Fic for tia-junan (9/9)
+part eight
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Kame's flying in and out of Washington so he takes the train down to DC four days before Christmas, briefly drops in on Sesamo to touch base with Sanjay and the managers before going on vacation, and boards a flight to Madrid. He tells himself it's fine. He'll get back just before New Year's and he'll have a few days in DC before he needs to head back to New York and Jin. Plenty of time to process.
The time away will be good for him, Kame tells himself. He spends so little time with his family that he's looking forward to seeing his nieces and nephews and catching up with his brothers and their wives. When he arrives he still has to do all his Christmas shopping, as there had been virtually no time before he left. He tries to hunt around in search of a few things to bring back with him.
While he watches the kids play, he takes his brother's gentle ribbing at all the Americanisms in his English and how bad his Japanese has become.
"But it was never good to begin with," Kame protests. Their parents were so often away when he was growing up - Kame had spent all his time with his Spanish friends and the housekeeper and their cook from Barcelona who encouraged his earliest interest in cooking. Even now, when he has more Japanese friends than he ever had growing up, they nearly always speak in English. It just reminds Kame how little he belongs anywhere anymore - if he ever did. He's always been trapped between worlds, in some kind of transit, a foot in different places.
Of course the conversation only makes Kame think of Jin and all his years wandering around Asia - of Jin having to get by with his similarly-bad Japanese and trying to pick up enough of the local languages to learn something from his travels. Discounting his own experience traveling and working his way from Madrid to Milan, which Kame doesn't really think of as difficult considering he was already fluent in Spanish and English and he had enough French - getting by in Europe and learning Italian wasn't remotely in the same neighborhood as Jin going to a culinary school in Chengdu. He wonders if he ever would have had the gumption to do something like that.
He can't feel bad about his life choices, however - and he's no longer angry about Jin's. He and Jin took different paths to arrive where they each are today, and they've both achieved successes that have made them happy. And it turns out that maybe in the end they wanted different things. Kame thinks they both had to grow up, to grow separately, for them to realize that their professional lives didn't have to be chained together. Kame spent so long being angry about something that now seems like the most normal and reasonable thing in the world. He wonders why it took Jin coming back for him to make his peace with it.
But that's just it - Jin came back. For reasons that are still unclear, no matter what explanations Jin's advanced, and that uncertainty is partly why Kame feels so unsettled. Because it wasn't just their professional lives that diverged when Jin left - there was a time, in another life, when Kame couldn't imagine his life without Jin in it.
When Kame's being perfectly honest with himself, he knows his anger at Jin came as much from that personal loss as from anything else. He'd lost his business partner, yes, but he'd also lost his touchstone, the one person in the world who infuriated him and grounded him, and simultaneously made him deliriously happy. The sunny, stormy affection they'd shared almost from that first day, banging their skulls together on that soccer pitch in Madrid - it defined long years of Kame's life. Of who he is. When he lets himself think about, it's still astonishing to him that they were together longer than they've been apart.
In a million years, Kame never imagined any of that could be resurrected. Not just resurrected, but transformed. They're different people now and somehow Kame still wants to talk to Jin at the end of the day.
He wants - so much, and more.
--
There's a message from Yamapi when Kame arrives at Dulles airport, just asking if he doesn't mind calling in the following day to talk about something in advance of his return to New York. Kame furrows his brow at the vague language, but he sends his agreement. It's not like he has anything specific going on for the next few days aside from trying to get his head in order and try to rest up as much as possible before diving back into the fray. Meisa had already admonished him about making the most of his first vacation in years.
Jin mostly left him alone while he was in Madrid, sending only a few messages, never calling, as though he wanted to give Kame all the space in the world.
Truth is, Kame misses him. He's going to do his best to enjoy his last days of freedom, but he's already thinking ahead to being back. He's wondering why he didn't ask Jin to come down.
--
Kame is, therefore, dumbfounded to see Jin waiting for him when he makes it out of customs. Jin is carefully positioned on the other side of the barrier opposite the doors, looking elegant in a long collared wool overcoat over a crisp pale blue button down shirt and what Kame very much hopes are well-tailored trousers. Jin's holding a bouquet of flowers, and when he sees Kame emerge from the double doors, his face lights up in a bright smile.
Kame stops when he sees him, heart stuttering in his chest. He stands there for several seconds, heedless of the people behind him, a few of whom shoot him a dirty look as they're forced to walk around. When he can finally make his feet move again, he's laughing, and he quickens his footsteps, trying to maneuver through the crowd, hauling his luggage along behind him.
Jin's smile widens as they both walk along the barrier to the opening where Kame has to swim his way through the logjammed crowd until he wins free and Jin stands there looking very much like he'd like to hug Kame, his cheeks flaming.
Kame returns his long look while shaking his head, not even bothering to fight his grin as he laughs out loud.
"What are you doing here?" Kame asks when he gains some measure of composure. "And what-" He scratches his head before pointing conspicuously at the bouquet. "is that?"
Jin looks down at the flowers with an expression of mock-surprise. "Oh, this," he says as though he doesn't know how it got there, and then he glances back at Kame and winces. "Is it too much? It's too much, isn't it?"
"You're such a dork," Kame says, unable to stop smiling in delight, stepping closer. "You're such a dork! I can't believe you're here-"
Jin rubs his nose and flushes pink all over again. He says, "I thought I'd surprise you?" His voice tips up at the end with just the merest hint of uncertainty.
"I'm surprised," Kame says, shaking his head in quiet amazement. "I'm definitely surprised."
"Good surprise, I hope," Jin says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.
Kame snorts. "What do you think?" he asks, cocking his head at Jin, letting his eyes go soft.
Jin ducks his head, a new grin lifting the corners of his mouth. He looks like he wants to say something else, but after he wavers for a few seconds, Jin just steps forward and wraps his arms around Kame's shoulders. Kame's breath catches, his throat tightening as he lays his cheek against Jin's shoulder. A few seconds later, he brings his arms up around Jin's back. It comes to him, unbidden, shocking in its intensity: I'm home.
--
Neither of them says much on the drive back into DC. It's mid-afternoon on a Thursday so traffic on the Beltway and in the city is really light. Kame angles himself in the passenger's seat so he can look at Jin, studying his profile as he drives. He's only been gone for ten days but somehow it feels like he was gone longer.
Jin explains how he took a bus down from New York that morning and borrowed Sanjay's car to come to the airport. Jin's bag is in the back along with Kame's luggage. There's no question of where Jin's staying that night, and Kame looks away with a secret smile rising to his lips, a flutter of anticipation low in his gut.
Jin asks if Kame's jetlagged. Kame hesitates for a moment before he nods and says: "I've been up since about four this morning," by way of explanation.
Jin gives him a sidelong look, his smile crooked, but he doesn't look disappointed. "That's all right," he says. "You're on vacation. You should catch up on your sleep."
When they finally arrive, Kame instructs Jin on where to park Sanjay's car and they get everything unloaded and inside the front door of the house. Kame wrinkles his nose at the slightly stale odor.
"Hope you don't mind," Kame begins, going for the upstairs windows. "I'm gonna leave the heat off so I can air it out a little."
"No, that's cool," Jin says, because of course he would. "What can I do?" Kame sets him to cracking some windows and locating the air cleaner from the closet to set up and start filtering some of the dust.
Kame's nervous, his stomach doing cartwheels; he feels like he needs to keep moving.
"I haven't been back here for more than a few days since - god, since early November? Shit. No wonder it's disgusting."
"It isn't," Jin says. "It's just a little dusty."
Kame looks around, rubbing his mouth. "I'm gonna have to figure out what to do about this," he grumbles. "Maybe hire someone to stop in every now and then. Or put down drop cloths when I leave."
Jin comes up behind and sweeps Kame's hair off his neck before leaning in to kiss him behind the ear. "Stop fussing," Jin says. "Everything is totally fine."
Kame's smile is strained when Jin moves away. He takes a deep breath and goes to look for clean linens.
He's tired, but having something to do actually gives him a bit of a lift and settles his nerves: Without comment, as though he knows it would throw Kame further off kilter, Jin helps Kame put fresh sheets on the bed and replace the duvet cover. They dump all the towels and linens into the washer and let it run.
"You hungry?" Jin asks after a while. They decide on Ethiopian and walk a few blocks in the freezing early dark to a neighborhood joint Kame likes. The hole-in-the-wall restaurant is small and not especially well-lit; the chairs and tables are cheap, but the service is warm and the food is spicy and satisfying. And, importantly, Kame gets to watch Jin eat with his hands: Jin tears of pieces of the spongy Ethiopian bread called injera, scooping up curry to deposit in his mouth. It's almost Kame's favorite kind of food porn. They each swig from dark bottles of Ethiopian beer and eventually conversation about Madrid at Christmas and Kame's family fades completely as Kame gets caught up in staring at Jin's mouth, his eyes, the planes of his cheeks, every familiar and unfamiliar angle and line.
Jin asks for the check, pays with a credit card, his fingers not entirely steady as he adds the tip and signs the receipt. His gaze, when he meets Kame's eyes across the table, is heated and he's biting his lower lip.
Neither of them speak all the way back to Kame's house. Jin dogs Kame's heels on the iron landing as Kame tries to fit the keys into the locks and get inside. He's only had the one beer, but his fingers are clumsy, whether from the drink, or exhaustion, or something else, is entirely unclear.
