Prompt 5: Break ups are good for the soul - Team Present
Title: Don’t Say I Didn’t Try
Rating: R
Pairing: Akame, Pin
Summary: In which there is a break up, and Kame moves on.
Prompt: Break ups are good for the soul
Warnings: Swearing, ridiculous amounts of angst, potential personal feelings coming through regarding the whole “Jin leaving KAT-TUN” issue.
Notes: Much love to N for the beta and to S for listening to me flail and panic. This was written in a rush so apologies for any mistakes I’ve somehow missed.
Kame folds his jacket over his arm and slides his sunglasses further up his nose. It’s uncomfortably hot, the weather close and the hint of rain tangy in the air and he wishes he’d thought to leave his coat at home. He focuses on sliding through the busy crowds at Shibuya station keeping his head down and his eyes focused on his feet, desperately trying to pass himself off as just another person trying to make their way home on a cloudy, overcast day. He’s tired and restless, head pounding and skin itching, and as he glances up at the departures board as he moves to the subway entrance, he has to fight down the urge to just get on the first train that’s going as far away from Tokyo as possible.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he isn’t even surprised when he glances down and he sees Jin’s number flash up on the screen. He’s been ringing off and on for the last hour, and Kame knows better than anyone else that once Jin’s decided to be a stubborn bastard he’ll stay that way until he gets what he wants.
Kame rubs a hand along the line of his throat, desperately fighting down the urge to flush as he remembers the dark hungry look in Jin’s eyes as he’d slid his thumb across the line of Yamapi’s hip, the way Yamapi’s mouth had fallen open, tongue resting softly on his bottom lip, a perfect pretty flush across the lines of his jaw and cheeks and the way he’d left halfway through, pushing Jin away from where he was licking a slow line along his thigh and ignoring the slightly startled yelp Yamapi had let out when he’d shoved his way to the door. Fuck.
He turns his phone off and slides it back down into his bag. Management is due to ring him to organise songs for the new album but for once Kame doesn’t give a damn. For now, he’s unavailable.
~ ~ ~
“What?” Koki growls when he finally picks up his phone and Jin snorts slightly in reply.
“Charming as usual,” he drawls, leaning forwards to pour himself another shot of tequila.
“Akanishi, I’m busy right now. So unless you’ve managed to either get yourself involved in a car accident and I’m the only one available to pick your sorry arse up or you’ve somehow managed to further fuck things up with Kame, I don’t want to know.”
Jin swallows his shot, tries to think of a comeback and knows from the exhale on the other end of the phone when Koki works it out. Koki always seems to know when Jin’s fucked things up with Kame. It’s like a freakish sixth sense that Koki has developed in the last year, months of being shoved into photo shoots with Kame taking its toll, until Koki is as bizarrely possessive of Kame as Jin used to be (and still is, if he’s honest).
“What the fuck did you do now Akanishi?” he practically snarls and Jin stifles the urge to tell Koki to fuck off.
“Nothing, ok. He just came ‘round at the wrong time. Saw something and freaked out.”
Koki laughs, the sound low and bitter. ”Let me guess, you and Yamashita got horny, decided to fuck, left the door unlocked and Kame caught you. Jesus, Akanishi you’re an arsehole sometimes. It’s bad enough you’re fucking leaving us in the middle of a tour, the last thing Kame needs to deal with is you with your dick in Yamashita’s hand.”
“Look, I’m not doing this with you right now” Jin snaps tersely. “You can lecture me on Monday when we have that damn meeting, ok. I just wanted to check if you’d seen Kame. You haven’t and that’s that. I’ll see you soon.”
He feels Yamapi’s gaze on him across the room as he cuts the connection, searching and slightly worried.
“He hasn’t seen him,” he says flatly.
Yamapi sighs, moving to the sofa and sitting down heavily. “Jin,” he begins, voice soft and Jin waves a hand to stop him, suddenly desperately unwilling to have this conversation with Yamapi right now.
