Fic for haikuesque
Title: 赤 -red-
By: goldfreckled
Pairing: Akame
Rating: R
Genre/Warnings: angst; mentions of blood and death (of historical people), implied sex
Notes: Inspired by Kame's performance of 1582 at BTR and interpretations of it actually being about Mori Ranmaru and Oda Nobunaga's romance that ended with their death in 1582. "Don't let them come in, Ran" is said to be Oda's last sentence before he died.
To k_julia and solo____: I adore your Akame and I did my very best to write something you might like. I have no idea what you think of Kame's performance or if you agree on the interpretation, but if you enjoy it just a little bit I'd be very glad. ♥
Summary: A documentary of Kame preparing for doing 1582 live, told through Jin's eyes.
He's out dancing, drinking, partying - people touching him and smiling at him, swirling together like colours in his alcohol-numbed mind. He still feels the movements, the rhythm urging him on, even when he stands in front of his door in the middle of an exchangeable floor in a building somewhere in Tokyo.
The door creaks when he swings it open and his I'm home sounds slurred and slow but the answer that sounds from the living-room, tired and quiet and still awake, makes him feel worse than the hangover already raging in his head. He pads around the apartment, stops in front of the couch and looks down at his lover.
"You still up?", Jin asks, careful not to step on the books and magazines spread out around Kame's slight form.
"Couldn't sleep", Kame answers. He doesn't look up, though, concentrating instead on reading an old KAT-TUN interview.
Kame looks tired and exhausted and most of all very much not in the mood to talk about his day, to talk about filming the last episode of a drama that no one wants to see, how the staff is tense and whispering about Kamenashi-kun really dragging the ratings down. There are dark circles under his eyes, his skin looks pale in the lamp-light. Jin's eyes flicker to the glass on the table just next to Kame and the half empty whiskey bottle.
"Come to bed?", Jin asks, taking off his fedora. Kame hums something non-committal and flips a page in the magazine. It's an old issue of Myojo, a two-page spread featuring KAT-TUN sometime before their debut: Koki with his long bangs hanging into his face, Ueda's blonde hair and Kame's bushy eyebrows. Jin doesn't remember the interview or the photoshoot or even the year the pictures were taken; it all sort of blurs together after a while. The Kame of right now, of 2009, lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. He looks so very different to the smiling boy printed on paper.
Jin takes a step over Kame's reading material and gets down on his knees behind him. Kame's belly feels tense when Jin's arms wrap around his middle but he doesn't flinch when Jin burries his nose in Kame's nape.
"I love you", he says quietly, inhaling the scent of soap lying heavily on Kame's skin.
The sun will go up in an hour or two.
---
Things don't make dramatic turns after Jin's confession and for a while they continue just like that: Jin coming home late in the night or early in the morning, reeking of beer and tequila and sweat while Kame sits on the couch in their living-room, working his way through books on theatre and samurai and old issues of what seems like every idol magazine he could get his hands on, circling passages with one hand while the other is petting Ran-chan. It probably isn't very healthy, for neither of them. It doesn't stop them, though.
When they lie together, caressed by the first rays of the morning sun, it's always urgent, both of them clawing at each other and leaving deep red marks with sharp nails on frail skin instead of talking about their problems like a normal couple.
The aftermath is calmer or at least that's what if feels like to Jin; Kame getting up to dispose of condoms and traces of semen on their stomachs while Jin is still lounging in the same position Kame last pushed him, sometimes on his belly with his head buried in the pillows, sometimes on his back with his legs spread wide. He likes to feel decadent like that, listen to the birds chirping in the distance when Kame returns from the bathroom and rakes tired eyes over Jin's cooling body. That's another tingle in his belly, but by then they're both too exhausted to even think about coming together a second time.
They curl up underneath the blankets, hands resting on hips and feet tangled together, as close to each other as they can get.
"Do you remember Oda Nobunaga?" Kame starts so softly that Jin doesn't even register the question at first. He opens his eyes and regards Kame's brown eyes calmly, lets his gaze sweep over the skin stretched tight over his cheek bones.
"Hm", Jin says finally, snuggling a little closer into Kame's side.