But they do finally make it inside, and Jin plucks the keys from Kame's hands and chains the door before turning and leaning against it, his knees bent.
"I know you're tired, he begins, flipping Kame's keys over in his hands. Jin looks nervous, and he tries to smile.
Kame takes a step toward him and says "I am-" He takes another step and slots himself between Jin's knees. Kame keeps his hands in his pockets and he stands there, close but not quite touching.
"-but just in case it wasn't obvious..."
He plucks the housekeys from Jin's hand.
"...you aren't sleeping on the futon."
Jin's face cracks into a smile. "I'm not?" He says faintly.
Kame shakes his head, leaning in just a little so it turns into a nuzzle. He doesn't move further, just allowing for the barest, glancing touch, sensing Jin's tension from his stillness, his shiver.
After a quiet moment or two of sharing air, Kame reaches up to cup Jin's face, smoothing his thumbs over Jin's cheekbones. He meets Jin's eyes and pulls him down to his waiting mouth.
--
At some point Jin realizes that Kame's sagging, and not because he's weak in the knees.
"Come on," Jin says, landing a kiss on each of Kame's eyelids. "Let's put you to bed."
Without opening his eyes, the corners of Kame's mouth tilt up. "Oh, baby, you have the best ideas." He can feel Jin's answering smile against his lips.
Jin joins Kame in the shower where they stand together under the hot spray just looking their fill, fingers intertwined, until their hands disentangle to touch stretches of slick, wet skin. Kame traces his fingertips over Jin's newer tattoos, while Jin does the same, tickling around Kame's ribs and provoking a smile. Mostly, it feels to Kame like they're reminding themselves and relearning, discovering everything that's changed in ten years, everything that's stayed the same.
It's not long before Jin runs a thumb along Kame's full lower lip, pressing into the corner of mouth. Until he leans in to cover Kame's mouth with his own and Kame gives entrance to Jin's tongue, melting against Jin as he's gathered in, held close. The kiss is warm, and slow, and loving: a breath-stopping give-and-take that sets Kame's blood asimmer.
Abruptly Jin releases Kame who slumps back to the wall, nearly bumping his head. Jin's heated look almost makes Kame want to take a step back - if there was anywhere to go; he watches Jin's gaze slide down, down, as Jin brackets Kame's hips with his hands, sending a full-body shiver through Kame.
Jin sinks to his knees and smooths his fingers over the black and red snake Kame had tattooed on his right hip two years ago when they opened Sesamo in Washington. Jin lays his cheek against the snake, his hands coming up around the back to cup Kame's buttocks. Kame looks down with hunger, yes, wanting whatever Jin will offer, but also with deep affection and a sense of rightness. He buries both his hands in Jin's wet, dark hair.
Jin looks up from his knees, heedless of the water falling into his eyes, his mouth. He says, "Can I-" and Kame nods, sliding a hand down to cup the side of Jin's face. Jin leans into Kame's touch, nuzzling Kame's hand before he reaches up to shift Kame's hand to the back of Jin's head. He looks up a moment before he lowers his head, and there's a request there, permission for Kame to take this from Jin, to use him, to give himself.
Kame bites his lip and closes his eyes against the blinding expression on Jin's face. It's too much. It's too much, but it's perfect.
Later, when Kame's spent and slumped back to the tiles, trembling, waiting for his heart rate to calm down, Jin climbs to his feet with a groan and a laugh.
"Goddamn," he says, "my fucking knees."
Kame cracks one eye open at Jin and says, "Old man."
Jin grunts, takes Kame's hand to wrap around him. There's a note of challenge in his voice when he says: "Do I feel old, Kame?" He angles his hips toward Kame, bringing them closer together and his hand moves with Kame's as Kame slowly jacks him, staring straight into Jin's eyes, drinking in every tiny reaction, every shift of muscle beneath Jin's skin, the way Jin's head tips back a little and his mouth falls open.
"C'mere," Kame says before curling a hand around the back of Jin's neck and leaning up to kiss him hard. Jin's tension vibrates up through Kame's arm.
"How's this," Kame breathes into Jin's mouth, adding that little twist he remembers on the upward stroke. Jin's breath catches.
"It's - it's good. God. Kame." Jin's lips curve upward in a faint smile. "It's awesome. Don't - don't stop. I'm-"
Kame's smiling and Jin is, too, when at last he tips over, falling forward toward Kame, catching himself with a hand braced to the wall beside Kame's head, gasping Kame's name again and again.
--
The next morning Kame wakes early, still on Madrid time, Jin spooned up behind him, their legs close together. Kame disentangles himself carefully, turns to watch Jin sleeping, his dark hair tousled, the ridiculous skull-pirate chef tattoo on the outside of his left arm starkly outlined against his light brown skin. Minus a few tattoos, and the lines on Jin's face, and the few threads of silver Kame finds in Jin's dark hair only when he's really close and looking, Jin is so much the picture of their youth together that it hurts. Sometimes Kame feels like he's carrying these transparencies around with him that his brain compulsively holds up to see where the Jin he remembers matches up with the Jin in front of him right now. The lines blur where they overlap and sometimes they don't match up at all. Jin is the same, he is not the same. He's the past and the future. It's confusing and weird and happy-making all rolled up into one.
Jin is up when Kame comes back with pastries from the Argentine bakery nearby, and he has a moka of freshly-brewed hot coffee waiting. They break their fast in Kame's kitchen sitting on either side of a corner at the broad heavy wooden table Kame loves so much. They're both quiet, until Jin says: "I think you should call Yamapi."
Kame frowns, remembering Yamapi's message from the previous day. "How did you know?" he asks. Jin shrugs.
"What is it?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.
Jin says, "Maybe I should-" but then he stops. "I can go," he offers as Kame pulls out his phone and immediately sends a message to Yamapi to coordinate a video call. It takes a few minutes for Yamapi to respond and when he does, he says to go ahead so Kame transfers the video call to his laptop. Jin sits stiffly at right angles to Kame at the kitchen table, just outside the angle of the camera.
"Hey," Yamapi says and he looks tired, like he's just woken up, but in relatively good spirits. "Happy New Year."
"What?" Kame says. Jin says very quietly: "It's New Year's Eve," and Kame realizes with a start that Jin's right.
"Is Jin there?" Yamapi asks. Kame darts a glance at Jin who shrugs.
"Yeah," Kame says, suddenly uneasy. "What's going on?" He moves the screen and the camera so Jin can see and been seen.
Yamapi screws up his face and scratches his head. "Don't freak out, okay? Andrew quit on Christmas Eve. And bef-"
"What?" Kame demands. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Yamapi shakes his head, staring straight into his camera. "Because there wasn't any point in ruining the last couple days of your time with your family. What could you have done? Nothing. Meisa and I decided we'd tell you as soon as you got back.
"What the fuck do you mean," Kame sputters, "how is Andrew quitting not like, uh, I don't know, the most important thing."
"I'm telling you right now, Kame, so don't get all bent out of shape. I wasn't trying to keep it from you, just-"
"Damnit, Yamashita," Kame fumes.
"I know it's bad, but it could be worse. Koki and I have handling things for the time being." Yamapi pauses. "Look," Yamapi says. "It's probably for the best, don't you think? These last few months with Andrew were really tough, you have to admit that."
That part is true, of course. Things just kept going from bad to worse, especially losing both Beppe and Suze, and even though Andrew had reluctantly agreed to get professional help, that was only a few weeks ago. If things had continued without changing, Kame knows they would almost certainly have had to ask Andrew to leave. It's probably better this way.
"So we start a search," Kame says heavily.
"Actually-" Yamapi grimaces again, scratching his head even harder. "I already have, basically since Suze left."
Suze, who they still have not replaced.
Kame frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You had enough on your plate as it is, and we were already looking for a new chef de cuisine. I figured I'd also keep an eye out for a new exec in case we had to let Andrew go."
"Oh." Kame takes several seconds to digest that. "You should have said something."
He watches Yamapi shrug on the screen. He's wearing a threadbare yellow Pikachu t-shirt and his hair is a mess, but he's as serious as if he was in a boardroom.
"Maybe. I'm sorry you're upset, but I hoped things would work out a lot differently. You know, I really liked Andrew, before - before all this happened. And his steak tartare was - even you loved it, and you have those ridiculous standards about tartare. I'm gonna miss that. And his stuffed rabbit. And that Earl Grey panna cotta." Yamapi's expression becomes mournful.
Kame rubs his forehead. "You know," he begins, "I'm really sorry about all this."
"You're sorry." Yamapi looks puzzled. "Whatever for?"
"I just-" Kame hesitates, feeling self-conscious that Jin is sitting there listening to the entire conversation. "I feel like I haven't been around enough and I haven't been doing enough to help out."
Yamapi bursts out laughing. "You're kidding, right? Kame, come on. You're a fucking workaholic. You've been backing me up for years. So you've been doing other things lately. You're entitled. Don't want you to get bored and run off and leave me to run this ship by myself, right?" Yamapi shrugs. "Look, things happen. We'll find someone good to replace Andrew. We'll get through this."
"We need to get someone in there ASAP," Kame says, stating the obvious.
"Absolutely. Koki is working out really well and I think at this point we ought to just promote him to chef de cuisine - I mean, he's basically been doing the job anyway - we get another sous chef in there and, well - Jin, do you want to jump in here?"
Kame frowns, turning from Yamapi to where Jin's sitting at his elbow shooting worried looks in Kame's direction.