He knows what Yamapi’s going to say before he even opens his mouth, knows that if he says it, things will change. They’re best friends, have been for years now and Jin knows that Yamapi will be his best man at his wedding, that they’ll share stories about their kids, that they’ll grow old together, two wiry old men, bent with time and tied together by history. That even if Jin leaves the Jimusho, Yamapi will always have his back, always cheer him on in everything he does even if he disagrees with Jin’s reasons behind it. But there are things they don’t talk about, a bevy of secrets and stories locked inside a Pandora’s box and Jin knows that if they open it, if they sit down and talk about Kame, about what he means to Yamapi, what he meant (and still means) to Jin they’ll have to start again, try to mold themselves into a newer, more complicated friendship. And Jin isn’t sure he’s ready for that.
“I’ll check his apartment,” he mutters, standing up and slipping into his coat.
~ ~ ~
Kame remembers how Jin used to make jokes about Kame being his little house wife, mouth curved up in a leer as he watched Kame make dinner, or try to organise the piles of washing Jin insisted gave his apartment a feeling of hominess. Nine times out of ten Kame had rolled his eyes and thrown a dirty sock or a tea towel at Jin’s head, but on rare occasions he’d allowed himself to smile up at Jin, a familiar one that had let Jin’s mouth curve into a smile, that had meant it would be hours before they’d be ready to leave the apartment again.
Now he just wants to scream and shout, run as far away from everything as he can. He’s learnt about Jin’s moods, know they’re as changing as running water, but right now he just wants to shake Jin until he understands. Kame doesn’t begrudge Jin wanting to leave; he’s aware as the rest of them how unhappy Jin is with being in KAT-TUN, in jumping when management tell him to. What Kame can’t forgive is the way Jin hadn’t told them himself, the way they’d had to learn from management that Akanishi is graduating from KAT-TUN for six months, that it’s not official, that Johnny himself is waiting to see how successful Jin will be in America. And then Johnny telling them that Jin will have to work to get back into KAT-TUN, that if he fails he can’t just come back as the “A” as if nothing’s changed.
Kame remembers Maru’s shock and confusion, the way he’d softly asked management if that meant Jin wasn’t coming back, Ueda’s quiet silence mixed in with the dimming of Junno’s smile, and finally Koki’s rage and anger, snarling about the golden boy being given enough goddamn chances. Kame had kept quiet, fists clenching as the first waves of betrayal had hit. He’d glanced up to see Johnny and their manager looking at him, the expectation that he be the one to act sensibly, to tell the others that Jin deserved this chance and for once he’d refused.
He can still recall their manager’s surprised outrage when Kame had spit out that Jin didn’t deserve to come back, fury and rage rolling up inside him until Ueda had slipped a hand around Kame’s wrist and pulled him back to the dressing room. Kame had desperately rooted through his stage costumes, forcing his mind to focus on nothing more than the interview he has tomorrow morning, on the next round of concerts.
And then to go to Jin’s apartment, expecting to find him at least sorry for not even having the nerve to tell them he was leaving himself, but instead to find him wrapped up in Yamashita’s arms as if Kame’s world wasn’t being tilted on its sides had been the final straw.
Which is why Kame ends up in a bar tucked away in Shibuya, one in which he knows people either won’t know or care who he is.
He gets to his apartment hours later, 4 shots of tequila and a six-pack of Asahi shared with Shuntaro, his Yamanade co-star, buzzing in his stomach. It’s easy for Kame to fall through the door and collapse onto his sofa, wondering if he should get up and shower, knowing he’ll regret it in the morning if he doesn’t.
It’s as he’s contemplating this that Kame spots the jumper half tucked under his table. The jumper is blue and green, and the sleeve is torn at the cuff from wear. Kame can still recall the way he used to slide his thumb through the hole to press against the inside of Jin’s wrist, and how Jin used to shrug into it after a shower, claiming the soft wool felt good against his skin right before Kame used to pull it off of him again.