And Kame opens his mouth to breathe the tale of a romance over Jin's collarbones, tells him stories of the powerful samurai and his handsome servant and their love that was far greater than any meaningless relationship the samurai might have had with a concubine or even his wife. He mentions anecdotes of Mori Ranmaru's beauty and his knowledge of his master's wishes but most of all Kame goes on and on about dying together, love that continues after death and isn't this the greatest thing, to be together forever?
Jin blinks, his eyelids dragging upwards slowly. "Is this about me and marrying again?" he mutters into Kame's neck, his sleepy mind fixed on the darkness that's just a step away.
"Not everything is about you", Kame mutters. The words don't register in Jin's brain before he's fast asleep.
---
They seem to switch after that. Kame comes home late at night, exhausted from meetings and more meetings he requested himself and crawls into bed with Jin, pressing his cold feet and warm hands all over Jin's sleeping body until he wakes up enough to turn his head and press a sloppy kiss to the corner of Kame's lips. When it comes down to it, they have most of their conversations around breakfast, bent over cups of coffee until they feel refreshed enough to properly look at each other.
"I have no idea what you're up to, really", Jin confesses after a few nights of Kame's nightly adventures. The coffee is too strong, Kame is tired.
"It's not like I have some secret life I don't tell you about", Kame murmurs, "it's just meetings about the album."
"But we have those all day. I can't imagine what else you would want to discuss."
Kame curls his hands tighter around his cup and watches the steam curl up into the air. The circles under his eyes aren't fading. Jin wants to tie him to a bed and make them go away.
"I'm having meetings about my solo", Kame says slowly, staring into his drink like it's the most fascinating thing to him right now. "I'm mostly talking to lyricists and composers about what I want to say and what I want it to look like on stage. It's a little complicated, management thinks my ideas are too risky."
Kame's hair tickles his neck and he absent-mindedly shakes his head to swipe the bangs away from where they're sticking to his skin, still damp from their shower. He looks exhausted and vulnerable and young with a sweater around his slim frame and those geeky glasses on his nose. It's not exactly what Jin thinks of when he hears risky.
---
The coffee doesn't get weaker, but Kame's behaviour starts to make a lot more sense once Jin hears 1582 for the first time.
“So your historic hard-on for Mori Ranmaru is still going strong?" he asks bluntly while Kame is poking at a rather questionable combination of fruit salad and aspirin. The shadows seem permanently edged into his skin and the glare he directs at Jin is half-hearted at best.
"It's not like that", Kame explains through a mouthful of pineapple, "I merely admire his personality."
"His personality", Jin echoes. "He looks like a girl and works as a boy toy and in the end he kills himself before he's even out of puberty."
"You thought you were very out-of-puberty when you were 17", Kame notes.
"I wasn't someone's boy toy when I was 17."
"You still looked like a girl."
"Shut up", Jin whines. "I'm teasing you about your crush on a dead pretty-boy, why can't you cooperate? Fuck, gimme more coffee, it's too early to think of logical arguments."
They both watch on as Kame tips the teapot and fills Jin's cup with more caffeine.
"I think what he did was really impressive", Kame starts when Jin dumps spoonfuls of sugar into the drink. "He killed himself to be with the one he loved forever."
Jin raises an eyebrow and demonstratively puts even more sugar into his coffee. "I don't think it's very impressive", he states.
"Would you kill yourself if I did it first?" Kame asks, fixing Jin with a look.
Jin fumbles with the spoon and the clatter of metal landing on the table is loud in their otherwise silent apartment. Kame calmly reaches for the utensil and puts it next to Jin's plate. Jin stares at Kame's pale hand, watches his fingers uncurl from around the spoon.
"I don't want you to die at all", Jin says.
---
A few days later, a beautiful fan arrives at their apartment. The expensive paper is painted in swirls of green and blue on a golden base, in the middle a dragon is drawn with careful strokes of black ink.
Kame, naturally, is overjoyed.
"It's for the intro", Kame tells Jin excitedly during a break at filming for Cartoon KAT-TUN when they're lounging on a couch backstage, waiting for their turn. The dressing-room is empty; their band mates have gone for lunch. Jin pokes curiously at the bento on his lap, stops Kame's explanation to put a piece of squid in his mouth. It doesn't keep him from talking very long.