"What's going on?"
"I'd like to help out, at least until you hire a new chef," Jin says simply, meeting Kame's eyes.
"But-" Kame's frown deepens. "I thought - I thought you didn't want to run a restaurant. That's what this is." As if Jin doesn't know, but he has to say it. "We need someone to run the place."
Jin's eyes remain steady. "I know."
When Kame just stares at him, Jin sighs and continues: "Look, I've run restaurants before and I'm good at it. You need help, so I'm offering and I'm happy to do it. Obviously," he swallows. "Obviously I'm not a permanent solution and I'm not suggesting that, but both of you know how I cook, and I have an idea of what you need. I think I could fit in over there."
Kame's eyes swing back to Yamapi and he narrows his gaze. "You guys talked about this."
"Well, yes. It was Jin's idea."
Somehow Kame feels like he should be more irritated that they hashed all this out between themselves before bringing it to him, but he has to admit it makes sense for all the reasons Jin describes.
"And Meisa?" Kame asks. "What does she think?"
"Eh, you know her, she trusts us to make these decisions. You can talk to her if you want, but I can tell you right now what she told me, and that's that this is really your decision. If you have any objection - for any reason at all - then make your call. I think she's more concerned with your personal life. No offense, Jin," Yamapi says.
Jin's staring at Kame when he says "None taken," with a faint smile. "Meisa's right, of course."
"So that's basically it," Yamapi says and he glances away at that moment, looking up, off camera and says: "Yes, three sugars. I'm almost done," to an unintelligible voice. He returns his attention to the camera and says: "Where was I? We can talk more about all this when you two get back, but think about it. I'll prepare the list of candidates I've been considering and I'll send it to you. Maybe we'll get lucky and find someone we like soon so we won't even need Jin for that long."
Kame nods, getting ready to sign off, but just then a head full of disheveled brown hair pops into view, shoving Yamapi out of the way. Kame begins to smile, exchanging a look with Jin as they both watch what looks like a wrestling match.
"Are you done?" Toma's voice comes through, loud and clear, "with my boyfriend?" Toma pops up on the screen, a triumphant grin in place against Yamapi's muffled yelp.
"Boyfriend?" Kame asks, lifting an eyebrow. "So it's all official now?"
"Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend," Toma says as Yamapi comes back up and manages to put Toma in a headlock. "Yes, of course it's official. Yamapi's just being a stubborn dick."
"Congratulations," Kame laughs. "Took you long enough."
"Shut up," both Toma and Yamapi say at the same time before Yamapi quirks an eyebrow into the camera, pushing a clump brown hair out of his eyes. "I'd say the same to you, but you both are too stupid to bother."
"He's going now," Toma says, "because we're busy. Sayonara, bitches!" and the video abruptly cuts out.
--
Kame stands, nearly knocking his chair over, his grin rapidly fading as he runs both hands through his hair.
He hooks his hands around the back of his neck and looks down at Jin. "So that talk we need to have? I guess we'd better have it."
"Are you angry?" Jin asks as he pushes to a stand, resting one hand on the table.
Kame shakes his head, meeting Jin's eyes briefly. "No - no."
"Then what is it?"
"This is a lot, Jin," Kame says before he takes a deep breath. "I won't lie, you know. I still - I still-" He takes another breath. "Don't laugh, okay? You can't blame me if I have trust issues now."
Jin just looks at him and shakes his head. "I'm not laughing."
Kame chews on the inside of his mouth briefly before he drops heavily back into his chair. Slowly Jin sits as well, their knees bumping under the table. Jin leans forward, crossing his forearms on the table top, looks down.
"I know you might not want to trust me, not with the restaurant, or - or with anything else. But I'm here and I'm offering because I want to be a part of this. You guys are both my friends and I can help you. I want to help you. I promise you I'll do whatever you need me to do, work as hard as you need me to work, I'll do anything. Whatever you want. I'll clear my schedule for as long as it takes."
"But-" Kame blinks. "You probably make more right now than we can pay you. I mean, it's a good job, don't get me wrong, but-"
"You think I care about that Kame? I don't give a fuck about the money. I have money. So long as I can make my rent and eat, I'll be fine."
Kame sits back in his chair and watches Jin. "That - that's awfully generous of you," he says.
Jin's face twists in frustration as he shakes his head. "You don't get it, do you? It's not generous. I'm not offering because I'm such a big person. I'm offering because I fucking love you." Jin's hand rubs over his mouth and he goes still, perhaps only just realizing what he's said.
His eyes catch and hold Kame's. Kame heart thuds dully in his chest and he feels like all the air's been sucked from the room.
"Come on, man," Jin says with a wobbly smile. His voice cracks: "Don't look so surprised."
Kame is frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes away from Jin.
"Look, it's pretty simple. I didn't leave because I stopped loving you - and if you ever thought that, well, fuck." Two spots of high color stain Jin's cheeks. "That would be my fault, then, for being an asshole. I had to go. But I had to come back. It took me a long time, and maybe I had to go to the other side of the world to figure it out, but - but I did. I'm here now because you're here, and-"
Jin passes a hand over his eyes for a second before he reaches out, fumbles for Kame's fingers, clings.
There's no disguising the hitch when Jin speaks again: "If you'll have me. This is where I want to be."
Kame licks his lips, his mouth bone dry.
"So-" He takes a breath. "I - I hoped." He swallows, tries to take another breath, but there isn't enough oxygen in all the world. "I tried not to," he says, "but-"
"You did?" Jin's fingers twist to find purchase, he pulls Kame to him, and Kame slips out of his chair and, dazed, lets himself be manhandled until he's straddling Jin's lap, the chair protesting beneath them.
"Will it hold?" Jin asks, nearly laughing as he looks down in alarm.
"I don't fucking care," Kame says, and now they're both laughing, or crying, Kame's face hidden in the crook of Jin's neck, Jin's arms wrapped around him so tightly he can barely breathe.
::
::
epilogue
Kame and Yamapi close Zenzero for three days in mid-July so Haruka's kitchen staff can attend her wedding. Early on a steamy Friday morning, Kame drives upstate with Jin in a rented convertible to a hotel five hours north of the city, a sprawling estate with rolling green lawns, a small lake, and splendid views of rural countryside in every direction.
Six and a half months on, and it seems natural to glance over into the passenger seat and catch Jin with his head tipped back on the head-rest, sunlight glinting off mirrored lenses and wind tousling his hair as he strums an air guitar while singing along to the Velvet Underground on the stereo.
"Oh, sweet nuthin,' she ain't got nothin' at all..."
It feels good to be on the road. It feels good to be getting away, to be driving out of the humid, smelly, oppressive hulking city. Most importantly, Haruka's wedding is a welcome respite from the inside-out, upside-down insanity they've both been living through for the last several months.
For a while, it really seemed like everything was going to hell in a handbasket - the search and never-ending tryouts for a new executive chef, a sous chef and other replacement cooks dragged on weeks and months longer than they'd hoped; the chaos and uncertainty generated destructive attention from the press. The internet seemed simultaneously gleeful and disappointed to proclaim the downfall of their once steady, sure enterprise. The haters from the early days had never really gone away so Kayakuya's current woes allowed them to repeat ad nauseum how Kame and Yamapi were just a pair of overhyped pretentious chefs who'd drunk their own Kool-Aid and present circumstances were proving them to be the imposters their detractors had always known them to be. If Kame and Yamapi were less plugged into social media then perhaps they could have insulated themselves from the backlash but there was no way to avoid it - not and still maintain credibility in the face of their critics.
For months, Kame and Yamapi worked tirelessly with Jin and Koki Tanaka in the kitchen at Sesamo, scrounging up temporary cooks, trying to train new ones, desperate to turn the tide and repair the damage done during Andrew's lethal last months when every good cook had fled, like rats on a sinking ship, for less volatile employment.
In May, Yamapi convinced Susanna to come back, this time as executive chef.
It's taken them all this time - and no small damage to the company's reputation and bottom line - to regain the confidence of their one-time regulars, and to rebuild the Sesamo kitchen staff into something they can feel good about again.
They're not out of the woods yet, but things have been looking up. Jin resurrected Inboccalupo in May to great fanfare, and is once again coping with too many private bookings; he's rebuilding the professional momentum he lost when he put his work on hold to help Kayakuya. A fair number of good blog reviews of Sesamo have popped up in recent weeks, so clearly some eaters are taking a chance on them again; their weekend bookings are back up even if the rest of the week is still somewhat slow. Kame is praying the growing blog buzz will get them a professional review sometime soon to drive more diners back into the restaurant.
"I have an employee," Jin says, apropos of nothing. Kame snaps out of his reverie to glance at Jin.
"What?"
"I officially hired Yamada a couple days ago. I didn't tell you?"
Kame shakes his head. There's been so much going on between the restaurants and the wedding that it's not surprising Jin's news hasn't surfaced yet.
"Good for you," Kame says. "You've really needed some reliable full-time support."
"God, yes," Jin groans. "I'm so tired of trying to scare up a good sous chef when I need one."
"He's a good kid," Kame says.
"Yeah, and by the way, have I told you how crazy it is that you call Yamada a kid?"
Kame bristles defensively. "What's wrong with it?"
"Kame, you can't be serious. You talk like an old man. Yamada is twenty-nine. He's so not a kid."
"He looks twelve! I can't help it." Kame glances at Jin only to see Jin shifting to face him.