Kame thinks about the way he’d slid the jumper up over Jin’s stomach, running his hand, and then later his tongue, following the flat line of Jin’s abs, tracing kanji and numbers up along Jin’s chest, until he’d reached Jin’s shoulders, greedily listening for the way Jin’s voice had hitched and promised him the world (Kame wanted to tell Jin that he shouldn’t make fake promises like that).
Kame remembers the way Jin had thrown the jumper onto the floor after their third fight of the week, the way it had stayed there for another three nights until Jin came back from Yamapi’s, apologies and promises sliding off of his tongue like honey.
Kame stares at the jumper and considers tearing it up, slashing it at with the scissors until there’s nothing left but wool and regrets. And then he feels stupid. It’s not as if he and Jin were exclusive, he thinks with disgust. Christ, half the time they could barely stand to be in the same room, Jin’s bored indifference grating against Kame’s work ethic like lemon on a cheese grater.
Kame’s about to get up and throw the jumper into the depths of his wardrobe where it can’t taunt him with memories, when his doorbell begins to buzz incessantly. Kame scowls and considers ignoring it, but Sawuti-san next door is old and Kame promised to keep the noise down after the last time Jin turned up with his drunk friends at 3 am.
He swings the door open without taking it off the chain and scowls up at Yamapi, strangely unsurprised to see him there.
“What?” he snarls ignoring the way Yamapi flinches slightly in surprise. It’s been years since Kame has had anything negative to say to Yamapi and it brings back that familiar flood of angry betrayed feelings Kame had grown used to feeling, before a drama about three misfits and a song about being best friends forever.
“Um, Kame. Look Jin would have come himself but his manager called him in, ok. So you know. I figured it would be a good idea to talk to you myself. Try to clear things up,” Yamapi says, mouth curving into that familiar smile, the Golden Boy of the Jimusho relying on his usual charms, so used to getting his own way that he looks momentarily surprised when Kame laughs at him, a low bitter sound.
“Save me the humble shit, Yamashita,” Kame sneers, hand tightening where it’s pressed against the door. “If Jin had really wanted to see me he would have ignored his manager’s summons; Christ he does it enough normally. But Jesus, what do I expect? He didn’t even tell us he was leaving.”
Yamapi flinches and Kame realises distantly that he was right, that Jin isn’t busy, he just can’t be bothered to make an effort to see Kame. He’s surprised Jin still has the power to disappoint him. After all, theirs is a relationship built on let downs.
“He didn’t mean--” Yamapi begins to say, before Kame cuts him off with a sharp gesture, hand already sliding to slam the door shut.
“Please don’t. If you ever respected me, you will not lie to me for him,” Kame says, suddenly tired of fighting, of second guessing everything until he feels like he could scream. Part of him knows it’s not Yamapi’s fault that Jin prefers him, that he’s always chosen Yamapi over Kame, over KAT-TUN, hell over official meetings with their manager.
Yamapi sighs, shifting his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry Kame. For, you know, being an idiot. Look, you’ve got my number, so when you’ve got time give me a call, ok? Just, before I go, I want you to know he does love you in his own way. It’s just hard for him to show it sometimes.”
He smiles once awkwardly at Kame before turning and shuffling down the corridor. Kame slowly slides the door shut, leaning his head against it with a long sigh. The problem is that he does understand that whilst Jin has a big heart, he’s always struggled to understand that loving everyone equally sometimes isn’t enough. Kame staggers to his sofa and picks his phone up from the coffee table, staring blankly at the “ten missed calls” message on his screen, all ten from Jin.
Kame picks up his iPhone and slides through his contacts, pausing on Jin’s name. Maybe it’s time he got a clear explanation from him. Or maybe it’s time they moved on, put whatever it is between them to rest, Kame thinks darkly and with a simple click presses delete.
