the desk, unsnapping his belt and in the process of sliding out of his pants. Jin glanced at the screen and chortled when he read Ryo’s parting message:
I want pics if he gets drunk.
Of course. Ryo wouldn’t be Ryo if he didn’t get a good laugh at someone else’s expense. He was more or less harmless, though, and good-natured about it all. In any case, Jin had never seen Ryo truly exchange words with anyone, not seriously. They jibed at each other all the time but it was like a sort of ritual by now. Jin spared a moment to pity Ryo’s manager, who had cornered Jin’s friend an hour ago and was still prattling on about the new drama he’d gotten Ryo a role in, if Ryo’s exasperated messages were any indication.
Amused by his friend’s plight, Jin stripped off his shirt and stood in front of his closet in his boxers. He crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly, considering.
“God, ‘niisan. You’d think with all the money you make, you could at least afford some clothes.” Reo walked past, rolling his eyes, and Jin’s head turned automatically. His little brother had his jacket on and gave him a half-hearted, poor excuse for a wave as he went down the stairs.
Jin wrinkled his nose. Apparently Reo was going out after all.
“Shut up!” he shouted belatedly down the stairs.
“I’m going out,” said Reo as he slammed the front door shut.
Jin sighed and after ten minutes of further debate, pulled on a pair of black jeans, artistically ripped and covered with glitter, and a deep red tank top with a wide neck and leather laces up the sides. Then he proceeded to fiddle with his jewelry-rings, necklaces, armbands, repeat-until he had a creeping suspicion that he was beginning to act like a girl before a date. Not that he was entirely positive what a girl would do before a date, considering he’d never actually seen one, but he’d heard that it was something along these lines and it was most definitely not appropriate for a guy who was just going to party with a friend. A male friend, he reminded himself.
Jin forced himself to stop sneaking glances at the clock and went downstairs to help his mother in the kitchen. They finished in too short of a time, as she’d nearly been done anyway, and Jin was left to continue fidgeting. It was only eight, he noted, and threw himself back onto the couch with the remote, flipping through the channels at a speed usually reserved for Junno after he’d played a prank on Ueda and was running for his life.
An episode of anime and a half hour later, Jin was shifting restlessly over the couch. He glanced at the clock again and suppressed a sigh, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt, tension thrumming through every fiber of his being. Kame usually wasn’t this bad about being late. Wouldn’t he at least call?
Briefly, Jin took the time worry that something had happened to Kame on his way over. But what could happen on such a mundane, run-of-the-mill trip that Kame had made hundreds of times before?
Before his imagination could run away from him, Jin quickly dialed Kame’s number-still on speed dial #3-and held the phone to his ear. The mechanical ring sounded a total of five times before he heard a click and Kame’s casual voice recording, telling him to leave a message.
“Hey, Kame,” Jin said, playing with the ends of his hair, “it’s Jin. Just wondering where you are. Give me a call, okay? Bye.” He flipped his phone closed, his brows drawn, and continued to stare blankly at the wall for a few more minutes.
“Sweetie, I thought you were going out.” His mother stood at the foot of the stairs, a perplexed smile on her face as she called out to Jin.
Jin frowned. “Yeah. Me, too.” He got to his feet and gave his mother a half-hearted smile, adjusting his tank top. “It’s fine. I think Kame got caught up in whatever business he had earlier.” He slipped his hands into his pockets as he followed her up the stairs. Making excuses for Kame…he hadn’t done that in a long time; but then, he hadn’t been given the chance.
“That’s too bad. Perhaps some other time, then?” His mother patted him on the arm with a hopeful look in her eyes and he nodded numbly, the smile still fixed on his face. She gave his arm one last squeeze and disappeared into her room.
Jin turned away and expelled a long sigh. He ran a hand through his hair as he padded back into his room. There was no getting around it, was there? He’d been stood up. Kame had ditched him and, whether or not he’d had a valid excuse, not bothered to call. Was this what he’d been searching for when he’d attempted to rebuild their friendship? What had he been expecting? Was he so wrong for thinking that they’d made progress?
Fighting the urge to throw something, Jin collapsed onto his bed and glared at the ceiling. What did he want, anyway? Certainly not this frustration and this-hurt. The anger at being misled, by Kame or by his own wistfulness. The incredibly stupid part of him still hoping Kame would call and explain and somehow fix everything.