"You call Rowan a kid, Kame, and he's exactly the same age as Yamada. Rowan. James Beard Award winner. Chef-owner of two successful establishments, three if you count Outlandish. You call Rowan fucking Petersen a kid." Jin's working the sarcastic deadpan to great effect.
Kame quirks a grin. "Well, when you put it like that."
Jin shakes his head. "I'm just saying. You're not an old man. No need to talk like one."
"Can you imagine what they said about us?" They were even younger than Rowan and Yamada, then.
"Don't need to. I remember what they said about us. And we really were kids. We were infants."
"Yeah." Kame props his left elbow on the door and tilts his head into the rush of the car's forward motion. "Not kids anymore."
"Hey," Jin says, reaching out to rest his hand on the back of Kame's neck. "Don't get melancholy on me. We're older and we're wiser."
Kame smiles. "We're certainly older."
"Well," Jin says in a matter-of-fact tone, "you and I would not be in this car right now if we weren't wiser."
Kame can't argue with that.
--
The next morning, they stand in the large, gleaming hotel kitchen with Yamapi, Haruka, and Runa's Puerto Rican grandmother, watching as Runa and two of her pastry chef friends circle the assembled but undecorated layers of the wedding cake Runa had insisted - against all advice - on making herself.
Her hair is wrapped in turquoise cloth the color of Caribbean water and her white tank top and drawstring trousers hang off her tiny, vanishing frame. Both Runa and Haruka have lost weight during this last stretch of weeks as the stress of working their demanding jobs and coordinating all the never-ending details for their wedding weekend have taken their toll.
"What was I thinking?" Runa mutters. I have no idea, Yamapi mouths silently behind her back.
Kame knows the cake will be magnificent when it's finished: it's all moist dark chocolate layers split and filled with alternating peppermint, mocha and chocolate buttercreams. The only trick is figuring out how to place the custom-made decorated edible paper Runa had designed with elaborate printed patterns on each of the layers so the cake will look like a towering pile of beautifully-wrapped gifts.
"I thought this would be so easy," she moans, while her grandmother looks on with a sympathetic frown and Haruka alternates between biting her knuckles and chewing her lower lip. Yamapi, staring in horrified fascination because he does not do dessert, shakes his head. Jin, on the other hand, studies the three pastry chefs intently; unlike many chefs, Jin does do dessert.
In the end it takes an hour and a half to pipe all the edible adhesive gel, to delicately place all the carefully-measured-and-sliced sheets of edible paper, to squeeze out all the shells and rosettes of chocolate buttercream. At long last Runa straightens.
Everyone takes a deep breath and sighs as she lays down the pastry bag of buttercream. She steps back from her spectacular creation and looks over her shoulder at Haruka, sweat shining on her face, her eyes glowing with pride and triumph. When Haruka darts over to wrap Runa in a giant hug, Kame and the others applaud.
--
The late afternoon wedding is, unsurprisingly, lovely. The brides - Haruka in a red frock and Runa in white - are gorgeous as they stand beneath a rose-hung arbor and exchange their vows; their families are ecstatic, and the day, while hot, could not be more perfect: the blue sky is dotted by a few puffy white clouds, the grass is a lush velvet carpet, and the breeze coming off the small lake is refreshing.
It's easy to be sentimental while watching his dear friend and colleague marry the woman she loves. Kame would have to be a stone to remain untouched by the blaze of affection and commitment on display. Kame is not a stone. Instead, he's happy - happy in every way a person can be when doubt and insecurity have fled and calm surety is left behind.
He can feel Jin's eyes on him, even obscured behind sunglasses; he feels Jin's gaze like a physical caress. Turning, Kame's throat tightens as he takes in the reddish glow of the sun on Jin's dark hair, of it glinting off Jin's mirrored lenses, warming the light brown skin of Jin's face. He lingers on the curve of Jin's smile.
There is no past, there is no future, there is only sunlight on Jin's face on a beautiful summer day.
And love, there is so much love.
--
It's late, past midnight, and the revelry is dying down.
Yamapi reaches high in a long stretch on the other side of the table without bothering to hide his yawn. When he lowers his arms, one hand catches on Toma's collar, heedless of Toma turned away, speaking with Kyoko-san on his other side. Kame, more than half-drunk, toys with the stem of a glass of white wine, his eyes half-lidded as he watches Jin dancing with Sanjay on the little dance floor. The slowly spinning mirrorball suspended from the apex of the white tent casts shifting drops of light over the few remaining dancers. Strings of white lights twinkle in the dark of the summer night and humidity clings to Kame's skin.
The wedding feast has been eaten, the exquisite cake has been cut and devoured, and the brides have danced their first, second and twentieth dances, shared many kisses to the tinkling of silverware on crystal, made heartfelt speeches to their assembled loved ones, and many, many toasts have been drunk.
Now only a few remain.
When Jin and Sanjay saunter back, loose-limbed and laughing, Kame smiles, tracking Jin's approach until they each drop into seats on either side of him. Jin takes up Kame's hand and brushes his lips across Kame's knuckles.
"If I ask for a last dance," Jin asks, slightly out of breath, "will you dance with me?" He's disheveled, his collar open, the knot of his tie loose, hanging low, and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. His face is moist with sweat, strands of hair sticking to the sides of his face.
Kame tilts his head, pondering. "If I do, do I get a prize?" he asks, leaning in close to catch Jin's lips with his own.
"Okay, knock it off, you two," Yamapi says in a jovial tone, throwing a balled-up napkin at Jin's forehead from across the table. It falls to the floor between Jin and Kame's seats. "Get a room."
Jin mock-glares at him. "What is wrong with you, Pi? It's not like you aren't getting laid tonight."
"That's right," Toma says, turning back to them now that Kyoko-san has left. "What's wrong with you? It's not like you won't-" He scratches his head. "Oh, wait." He turns an evil grin on Yamapi who springs up from his chair with alacrity.
"No, no, no," Yamapi says. "Withholding sex is not allowed. I'm just gonna - I'm just gonna go over there and dance with Nina." Toma's wicked cackle follows him as he darts away.
Jin looks back at Kame and with a grin, pulls him up, leads back out to the dance floor where Haruka and Runa are still twined together like the stripes of a candy cane. Haruka lifts her head off Runa's shoulder as they approach and her face lights up.
"Is it time?" she asks, addressing Jin. Kame quickly looks at Jin and says, curious, "What? Is it what time?"
Jin starts to laugh as Haruka and Runa walk out to the edges of the dance floor and beckon everyone who's still left to join them with their champagne flutes. Kame looks around and see Susanna and her husband, Sanjay who's now holding baby Kyoko against his shoulder, Meisa and René, Toma, Nina holding Yamapi's arm, a few others. Haruka has come up with a couple bottles of champagne from somewhere and she and Runa split up to make sure everyone has something in their glass. Haruka runs over on bare feet and pushes empty flutes into Kame and Jin's hands, pours for them, too.
"What's going on?" Kame asks.
"Last toast," Haruka says. "Last song. Time for us to turn into pumpkins."
Kame watches as Runa helps Haruka climb onto a chair to make one final toast, her glass raised high, and everyone follows suit, cheering Haruka and Runa until Haruka surprises Kame by raising both her arms and crying out: "Hit it."
When the music begins, Kame's eyes widen in amazement, and he nearly doubles over with giddy laughter as he meets Jin's dancing eyes. He looks around and sees most of their friends on the dance floor with them, with Haruka and Runa, and after that twangy little guitar intro, when Keith Richards begins singing "their" song, the song Jin sang for him on Kame's eighteenth birthday, everyone else sings along, too. Haruka and Runa twirl their way close to Kame and Jin and Runa says: "Haruka wanted this for our first dance. I told her it should be our last. It's kinda perfect, don't you think?"
Listening to the chorus of voices around them, Kame's inclined to agree. Every wedding should include rousing-chorus crowd-participation love songs.
Hey babe, you got my soul
You got the silver, you got the gold
A flash of love has made me blind
I don't care, no, that's no big surprise
Kame reaches up to curl an arm around Jin's neck, careful not to tip out the last few swallows of champagne. Jin tugs him in close and bends his head down to Kame's ear.
"I swear, I didn't put them up to it," Jin says.
"You're a fucking liar," Kame laughs.
"I really, really didn't," Jin insists. "But you go ahead and keep thinking that if it makes me look good." Jin lays his cheek against Kame's and tightens his arm around Kame's shoulders.
"You don't need to look good," Kame grins.
"Flatterer."
Kame reaches up with a free hand, strokes the hair back from Jin's forehead, holds Jin's warm, brown gaze. "Doesn't mean it isn't true."
Jin loosens his arms and grabs Kame's free hand, gently pulling Kame off the dance floor, away from the others. He backs Kame up to a tent pole and Kame leans up for a kiss.
It's so natural now, it's like breathing.
When they break apart, it's with wide, tipsy grins. Kame says: "So how about that room?" He's already imagining a quick shower and stretching out with Jin, naked on their cool, soft sheets.
Jin laughs. "Yeah," he says, looking back at their friends. The music is gone, Haruka and Runa are saying goodbye to the last stragglers.
Haruka catches Kame's eye. She and Runa wave while he kisses his hand to them; his face aches from smiling. With a parting wave, and Jin warm at his side, Kame is already turning away.
"Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying,
eating of the last sweet bite."
Joy Harjo
from "Perhaps The World Ends Here" (1994)
end.
