[JE] An Idol's Tears Are a Touchy Subject
Title: An Idol's Tears Are a Touchy Subject
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Word count: 2,773
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit
Summary: KAT-TUN's own brand of sadistic love elicits a surprising reaction from Jin.
A/N: MC wanted crying!Jin, and rather than going down the route of "sparkly uke tears" I figured I'd try something in the gen line. Set during the spring of 2007.
Also at AO3 here
An Idol's Tears Are a Touchy Subject
When Jin returns from LA it's like the other members of KAT-TUN are finally able to complete a jigsaw they've been working on for six months. He's the missing piece, the one they lost to America, and now he's with them in Sendai and everything seems brighter, more hopeful.
Everything except Jin himself.
Oh, he looks tanned and healthy, a million miles away from the pale, sickly creature who left to find some breathing room. He's gained weight, along with a glow that has the others patting his stomach on the stage to check for signs of life. It's expected that the group be physically affectionate for the fans, to show that there are no hard feelings, whether it's true or not.
Jin bears with it well the first night, when he only comes out for the encore and gives himself up to the high-fives and half-hugs of his bandmates. By the second, Kame can see he's starting to lose patience with it. Jin never says anything, though, and Kame wonders if perhaps he's afraid to rock the boat again. Now more than ever, they need to be united.
By the time the tour reaches the Tokyo Dome Jin's participating fully in the concerts, though of course he doesn't have a solo and his involvement in some of the new songs is extremely limited. That's just as well, Kame thinks. He needs time to settle back in, but he's got the tour, CMs and their new TV show to handle in addition to the usual round of interviews and photoshoots - he's working harder than he has since their debut.
At least when they're in Tokyo they can go home, no hotels required. Kame invites them all over to his place for homemade curry rice the night before the first Dome concert. It's been a long time since he's had Jin in his apartment; he's moved since then and it's entertaining to watch Jin poking around the place, trying to find things.
"That wasn't the bathroom the first time you tried it, either," Koki points out the second time Jin walks into the closet.
"I was looking for jackets," Jin says with a smirk, like he'd meant to open that door all along. "It's freezing in here."
Kame takes pity on him and points him in the right direction with his spoon. He's not turning on the heat, though. California's probably warmer this time of year but Jin will just have to adapt.
The meal's not as awkward as it could be. The food is excellent, so everyone agrees, and even Kame's happy with the result. They dissect the shows so far - what they're satisfied with, what they'd like to improve on - and toss around ideas for things they could include now they have their full complement.
"More fanservice," Koki says. "The fans haven't seen anything of Jin for six months; they probably want to see some more." He tugs the neck of his T-shirt down over his shoulder for emphasis.
"You're taking care of the fanservice all by yourself," Jin says. "Doesn't your solo have enough of that?"
"It's missing a girl. I wore a skirt and heels for you last year - isn't it about time you returned the favour?"
"No way." Jin shakes his head. "No more cross-dressing for me. Try Kame - I saw the schoolgirl pictures."
Kame slugs Jin in the shoulder, feigning outrage. Jin tries to retaliate but hits Ueda's leg by mistake when Kame manages to dodge. Ueda rouses himself enough to fight back, but on his way off the couch ends up knocking Nakamaru to the floor, which has the unfortunate effect of flattening Koki. Koki decides that somehow, it's all Jin's fault, and throws himself over Junno to launch the unflattened parts of himself - mostly his fingers - at Jin in revenge.
Jin shrieks loud enough to send Ran-chan fleeing for the bedroom when Koki's tickling fingers find his weak spot. The others try to hush him before Kame's neighbours assume someone is being murdered and call the police; it's not until the messy six-way wrestling match on the floor has been underway for three minutes, hair and elbows flying all over the place, that Kame notices that Jin, right at the bottom of the pile, is no longer moving.
At a word from Kame the others withdraw to give Jin some breathing space. He gasps for air the moment he's allowed access to it but Kame doesn't think lack of oxygen is the problem. Jin's shaking all over, tremors the worst Kame's seen since his first bout of wire-work, and his eyes are squeezed tight.
"Did we kill him?" Junno asks. He lays a tentative hand on Jin's shoulder: it might as well be dripping with acid, the way Jin wrenches away from him.
Always practical, Kame tries to check for damage. It's possible a stray elbow or two has caught somewhere vulnerable, or he may simply have had the wind knocked out of him. "Jin? Does it hurt anywhere?"
"I'll get some water." Nakamaru heads for the kitchen.