Poll Team Present
Rating: R
Pairing: Akame, Pin
Summary: In which there is a break up, and Kame moves on.
Prompt: Break ups are good for the soul
Warnings: Swearing, ridiculous amounts of angst, potential personal feelings coming through regarding the whole “Jin leaving KAT-TUN” issue.
Notes: Much love to N for the beta and to S for listening to me flail and panic. This was written in a rush so apologies for any mistakes I’ve somehow missed.
Kame folds his jacket over his arm and slides his sunglasses further up his nose. It’s uncomfortably hot, the weather close and the hint of rain tangy in the air and he wishes he’d thought to leave his coat at home. He focuses on sliding through the busy crowds at Shibuya station keeping his head down and his eyes focused on his feet, desperately trying to pass himself off as just another person trying to make their way home on a cloudy, overcast day. He’s tired and restless, head pounding and skin itching, and as he glances up at the departures board as he moves to the subway entrance, he has to fight down the urge to just get on the first train that’s going as far away from Tokyo as possible.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he isn’t even surprised when he glances down and he sees Jin’s number flash up on the screen. He’s been ringing off and on for the last hour, and Kame knows better than anyone else that once Jin’s decided to be a stubborn bastard he’ll stay that way until he gets what he wants.
Kame rubs a hand along the line of his throat, desperately fighting down the urge to flush as he remembers the dark hungry look in Jin’s eyes as he’d slid his thumb across the line of Yamapi’s hip, the way Yamapi’s mouth had fallen open, tongue resting softly on his bottom lip, a perfect pretty flush across the lines of his jaw and cheeks and the way he’d left halfway through, pushing Jin away from where he was licking a slow line along his thigh and ignoring the slightly startled yelp Yamapi had let out when he’d shoved his way to the door. Fuck.
He turns his phone off and slides it back down into his bag. Management is due to ring him to organise songs for the new album but for once Kame doesn’t give a damn. For now, he’s unavailable.
~ ~ ~
“What?” Koki growls when he finally picks up his phone and Jin snorts slightly in reply.
“Charming as usual,” he drawls, leaning forwards to pour himself another shot of tequila.
“Akanishi, I’m busy right now. So unless you’ve managed to either get yourself involved in a car accident and I’m the only one available to pick your sorry arse up or you’ve somehow managed to further fuck things up with Kame, I don’t want to know.”
Jin swallows his shot, tries to think of a comeback and knows from the exhale on the other end of the phone when Koki works it out. Koki always seems to know when Jin’s fucked things up with Kame. It’s like a freakish sixth sense that Koki has developed in the last year, months of being shoved into photo shoots with Kame taking its toll, until Koki is as bizarrely possessive of Kame as Jin used to be (and still is, if he’s honest).
“What the fuck did you do now Akanishi?” he practically snarls and Jin stifles the urge to tell Koki to fuck off.
“Nothing, ok. He just came ‘round at the wrong time. Saw something and freaked out.”
Koki laughs, the sound low and bitter. ”Let me guess, you and Yamashita got horny, decided to fuck, left the door unlocked and Kame caught you. Jesus, Akanishi you’re an arsehole sometimes. It’s bad enough you’re fucking leaving us in the middle of a tour, the last thing Kame needs to deal with is you with your dick in Yamashita’s hand.”
“Look, I’m not doing this with you right now” Jin snaps tersely. “You can lecture me on Monday when we have that damn meeting, ok. I just wanted to check if you’d seen Kame. You haven’t and that’s that. I’ll see you soon.”
He feels Yamapi’s gaze on him across the room as he cuts the connection, searching and slightly worried.
“He hasn’t seen him,” he says flatly.
Yamapi sighs, moving to the sofa and sitting down heavily. “Jin,” he begins, voice soft and Jin waves a hand to stop him, suddenly desperately unwilling to have this conversation with Yamapi right now.