"I'm using parts from Noh theatre", Kame continues, leaning back a little to get comfortable but not enough to wrinkle his suit, "that way I can portray more than one character."
"Hm", Jin says non-commitally. He doesn't know much about Noh, only that it's men playing women. He thinks Johnny-san must like it.
"The costume department is getting me a mask and another fan so everyone can see when I'm changing, I just need to close one fan and open another.”
Jin feeds Kame more seafood, watches him close his eyes when he's chewing on a particularly delicious piece. It's been years since Kame last wore traditional clothing for anything but photo shoots.
---
Jin starts working with Crystal Kay and their duet is coming along nicely. Jin likes the rhythm, the words, the language. It's comfortable to write a song with her even though they're not really friends and when he gets home he feels happy and accomplished.
Kame is sitting in the kitchen when Jin finds him; a mirror is propped against bottles of juice and beer, lipstick-tubes are scattered all over the table, balled-up tissues on the floor. It's not even the strangest thing Jin has come home to.
"What are you up to?" Jin asks casually, sitting down next to Kame who starts wiping at the blue-ish shade of red on his lips. It's the only kind of make-up Kame is wearing; he hasn't made any effort to cover the dark rings even when he is painting his mouth in the middle of the night. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone but Kame, probably.
"I was thinking about emphasizing the femininity a bit more", Kame says, letting the tissue fall down to pool with the other ones, "I thought it might look good, but it doesn't."
He reaches for another tube, inspects the colour critically. It's a little pink, a lot red, nothing he hasn't tried before, judging from the discarded wipes. Jin watches attentively as Kame drags the stick over his lips. Kame leans closer to the mirror, uses his fingers to form everything to his satisfaction.
"What do you think?" he asks and turns to face Jin fully.
Jin cups Kame's chin in his palm, turns his head so the light reflects off his shiny mouth. The shade looks unnatural on Kame's thin boyish lips but that might just be the reason Kame wants to wear it in the first place. Jin likes it better when Kame's lips are bruised from their kisses but he's fine with Kame not wanting to show that to a sold-out stadium. At home it might be alright, though.
Kame doesn't look shocked when Jin uses his hand to draw him closer and angle his head a little more to the side but he still gasps quietly when Jin presses their lips together. It feels different with lipstick making their mouths glide together, staining their faces with red. It's a lot like kissing a girl except Kame feels very male from his short hair against Jin's arm to his aggressive tongue in Jin's mouth.
They part slowly because it's been a while, hectic schedules keeping them from enjoying each other's bodies.
Jin draws a hand over his mouth, frowns when he sees lipstick staining his skin. He turns around to asks Kame for one of his tissues but Kame is very much not available, fascinated by his reflection in the mirror. His eyes dart over the colour smudged around his lips and he looks dazed when he lifts a finger to smudge it even more, drawing a line down to his chin.
"It looks a bit like blood, doesn't it?" he mutters, dragging his thumb over his lower lip. Jin thinks of killing with a kiss. It all seems rather macabre to him.
---
The tubes of lipstick leave the apartment rather quickly while Kame's fascination with samurai and theatre still won't fade. Neither do the shadows underneath his eyes and Jin wonders when he's gonna start thinking of them as part of Kame and not traces of being stretched too thin. He hopes it won't ever happen.
Jin still comes home when it's more morning than night but slowly it turns back to Kame already being home. Not immersed in a pile of magazines but trailing through the apartment, still planning. Jin catches him smoothing his hands over the silk of a kimono more than once and one night he walks in on Kame talking with Koki, both of them sprawled on their couch, drinking beer and discussing what might be Kame's solo or gay samurai romance in general.
"No, it's really pretty, Kame", Koki is saying when Jin walks in. They nod at each other, Kame smiles at Jin. "It's good."
"I'd really like you to be part of it", Kame answers, following Jin with his eyes as he goes into his bedroom and closes the door. "It's important to me."
---
Jin gets used to coming home to Kame waiting up and it soon starts to become just what he needs after a stressful day; Kame's warm fingers gripping his biceps when they kiss good night.