"I'll get some towels," Ueda says, rising to follow.
"That's for pregnancy!" Koki says. "Unless you know something I don't, I don't think we've somehow induced labour."
Kame expects the humour to do some good, maybe it'll elicit an indignant retort from Jin and then things will be back to normal. The expectation dies when Jin sits up and opens his eyes. Kame just has time to see the first tear escape before he bolts for the bathroom - finding the right door this time.
"No pregnant woman can move that fast," Junno says.
"I didn't think Jin could move that fast," Kame says. At least he can rule out broken ribs.
Koki's face falls. "It's my fault; I'll go talk to him. I know he hates having his collarbones touched."
"I hit him first," Kame points out. "And he's hiding in my bathroom. I'll go."
The bathroom's locked. It takes a couple of minutes for Kame to plead his way inside. He opens the door the moment he hears the lock turn, just in case Jin changes his mind and decides not to let him in after all. Jin doesn't have time to retreat; he's still by the door, wiping furiously at his streaming eyes with one hand. Kame shuts them in again, then takes a step toward him, which makes him back himself into the gap between the sink and the bath.
"Sorry about flattening you," Kame says. He snags a tissue cube from the shelf, holding them out like a peace offering. "We all are. Things...got out of hand."
Jin nods, not even seeing the tissues through his tears until Kame waves the box under his nose. His breath comes in short, truncated gulps, each one sounding more desperate than the last. This isn't because he might've acquired a few new bruises; there's a lot more going on here, that much is evident.
Even so, Kame has to ask again, "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"I-I'm..." Jin pauses to draw an enormous lungful of air, but chokes as he inhales, coughing a few times before he manages to gasp, "I'm fine."
Kame raises an eyebrow. "Of course you are. That's why you're crying your eyes out in my bathroom."
Jin shoots him a glare before snatching up a handful of tissues, which he soaks through in an instant. "It doesn't matter," he mumbles. "It's stupid, okay?"
"If it's making you like this, I don't think it's stupid."
In an effort to reassure him, Kame makes the mistake of reaching for Jin's arm. Jin turns around so fast he bangs his hip on the sink; Kame catches him just before the recoil sends him straight into the bathtub.
That only seems to make things worse.
The tissue box ends up on the floor. Kame's got his hands full trying to keep Jin from pummelling him to death.
"Would you calm down a sec!" He finally manages to catch Jin's wrists, which only makes him struggle harder. It's like trying to keep hold of a bucking horse. "I'm not trying to hurt you!"
"I know that!" Jin gives up when he can't get free and slumps forward, almost brushing Kame's nose with his own as he sags, ragged breaths warm and uneven against Kame's face. He's still trembling all over; Kame has to tighten his grip to keep from being shaken off. "I know that."
"Then stop fighting, okay? Just sit down and tell me what's wrong. You can't go on the stage tomorrow like this." Even if Jin hadn't been a friend and fellow KAT-TUN member, Kame's work ethic would still have forced him to intervene. There's no way they can perform with Jin doing his impression of a waterfall. The "red and blotchy" look might not go down so well with the fans, either.
Though less skilled at it than Kame, Jin can cry "idol tears" for the camera when he has to; a few slow drops shed to melt the hearts of the audience, to make his character look sensitive and pretty. But that's for work. Away from the camera, the slow trickle becomes a torrent, pouring from puffy red eyes.
Jin gives in, sitting on the bathmat with the tissue box in his lap. Kame perches on the toilet lid so he can talk to him from a safe distance, as it looks like he'd rather not have anyone near right now. Even this might be too close.
"Whatever it is, it's not stupid," Kame says gently. "Anything that has such a strong effect on you obviously means something, even if you don't think it does."
"I..." Jin wipes his eyes with a tissue, balls it up and drops it on the floor. Kame's fingers start to itch. "When I...um...in America..."
"In America...?"
"It was...different there, okay?"
"What was?"
"My life."
"I can imagine," Kame says. Of course things had to be different. He's never lived in another country, but even he knows that.
"No, you can't." Jin shakes his head. "You probably can't even remember what it was like before - I know I can't. You join the agency and suddenly there are people everywhere, measuring you for costumes, correcting your dance steps, fussing with your hair." His words spill out one after the other, flowing like the tears still streaking his face. He reaches for another tissue. "Touching. All the time, touching. And then I went to LA and I was nobody and there wasn't anything, except when I had to go to the doctor and even then it was different."