He could still go out tonight. It wasn’t late and there was always someone he could call that wasn’t busy, he was sure. But Jin didn’t feel like going out anymore. He rolled over onto his side and buried his face in the pillow, trying not to think. Eventually, he fell asleep on top of the covers, still dressed in his jeans and tank top.
--
Jin was woken by the incessant jangling of his phone. He blinked sleepily as he fumbled on the nightstand for his phone before realizing that it was still in the pocket of his jeans. He drew it out and flipped it open without checking who it was. His eyes drifted shut in the half-light of the early morning and he shivered slightly, groping for the covers with his free hand.
“H’lo?” he mumbled, scooting across the bed to tug the thin blanket free and slide himself under them. It may have been summer but it was always coldest before dawn.
“Jin? Jin! Damn it, are you up? We’re picking you up in fifteen minutes. Get your ass in gear.” A click and the call ended abruptly.
Hiro, thought Jin fuzzily, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. He opened them to look at the time displayed across his cell phone screen: six-fifteen. Way too damned early, he thought, as he stretched. Fifteen minutes would make it six-thirty and that was still too damned early.
He froze. Fifteen minutes?
“Shit,” he swore and threw off the covers, running across the room. He had to change and then brush his teeth and fix his hair and- Thirteen minutes later, Jin was had just struggled through the first clean t-shirt he’d found and was hunting for the brush he’d put down only five minutes ago. As he spotted it under the black jeans he’d kicked off earlier, his phone rang again.
Damn it, now where was his phone?
Under his tangled sheets, apparently, and Jin fished it out. He blinked when he saw the caller ID. Kame.
“Hey,” he said, carefully nonchalant, as he held the phone between ear and shoulder and ran the brush through his hair.
“Jin,” said Kame, “fuck, I am so sorry about last night. I was doing some fucking grocery shopping for my mom and ran into some crazy reporter and then there was this huge mess and screaming girls and I got stuck there for hours. It was already seven-thirty when I got home and I was going to get changed and head over but-” He paused here and Jin tossed the brush aside and went back into the bathroom to peer at his hair in the mirror.
“Yeah?”
“I was just going to lie down for awhile,” Kame said, sounding embarrassed, “but then I didn’t wake up until eleven and I called you but you didn’t answer. I left a message.”
Jin blinked. He hadn’t noticed a new message, but when he lowered the phone from his ear, sure enough there was a blinking blue envelope on the corner of the screen. Something eased inside him. He raised the phone to his ear again. “Hey, it happens,” he said, grabbing his wallet off the desk and shoving it in his back pocket. He headed down the stairs to the front door.
“Yeah, well. Sorry, man.” Kame still sounded upset and embarrassed. “Oh, hey, we’re outside right now.”
Jin thought he could hear other voices coming through from Kame’s phone. “Be right there,” he said and hung up. He slid on his shoes and slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. His parents were undoubtedly still asleep and as for Reo-Jin had no idea when he’d gotten back last night. He spotted the nondescript van parked in front of the gate and darted inside as inconspicuously as he could, though there were very few people out and about on the streets at this time of day.
He slid the van door shut behind him and was greeted with a chorus of “good morning”s from Maru and Kame and Hiro. Their manager directed the driver to the studio where they would spend the day filming a commercial. Lotte again, if Jin remembered correctly, but he wasn’t dwelling on it as he climbed past Maru and Hiro into the backseat.
“Hey,” said Kame as Jin squeezed in beside him. He cuffed Jin on the arm with a wry smile. “Seriously, I’m sorry about last night.”
There was a light sting from the impact of Kame’s rings and Jin blinked. In the dim light, Kame’s hair was an almost gray-brown color, feathering across his forehead and over his eyes. His earrings glinted, half-hidden. “You’re going to have to buy me something to make up for it,” Jin said brightly and Kame laughed, his eyes crinkling up as he turned to face the front again.
“Greedy,” announced Kame, smile turning sly as he elbowed Jin.
“Hey, I’m not the one who stood me up,” Jin said accusingly. Then he blinked again and screwed up his face in confusion. “Wait. I’m not the one who stood you up. Or-you’re not the one who stood you up-”
“As coherent as usual,” Maru chirped from his seat in front of Kame. He made a face at Jin.
“Shut up.” Jin crossed his arms and slunk down in his seat, noticing briefly that it was still cool in the early morning and Kame was warm against his side. His eyes lingered on Kame’s throat as it quivered slightly as Kame laughed again. The collar of his jacket was turned up, framing his bare throat and collarbone, exposed by his low-scoop neckline.