He knows what Yamapi’s going to say before he even opens his mouth, knows that if he says it, things will change. They’re best friends, have been for years now and Jin knows that Yamapi will be his best man at his wedding, that they’ll share stories about their kids, that they’ll grow old together, two wiry old men, bent with time and tied together by history. That even if Jin leaves the Jimusho, Yamapi will always have his back, always cheer him on in everything he does even if he disagrees with Jin’s reasons behind it. But there are things they don’t talk about, a bevy of secrets and stories locked inside a Pandora’s box and Jin knows that if they open it, if they sit down and talk about Kame, about what he means to Yamapi, what he meant (and still means) to Jin they’ll have to start again, try to mold themselves into a newer, more complicated friendship. And Jin isn’t sure he’s ready for that.
“I’ll check his apartment,” he mutters, standing up and slipping into his coat.
~ ~ ~
Kame remembers how Jin used to make jokes about Kame being his little house wife, mouth curved up in a leer as he watched Kame make dinner, or try to organise the piles of washing Jin insisted gave his apartment a feeling of hominess. Nine times out of ten Kame had rolled his eyes and thrown a dirty sock or a tea towel at Jin’s head, but on rare occasions he’d allowed himself to smile up at Jin, a familiar one that had let Jin’s mouth curve into a smile, that had meant it would be hours before they’d be ready to leave the apartment again.
Now he just wants to scream and shout, run as far away from everything as he can. He’s learnt about Jin’s moods, know they’re as changing as running water, but right now he just wants to shake Jin until he understands. Kame doesn’t begrudge Jin wanting to leave; he’s aware as the rest of them how unhappy Jin is with being in KAT-TUN, in jumping when management tell him to. What Kame can’t forgive is the way Jin hadn’t told them himself, the way they’d had to learn from management that Akanishi is graduating from KAT-TUN for six months, that it’s not official, that Johnny himself is waiting to see how successful Jin will be in America. And then Johnny telling them that Jin will have to work to get back into KAT-TUN, that if he fails he can’t just come back as the “A” as if nothing’s changed.
Kame remembers Maru’s shock and confusion, the way he’d softly asked management if that meant Jin wasn’t coming back, Ueda’s quiet silence mixed in with the dimming of Junno’s smile, and finally Koki’s rage and anger, snarling about the golden boy being given enough goddamn chances. Kame had kept quiet, fists clenching as the first waves of betrayal had hit. He’d glanced up to see Johnny and their manager looking at him, the expectation that he be the one to act sensibly, to tell the others that Jin deserved this chance and for once he’d refused.
He can still recall their manager’s surprised outrage when Kame had spit out that Jin didn’t deserve to come back, fury and rage rolling up inside him until Ueda had slipped a hand around Kame’s wrist and pulled him back to the dressing room. Kame had desperately rooted through his stage costumes, forcing his mind to focus on nothing more than the interview he has tomorrow morning, on the next round of concerts.
And then to go to Jin’s apartment, expecting to find him at least sorry for not even having the nerve to tell them he was leaving himself, but instead to find him wrapped up in Yamashita’s arms as if Kame’s world wasn’t being tilted on its sides had been the final straw.
Which is why Kame ends up in a bar tucked away in Shibuya, one in which he knows people either won’t know or care who he is.
He gets to his apartment hours later, 4 shots of tequila and a six-pack of Asahi shared with Shuntaro, his Yamanade co-star, buzzing in his stomach. It’s easy for Kame to fall through the door and collapse onto his sofa, wondering if he should get up and shower, knowing he’ll regret it in the morning if he doesn’t.
It’s as he’s contemplating this that Kame spots the jumper half tucked under his table. The jumper is blue and green, and the sleeve is torn at the cuff from wear. Kame can still recall the way he used to slide his thumb through the hole to press against the inside of Jin’s wrist, and how Jin used to shrug into it after a shower, claiming the soft wool felt good against his skin right before Kame used to pull it off of him again.