Jin's right - Kame can't remember what it was like before, to just be an ordinary schoolboy, playing baseball and getting ribbed by his older brothers. He's used to all the touching now, to the make-up artists, stylists, wardrobe assistants - even the fanservice. It's no big deal. It's work, that's all it is, same as charming people he doesn't like and keeping his smoking off the camera.
"All right, I can't imagine," he admits. "It must've been very different."
"Yeah." Jin blows his nose; another tissue lands on the floor. He's starting to build a pile of them. "That part was better. It felt like my body was my own again. I wasn't back in Japan five minutes before I had to get a haircut, and they're already on at me to lose weight."
"You don't need to lose weight," Kame says, but he knows Jin won't believe the words. Not coming from him, of all people.
"Sure I don't." Jin smiles bitterly, looking up at him with resignation in his eyes. "What do you think, Kame? How long do you have to be in this industry before you stop feeling like someone else's property?"
Kame shrugs. "Try asking the guys in SMAP; I'm sure they feel like they're their own men. You're always going to have to answer to someone, if you work - I think the trick is to carve out a space for yourself, something no one else can touch. Somewhere you can be the person you want to be, without having to think about what other people want from you."
"Is that how you do it? Is that what baseball is for you?"
"Baseball. Family, friends. Anything I can keep away from work. Nothing to stop you doing the same, Jin."
"I tried that," Jin says. "For six months. Looks like it's really working out for me, doesn't it?"
"Well..." Kame gives him an awkward smile, a little embarrassed. "I didn't say it was a perfect plan. Maybe you have to ease yourself back in?"
"Tried that too, and then..."
"Oh yeah." Oops. "I guess having us all throw ourselves at you didn't do much to help."
"Not really."
Another tissue lands on the bathmat and Kame's inner neat-freak snaps; he has to hand Jin the small pedal bin before the bathroom floor becomes a sea of used tissues. With an apologetic nod, Jin takes the bin; Kame's pleased to note his hand no longer shakes. He might not be happy but at least he's calmed down a bit.
"It's kind of unavoidable, with what we do for a living," Kame says. "I've seen what happens when you try to cut your own hair - it's not pretty. And good luck trying to be your own dentist."
Jin scrunches down against the back of the bath, embarrassment plain on his face. "That's why I said it was stupid."
"I didn't say it was stupid, just that it's not practical. You can't...you can't go back to that, not unless you quit for good."
"I know." Jin wipes away the last trace of moisture from his cheeks, still sniffing a little. "And it'll get easier. It has to, or I might as well give up right now."
"We've just got you back; we're not giving you up again." Kame's deadly earnest about this. They've been through enough already - they can't handle another blow like that, not yet. They need time to recover.
Jin sets the tissue box down, no longer needing it; the tears have given way to a watery smile - unsteady, but genuine. "I'm planning on sticking around for a while yet."
"Good to know." Kame offers Jin a hand up, then thinks better of it. He starts to withdraw his hand, realises that would be rude, and freezes just short of where Jin could reach him.
"I'm not going to freak out if you help me up," Jin says, sounding a trifle exasperated. "If I...if I know you're there and I can see what you're doing, it's not so bad." He leans forward enough to grab Kame's hand, so Kame hauls him to his feet. "Just try not to start any more impromptu wrestling matches."
"Take it up with Koki - he's the one who tried to tickle you to death. And Ueda thinks you're pregnant."
"America didn't change me that much, thank you."
"You need to learn to look after yourself before you can think about looking after a kid, anyway," Kame says. He knows he's about to say something ludicrously mushy but it feels like it's okay to say that kind of thing when it's just the two of them hiding out in his bathroom, with Jin looking like he's just sat through back-to-back showings of Titanic and finished up with Bambi as an encore. "And when you can't look after yourself, we'll do it. I promise to throw myself in front of you if the audience gets grabby."
That makes Jin giggle. "How self-sacrificing of you."
Though it sounds like a joke, Kame's quite serious. "If you need space, you've got it, okay? We can give you that. But you're on your own with the hairdresser. Find yourself a chaperone or something."
"I think I can manage without." Jin leans heavily against the sink, fidgeting with the cuffs of his borrowed jacket. "Sorry I ruined your little get-together."
"I don't think it's completely unsalvageable. They're probably panicking out there by now, though."
"Maybe I should stay in here a while longer, let them ramp up the guilt?" Jin looks exhausted but there's a mischievous sparkle in his eye now; Kame's relieved to see it return.
"Or maybe you should both get out because I need to go," Ueda says as he opens the door. "Unless you'd prefer to stay and watch?"