::
::
Kame's flying in and out of Washington so he takes the train down to DC four days before Christmas, briefly drops in on Sesamo to touch base with Sanjay and the managers before going on vacation, and boards a flight to Madrid. He tells himself it's fine. He'll get back just before New Year's and he'll have a few days in DC before he needs to head back to New York and Jin. Plenty of time to process.
The time away will be good for him, Kame tells himself. He spends so little time with his family that he's looking forward to seeing his nieces and nephews and catching up with his brothers and their wives. When he arrives he still has to do all his Christmas shopping, as there had been virtually no time before he left. He tries to hunt around in search of a few things to bring back with him.
While he watches the kids play, he takes his brother's gentle ribbing at all the Americanisms in his English and how bad his Japanese has become.
"But it was never good to begin with," Kame protests. Their parents were so often away when he was growing up - Kame had spent all his time with his Spanish friends and the housekeeper and their cook from Barcelona who encouraged his earliest interest in cooking. Even now, when he has more Japanese friends than he ever had growing up, they nearly always speak in English. It just reminds Kame how little he belongs anywhere anymore - if he ever did. He's always been trapped between worlds, in some kind of transit, a foot in different places.
Of course the conversation only makes Kame think of Jin and all his years wandering around Asia - of Jin having to get by with his similarly-bad Japanese and trying to pick up enough of the local languages to learn something from his travels. Discounting his own experience traveling and working his way from Madrid to Milan, which Kame doesn't really think of as difficult considering he was already fluent in Spanish and English and he had enough French - getting by in Europe and learning Italian wasn't remotely in the same neighborhood as Jin going to a culinary school in Chengdu. He wonders if he ever would have had the gumption to do something like that.
He can't feel bad about his life choices, however - and he's no longer angry about Jin's. He and Jin took different paths to arrive where they each are today, and they've both achieved successes that have made them happy. And it turns out that maybe in the end they wanted different things. Kame thinks they both had to grow up, to grow separately, for them to realize that their professional lives didn't have to be chained together. Kame spent so long being angry about something that now seems like the most normal and reasonable thing in the world. He wonders why it took Jin coming back for him to make his peace with it.
But that's just it - Jin came back. For reasons that are still unclear, no matter what explanations Jin's advanced, and that uncertainty is partly why Kame feels so unsettled. Because it wasn't just their professional lives that diverged when Jin left - there was a time, in another life, when Kame couldn't imagine his life without Jin in it.
When Kame's being perfectly honest with himself, he knows his anger at Jin came as much from that personal loss as from anything else. He'd lost his business partner, yes, but he'd also lost his touchstone, the one person in the world who infuriated him and grounded him, and simultaneously made him deliriously happy. The sunny, stormy affection they'd shared almost from that first day, banging their skulls together on that soccer pitch in Madrid - it defined long years of Kame's life. Of who he is. When he lets himself think about, it's still astonishing to him that they were together longer than they've been apart.
In a million years, Kame never imagined any of that could be resurrected. Not just resurrected, but transformed. They're different people now and somehow Kame still wants to talk to Jin at the end of the day.
He wants - so much, and more.
--
There's a message from Yamapi when Kame arrives at Dulles airport, just asking if he doesn't mind calling in the following day to talk about something in advance of his return to New York. Kame furrows his brow at the vague language, but he sends his agreement. It's not like he has anything specific going on for the next few days aside from trying to get his head in order and try to rest up as much as possible before diving back into the fray. Meisa had already admonished him about making the most of his first vacation in years.
Jin mostly left him alone while he was in Madrid, sending only a few messages, never calling, as though he wanted to give Kame all the space in the world.
Truth is, Kame misses him. He's going to do his best to enjoy his last days of freedom, but he's already thinking ahead to being back. He's wondering why he didn't ask Jin to come down.
--
Kame is, therefore, dumbfounded to see Jin waiting for him when he makes it out of customs. Jin is carefully positioned on the other side of the barrier opposite the doors, looking elegant in a long collared wool overcoat over a crisp pale blue button down shirt and what Kame very much hopes are well-tailored trousers. Jin's holding a bouquet of flowers, and when he sees Kame emerge from the double doors, his face lights up in a bright smile.
Kame stops when he sees him, heart stuttering in his chest. He stands there for several seconds, heedless of the people behind him, a few of whom shoot him a dirty look as they're forced to walk around. When he can finally make his feet move again, he's laughing, and he quickens his footsteps, trying to maneuver through the crowd, hauling his luggage along behind him.
Jin's smile widens as they both walk along the barrier to the opening where Kame has to swim his way through the logjammed crowd until he wins free and Jin stands there looking very much like he'd like to hug Kame, his cheeks flaming.
Kame returns his long look while shaking his head, not even bothering to fight his grin as he laughs out loud.
"What are you doing here?" Kame asks when he gains some measure of composure. "And what-" He scratches his head before pointing conspicuously at the bouquet. "is that?"
Jin looks down at the flowers with an expression of mock-surprise. "Oh, this," he says as though he doesn't know how it got there, and then he glances back at Kame and winces. "Is it too much? It's too much, isn't it?"
"You're such a dork," Kame says, unable to stop smiling in delight, stepping closer. "You're such a dork! I can't believe you're here-"
Jin rubs his nose and flushes pink all over again. He says, "I thought I'd surprise you?" His voice tips up at the end with just the merest hint of uncertainty.
"I'm surprised," Kame says, shaking his head in quiet amazement. "I'm definitely surprised."
"Good surprise, I hope," Jin says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.
Kame snorts. "What do you think?" he asks, cocking his head at Jin, letting his eyes go soft.
Jin ducks his head, a new grin lifting the corners of his mouth. He looks like he wants to say something else, but after he wavers for a few seconds, Jin just steps forward and wraps his arms around Kame's shoulders. Kame's breath catches, his throat tightening as he lays his cheek against Jin's shoulder. A few seconds later, he brings his arms up around Jin's back. It comes to him, unbidden, shocking in its intensity: I'm home.
--
Neither of them says much on the drive back into DC. It's mid-afternoon on a Thursday so traffic on the Beltway and in the city is really light. Kame angles himself in the passenger's seat so he can look at Jin, studying his profile as he drives. He's only been gone for ten days but somehow it feels like he was gone longer.
Jin explains how he took a bus down from New York that morning and borrowed Sanjay's car to come to the airport. Jin's bag is in the back along with Kame's luggage. There's no question of where Jin's staying that night, and Kame looks away with a secret smile rising to his lips, a flutter of anticipation low in his gut.
Jin asks if Kame's jetlagged. Kame hesitates for a moment before he nods and says: "I've been up since about four this morning," by way of explanation.
Jin gives him a sidelong look, his smile crooked, but he doesn't look disappointed. "That's all right," he says. "You're on vacation. You should catch up on your sleep."
When they finally arrive, Kame instructs Jin on where to park Sanjay's car and they get everything unloaded and inside the front door of the house. Kame wrinkles his nose at the slightly stale odor.
"Hope you don't mind," Kame begins, going for the upstairs windows. "I'm gonna leave the heat off so I can air it out a little."
"No, that's cool," Jin says, because of course he would. "What can I do?" Kame sets him to cracking some windows and locating the air cleaner from the closet to set up and start filtering some of the dust.
Kame's nervous, his stomach doing cartwheels; he feels like he needs to keep moving.
"I haven't been back here for more than a few days since - god, since early November? Shit. No wonder it's disgusting."
"It isn't," Jin says. "It's just a little dusty."
Kame looks around, rubbing his mouth. "I'm gonna have to figure out what to do about this," he grumbles. "Maybe hire someone to stop in every now and then. Or put down drop cloths when I leave."
Jin comes up behind and sweeps Kame's hair off his neck before leaning in to kiss him behind the ear. "Stop fussing," Jin says. "Everything is totally fine."
Kame's smile is strained when Jin moves away. He takes a deep breath and goes to look for clean linens.
He's tired, but having something to do actually gives him a bit of a lift and settles his nerves: Without comment, as though he knows it would throw Kame further off kilter, Jin helps Kame put fresh sheets on the bed and replace the duvet cover. They dump all the towels and linens into the washer and let it run.
"You hungry?" Jin asks after a while. They decide on Ethiopian and walk a few blocks in the freezing early dark to a neighborhood joint Kame likes. The hole-in-the-wall restaurant is small and not especially well-lit; the chairs and tables are cheap, but the service is warm and the food is spicy and satisfying. And, importantly, Kame gets to watch Jin eat with his hands: Jin tears of pieces of the spongy Ethiopian bread called injera, scooping up curry to deposit in his mouth. It's almost Kame's favorite kind of food porn. They each swig from dark bottles of Ethiopian beer and eventually conversation about Madrid at Christmas and Kame's family fades completely as Kame gets caught up in staring at Jin's mouth, his eyes, the planes of his cheeks, every familiar and unfamiliar angle and line.
Jin asks for the check, pays with a credit card, his fingers not entirely steady as he adds the tip and signs the receipt. His gaze, when he meets Kame's eyes across the table, is heated and he's biting his lower lip.
Neither of them speak all the way back to Kame's house. Jin dogs Kame's heels on the iron landing as Kame tries to fit the keys into the locks and get inside. He's only had the one beer, but his fingers are clumsy, whether from the drink, or exhaustion, or something else, is entirely unclear.
