[Vix] Nice Day for a White Wedding
Nice Day for a White Wedding
PG; Yamapi/Jin, Jin/Rina
For the Pin-meme prompt Jin and Rina get married. And Yamapi has to watch his baby sister, whom he'd do anything to keep happy, marry the only person he's ever loved, here.
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It had all started off so innocently. Best friends from the moment they laid eyes on each other, Jin all but lived on the Yamashita's sofa, a permanent, Akanishi-sized dent in the cushion. Rina had been so small then, blushing and scampering away whenever Jin was around, and the pair of them had thought her little crush was hilarious, teased her mercilessly for it until Yamapi's mother had scolded them.
Time had gone by so fast back then, days filled with classes from eight in the morning until nine at night, biology, english, maths, dance, vocals, gym. Dinner was wolfed down during the walk from school to work, because by the time they arrived home just before ten, they were too tired to do anything more than shower and fall into bed - usually the same one.
It's not all that different now, except the hours are longer and when he collapses onto his bed, it's always empty.
Yamapi doesn't remember when me and Jin became Jin and I, when he'd gone from being a slightly selfish child to the polite young man everyone expected him to be. He doesn't remember, either, when me and Jin or Jin and I had become all he wanted from life, the moment he'd realised that his life was Jin and that all he could see of his future was beer and pizza on the sofa with bad American movies, laughter covering up Jin's horrible translations, untidy brown hair peeking out of the top of the covers in the morning, wide yawns and bare feet padding down the hall and sleepy smiles over breakfast.
He doesn't say anything, though, can't, won't. It's not that he needs time to come to terms with it - Jin's always been a constant in his life, and taking that next step doesn't feel anywhere near as strange as Yamapi thinks it ought to - but by the time he finally notices that there isn't space for a woman in his life next to Jin, Jin and Rina have already been going steady for six months.
Yamapi loses his faith in fate the day he realises he's in love with his best friend, and can't do anything about it.
Rina is happy, more than happy, and Jin, too, smiles even more than before. Jin's being the man Yamapi's always wanted for his little sister - he's steady, reliable, dependable (Everything you're not as a friend, Yamapi had laughed one night when it was just the two of them, and Jin had kicked him off of the sofa), and his eyes shine with adoration every time he looks at her.
Yamapi's too busy not looking closely enough to let his own feelings show that he doesn't see the same sparkle in Jin's eyes for him, too.
Yamapi's mother is over the moon when he finally proposes, and when Rina tells them the date over dinner, Yamapi smiles and congratulates them just like he should. While the women are fawning over the ring sparkling on Rina's finger, Jin frowns gently, questioningly across the table at him, and Yamapi hates that he still loves the way Jin can read him like a book. He excuses himself with a nod of apology under the pretence of an early start in the morning, and escapes before Jin can start asking questions.
It's a white, Western-style wedding; of course it is, it's Jin. It's small, private, and their families and close friends are all gathered, waiting.
Yamapi knows this is it. Jin is straightening his jacket in the mirror and running his hands over his hair, slicked back into a tight ponytail while Yamapi watches, watches, can't tear himself away now even if his life depended on it. Then Jin's looking at his reflection, turning to cock his head to one side with that tiny furrow in his brow that Yamapi always wants to smooth out with his thumb, and he can't keep it out of his eyes any more. He can't pretend any more, can't go on wondering what if, needs to know with every fibre of his being.
What is it? Jin's asking, but he knows already, What's wrong?
Yamapi doesn't answer - they've never needed words before - and when he takes that final step, Jin meets him half way, pressing their lips together.
Jin tastes of salt, of desperation, and he kisses back like he's a dying man trying to drink the life from Yamapi's mouth. Yamapi's hands fumble with Jin's hair, fingers tangling and pulling it free, mussing it up because Jin's never been neat and tidy. Jin's face is wet when he pulls away, closing puffy eyes against Yamapi's tiny, pathetic little whimper, and he covers swollen lips and a red nose with shaking hands, drawing in a long, shuddering breath.
I'm sorry, he's saying, turning his back. Yamapi can feel the world crashing down around him and this, this is so much worse than not knowing.