It's what he expects, after a while, and when he steps out of the genkan when it's already spring and there are only a few weeks left to prepare for the dome-concerts and Kame isn't in the kitchen or the living-room but on Jin's bed, a red silk kimono hiding too little, pale skin stretched out on the blankets and limbs artfully arranged, Jin is rather pleasantly surprised.
Kame looks up at him with trusting brown eyes, his chin demurely lowered. It's very submissive and even though the built-up has been going on for weeks, Jin still feels dazed at the blatant promise in Kame's pose.
He leans down slowly and Kame stretches his neck to meet Jin, their lips colliding in the middle. Jin feels content to take it slow, to lazily move his lips and delight in the little gasp Kame muffles against his mouth. He moves down until he sits on the bed next to Kame, close enough to drag one of his hands up Kame's milky thighs. Kame doesn't move, not even when Jin slides his hand under the fabric, palming the curve of Kame's hip.
Jin leans closer still, reaches up to pull the cloth off Kame's shoulders, watches it pool around his waist; red and white in stark contrast. His hand seems dark against Kame's pale belly but it just makes the picture more enticing, more exciting. Jin bends his head to lap at Kame's tiny nipples, feels them harden under his tongue. The colours swirl together in his head, Kame's light complexion, Jin's own darker tan, the scarlet of silk and the gold of the fan-
Jin straightens and gazes at the open fan sitting on Kame's desk. It's peonies, Jin thinks, in green and blue on golden background, limited on one side by dark brown bamboo. Opening a fan to signal the playing of a new role. Kame's rather uncharacteristic submission in bed. Red silk still splayed around pale skin.
"Close the fan", Jin says. Kame glances at him and gets up to shut the fan with a snap.
"You know", Jin starts when Kame doesn't move and the fabric starts slipping where it's only barely bound together around his waist, "sometimes you're taking that acting thing a bit too far."
---
He turns on the shower and for a moment he just stands under the spray, letting the cool water freeze his arousal. He doesn't hear the door opening or the soft footsteps on the cold tiles, but he notices the shower curtain opening and Kame glaring at him.
"I'm not taking it too far", Kame says and steps inside so they can't help but squeeze together in the narrow cubicle. "I thought it would be fun. You liked Hayato and Ryu."
Jin reaches for the shampoo and starts massaging Kame's hair. He forms a Mohawk on Kame's head and destroys it immediately afterwards. "I like you best."
Kame's lips tug at that and he lays a hand on Jin's waist.
"Your performance is going to be great and I know you really get off on that Nobunaga/Ranmaru stuff", he giggles when Kame rolls his eyes, "but I like to be with you and not some subbie little pretty boy who thought dying with his master would be awesome. That's boring."
He feels a little embarrassed, talking like that, because he really did like Hayato and Ryu, when they would roll around and play-punch each other, when they were both fighting for dominance. It was hot and fun and most of all behind scripted personas it was still Jin and Kame.
Jin still thinks that whole samurai romance-thing is too much about death and too little about life. He doesn't want to think about last times when he makes love to Kame or Kame makes love to him.
Jin starts washing the shampoo out of Kame's hair when he feels both of Kame's arms wrapping around his waist.
"I'm sorry about not warning you", Kame tells Jin's chest. Jin turns the temperature a little higher and Kame starts rubbing little circles against Jin's back. "I really thought the silk would get you."
"I was really more concerned with what was beneath that fabric."
Kame presses a little closer to Jin and licks at a droplet near Jin's collarbone. Jin twitches.
"Wanna check out the underneath now?" Kame offers innocently. Jin smirks.
---
Much later they lie in bed where it's less wet and cold. Their hands lie on each others hips, their feet are tangled together. Jin is fast asleep; his dark hair curls damply on the pillow.
The night is over and the light streaming into their bedroom announces the day. Kame wonders when he last saw a morning in bed with Jin.
Someone knocks at the door and Kame lazily turns around to peek into the rest of the apartment. Ran-chan is sitting in the doorway to the bedroom, probably eager to see what Kame will do about the disturber at the door.
"Ran-chan", Kame whispers and the dog waggles its tail. Kame smiles.
"Don't let them come in, Ran-chan", he says and snuggles back in against Jin. Right now, like this, everything is alright.