Jin kicks him on the way out. Clearly some forms of touch are less traumatic than others.
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Word count: 2,773
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit
Summary: KAT-TUN's own brand of sadistic love elicits a surprising reaction from Jin.
A/N: MC wanted crying!Jin, and rather than going down the route of "sparkly uke tears" I figured I'd try something in the gen line. Set during the spring of 2007.
Also at AO3 here
An Idol's Tears Are a Touchy Subject
When Jin returns from LA it's like the other members of KAT-TUN are finally able to complete a jigsaw they've been working on for six months. He's the missing piece, the one they lost to America, and now he's with them in Sendai and everything seems brighter, more hopeful.
Everything except Jin himself.
Oh, he looks tanned and healthy, a million miles away from the pale, sickly creature who left to find some breathing room. He's gained weight, along with a glow that has the others patting his stomach on the stage to check for signs of life. It's expected that the group be physically affectionate for the fans, to show that there are no hard feelings, whether it's true or not.
Jin bears with it well the first night, when he only comes out for the encore and gives himself up to the high-fives and half-hugs of his bandmates. By the second, Kame can see he's starting to lose patience with it. Jin never says anything, though, and Kame wonders if perhaps he's afraid to rock the boat again. Now more than ever, they need to be united.
By the time the tour reaches the Tokyo Dome Jin's participating fully in the concerts, though of course he doesn't have a solo and his involvement in some of the new songs is extremely limited. That's just as well, Kame thinks. He needs time to settle back in, but he's got the tour, CMs and their new TV show to handle in addition to the usual round of interviews and photoshoots - he's working harder than he has since their debut.
At least when they're in Tokyo they can go home, no hotels required. Kame invites them all over to his place for homemade curry rice the night before the first Dome concert. It's been a long time since he's had Jin in his apartment; he's moved since then and it's entertaining to watch Jin poking around the place, trying to find things.
"That wasn't the bathroom the first time you tried it, either," Koki points out the second time Jin walks into the closet.
"I was looking for jackets," Jin says with a smirk, like he'd meant to open that door all along. "It's freezing in here."
Kame takes pity on him and points him in the right direction with his spoon. He's not turning on the heat, though. California's probably warmer this time of year but Jin will just have to adapt.
The meal's not as awkward as it could be. The food is excellent, so everyone agrees, and even Kame's happy with the result. They dissect the shows so far - what they're satisfied with, what they'd like to improve on - and toss around ideas for things they could include now they have their full complement.
"More fanservice," Koki says. "The fans haven't seen anything of Jin for six months; they probably want to see some more." He tugs the neck of his T-shirt down over his shoulder for emphasis.
"You're taking care of the fanservice all by yourself," Jin says. "Doesn't your solo have enough of that?"
"It's missing a girl. I wore a skirt and heels for you last year - isn't it about time you returned the favour?"
"No way." Jin shakes his head. "No more cross-dressing for me. Try Kame - I saw the schoolgirl pictures."
Kame slugs Jin in the shoulder, feigning outrage. Jin tries to retaliate but hits Ueda's leg by mistake when Kame manages to dodge. Ueda rouses himself enough to fight back, but on his way off the couch ends up knocking Nakamaru to the floor, which has the unfortunate effect of flattening Koki. Koki decides that somehow, it's all Jin's fault, and throws himself over Junno to launch the unflattened parts of himself - mostly his fingers - at Jin in revenge.
Jin shrieks loud enough to send Ran-chan fleeing for the bedroom when Koki's tickling fingers find his weak spot. The others try to hush him before Kame's neighbours assume someone is being murdered and call the police; it's not until the messy six-way wrestling match on the floor has been underway for three minutes, hair and elbows flying all over the place, that Kame notices that Jin, right at the bottom of the pile, is no longer moving.
At a word from Kame the others withdraw to give Jin some breathing space. He gasps for air the moment he's allowed access to it but Kame doesn't think lack of oxygen is the problem. Jin's shaking all over, tremors the worst Kame's seen since his first bout of wire-work, and his eyes are squeezed tight.
"Did we kill him?" Junno asks. He lays a tentative hand on Jin's shoulder: it might as well be dripping with acid, the way Jin wrenches away from him.
Always practical, Kame tries to check for damage. It's possible a stray elbow or two has caught somewhere vulnerable, or he may simply have had the wind knocked out of him. "Jin? Does it hurt anywhere?"
"I'll get some water." Nakamaru heads for the kitchen.
"I'll get some towels," Ueda says, rising to follow.