Jin bit his lip and determinedly batted away Maru’s hands, which were making threatening tickling gestures. “Stop,” he whined, mind on other things. He’d always known that Kame was attractive. Kame knew it, after all, and with the way he flaunted the fact, it would be hard for anyone else to miss. Jin knew what kind of looks the female hosts gave him, knew what kind of things the not-so-decorous members of their audience liked to scream.
Kame was attractive, Jin admitted, but- He stopped when he found that he couldn’t finish the sentence.
But Jin knew better? But Jin didn’t want to risk this friendship?
His brows knit as he sneaked a look at the other from beneath his bangs. What exactly did he want from Kame?
--
The bass was loud, thrumming in the air, and Jin could feel it in his bones as he moved. It was hot under the stage lights, wrapped tight in his white shirt and long jacket, and his hair was in his eyes. But the rhythm was in his blood, in his hips, and there was an expectant, excited audience that hummed like live electricity, so he swiveled and threw his head back, keening into the microphone as the rest of the band broke into the chorus.
Jin lowered his head with a smirk in time to catch Kame running his hand over himself, dragging down his loose shirt and eliciting screams. He flashed a grin at the audience and let his hand trail lower, hips swaying, and for a moment Jin couldn’t hear the music, only the blood rushing in his ears.
Kame tossed his head back and winked, still singing as he sashayed from the left side of the stage towards the center. He was still grinning when he drew to a stop next to Jin, his skin shimmering with sweat and multi-colored lights.
Dizzy with adrenaline, Jin swayed closer until there were mere centimeters between their bodies and then twisted his hips, lifting his arms above his head as he moved to the throb of the bass, of his heartbeat. It was natural, familiar, and months of flirting-dancing-teasing with Ueda and Maru and Koki and Junno all fell away as Jin once again found the one person who could complement and complete his performance.
He licked his lips, staring into Kame’s eyes with a challenge, and Kame swiveled again, bringing their hips into dangerously close contact.
Jin was singing again, unaware of when instinct had taken over and his mouth had started moving, but his throat was working and words were slipping out, sultry and low. At last he broke away from Kame with a quick spin and a quicker smile for the shrieking fans, impertinent and inviting and practiced. Tiny lights danced before his eyes as he swallowed, catching a glimpse of Kame slinking across the stage, liquid grace, to Koki, with eyes bright and color high in his cheeks.
He couldn’t breathe right, not when his blood sang louder than he did, for a touch he didn’t know he craved, arousal skimming across his every nerve ending. Jin exhaled once, hard, and then slid back into the rhythm, the microphone pressed obscenely close to his mouth and his damp whispers. The show went on.
Jin thought, Oh-oh shit.
--
He was the first of the six backstage when the performance was over and they were given roughly five minutes to change their clothes and get back on stage for the set. He ducked into the nearest bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, leaning back against it. His hand was down his pants before he could think, heart in his throat, and he was cupping himself, a little too desperate for gentleness.
Seven flicks of his wrist, hands hot and rough, and the image of Kame’s wet, parted mouth as he danced against Jin, and Jin came, biting back a cry.
Half of it was adrenaline, he knew, from the high of being on stage, of the cheers and screams of the audience, of the thrill that got him every time. It was the other half that made him shudder, the glisten of Kame’s skin fresh in his mind and his fading erection softening in his hands.
Three minutes until he had to be on stage again and Jin hitched his breath, steeling himself as he cleaned himself off with the paper towels. He was still shaky when he opened the door-oh God, he’d forgotten to lock it-and let himself be swept up in the mad bustle backstage, stripping off his shirt in preparation for his costume change.
He evaded Ueda questioning where he’d gone and was halfway into his new outfit when his eyes met Kame’s and his stomach triple-flipped. He ducked his head.
This was not what he’d been looking for, Jin thought, hot and unsettled and ill at ease as he buttoned up his shirt with rapid fingers. He’d only wanted Kame’s friendship again, comforting and reassuring the way it used to be. He’d wanted the security of what they’d shared in the past. Nothing more.
Except…he’d just jerked himself off in the bathroom, picturing Kame on his knees.
Oh God, what was he doing?
--
« part 1 ☆ part 3 »
The Sun and the Air [part 2]
KAT-TUN, Akame, R, 4490 words
In which Jin has doubts and realizations and people continue to say "hey."