---
The End.
By: goldfreckled
Pairing: Akame
Rating: R
Genre/Warnings: angst; mentions of blood and death (of historical people), implied sex
Notes: Inspired by Kame's performance of 1582 at BTR and interpretations of it actually being about Mori Ranmaru and Oda Nobunaga's romance that ended with their death in 1582. "Don't let them come in, Ran" is said to be Oda's last sentence before he died.
To k_julia and solo____: I adore your Akame and I did my very best to write something you might like. I have no idea what you think of Kame's performance or if you agree on the interpretation, but if you enjoy it just a little bit I'd be very glad. ♥
Summary: A documentary of Kame preparing for doing 1582 live, told through Jin's eyes.
He's out dancing, drinking, partying - people touching him and smiling at him, swirling together like colours in his alcohol-numbed mind. He still feels the movements, the rhythm urging him on, even when he stands in front of his door in the middle of an exchangeable floor in a building somewhere in Tokyo.
The door creaks when he swings it open and his I'm home sounds slurred and slow but the answer that sounds from the living-room, tired and quiet and still awake, makes him feel worse than the hangover already raging in his head. He pads around the apartment, stops in front of the couch and looks down at his lover.
"You still up?", Jin asks, careful not to step on the books and magazines spread out around Kame's slight form.
"Couldn't sleep", Kame answers. He doesn't look up, though, concentrating instead on reading an old KAT-TUN interview.
Kame looks tired and exhausted and most of all very much not in the mood to talk about his day, to talk about filming the last episode of a drama that no one wants to see, how the staff is tense and whispering about Kamenashi-kun really dragging the ratings down. There are dark circles under his eyes, his skin looks pale in the lamp-light. Jin's eyes flicker to the glass on the table just next to Kame and the half empty whiskey bottle.
"Come to bed?", Jin asks, taking off his fedora. Kame hums something non-committal and flips a page in the magazine. It's an old issue of Myojo, a two-page spread featuring KAT-TUN sometime before their debut: Koki with his long bangs hanging into his face, Ueda's blonde hair and Kame's bushy eyebrows. Jin doesn't remember the interview or the photoshoot or even the year the pictures were taken; it all sort of blurs together after a while. The Kame of right now, of 2009, lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. He looks so very different to the smiling boy printed on paper.
Jin takes a step over Kame's reading material and gets down on his knees behind him. Kame's belly feels tense when Jin's arms wrap around his middle but he doesn't flinch when Jin burries his nose in Kame's nape.
"I love you", he says quietly, inhaling the scent of soap lying heavily on Kame's skin.
The sun will go up in an hour or two.
---
Things don't make dramatic turns after Jin's confession and for a while they continue just like that: Jin coming home late in the night or early in the morning, reeking of beer and tequila and sweat while Kame sits on the couch in their living-room, working his way through books on theatre and samurai and old issues of what seems like every idol magazine he could get his hands on, circling passages with one hand while the other is petting Ran-chan. It probably isn't very healthy, for neither of them. It doesn't stop them, though.
When they lie together, caressed by the first rays of the morning sun, it's always urgent, both of them clawing at each other and leaving deep red marks with sharp nails on frail skin instead of talking about their problems like a normal couple.
The aftermath is calmer or at least that's what if feels like to Jin; Kame getting up to dispose of condoms and traces of semen on their stomachs while Jin is still lounging in the same position Kame last pushed him, sometimes on his belly with his head buried in the pillows, sometimes on his back with his legs spread wide. He likes to feel decadent like that, listen to the birds chirping in the distance when Kame returns from the bathroom and rakes tired eyes over Jin's cooling body. That's another tingle in his belly, but by then they're both too exhausted to even think about coming together a second time.
They curl up underneath the blankets, hands resting on hips and feet tangled together, as close to each other as they can get.
"Do you remember Oda Nobunaga?" Kame starts so softly that Jin doesn't even register the question at first. He opens his eyes and regards Kame's brown eyes calmly, lets his gaze sweep over the skin stretched tight over his cheek bones.
"Hm", Jin says finally, snuggling a little closer into Kame's side.