"That's for pregnancy!" Koki says. "Unless you know something I don't, I don't think we've somehow induced labour."
Kame expects the humour to do some good, maybe it'll elicit an indignant retort from Jin and then things will be back to normal. The expectation dies when Jin sits up and opens his eyes. Kame just has time to see the first tear escape before he bolts for the bathroom - finding the right door this time.
"No pregnant woman can move that fast," Junno says.
"I didn't think Jin could move that fast," Kame says. At least he can rule out broken ribs.
Koki's face falls. "It's my fault; I'll go talk to him. I know he hates having his collarbones touched."
"I hit him first," Kame points out. "And he's hiding in my bathroom. I'll go."
The bathroom's locked. It takes a couple of minutes for Kame to plead his way inside. He opens the door the moment he hears the lock turn, just in case Jin changes his mind and decides not to let him in after all. Jin doesn't have time to retreat; he's still by the door, wiping furiously at his streaming eyes with one hand. Kame shuts them in again, then takes a step toward him, which makes him back himself into the gap between the sink and the bath.
"Sorry about flattening you," Kame says. He snags a tissue cube from the shelf, holding them out like a peace offering. "We all are. Things...got out of hand."
Jin nods, not even seeing the tissues through his tears until Kame waves the box under his nose. His breath comes in short, truncated gulps, each one sounding more desperate than the last. This isn't because he might've acquired a few new bruises; there's a lot more going on here, that much is evident.
Even so, Kame has to ask again, "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"I-I'm..." Jin pauses to draw an enormous lungful of air, but chokes as he inhales, coughing a few times before he manages to gasp, "I'm fine."
Kame raises an eyebrow. "Of course you are. That's why you're crying your eyes out in my bathroom."
Jin shoots him a glare before snatching up a handful of tissues, which he soaks through in an instant. "It doesn't matter," he mumbles. "It's stupid, okay?"
"If it's making you like this, I don't think it's stupid."
In an effort to reassure him, Kame makes the mistake of reaching for Jin's arm. Jin turns around so fast he bangs his hip on the sink; Kame catches him just before the recoil sends him straight into the bathtub.
That only seems to make things worse.
The tissue box ends up on the floor. Kame's got his hands full trying to keep Jin from pummelling him to death.
"Would you calm down a sec!" He finally manages to catch Jin's wrists, which only makes him struggle harder. It's like trying to keep hold of a bucking horse. "I'm not trying to hurt you!"
"I know that!" Jin gives up when he can't get free and slumps forward, almost brushing Kame's nose with his own as he sags, ragged breaths warm and uneven against Kame's face. He's still trembling all over; Kame has to tighten his grip to keep from being shaken off. "I know that."
"Then stop fighting, okay? Just sit down and tell me what's wrong. You can't go on the stage tomorrow like this." Even if Jin hadn't been a friend and fellow KAT-TUN member, Kame's work ethic would still have forced him to intervene. There's no way they can perform with Jin doing his impression of a waterfall. The "red and blotchy" look might not go down so well with the fans, either.
Though less skilled at it than Kame, Jin can cry "idol tears" for the camera when he has to; a few slow drops shed to melt the hearts of the audience, to make his character look sensitive and pretty. But that's for work. Away from the camera, the slow trickle becomes a torrent, pouring from puffy red eyes.
Jin gives in, sitting on the bathmat with the tissue box in his lap. Kame perches on the toilet lid so he can talk to him from a safe distance, as it looks like he'd rather not have anyone near right now. Even this might be too close.
"Whatever it is, it's not stupid," Kame says gently. "Anything that has such a strong effect on you obviously means something, even if you don't think it does."
"I..." Jin wipes his eyes with a tissue, balls it up and drops it on the floor. Kame's fingers start to itch. "When I...um...in America..."
"In America...?"
"It was...different there, okay?"
"What was?"
"My life."
"I can imagine," Kame says. Of course things had to be different. He's never lived in another country, but even he knows that.
"No, you can't." Jin shakes his head. "You probably can't even remember what it was like before - I know I can't. You join the agency and suddenly there are people everywhere, measuring you for costumes, correcting your dance steps, fussing with your hair." His words spill out one after the other, flowing like the tears still streaking his face. He reaches for another tissue. "Touching. All the time, touching. And then I went to LA and I was nobody and there wasn't anything, except when I had to go to the doctor and even then it was different."