But they do finally make it inside, and Jin plucks the keys from Kame's hands and chains the door before turning and leaning against it, his knees bent.
"I know you're tired, he begins, flipping Kame's keys over in his hands. Jin looks nervous, and he tries to smile.
Kame takes a step toward him and says "I am-" He takes another step and slots himself between Jin's knees. Kame keeps his hands in his pockets and he stands there, close but not quite touching.
"-but just in case it wasn't obvious..."
He plucks the housekeys from Jin's hand.
"...you aren't sleeping on the futon."
Jin's face cracks into a smile. "I'm not?" He says faintly.
Kame shakes his head, leaning in just a little so it turns into a nuzzle. He doesn't move further, just allowing for the barest, glancing touch, sensing Jin's tension from his stillness, his shiver.
After a quiet moment or two of sharing air, Kame reaches up to cup Jin's face, smoothing his thumbs over Jin's cheekbones. He meets Jin's eyes and pulls him down to his waiting mouth.
--
At some point Jin realizes that Kame's sagging, and not because he's weak in the knees.
"Come on," Jin says, landing a kiss on each of Kame's eyelids. "Let's put you to bed."
Without opening his eyes, the corners of Kame's mouth tilt up. "Oh, baby, you have the best ideas." He can feel Jin's answering smile against his lips.
Jin joins Kame in the shower where they stand together under the hot spray just looking their fill, fingers intertwined, until their hands disentangle to touch stretches of slick, wet skin. Kame traces his fingertips over Jin's newer tattoos, while Jin does the same, tickling around Kame's ribs and provoking a smile. Mostly, it feels to Kame like they're reminding themselves and relearning, discovering everything that's changed in ten years, everything that's stayed the same.
It's not long before Jin runs a thumb along Kame's full lower lip, pressing into the corner of mouth. Until he leans in to cover Kame's mouth with his own and Kame gives entrance to Jin's tongue, melting against Jin as he's gathered in, held close. The kiss is warm, and slow, and loving: a breath-stopping give-and-take that sets Kame's blood asimmer.
Abruptly Jin releases Kame who slumps back to the wall, nearly bumping his head. Jin's heated look almost makes Kame want to take a step back - if there was anywhere to go; he watches Jin's gaze slide down, down, as Jin brackets Kame's hips with his hands, sending a full-body shiver through Kame.
Jin sinks to his knees and smooths his fingers over the black and red snake Kame had tattooed on his right hip two years ago when they opened Sesamo in Washington. Jin lays his cheek against the snake, his hands coming up around the back to cup Kame's buttocks. Kame looks down with hunger, yes, wanting whatever Jin will offer, but also with deep affection and a sense of rightness. He buries both his hands in Jin's wet, dark hair.
Jin looks up from his knees, heedless of the water falling into his eyes, his mouth. He says, "Can I-" and Kame nods, sliding a hand down to cup the side of Jin's face. Jin leans into Kame's touch, nuzzling Kame's hand before he reaches up to shift Kame's hand to the back of Jin's head. He looks up a moment before he lowers his head, and there's a request there, permission for Kame to take this from Jin, to use him, to give himself.
Kame bites his lip and closes his eyes against the blinding expression on Jin's face. It's too much. It's too much, but it's perfect.
Later, when Kame's spent and slumped back to the tiles, trembling, waiting for his heart rate to calm down, Jin climbs to his feet with a groan and a laugh.
"Goddamn," he says, "my fucking knees."
Kame cracks one eye open at Jin and says, "Old man."
Jin grunts, takes Kame's hand to wrap around him. There's a note of challenge in his voice when he says: "Do I feel old, Kame?" He angles his hips toward Kame, bringing them closer together and his hand moves with Kame's as Kame slowly jacks him, staring straight into Jin's eyes, drinking in every tiny reaction, every shift of muscle beneath Jin's skin, the way Jin's head tips back a little and his mouth falls open.
"C'mere," Kame says before curling a hand around the back of Jin's neck and leaning up to kiss him hard. Jin's tension vibrates up through Kame's arm.
"How's this," Kame breathes into Jin's mouth, adding that little twist he remembers on the upward stroke. Jin's breath catches.
"It's - it's good. God. Kame." Jin's lips curve upward in a faint smile. "It's awesome. Don't - don't stop. I'm-"
Kame's smiling and Jin is, too, when at last he tips over, falling forward toward Kame, catching himself with a hand braced to the wall beside Kame's head, gasping Kame's name again and again.
--
The next morning Kame wakes early, still on Madrid time, Jin spooned up behind him, their legs close together. Kame disentangles himself carefully, turns to watch Jin sleeping, his dark hair tousled, the ridiculous skull-pirate chef tattoo on the outside of his left arm starkly outlined against his light brown skin. Minus a few tattoos, and the lines on Jin's face, and the few threads of silver Kame finds in Jin's dark hair only when he's really close and looking, Jin is so much the picture of their youth together that it hurts. Sometimes Kame feels like he's carrying these transparencies around with him that his brain compulsively holds up to see where the Jin he remembers matches up with the Jin in front of him right now. The lines blur where they overlap and sometimes they don't match up at all. Jin is the same, he is not the same. He's the past and the future. It's confusing and weird and happy-making all rolled up into one.
Jin is up when Kame comes back with pastries from the Argentine bakery nearby, and he has a moka of freshly-brewed hot coffee waiting. They break their fast in Kame's kitchen sitting on either side of a corner at the broad heavy wooden table Kame loves so much. They're both quiet, until Jin says: "I think you should call Yamapi."
Kame frowns, remembering Yamapi's message from the previous day. "How did you know?" he asks. Jin shrugs.
"What is it?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.
Jin says, "Maybe I should-" but then he stops. "I can go," he offers as Kame pulls out his phone and immediately sends a message to Yamapi to coordinate a video call. It takes a few minutes for Yamapi to respond and when he does, he says to go ahead so Kame transfers the video call to his laptop. Jin sits stiffly at right angles to Kame at the kitchen table, just outside the angle of the camera.
"Hey," Yamapi says and he looks tired, like he's just woken up, but in relatively good spirits. "Happy New Year."
"What?" Kame says. Jin says very quietly: "It's New Year's Eve," and Kame realizes with a start that Jin's right.
"Is Jin there?" Yamapi asks. Kame darts a glance at Jin who shrugs.
"Yeah," Kame says, suddenly uneasy. "What's going on?" He moves the screen and the camera so Jin can see and been seen.
Yamapi screws up his face and scratches his head. "Don't freak out, okay? Andrew quit on Christmas Eve. And bef-"
"What?" Kame demands. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Yamapi shakes his head, staring straight into his camera. "Because there wasn't any point in ruining the last couple days of your time with your family. What could you have done? Nothing. Meisa and I decided we'd tell you as soon as you got back.
"What the fuck do you mean," Kame sputters, "how is Andrew quitting not like, uh, I don't know, the most important thing."
"I'm telling you right now, Kame, so don't get all bent out of shape. I wasn't trying to keep it from you, just-"
"Damnit, Yamashita," Kame fumes.
"I know it's bad, but it could be worse. Koki and I have handling things for the time being." Yamapi pauses. "Look," Yamapi says. "It's probably for the best, don't you think? These last few months with Andrew were really tough, you have to admit that."
That part is true, of course. Things just kept going from bad to worse, especially losing both Beppe and Suze, and even though Andrew had reluctantly agreed to get professional help, that was only a few weeks ago. If things had continued without changing, Kame knows they would almost certainly have had to ask Andrew to leave. It's probably better this way.
"So we start a search," Kame says heavily.
"Actually-" Yamapi grimaces again, scratching his head even harder. "I already have, basically since Suze left."
Suze, who they still have not replaced.
Kame frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You had enough on your plate as it is, and we were already looking for a new chef de cuisine. I figured I'd also keep an eye out for a new exec in case we had to let Andrew go."
"Oh." Kame takes several seconds to digest that. "You should have said something."
He watches Yamapi shrug on the screen. He's wearing a threadbare yellow Pikachu t-shirt and his hair is a mess, but he's as serious as if he was in a boardroom.
"Maybe. I'm sorry you're upset, but I hoped things would work out a lot differently. You know, I really liked Andrew, before - before all this happened. And his steak tartare was - even you loved it, and you have those ridiculous standards about tartare. I'm gonna miss that. And his stuffed rabbit. And that Earl Grey panna cotta." Yamapi's expression becomes mournful.
Kame rubs his forehead. "You know," he begins, "I'm really sorry about all this."
"You're sorry." Yamapi looks puzzled. "Whatever for?"
"I just-" Kame hesitates, feeling self-conscious that Jin is sitting there listening to the entire conversation. "I feel like I haven't been around enough and I haven't been doing enough to help out."
Yamapi bursts out laughing. "You're kidding, right? Kame, come on. You're a fucking workaholic. You've been backing me up for years. So you've been doing other things lately. You're entitled. Don't want you to get bored and run off and leave me to run this ship by myself, right?" Yamapi shrugs. "Look, things happen. We'll find someone good to replace Andrew. We'll get through this."
"We need to get someone in there ASAP," Kame says, stating the obvious.
"Absolutely. Koki is working out really well and I think at this point we ought to just promote him to chef de cuisine - I mean, he's basically been doing the job anyway - we get another sous chef in there and, well - Jin, do you want to jump in here?"
Kame frowns, turning from Yamapi to where Jin's sitting at his elbow shooting worried looks in Kame's direction.