And Kame opens his mouth to breathe the tale of a romance over Jin's collarbones, tells him stories of the powerful samurai and his handsome servant and their love that was far greater than any meaningless relationship the samurai might have had with a concubine or even his wife. He mentions anecdotes of Mori Ranmaru's beauty and his knowledge of his master's wishes but most of all Kame goes on and on about dying together, love that continues after death and isn't this the greatest thing, to be together forever?
Jin blinks, his eyelids dragging upwards slowly. "Is this about me and marrying again?" he mutters into Kame's neck, his sleepy mind fixed on the darkness that's just a step away.
"Not everything is about you", Kame mutters. The words don't register in Jin's brain before he's fast asleep.
---
They seem to switch after that. Kame comes home late at night, exhausted from meetings and more meetings he requested himself and crawls into bed with Jin, pressing his cold feet and warm hands all over Jin's sleeping body until he wakes up enough to turn his head and press a sloppy kiss to the corner of Kame's lips. When it comes down to it, they have most of their conversations around breakfast, bent over cups of coffee until they feel refreshed enough to properly look at each other.
"I have no idea what you're up to, really", Jin confesses after a few nights of Kame's nightly adventures. The coffee is too strong, Kame is tired.
"It's not like I have some secret life I don't tell you about", Kame murmurs, "it's just meetings about the album."
"But we have those all day. I can't imagine what else you would want to discuss."
Kame curls his hands tighter around his cup and watches the steam curl up into the air. The circles under his eyes aren't fading. Jin wants to tie him to a bed and make them go away.
"I'm having meetings about my solo", Kame says slowly, staring into his drink like it's the most fascinating thing to him right now. "I'm mostly talking to lyricists and composers about what I want to say and what I want it to look like on stage. It's a little complicated, management thinks my ideas are too risky."
Kame's hair tickles his neck and he absent-mindedly shakes his head to swipe the bangs away from where they're sticking to his skin, still damp from their shower. He looks exhausted and vulnerable and young with a sweater around his slim frame and those geeky glasses on his nose. It's not exactly what Jin thinks of when he hears risky.
---
The coffee doesn't get weaker, but Kame's behaviour starts to make a lot more sense once Jin hears 1582 for the first time.
“So your historic hard-on for Mori Ranmaru is still going strong?" he asks bluntly while Kame is poking at a rather questionable combination of fruit salad and aspirin. The shadows seem permanently edged into his skin and the glare he directs at Jin is half-hearted at best.
"It's not like that", Kame explains through a mouthful of pineapple, "I merely admire his personality."
"His personality", Jin echoes. "He looks like a girl and works as a boy toy and in the end he kills himself before he's even out of puberty."
"You thought you were very out-of-puberty when you were 17", Kame notes.
"I wasn't someone's boy toy when I was 17."
"You still looked like a girl."
"Shut up", Jin whines. "I'm teasing you about your crush on a dead pretty-boy, why can't you cooperate? Fuck, gimme more coffee, it's too early to think of logical arguments."
They both watch on as Kame tips the teapot and fills Jin's cup with more caffeine.
"I think what he did was really impressive", Kame starts when Jin dumps spoonfuls of sugar into the drink. "He killed himself to be with the one he loved forever."
Jin raises an eyebrow and demonstratively puts even more sugar into his coffee. "I don't think it's very impressive", he states.
"Would you kill yourself if I did it first?" Kame asks, fixing Jin with a look.
Jin fumbles with the spoon and the clatter of metal landing on the table is loud in their otherwise silent apartment. Kame calmly reaches for the utensil and puts it next to Jin's plate. Jin stares at Kame's pale hand, watches his fingers uncurl from around the spoon.
"I don't want you to die at all", Jin says.
---
A few days later, a beautiful fan arrives at their apartment. The expensive paper is painted in swirls of green and blue on a golden base, in the middle a dragon is drawn with careful strokes of black ink.
Kame, naturally, is overjoyed.
"It's for the intro", Kame tells Jin excitedly during a break at filming for Cartoon KAT-TUN when they're lounging on a couch backstage, waiting for their turn. The dressing-room is empty; their band mates have gone for lunch. Jin pokes curiously at the bento on his lap, stops Kame's explanation to put a piece of squid in his mouth. It doesn't keep him from talking very long.