You took too long.
PG; Yamapi/Jin, Jin/Rina
For the Pin-meme prompt Jin and Rina get married. And Yamapi has to watch his baby sister, whom he'd do anything to keep happy, marry the only person he's ever loved, here.
-
It had all started off so innocently. Best friends from the moment they laid eyes on each other, Jin all but lived on the Yamashita's sofa, a permanent, Akanishi-sized dent in the cushion. Rina had been so small then, blushing and scampering away whenever Jin was around, and the pair of them had thought her little crush was hilarious, teased her mercilessly for it until Yamapi's mother had scolded them.
Time had gone by so fast back then, days filled with classes from eight in the morning until nine at night, biology, english, maths, dance, vocals, gym. Dinner was wolfed down during the walk from school to work, because by the time they arrived home just before ten, they were too tired to do anything more than shower and fall into bed - usually the same one.
It's not all that different now, except the hours are longer and when he collapses onto his bed, it's always empty.
Yamapi doesn't remember when me and Jin became Jin and I, when he'd gone from being a slightly selfish child to the polite young man everyone expected him to be. He doesn't remember, either, when me and Jin or Jin and I had become all he wanted from life, the moment he'd realised that his life was Jin and that all he could see of his future was beer and pizza on the sofa with bad American movies, laughter covering up Jin's horrible translations, untidy brown hair peeking out of the top of the covers in the morning, wide yawns and bare feet padding down the hall and sleepy smiles over breakfast.
He doesn't say anything, though, can't, won't. It's not that he needs time to come to terms with it - Jin's always been a constant in his life, and taking that next step doesn't feel anywhere near as strange as Yamapi thinks it ought to - but by the time he finally notices that there isn't space for a woman in his life next to Jin, Jin and Rina have already been going steady for six months.
Yamapi loses his faith in fate the day he realises he's in love with his best friend, and can't do anything about it.
Rina is happy, more than happy, and Jin, too, smiles even more than before. Jin's being the man Yamapi's always wanted for his little sister - he's steady, reliable, dependable (Everything you're not as a friend, Yamapi had laughed one night when it was just the two of them, and Jin had kicked him off of the sofa), and his eyes shine with adoration every time he looks at her.
Yamapi's too busy not looking closely enough to let his own feelings show that he doesn't see the same sparkle in Jin's eyes for him, too.
Yamapi's mother is over the moon when he finally proposes, and when Rina tells them the date over dinner, Yamapi smiles and congratulates them just like he should. While the women are fawning over the ring sparkling on Rina's finger, Jin frowns gently, questioningly across the table at him, and Yamapi hates that he still loves the way Jin can read him like a book. He excuses himself with a nod of apology under the pretence of an early start in the morning, and escapes before Jin can start asking questions.
It's a white, Western-style wedding; of course it is, it's Jin. It's small, private, and their families and close friends are all gathered, waiting.
Yamapi knows this is it. Jin is straightening his jacket in the mirror and running his hands over his hair, slicked back into a tight ponytail while Yamapi watches, watches, can't tear himself away now even if his life depended on it. Then Jin's looking at his reflection, turning to cock his head to one side with that tiny furrow in his brow that Yamapi always wants to smooth out with his thumb, and he can't keep it out of his eyes any more. He can't pretend any more, can't go on wondering what if, needs to know with every fibre of his being.
What is it? Jin's asking, but he knows already, What's wrong?
Yamapi doesn't answer - they've never needed words before - and when he takes that final step, Jin meets him half way, pressing their lips together.
Jin tastes of salt, of desperation, and he kisses back like he's a dying man trying to drink the life from Yamapi's mouth. Yamapi's hands fumble with Jin's hair, fingers tangling and pulling it free, mussing it up because Jin's never been neat and tidy. Jin's face is wet when he pulls away, closing puffy eyes against Yamapi's tiny, pathetic little whimper, and he covers swollen lips and a red nose with shaking hands, drawing in a long, shuddering breath.
I'm sorry, he's saying, turning his back. Yamapi can feel the world crashing down around him and this, this is so much worse than not knowing.
You took too long.