Warnings: language and masturbation
Disclaimer: Holy smokes, Batman, not mine and grateful am I for that.
The Sun and the Air
by meitachi
two // ima kara
“We talk sometimes,” Jin said cautiously and Ryo snorted.
“He’s still a dick,” he said, and Jin could hear his friend’s annoyance clearly through the phone. He sat near the back of the room, fiddling with the ties on his shirt with his free hand, as Junno dozed with his head on Maru’s shoulder and Ueda read quietly in his own corner. Koki and Kame hadn’t shown up yet but the interview wasn’t due to start until nine so they had a few minutes to make the eight-forty-five deadline their manager Hiro had set for them.
Jin swore he wasn’t fully awake yet and Ryo hadn’t taken kindly to being awoken so early either; he had an interview of his own but since it wasn’t until later in the day, he’d planned on sleeping in, as he’d irately informed Jin. Taking no offense because Ryo was never completely serious about these things, Jin had started talking about the topic uppermost his mind lately: Kame. Since their shopping trip a few weeks ago, their interactions had been limited but had increased in friendliness-tentative progress.
“Well,” said Jin, and found he couldn’t argue. “You’re a dick too,” he pointed out instead.
“Yeah, well, that’s true.” Ryo’s chuckle came through the line and Jin relaxed into his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “But at least you know I care, Bakanishi. Don’t let Kamenashi do anything to hurt you.”
Jin blew out a breath, a little annoyed. “I’m not a girl, Ryo.”
“Did I say you were? Look, you know what I mean, right? You’ve got to take care of yourself.”
Ryo’s voice was subdued and serious. Jin nodded as he sighed, “Yeah. I know.” And he did. For all that he and Ryo spent their time sniping at each other, it had always been in good fun. They knew that they could always depend on the other no matter what, and that made this one of Jin’s most precious friendships.
It used to be like this with Kame, he thought, mouth twisting, and looked up in time to see the object of thoughts stroll in the door.
“Got to go,” Jin said quickly into the phone. Ryo made a knowing sort of noise and let Jin hang up on him. Jin watched Kame murmur a good morning to Maru, who returned it, shifting around a bit until Junno opened his eyes and greeted Kame as well.
Jin tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and straightened in his seat, lifting a hand to gesture at Kame. “Morning,” he said with a smile and indicated the seat beside him. Kame’s answering smile was brief and slightly unsure, but he circled around the others to sit beside Jin. He looked tired and his hair was pulled back in a low, messy ponytail. Jin thought it made him look utterly human, devoid of the star that strutted around on stage in slinky outfits. He kind of liked it.
“Tired?” he asked, resisting the urge to tug at the ponytail.
Kame sighed and rolled his shoulders back, letting his neck loll from side to side. “Yeah.”
Jin punched him lightly in the arm and smiled when Kame grunted. They did talk sometimes, like he told Ryo, but sometimes they didn’t. And those times, he found, were okay too.
--
When Ueda seated himself next to Jin at lunch, Jin was attacking the skimpy salad with gusto. He hadn’t eaten since six that morning and, then, only a muffin and a bottle of apple juice. Ueda watched him in obvious amusement, hair tucked neatly behind his ears as he bit out of an apple.
Jin swallowed and grinned. “Hey, Ueda. What’s up?”
A magazine was slid across the tabletop and came to a stop as it hit the edge of the plastic salad container. Jin’s eyes darted from Ueda’s blank expression to the cover of the magazine, which featured a saucy, winking Hamasaki Ayumi. He twirled his fork and blinked. “Um,” he said, tilting his head slightly, confused.
“Page 54,” Ueda said around his apple.
Jin felt a sense of dread creep up upon him; nothing good had ever come of being handed tabloid magazines. The last time he’d been in this scenario, the magazine had been given to him by Yamapi in response to Jin’s inquiry as to where the hell Ryo had been for the past two weeks; discovering the story on Kusano’s drinking incident had made him worry for Ryo immediately, knowing that it would touch too many raw nerves. Hearing NEWS’ fate later through Hiro had come like a blow to the stomach. Jin didn’t want to imagine how it had affected his friends, and he knew to step carefully around the subject even now.
Warily, he lowered his fork and flipped open the magazine with his free hand. Colorful ads and text jumped out at him but he paid them little attention until he found the page Ueda had indicated.
Akanishi Jin and Kamenashi Kazuya friends again?