Jin's right - Kame can't remember what it was like before, to just be an ordinary schoolboy, playing baseball and getting ribbed by his older brothers. He's used to all the touching now, to the make-up artists, stylists, wardrobe assistants - even the fanservice. It's no big deal. It's work, that's all it is, same as charming people he doesn't like and keeping his smoking off the camera.
"All right, I can't imagine," he admits. "It must've been very different."
"Yeah." Jin blows his nose; another tissue lands on the floor. He's starting to build a pile of them. "That part was better. It felt like my body was my own again. I wasn't back in Japan five minutes before I had to get a haircut, and they're already on at me to lose weight."
"You don't need to lose weight," Kame says, but he knows Jin won't believe the words. Not coming from him, of all people.
"Sure I don't." Jin smiles bitterly, looking up at him with resignation in his eyes. "What do you think, Kame? How long do you have to be in this industry before you stop feeling like someone else's property?"
Kame shrugs. "Try asking the guys in SMAP; I'm sure they feel like they're their own men. You're always going to have to answer to someone, if you work - I think the trick is to carve out a space for yourself, something no one else can touch. Somewhere you can be the person you want to be, without having to think about what other people want from you."
"Is that how you do it? Is that what baseball is for you?"
"Baseball. Family, friends. Anything I can keep away from work. Nothing to stop you doing the same, Jin."
"I tried that," Jin says. "For six months. Looks like it's really working out for me, doesn't it?"
"Well..." Kame gives him an awkward smile, a little embarrassed. "I didn't say it was a perfect plan. Maybe you have to ease yourself back in?"
"Tried that too, and then..."
"Oh yeah." Oops. "I guess having us all throw ourselves at you didn't do much to help."
"Not really."
Another tissue lands on the bathmat and Kame's inner neat-freak snaps; he has to hand Jin the small pedal bin before the bathroom floor becomes a sea of used tissues. With an apologetic nod, Jin takes the bin; Kame's pleased to note his hand no longer shakes. He might not be happy but at least he's calmed down a bit.
"It's kind of unavoidable, with what we do for a living," Kame says. "I've seen what happens when you try to cut your own hair - it's not pretty. And good luck trying to be your own dentist."
Jin scrunches down against the back of the bath, embarrassment plain on his face. "That's why I said it was stupid."
"I didn't say it was stupid, just that it's not practical. You can't...you can't go back to that, not unless you quit for good."
"I know." Jin wipes away the last trace of moisture from his cheeks, still sniffing a little. "And it'll get easier. It has to, or I might as well give up right now."
"We've just got you back; we're not giving you up again." Kame's deadly earnest about this. They've been through enough already - they can't handle another blow like that, not yet. They need time to recover.
Jin sets the tissue box down, no longer needing it; the tears have given way to a watery smile - unsteady, but genuine. "I'm planning on sticking around for a while yet."
"Good to know." Kame offers Jin a hand up, then thinks better of it. He starts to withdraw his hand, realises that would be rude, and freezes just short of where Jin could reach him.
"I'm not going to freak out if you help me up," Jin says, sounding a trifle exasperated. "If I...if I know you're there and I can see what you're doing, it's not so bad." He leans forward enough to grab Kame's hand, so Kame hauls him to his feet. "Just try not to start any more impromptu wrestling matches."
"Take it up with Koki - he's the one who tried to tickle you to death. And Ueda thinks you're pregnant."
"America didn't change me that much, thank you."
"You need to learn to look after yourself before you can think about looking after a kid, anyway," Kame says. He knows he's about to say something ludicrously mushy but it feels like it's okay to say that kind of thing when it's just the two of them hiding out in his bathroom, with Jin looking like he's just sat through back-to-back showings of Titanic and finished up with Bambi as an encore. "And when you can't look after yourself, we'll do it. I promise to throw myself in front of you if the audience gets grabby."
That makes Jin giggle. "How self-sacrificing of you."
Though it sounds like a joke, Kame's quite serious. "If you need space, you've got it, okay? We can give you that. But you're on your own with the hairdresser. Find yourself a chaperone or something."
"I think I can manage without." Jin leans heavily against the sink, fidgeting with the cuffs of his borrowed jacket. "Sorry I ruined your little get-together."
"I don't think it's completely unsalvageable. They're probably panicking out there by now, though."
"Maybe I should stay in here a while longer, let them ramp up the guilt?" Jin looks exhausted but there's a mischievous sparkle in his eye now; Kame's relieved to see it return.
"Or maybe you should both get out because I need to go," Ueda says as he opens the door. "Unless you'd prefer to stay and watch?"
Jin kicks him on the way out. Clearly some forms of touch are less traumatic than others.