"What's going on?"
"I'd like to help out, at least until you hire a new chef," Jin says simply, meeting Kame's eyes.
"But-" Kame's frown deepens. "I thought - I thought you didn't want to run a restaurant. That's what this is." As if Jin doesn't know, but he has to say it. "We need someone to run the place."
Jin's eyes remain steady. "I know."
When Kame just stares at him, Jin sighs and continues: "Look, I've run restaurants before and I'm good at it. You need help, so I'm offering and I'm happy to do it. Obviously," he swallows. "Obviously I'm not a permanent solution and I'm not suggesting that, but both of you know how I cook, and I have an idea of what you need. I think I could fit in over there."
Kame's eyes swing back to Yamapi and he narrows his gaze. "You guys talked about this."
"Well, yes. It was Jin's idea."
Somehow Kame feels like he should be more irritated that they hashed all this out between themselves before bringing it to him, but he has to admit it makes sense for all the reasons Jin describes.
"And Meisa?" Kame asks. "What does she think?"
"Eh, you know her, she trusts us to make these decisions. You can talk to her if you want, but I can tell you right now what she told me, and that's that this is really your decision. If you have any objection - for any reason at all - then make your call. I think she's more concerned with your personal life. No offense, Jin," Yamapi says.
Jin's staring at Kame when he says "None taken," with a faint smile. "Meisa's right, of course."
"So that's basically it," Yamapi says and he glances away at that moment, looking up, off camera and says: "Yes, three sugars. I'm almost done," to an unintelligible voice. He returns his attention to the camera and says: "Where was I? We can talk more about all this when you two get back, but think about it. I'll prepare the list of candidates I've been considering and I'll send it to you. Maybe we'll get lucky and find someone we like soon so we won't even need Jin for that long."
Kame nods, getting ready to sign off, but just then a head full of disheveled brown hair pops into view, shoving Yamapi out of the way. Kame begins to smile, exchanging a look with Jin as they both watch what looks like a wrestling match.
"Are you done?" Toma's voice comes through, loud and clear, "with my boyfriend?" Toma pops up on the screen, a triumphant grin in place against Yamapi's muffled yelp.
"Boyfriend?" Kame asks, lifting an eyebrow. "So it's all official now?"
"Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend," Toma says as Yamapi comes back up and manages to put Toma in a headlock. "Yes, of course it's official. Yamapi's just being a stubborn dick."
"Congratulations," Kame laughs. "Took you long enough."
"Shut up," both Toma and Yamapi say at the same time before Yamapi quirks an eyebrow into the camera, pushing a clump brown hair out of his eyes. "I'd say the same to you, but you both are too stupid to bother."
"He's going now," Toma says, "because we're busy. Sayonara, bitches!" and the video abruptly cuts out.
--
Kame stands, nearly knocking his chair over, his grin rapidly fading as he runs both hands through his hair.
He hooks his hands around the back of his neck and looks down at Jin. "So that talk we need to have? I guess we'd better have it."
"Are you angry?" Jin asks as he pushes to a stand, resting one hand on the table.
Kame shakes his head, meeting Jin's eyes briefly. "No - no."
"Then what is it?"
"This is a lot, Jin," Kame says before he takes a deep breath. "I won't lie, you know. I still - I still-" He takes another breath. "Don't laugh, okay? You can't blame me if I have trust issues now."
Jin just looks at him and shakes his head. "I'm not laughing."
Kame chews on the inside of his mouth briefly before he drops heavily back into his chair. Slowly Jin sits as well, their knees bumping under the table. Jin leans forward, crossing his forearms on the table top, looks down.
"I know you might not want to trust me, not with the restaurant, or - or with anything else. But I'm here and I'm offering because I want to be a part of this. You guys are both my friends and I can help you. I want to help you. I promise you I'll do whatever you need me to do, work as hard as you need me to work, I'll do anything. Whatever you want. I'll clear my schedule for as long as it takes."
"But-" Kame blinks. "You probably make more right now than we can pay you. I mean, it's a good job, don't get me wrong, but-"
"You think I care about that Kame? I don't give a fuck about the money. I have money. So long as I can make my rent and eat, I'll be fine."
Kame sits back in his chair and watches Jin. "That - that's awfully generous of you," he says.
Jin's face twists in frustration as he shakes his head. "You don't get it, do you? It's not generous. I'm not offering because I'm such a big person. I'm offering because I fucking love you." Jin's hand rubs over his mouth and he goes still, perhaps only just realizing what he's said.
His eyes catch and hold Kame's. Kame heart thuds dully in his chest and he feels like all the air's been sucked from the room.
"Come on, man," Jin says with a wobbly smile. His voice cracks: "Don't look so surprised."
Kame is frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes away from Jin.
"Look, it's pretty simple. I didn't leave because I stopped loving you - and if you ever thought that, well, fuck." Two spots of high color stain Jin's cheeks. "That would be my fault, then, for being an asshole. I had to go. But I had to come back. It took me a long time, and maybe I had to go to the other side of the world to figure it out, but - but I did. I'm here now because you're here, and-"
Jin passes a hand over his eyes for a second before he reaches out, fumbles for Kame's fingers, clings.
There's no disguising the hitch when Jin speaks again: "If you'll have me. This is where I want to be."
Kame licks his lips, his mouth bone dry.
"So-" He takes a breath. "I - I hoped." He swallows, tries to take another breath, but there isn't enough oxygen in all the world. "I tried not to," he says, "but-"
"You did?" Jin's fingers twist to find purchase, he pulls Kame to him, and Kame slips out of his chair and, dazed, lets himself be manhandled until he's straddling Jin's lap, the chair protesting beneath them.
"Will it hold?" Jin asks, nearly laughing as he looks down in alarm.
"I don't fucking care," Kame says, and now they're both laughing, or crying, Kame's face hidden in the crook of Jin's neck, Jin's arms wrapped around him so tightly he can barely breathe.
::
::
epilogue
Kame and Yamapi close Zenzero for three days in mid-July so Haruka's kitchen staff can attend her wedding. Early on a steamy Friday morning, Kame drives upstate with Jin in a rented convertible to a hotel five hours north of the city, a sprawling estate with rolling green lawns, a small lake, and splendid views of rural countryside in every direction.
Six and a half months on, and it seems natural to glance over into the passenger seat and catch Jin with his head tipped back on the head-rest, sunlight glinting off mirrored lenses and wind tousling his hair as he strums an air guitar while singing along to the Velvet Underground on the stereo.
"Oh, sweet nuthin,' she ain't got nothin' at all..."
It feels good to be on the road. It feels good to be getting away, to be driving out of the humid, smelly, oppressive hulking city. Most importantly, Haruka's wedding is a welcome respite from the inside-out, upside-down insanity they've both been living through for the last several months.
For a while, it really seemed like everything was going to hell in a handbasket - the search and never-ending tryouts for a new executive chef, a sous chef and other replacement cooks dragged on weeks and months longer than they'd hoped; the chaos and uncertainty generated destructive attention from the press. The internet seemed simultaneously gleeful and disappointed to proclaim the downfall of their once steady, sure enterprise. The haters from the early days had never really gone away so Kayakuya's current woes allowed them to repeat ad nauseum how Kame and Yamapi were just a pair of overhyped pretentious chefs who'd drunk their own Kool-Aid and present circumstances were proving them to be the imposters their detractors had always known them to be. If Kame and Yamapi were less plugged into social media then perhaps they could have insulated themselves from the backlash but there was no way to avoid it - not and still maintain credibility in the face of their critics.
For months, Kame and Yamapi worked tirelessly with Jin and Koki Tanaka in the kitchen at Sesamo, scrounging up temporary cooks, trying to train new ones, desperate to turn the tide and repair the damage done during Andrew's lethal last months when every good cook had fled, like rats on a sinking ship, for less volatile employment.
In May, Yamapi convinced Susanna to come back, this time as executive chef.
It's taken them all this time - and no small damage to the company's reputation and bottom line - to regain the confidence of their one-time regulars, and to rebuild the Sesamo kitchen staff into something they can feel good about again.
They're not out of the woods yet, but things have been looking up. Jin resurrected Inboccalupo in May to great fanfare, and is once again coping with too many private bookings; he's rebuilding the professional momentum he lost when he put his work on hold to help Kayakuya. A fair number of good blog reviews of Sesamo have popped up in recent weeks, so clearly some eaters are taking a chance on them again; their weekend bookings are back up even if the rest of the week is still somewhat slow. Kame is praying the growing blog buzz will get them a professional review sometime soon to drive more diners back into the restaurant.
"I have an employee," Jin says, apropos of nothing. Kame snaps out of his reverie to glance at Jin.
"What?"
"I officially hired Yamada a couple days ago. I didn't tell you?"
Kame shakes his head. There's been so much going on between the restaurants and the wedding that it's not surprising Jin's news hasn't surfaced yet.
"Good for you," Kame says. "You've really needed some reliable full-time support."
"God, yes," Jin groans. "I'm so tired of trying to scare up a good sous chef when I need one."
"He's a good kid," Kame says.
"Yeah, and by the way, have I told you how crazy it is that you call Yamada a kid?"
Kame bristles defensively. "What's wrong with it?"
"Kame, you can't be serious. You talk like an old man. Yamada is twenty-nine. He's so not a kid."
"He looks twelve! I can't help it." Kame glances at Jin only to see Jin shifting to face him.