Caught shopping in Odaiba!
It was only a one-page article, but to the left of the main text box was a grainy picture of Jin and Kame in the crowded streets just outside a large shopping mall, laden with shopping bags. Jin had his arm slung casually around Kame’s shoulders and the camera had captured their profiles as they looked forward, sunglasses blocking out their eyes.
Jin’s fingers tapped a nervous rhythm over the picture. “Wow, I didn’t think they’d write an article about it,” he said, but there was no true surprise in his voice. Tabloid reporters would write anything concerning idols, so long as it sold. There had once been an article speculating on whether or not he’d lost a necklace. Speculation, mind you, and not even actual, hard fact. Jin looked up at Ueda across the table, a cautious grin on his face. “Heh, I guess Hiro’s gonna get on my case about this later. Didn’t know there were reporters.” He pouted. “Never do. They’re always blending in with the crowd.”
Ueda nodded but his mouth was twisted in a frown. He had finished his apple and was wiping his fingers with a napkin. “What were you doing with Kame?” he asked quietly, setting the napkin down. He avoided Jin’s gaze as he began fingering his bracelets.
“Ah, just-shopping. I mean, I guess I should be glad that the reporter actually got it right.” Jin’s chuckle was met with silence and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He glanced at his band mate and then bit his lip. He prodded at his salad for a moment.
The headline of the article seemed almost accusatory when he read it again. Caught shopping! Friends again? Were they friends again? Had they been friends previously and then fallen out so obviously that the media would see fit to comment?
The bracelets and wristbands Ueda was wearing clinked together as he continued to fidget, his expression almost unreadable.
“Hey,” Jin said, nudging Ueda’s foot with his own. “You okay?”
Ueda didn’t look at him. He didn’t smile the way he’d recently been doing at Jin, amused or indulgent. He didn’t roll his eyes and mutter something just loud enough for Jin to hear and burst out laughing, to everyone else’s confusion. He didn’t settle comfortably under Jin’s touch despite flinching away from everyone else’s. Instead, he left the magazine by Jin’s hand and pushed his chair back, rising to his feet. He collected his trash. “Hiro wants you back in ten minutes,” he said, and left.
--
Jin could hear the sounds of traffic and people outside as he lay on his back on the sofa. It was night outside, technically, as the sun had set hours ago, but street lamps lit the residential neighborhood, close enough to the main roads to catch the busy glow of taxis and storefront signs. He had his legs crossed and his cell phone out, moving his thumb rapidly across the keys as he text messaged Ryo.
Fucking Eisuke, Ryo was saying. He signed me up for another drama.
Ouch, Jin keyed back in sympathy. No sleep for you.
Thanks, replied Ryo and Jin grinned at the sarcasm blatant even over the small font on his phone screen. Ryo never let up, did he? What are you doing tonight?
Jin hesitated only slightly before sending his response. Going out with Kame. Clubbing, possibly, though he wasn’t sure. They’d only made rough plans to meet up tonight and go out and Jin assumed the specifics would be decided when Kame showed up. His eyes darted to the clock hanging on the opposite wall. Seven-thirty. Kame had said he’d be over around eight and they could go out and grab a bit to eat before going wherever it was they ended up choosing.
Where?
Sitting up, Jin scratched absentmindedly at one foot with his left hand as his right held his cell phone up. Dunno. Gotta go get dressed. He stood and stretched, shirt riding up as he rolled his neck and shoulders, loosening tight muscles. The phone was slipped into his pocket as he made his way toward the stairs, passing by the kitchen on the way. His mother was at the counter, cleaning up the dinner he’d picked at, explaining to her worried queries that he would be eating out later with Kame.
“Oh, are you going out with him?” she’d asked, a warm smile lighting her face. “That’s lovely, dear.”
She’d always been sweet on Kame, Jin thought with a quirk of his lips, though she hadn’t said anything when his visits had grown increasing infrequent and had eventually dropped off entirely. It was clear, however, that she approved of Jin rekindling his friendship with the other boy. It wasn’t too hopeful now to say that, Jin thought happily. While he’d have been reserved about the phrasing a few weeks ago, things had definitely improved by leaps and bounds, much to his own surprise.
Jin went into his room, passing his brother’s closed door on the way. Reo had closed himself inside immediately after dinner and Jin could hear the clacking of his computer keys. He really should get out more, Jin thought before focusing on the more important matter of getting dressed and ready in less than half an hour. Maybe more, he amended, recalling that Kame had a tendency towards tardiness.