"I'm using parts from Noh theatre", Kame continues, leaning back a little to get comfortable but not enough to wrinkle his suit, "that way I can portray more than one character."
"Hm", Jin says non-commitally. He doesn't know much about Noh, only that it's men playing women. He thinks Johnny-san must like it.
"The costume department is getting me a mask and another fan so everyone can see when I'm changing, I just need to close one fan and open another.”
Jin feeds Kame more seafood, watches him close his eyes when he's chewing on a particularly delicious piece. It's been years since Kame last wore traditional clothing for anything but photo shoots.
---
Jin starts working with Crystal Kay and their duet is coming along nicely. Jin likes the rhythm, the words, the language. It's comfortable to write a song with her even though they're not really friends and when he gets home he feels happy and accomplished.
Kame is sitting in the kitchen when Jin finds him; a mirror is propped against bottles of juice and beer, lipstick-tubes are scattered all over the table, balled-up tissues on the floor. It's not even the strangest thing Jin has come home to.
"What are you up to?" Jin asks casually, sitting down next to Kame who starts wiping at the blue-ish shade of red on his lips. It's the only kind of make-up Kame is wearing; he hasn't made any effort to cover the dark rings even when he is painting his mouth in the middle of the night. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone but Kame, probably.
"I was thinking about emphasizing the femininity a bit more", Kame says, letting the tissue fall down to pool with the other ones, "I thought it might look good, but it doesn't."
He reaches for another tube, inspects the colour critically. It's a little pink, a lot red, nothing he hasn't tried before, judging from the discarded wipes. Jin watches attentively as Kame drags the stick over his lips. Kame leans closer to the mirror, uses his fingers to form everything to his satisfaction.
"What do you think?" he asks and turns to face Jin fully.
Jin cups Kame's chin in his palm, turns his head so the light reflects off his shiny mouth. The shade looks unnatural on Kame's thin boyish lips but that might just be the reason Kame wants to wear it in the first place. Jin likes it better when Kame's lips are bruised from their kisses but he's fine with Kame not wanting to show that to a sold-out stadium. At home it might be alright, though.
Kame doesn't look shocked when Jin uses his hand to draw him closer and angle his head a little more to the side but he still gasps quietly when Jin presses their lips together. It feels different with lipstick making their mouths glide together, staining their faces with red. It's a lot like kissing a girl except Kame feels very male from his short hair against Jin's arm to his aggressive tongue in Jin's mouth.
They part slowly because it's been a while, hectic schedules keeping them from enjoying each other's bodies.
Jin draws a hand over his mouth, frowns when he sees lipstick staining his skin. He turns around to asks Kame for one of his tissues but Kame is very much not available, fascinated by his reflection in the mirror. His eyes dart over the colour smudged around his lips and he looks dazed when he lifts a finger to smudge it even more, drawing a line down to his chin.
"It looks a bit like blood, doesn't it?" he mutters, dragging his thumb over his lower lip. Jin thinks of killing with a kiss. It all seems rather macabre to him.
---
The tubes of lipstick leave the apartment rather quickly while Kame's fascination with samurai and theatre still won't fade. Neither do the shadows underneath his eyes and Jin wonders when he's gonna start thinking of them as part of Kame and not traces of being stretched too thin. He hopes it won't ever happen.
Jin still comes home when it's more morning than night but slowly it turns back to Kame already being home. Not immersed in a pile of magazines but trailing through the apartment, still planning. Jin catches him smoothing his hands over the silk of a kimono more than once and one night he walks in on Kame talking with Koki, both of them sprawled on their couch, drinking beer and discussing what might be Kame's solo or gay samurai romance in general.
"No, it's really pretty, Kame", Koki is saying when Jin walks in. They nod at each other, Kame smiles at Jin. "It's good."
"I'd really like you to be part of it", Kame answers, following Jin with his eyes as he goes into his bedroom and closes the door. "It's important to me."
---
Jin gets used to coming home to Kame waiting up and it soon starts to become just what he needs after a stressful day; Kame's warm fingers gripping his biceps when they kiss good night.