"You call Rowan a kid, Kame, and he's exactly the same age as Yamada. Rowan. James Beard Award winner. Chef-owner of two successful establishments, three if you count Outlandish. You call Rowan fucking Petersen a kid." Jin's working the sarcastic deadpan to great effect.
Kame quirks a grin. "Well, when you put it like that."
Jin shakes his head. "I'm just saying. You're not an old man. No need to talk like one."
"Can you imagine what they said about us?" They were even younger than Rowan and Yamada, then.
"Don't need to. I remember what they said about us. And we really were kids. We were infants."
"Yeah." Kame props his left elbow on the door and tilts his head into the rush of the car's forward motion. "Not kids anymore."
"Hey," Jin says, reaching out to rest his hand on the back of Kame's neck. "Don't get melancholy on me. We're older and we're wiser."
Kame smiles. "We're certainly older."
"Well," Jin says in a matter-of-fact tone, "you and I would not be in this car right now if we weren't wiser."
Kame can't argue with that.
--
The next morning, they stand in the large, gleaming hotel kitchen with Yamapi, Haruka, and Runa's Puerto Rican grandmother, watching as Runa and two of her pastry chef friends circle the assembled but undecorated layers of the wedding cake Runa had insisted - against all advice - on making herself.
Her hair is wrapped in turquoise cloth the color of Caribbean water and her white tank top and drawstring trousers hang off her tiny, vanishing frame. Both Runa and Haruka have lost weight during this last stretch of weeks as the stress of working their demanding jobs and coordinating all the never-ending details for their wedding weekend have taken their toll.
"What was I thinking?" Runa mutters. I have no idea, Yamapi mouths silently behind her back.
Kame knows the cake will be magnificent when it's finished: it's all moist dark chocolate layers split and filled with alternating peppermint, mocha and chocolate buttercreams. The only trick is figuring out how to place the custom-made decorated edible paper Runa had designed with elaborate printed patterns on each of the layers so the cake will look like a towering pile of beautifully-wrapped gifts.
"I thought this would be so easy," she moans, while her grandmother looks on with a sympathetic frown and Haruka alternates between biting her knuckles and chewing her lower lip. Yamapi, staring in horrified fascination because he does not do dessert, shakes his head. Jin, on the other hand, studies the three pastry chefs intently; unlike many chefs, Jin does do dessert.
In the end it takes an hour and a half to pipe all the edible adhesive gel, to delicately place all the carefully-measured-and-sliced sheets of edible paper, to squeeze out all the shells and rosettes of chocolate buttercream. At long last Runa straightens.
Everyone takes a deep breath and sighs as she lays down the pastry bag of buttercream. She steps back from her spectacular creation and looks over her shoulder at Haruka, sweat shining on her face, her eyes glowing with pride and triumph. When Haruka darts over to wrap Runa in a giant hug, Kame and the others applaud.
--
The late afternoon wedding is, unsurprisingly, lovely. The brides - Haruka in a red frock and Runa in white - are gorgeous as they stand beneath a rose-hung arbor and exchange their vows; their families are ecstatic, and the day, while hot, could not be more perfect: the blue sky is dotted by a few puffy white clouds, the grass is a lush velvet carpet, and the breeze coming off the small lake is refreshing.
It's easy to be sentimental while watching his dear friend and colleague marry the woman she loves. Kame would have to be a stone to remain untouched by the blaze of affection and commitment on display. Kame is not a stone. Instead, he's happy - happy in every way a person can be when doubt and insecurity have fled and calm surety is left behind.
He can feel Jin's eyes on him, even obscured behind sunglasses; he feels Jin's gaze like a physical caress. Turning, Kame's throat tightens as he takes in the reddish glow of the sun on Jin's dark hair, of it glinting off Jin's mirrored lenses, warming the light brown skin of Jin's face. He lingers on the curve of Jin's smile.
There is no past, there is no future, there is only sunlight on Jin's face on a beautiful summer day.
And love, there is so much love.
--
It's late, past midnight, and the revelry is dying down.
Yamapi reaches high in a long stretch on the other side of the table without bothering to hide his yawn. When he lowers his arms, one hand catches on Toma's collar, heedless of Toma turned away, speaking with Kyoko-san on his other side. Kame, more than half-drunk, toys with the stem of a glass of white wine, his eyes half-lidded as he watches Jin dancing with Sanjay on the little dance floor. The slowly spinning mirrorball suspended from the apex of the white tent casts shifting drops of light over the few remaining dancers. Strings of white lights twinkle in the dark of the summer night and humidity clings to Kame's skin.
The wedding feast has been eaten, the exquisite cake has been cut and devoured, and the brides have danced their first, second and twentieth dances, shared many kisses to the tinkling of silverware on crystal, made heartfelt speeches to their assembled loved ones, and many, many toasts have been drunk.
Now only a few remain.
When Jin and Sanjay saunter back, loose-limbed and laughing, Kame smiles, tracking Jin's approach until they each drop into seats on either side of him. Jin takes up Kame's hand and brushes his lips across Kame's knuckles.
"If I ask for a last dance," Jin asks, slightly out of breath, "will you dance with me?" He's disheveled, his collar open, the knot of his tie loose, hanging low, and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. His face is moist with sweat, strands of hair sticking to the sides of his face.
Kame tilts his head, pondering. "If I do, do I get a prize?" he asks, leaning in close to catch Jin's lips with his own.
"Okay, knock it off, you two," Yamapi says in a jovial tone, throwing a balled-up napkin at Jin's forehead from across the table. It falls to the floor between Jin and Kame's seats. "Get a room."
Jin mock-glares at him. "What is wrong with you, Pi? It's not like you aren't getting laid tonight."
"That's right," Toma says, turning back to them now that Kyoko-san has left. "What's wrong with you? It's not like you won't-" He scratches his head. "Oh, wait." He turns an evil grin on Yamapi who springs up from his chair with alacrity.
"No, no, no," Yamapi says. "Withholding sex is not allowed. I'm just gonna - I'm just gonna go over there and dance with Nina." Toma's wicked cackle follows him as he darts away.
Jin looks back at Kame and with a grin, pulls him up, leads back out to the dance floor where Haruka and Runa are still twined together like the stripes of a candy cane. Haruka lifts her head off Runa's shoulder as they approach and her face lights up.
"Is it time?" she asks, addressing Jin. Kame quickly looks at Jin and says, curious, "What? Is it what time?"
Jin starts to laugh as Haruka and Runa walk out to the edges of the dance floor and beckon everyone who's still left to join them with their champagne flutes. Kame looks around and see Susanna and her husband, Sanjay who's now holding baby Kyoko against his shoulder, Meisa and René, Toma, Nina holding Yamapi's arm, a few others. Haruka has come up with a couple bottles of champagne from somewhere and she and Runa split up to make sure everyone has something in their glass. Haruka runs over on bare feet and pushes empty flutes into Kame and Jin's hands, pours for them, too.
"What's going on?" Kame asks.
"Last toast," Haruka says. "Last song. Time for us to turn into pumpkins."
Kame watches as Runa helps Haruka climb onto a chair to make one final toast, her glass raised high, and everyone follows suit, cheering Haruka and Runa until Haruka surprises Kame by raising both her arms and crying out: "Hit it."
When the music begins, Kame's eyes widen in amazement, and he nearly doubles over with giddy laughter as he meets Jin's dancing eyes. He looks around and sees most of their friends on the dance floor with them, with Haruka and Runa, and after that twangy little guitar intro, when Keith Richards begins singing "their" song, the song Jin sang for him on Kame's eighteenth birthday, everyone else sings along, too. Haruka and Runa twirl their way close to Kame and Jin and Runa says: "Haruka wanted this for our first dance. I told her it should be our last. It's kinda perfect, don't you think?"
Listening to the chorus of voices around them, Kame's inclined to agree. Every wedding should include rousing-chorus crowd-participation love songs.
Hey babe, you got my soul
You got the silver, you got the gold
A flash of love has made me blind
I don't care, no, that's no big surprise
Kame reaches up to curl an arm around Jin's neck, careful not to tip out the last few swallows of champagne. Jin tugs him in close and bends his head down to Kame's ear.
"I swear, I didn't put them up to it," Jin says.
"You're a fucking liar," Kame laughs.
"I really, really didn't," Jin insists. "But you go ahead and keep thinking that if it makes me look good." Jin lays his cheek against Kame's and tightens his arm around Kame's shoulders.
"You don't need to look good," Kame grins.
"Flatterer."
Kame reaches up with a free hand, strokes the hair back from Jin's forehead, holds Jin's warm, brown gaze. "Doesn't mean it isn't true."
Jin loosens his arms and grabs Kame's free hand, gently pulling Kame off the dance floor, away from the others. He backs Kame up to a tent pole and Kame leans up for a kiss.
It's so natural now, it's like breathing.
When they break apart, it's with wide, tipsy grins. Kame says: "So how about that room?" He's already imagining a quick shower and stretching out with Jin, naked on their cool, soft sheets.
Jin laughs. "Yeah," he says, looking back at their friends. The music is gone, Haruka and Runa are saying goodbye to the last stragglers.
Haruka catches Kame's eye. She and Runa wave while he kisses his hand to them; his face aches from smiling. With a parting wave, and Jin warm at his side, Kame is already turning away.
"Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying,
eating of the last sweet bite."
Joy Harjo
from "Perhaps The World Ends Here" (1994)
end.