Kame thinks about the way he’d slid the jumper up over Jin’s stomach, running his hand, and then later his tongue, following the flat line of Jin’s abs, tracing kanji and numbers up along Jin’s chest, until he’d reached Jin’s shoulders, greedily listening for the way Jin’s voice had hitched and promised him the world (Kame wanted to tell Jin that he shouldn’t make fake promises like that).
Kame remembers the way Jin had thrown the jumper onto the floor after their third fight of the week, the way it had stayed there for another three nights until Jin came back from Yamapi’s, apologies and promises sliding off of his tongue like honey.
Kame stares at the jumper and considers tearing it up, slashing it at with the scissors until there’s nothing left but wool and regrets. And then he feels stupid. It’s not as if he and Jin were exclusive, he thinks with disgust. Christ, half the time they could barely stand to be in the same room, Jin’s bored indifference grating against Kame’s work ethic like lemon on a cheese grater.
Kame’s about to get up and throw the jumper into the depths of his wardrobe where it can’t taunt him with memories, when his doorbell begins to buzz incessantly. Kame scowls and considers ignoring it, but Sawuti-san next door is old and Kame promised to keep the noise down after the last time Jin turned up with his drunk friends at 3 am.
He swings the door open without taking it off the chain and scowls up at Yamapi, strangely unsurprised to see him there.
“What?” he snarls ignoring the way Yamapi flinches slightly in surprise. It’s been years since Kame has had anything negative to say to Yamapi and it brings back that familiar flood of angry betrayed feelings Kame had grown used to feeling, before a drama about three misfits and a song about being best friends forever.
“Um, Kame. Look Jin would have come himself but his manager called him in, ok. So you know. I figured it would be a good idea to talk to you myself. Try to clear things up,” Yamapi says, mouth curving into that familiar smile, the Golden Boy of the Jimusho relying on his usual charms, so used to getting his own way that he looks momentarily surprised when Kame laughs at him, a low bitter sound.
“Save me the humble shit, Yamashita,” Kame sneers, hand tightening where it’s pressed against the door. “If Jin had really wanted to see me he would have ignored his manager’s summons; Christ he does it enough normally. But Jesus, what do I expect? He didn’t even tell us he was leaving.”
Yamapi flinches and Kame realises distantly that he was right, that Jin isn’t busy, he just can’t be bothered to make an effort to see Kame. He’s surprised Jin still has the power to disappoint him. After all, theirs is a relationship built on let downs.
“He didn’t mean--” Yamapi begins to say, before Kame cuts him off with a sharp gesture, hand already sliding to slam the door shut.
“Please don’t. If you ever respected me, you will not lie to me for him,” Kame says, suddenly tired of fighting, of second guessing everything until he feels like he could scream. Part of him knows it’s not Yamapi’s fault that Jin prefers him, that he’s always chosen Yamapi over Kame, over KAT-TUN, hell over official meetings with their manager.
Yamapi sighs, shifting his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry Kame. For, you know, being an idiot. Look, you’ve got my number, so when you’ve got time give me a call, ok? Just, before I go, I want you to know he does love you in his own way. It’s just hard for him to show it sometimes.”
He smiles once awkwardly at Kame before turning and shuffling down the corridor. Kame slowly slides the door shut, leaning his head against it with a long sigh. The problem is that he does understand that whilst Jin has a big heart, he’s always struggled to understand that loving everyone equally sometimes isn’t enough. Kame staggers to his sofa and picks his phone up from the coffee table, staring blankly at the “ten missed calls” message on his screen, all ten from Jin.
Kame picks up his iPhone and slides through his contacts, pausing on Jin’s name. Maybe it’s time he got a clear explanation from him. Or maybe it’s time they moved on, put whatever it is between them to rest, Kame thinks darkly and with a simple click presses delete.
Poll Team Present