His phone buzzed again as he fished it out of his pocket and placed it on the desk, unsnapping his belt and in the process of sliding out of his pants. Jin glanced at the screen and chortled when he read Ryo’s parting message:
I want pics if he gets drunk.
Of course. Ryo wouldn’t be Ryo if he didn’t get a good laugh at someone else’s expense. He was more or less harmless, though, and good-natured about it all. In any case, Jin had never seen Ryo truly exchange words with anyone, not seriously. They jibed at each other all the time but it was like a sort of ritual by now. Jin spared a moment to pity Ryo’s manager, who had cornered Jin’s friend an hour ago and was still prattling on about the new drama he’d gotten Ryo a role in, if Ryo’s exasperated messages were any indication.
Amused by his friend’s plight, Jin stripped off his shirt and stood in front of his closet in his boxers. He crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly, considering.
“God, ‘niisan. You’d think with all the money you make, you could at least afford some clothes.” Reo walked past, rolling his eyes, and Jin’s head turned automatically. His little brother had his jacket on and gave him a half-hearted, poor excuse for a wave as he went down the stairs.
Jin wrinkled his nose. Apparently Reo was going out after all.
“Shut up!” he shouted belatedly down the stairs.
“I’m going out,” said Reo as he slammed the front door shut.
Jin sighed and after ten minutes of further debate, pulled on a pair of black jeans, artistically ripped and covered with glitter, and a deep red tank top with a wide neck and leather laces up the sides. Then he proceeded to fiddle with his jewelry-rings, necklaces, armbands, repeat-until he had a creeping suspicion that he was beginning to act like a girl before a date. Not that he was entirely positive what a girl would do before a date, considering he’d never actually seen one, but he’d heard that it was something along these lines and it was most definitely not appropriate for a guy who was just going to party with a friend. A male friend, he reminded himself.
Jin forced himself to stop sneaking glances at the clock and went downstairs to help his mother in the kitchen. They finished in too short of a time, as she’d nearly been done anyway, and Jin was left to continue fidgeting. It was only eight, he noted, and threw himself back onto the couch with the remote, flipping through the channels at a speed usually reserved for Junno after he’d played a prank on Ueda and was running for his life.
An episode of anime and a half hour later, Jin was shifting restlessly over the couch. He glanced at the clock again and suppressed a sigh, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt, tension thrumming through every fiber of his being. Kame usually wasn’t this bad about being late. Wouldn’t he at least call?
Briefly, Jin took the time worry that something had happened to Kame on his way over. But what could happen on such a mundane, run-of-the-mill trip that Kame had made hundreds of times before?
Before his imagination could run away from him, Jin quickly dialed Kame’s number-still on speed dial #3-and held the phone to his ear. The mechanical ring sounded a total of five times before he heard a click and Kame’s casual voice recording, telling him to leave a message.
“Hey, Kame,” Jin said, playing with the ends of his hair, “it’s Jin. Just wondering where you are. Give me a call, okay? Bye.” He flipped his phone closed, his brows drawn, and continued to stare blankly at the wall for a few more minutes.
“Sweetie, I thought you were going out.” His mother stood at the foot of the stairs, a perplexed smile on her face as she called out to Jin.
Jin frowned. “Yeah. Me, too.” He got to his feet and gave his mother a half-hearted smile, adjusting his tank top. “It’s fine. I think Kame got caught up in whatever business he had earlier.” He slipped his hands into his pockets as he followed her up the stairs. Making excuses for Kame…he hadn’t done that in a long time; but then, he hadn’t been given the chance.
“That’s too bad. Perhaps some other time, then?” His mother patted him on the arm with a hopeful look in her eyes and he nodded numbly, the smile still fixed on his face. She gave his arm one last squeeze and disappeared into her room.
Jin turned away and expelled a long sigh. He ran a hand through his hair as he padded back into his room. There was no getting around it, was there? He’d been stood up. Kame had ditched him and, whether or not he’d had a valid excuse, not bothered to call. Was this what he’d been searching for when he’d attempted to rebuild their friendship? What had he been expecting? Was he so wrong for thinking that they’d made progress?
Fighting the urge to throw something, Jin collapsed onto his bed and glared at the ceiling. What did he want, anyway? Certainly not this frustration and this-hurt. The anger at being misled, by Kame or by his own wistfulness. The incredibly stupid part of him still hoping Kame would call and explain and somehow fix everything.