It's what he expects, after a while, and when he steps out of the genkan when it's already spring and there are only a few weeks left to prepare for the dome-concerts and Kame isn't in the kitchen or the living-room but on Jin's bed, a red silk kimono hiding too little, pale skin stretched out on the blankets and limbs artfully arranged, Jin is rather pleasantly surprised.
Kame looks up at him with trusting brown eyes, his chin demurely lowered. It's very submissive and even though the built-up has been going on for weeks, Jin still feels dazed at the blatant promise in Kame's pose.
He leans down slowly and Kame stretches his neck to meet Jin, their lips colliding in the middle. Jin feels content to take it slow, to lazily move his lips and delight in the little gasp Kame muffles against his mouth. He moves down until he sits on the bed next to Kame, close enough to drag one of his hands up Kame's milky thighs. Kame doesn't move, not even when Jin slides his hand under the fabric, palming the curve of Kame's hip.
Jin leans closer still, reaches up to pull the cloth off Kame's shoulders, watches it pool around his waist; red and white in stark contrast. His hand seems dark against Kame's pale belly but it just makes the picture more enticing, more exciting. Jin bends his head to lap at Kame's tiny nipples, feels them harden under his tongue. The colours swirl together in his head, Kame's light complexion, Jin's own darker tan, the scarlet of silk and the gold of the fan-
Jin straightens and gazes at the open fan sitting on Kame's desk. It's peonies, Jin thinks, in green and blue on golden background, limited on one side by dark brown bamboo. Opening a fan to signal the playing of a new role. Kame's rather uncharacteristic submission in bed. Red silk still splayed around pale skin.
"Close the fan", Jin says. Kame glances at him and gets up to shut the fan with a snap.
"You know", Jin starts when Kame doesn't move and the fabric starts slipping where it's only barely bound together around his waist, "sometimes you're taking that acting thing a bit too far."
---
He turns on the shower and for a moment he just stands under the spray, letting the cool water freeze his arousal. He doesn't hear the door opening or the soft footsteps on the cold tiles, but he notices the shower curtain opening and Kame glaring at him.
"I'm not taking it too far", Kame says and steps inside so they can't help but squeeze together in the narrow cubicle. "I thought it would be fun. You liked Hayato and Ryu."
Jin reaches for the shampoo and starts massaging Kame's hair. He forms a Mohawk on Kame's head and destroys it immediately afterwards. "I like you best."
Kame's lips tug at that and he lays a hand on Jin's waist.
"Your performance is going to be great and I know you really get off on that Nobunaga/Ranmaru stuff", he giggles when Kame rolls his eyes, "but I like to be with you and not some subbie little pretty boy who thought dying with his master would be awesome. That's boring."
He feels a little embarrassed, talking like that, because he really did like Hayato and Ryu, when they would roll around and play-punch each other, when they were both fighting for dominance. It was hot and fun and most of all behind scripted personas it was still Jin and Kame.
Jin still thinks that whole samurai romance-thing is too much about death and too little about life. He doesn't want to think about last times when he makes love to Kame or Kame makes love to him.
Jin starts washing the shampoo out of Kame's hair when he feels both of Kame's arms wrapping around his waist.
"I'm sorry about not warning you", Kame tells Jin's chest. Jin turns the temperature a little higher and Kame starts rubbing little circles against Jin's back. "I really thought the silk would get you."
"I was really more concerned with what was beneath that fabric."
Kame presses a little closer to Jin and licks at a droplet near Jin's collarbone. Jin twitches.
"Wanna check out the underneath now?" Kame offers innocently. Jin smirks.
---
Much later they lie in bed where it's less wet and cold. Their hands lie on each others hips, their feet are tangled together. Jin is fast asleep; his dark hair curls damply on the pillow.
The night is over and the light streaming into their bedroom announces the day. Kame wonders when he last saw a morning in bed with Jin.
Someone knocks at the door and Kame lazily turns around to peek into the rest of the apartment. Ran-chan is sitting in the doorway to the bedroom, probably eager to see what Kame will do about the disturber at the door.
"Ran-chan", Kame whispers and the dog waggles its tail. Kame smiles.
"Don't let them come in, Ran-chan", he says and snuggles back in against Jin. Right now, like this, everything is alright.
---
The End.