He could still go out tonight. It wasn’t late and there was always someone he could call that wasn’t busy, he was sure. But Jin didn’t feel like going out anymore. He rolled over onto his side and buried his face in the pillow, trying not to think. Eventually, he fell asleep on top of the covers, still dressed in his jeans and tank top.
--
Jin was woken by the incessant jangling of his phone. He blinked sleepily as he fumbled on the nightstand for his phone before realizing that it was still in the pocket of his jeans. He drew it out and flipped it open without checking who it was. His eyes drifted shut in the half-light of the early morning and he shivered slightly, groping for the covers with his free hand.
“H’lo?” he mumbled, scooting across the bed to tug the thin blanket free and slide himself under them. It may have been summer but it was always coldest before dawn.
“Jin? Jin! Damn it, are you up? We’re picking you up in fifteen minutes. Get your ass in gear.” A click and the call ended abruptly.
Hiro, thought Jin fuzzily, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. He opened them to look at the time displayed across his cell phone screen: six-fifteen. Way too damned early, he thought, as he stretched. Fifteen minutes would make it six-thirty and that was still too damned early.
He froze. Fifteen minutes?
“Shit,” he swore and threw off the covers, running across the room. He had to change and then brush his teeth and fix his hair and- Thirteen minutes later, Jin was had just struggled through the first clean t-shirt he’d found and was hunting for the brush he’d put down only five minutes ago. As he spotted it under the black jeans he’d kicked off earlier, his phone rang again.
Damn it, now where was his phone?
Under his tangled sheets, apparently, and Jin fished it out. He blinked when he saw the caller ID. Kame.
“Hey,” he said, carefully nonchalant, as he held the phone between ear and shoulder and ran the brush through his hair.
“Jin,” said Kame, “fuck, I am so sorry about last night. I was doing some fucking grocery shopping for my mom and ran into some crazy reporter and then there was this huge mess and screaming girls and I got stuck there for hours. It was already seven-thirty when I got home and I was going to get changed and head over but-” He paused here and Jin tossed the brush aside and went back into the bathroom to peer at his hair in the mirror.
“Yeah?”
“I was just going to lie down for awhile,” Kame said, sounding embarrassed, “but then I didn’t wake up until eleven and I called you but you didn’t answer. I left a message.”
Jin blinked. He hadn’t noticed a new message, but when he lowered the phone from his ear, sure enough there was a blinking blue envelope on the corner of the screen. Something eased inside him. He raised the phone to his ear again. “Hey, it happens,” he said, grabbing his wallet off the desk and shoving it in his back pocket. He headed down the stairs to the front door.
“Yeah, well. Sorry, man.” Kame still sounded upset and embarrassed. “Oh, hey, we’re outside right now.”
Jin thought he could hear other voices coming through from Kame’s phone. “Be right there,” he said and hung up. He slid on his shoes and slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. His parents were undoubtedly still asleep and as for Reo-Jin had no idea when he’d gotten back last night. He spotted the nondescript van parked in front of the gate and darted inside as inconspicuously as he could, though there were very few people out and about on the streets at this time of day.
He slid the van door shut behind him and was greeted with a chorus of “good morning”s from Maru and Kame and Hiro. Their manager directed the driver to the studio where they would spend the day filming a commercial. Lotte again, if Jin remembered correctly, but he wasn’t dwelling on it as he climbed past Maru and Hiro into the backseat.
“Hey,” said Kame as Jin squeezed in beside him. He cuffed Jin on the arm with a wry smile. “Seriously, I’m sorry about last night.”
There was a light sting from the impact of Kame’s rings and Jin blinked. In the dim light, Kame’s hair was an almost gray-brown color, feathering across his forehead and over his eyes. His earrings glinted, half-hidden. “You’re going to have to buy me something to make up for it,” Jin said brightly and Kame laughed, his eyes crinkling up as he turned to face the front again.
“Greedy,” announced Kame, smile turning sly as he elbowed Jin.
“Hey, I’m not the one who stood me up,” Jin said accusingly. Then he blinked again and screwed up his face in confusion. “Wait. I’m not the one who stood you up. Or-you’re not the one who stood you up-”
“As coherent as usual,” Maru chirped from his seat in front of Kame. He made a face at Jin.
“Shut up.” Jin crossed his arms and slunk down in his seat, noticing briefly that it was still cool in the early morning and Kame was warm against his side. His eyes lingered on Kame’s throat as it quivered slightly as Kame laughed again. The collar of his jacket was turned up, framing his bare throat and collarbone, exposed by his low-scoop neckline.
Jin bit his lip and determinedly batted away Maru’s hands, which were making threatening tickling gestures. “Stop,” he whined, mind on other things. He’d always known that Kame was attractive. Kame knew it, after all, and with the way he flaunted the fact, it would be hard for anyone else to miss. Jin knew what kind of looks the female hosts gave him, knew what kind of things the not-so-decorous members of their audience liked to scream.
Kame was attractive, Jin admitted, but- He stopped when he found that he couldn’t finish the sentence.
But Jin knew better? But Jin didn’t want to risk this friendship?
His brows knit as he sneaked a look at the other from beneath his bangs. What exactly did he want from Kame?
--
The bass was loud, thrumming in the air, and Jin could feel it in his bones as he moved. It was hot under the stage lights, wrapped tight in his white shirt and long jacket, and his hair was in his eyes. But the rhythm was in his blood, in his hips, and there was an expectant, excited audience that hummed like live electricity, so he swiveled and threw his head back, keening into the microphone as the rest of the band broke into the chorus.
Jin lowered his head with a smirk in time to catch Kame running his hand over himself, dragging down his loose shirt and eliciting screams. He flashed a grin at the audience and let his hand trail lower, hips swaying, and for a moment Jin couldn’t hear the music, only the blood rushing in his ears.
Kame tossed his head back and winked, still singing as he sashayed from the left side of the stage towards the center. He was still grinning when he drew to a stop next to Jin, his skin shimmering with sweat and multi-colored lights.
Dizzy with adrenaline, Jin swayed closer until there were mere centimeters between their bodies and then twisted his hips, lifting his arms above his head as he moved to the throb of the bass, of his heartbeat. It was natural, familiar, and months of flirting-dancing-teasing with Ueda and Maru and Koki and Junno all fell away as Jin once again found the one person who could complement and complete his performance.
He licked his lips, staring into Kame’s eyes with a challenge, and Kame swiveled again, bringing their hips into dangerously close contact.
Jin was singing again, unaware of when instinct had taken over and his mouth had started moving, but his throat was working and words were slipping out, sultry and low. At last he broke away from Kame with a quick spin and a quicker smile for the shrieking fans, impertinent and inviting and practiced. Tiny lights danced before his eyes as he swallowed, catching a glimpse of Kame slinking across the stage, liquid grace, to Koki, with eyes bright and color high in his cheeks.
He couldn’t breathe right, not when his blood sang louder than he did, for a touch he didn’t know he craved, arousal skimming across his every nerve ending. Jin exhaled once, hard, and then slid back into the rhythm, the microphone pressed obscenely close to his mouth and his damp whispers. The show went on.
Jin thought, Oh-oh shit.
--
He was the first of the six backstage when the performance was over and they were given roughly five minutes to change their clothes and get back on stage for the set. He ducked into the nearest bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, leaning back against it. His hand was down his pants before he could think, heart in his throat, and he was cupping himself, a little too desperate for gentleness.
Seven flicks of his wrist, hands hot and rough, and the image of Kame’s wet, parted mouth as he danced against Jin, and Jin came, biting back a cry.
Half of it was adrenaline, he knew, from the high of being on stage, of the cheers and screams of the audience, of the thrill that got him every time. It was the other half that made him shudder, the glisten of Kame’s skin fresh in his mind and his fading erection softening in his hands.
Three minutes until he had to be on stage again and Jin hitched his breath, steeling himself as he cleaned himself off with the paper towels. He was still shaky when he opened the door-oh God, he’d forgotten to lock it-and let himself be swept up in the mad bustle backstage, stripping off his shirt in preparation for his costume change.
He evaded Ueda questioning where he’d gone and was halfway into his new outfit when his eyes met Kame’s and his stomach triple-flipped. He ducked his head.
This was not what he’d been looking for, Jin thought, hot and unsettled and ill at ease as he buttoned up his shirt with rapid fingers. He’d only wanted Kame’s friendship again, comforting and reassuring the way it used to be. He’d wanted the security of what they’d shared in the past. Nothing more.
Except…he’d just jerked himself off in the bathroom, picturing Kame on his knees.
Oh God, what was he doing?
--
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