fic: Driveway, April 4th (1/2)
Driveway, April 4th
Enjoying the ridiculously luxurious leather seats in his car as he make his way speeding on a deserted driveway somewhere behind god’s back in god-knows-where he couldn’t have cared less about his nose doesn’t detect the reek of burning rubber of his car’s wheezy tires.
“I was made for lovin’ you babe, you were made for lovin’ me,” he sings to the blasting music of the radio, tapping his fingers to the wheel in rhythm and rocking his body to the beat, completely lost in his own world. “And I can’t get enough of you babe, can you get enough of me?”
A ridiculous nostalgic song from a decade (or three, actually) back, a song so old he wasn’t even enjoying it in his dear mother’s womb when it was released, that fantastic little piece of music he remembers his mother still rocking to the early years of his childhood, throwing him that old, yellow dish brush and urging him to sing along. A piece that came from the radio the first time he uncorked his very first secret bottle of beer with his buddies in front of that downtown grocery shop - also the day he lighted up his first cigarette when getting something as ridiculous as lung cancer was certainly the least of his problems.
The night has already set as he lights up his cigarette, brushing his brown corkscrews behind his ear. He opens the window and blows smoke out of it, turning the volume up a bit and enjoying the taste of that horrid, god-awful nicotine and everything-but-fresh “air” if that’s even what you could really call it.
“Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do,” he goes along with the song, leaning to the window with his elbow, adjusting the mirror with lazy fingers. He whistles a little, wondering how long exactly it will still take him to get home - Tokyo, the city of 24/7 neon lights and drunken young men on motorcycles if he recalls right, the city his family moved into when he started the first grade of his school education. He steals a glance at the car’s digital clock with red lines constructing the numbers and reads almost half twelve p.m., cussing and rolling his eyes. It’s been a while and pissing his mother off by being so late wasn’t really a part of the original plan but seems to have stepped in as an unwanted factor anyway. He bites his lip as he speeds up even more.
“I was made for lovin’ you babe, you were -” he sings along with the radio but shock tightens his muscles ridding him of the capability of producing any sound as he perceives a figure caught in his headlights, hitting the breaks as fast as he can and turning the wheel, his cigarette flying out of the window without him even acknowledging its existence anymore.
As the radio still plays, for a fragment of a second he’s sure he’s a goner. The shock and rapid flow of the moment, adrenaline making its way through his veins and the horrible shriek of his tires making him sure that if he were to survive the possible crash to the woods lining the driveway he was without a doubt (in his current opinion, mind you) going deaf at least. Could one go deaf and hear still ringing in his ears? He wasn’t sure. But if the possibility existed, he was quite sure he would be blessed with it.
The car, however, never crashes but manages to stop after a ferocious slide with its front tires out of the driveway, almost mocking him and whispering ‘just ten centimetres and you would’ve crashed headfirst to the ditch and from there straight to the trees’. He lets out the breath he never noticed he was holding, unbuckles his seatbelt with violently trembling hands and stumbles out of the car, eyes wide like a deer’s whose been caught in the headlights. The music never ceases to play in the background but somehow the radio seems to malfunction - if it’s even possible that the stupid radio can make a radio channel play in loops, repeating the chorus of the song over and over again with a slightly distorted sound.
Speaking of headlights, he raises his gaze to find the figure of the person or whatever that scared the shit out of him and almost claimed his life in the scariest accident of his life as far as he can remember. His eyes detect a shaking figure ten-something metres ahead, arms wrapped around the lithe body with not more than an old-fashioned grey T-shirt with black printing, a vest that clearly was more of an accessory than a warmer and a pair of shredded jeans stuffed in brown boots, a couple of funny bracelets with wooden (some of them rainbow coloured too, he notices) beads. His hair is black and ruffled, eyes lined with dark eyeliner. Jin blinks his eyes, wrapping his own brown leather jacket on and jogging his way to the figure seemingly in some kind of a shock.
“You okay?” he yells as he makes his way to the person and stops before him. Seems unscratched he notices thankfully and lets out another breath he hasn’t noticed he was holding. Shame takes over him and he grabs his corkscrews in a tight grip, covering his mouth with his other hand.
“I’m so sorry,” he feels the need to apologize and bow, noticing his own body is shaking like a stupid leaf that the wind is trying to pull from a tree. “That was so reckless of me! I’m so sorry! But you’re okay, right? Right?”
“It’s okay,” the young man (or teen?) answers to him with a grin, waving him silent with his hand. His fingernails are painted black, Jin notices, and he has that certain kind of teasing gleam in his eyes even amidst the shock and tenseness. “I just suggest you learn to respect the speed limits. It’s a dangerous road. Pretty deserted, help doesn’t really arrive in a second or two. Maybe in a couple of hours. During the nights, maybe even five.”
“You seem to know this stuff,” Jin tries laughing, his voice still too strained for it to be relaxing. His heart seems to want to make its way through his chest with the painfully loud pulse and he clenches his jaw, scratching his nose uneasily.
“Hey, it’s alright,” the younger one assures him, tapping his shoulder, his balance still somewhat startled so that he ends up leaning for support for a while. Jin tries to help him by grabbing a hold of his arms supporting him from under his armpits. The young man’s breathing is heavy and as Jin takes a better look at the man’s face he swears the poor boy must be only somewhere around 17 or 18 years old.
“You alone here?” he asks the man worryingly as they let go of each other. The boy isn’t smiling anymore but nods, blinking for a few times almost as if he was slowly developing some kind of a headache.
“Yeah. Yeah, alone,” he confirms Jin’s expectation and lets out a breath almost trying to pull his lips into some form of a crooked smile, one you usually see in TV-series where a high school aged girl and boy meet each other and try to avoid each other’s eyes, blushing madly and changing cell phone numbers after the boy has picked up the books the girl has dropped on the floor in their collision. However, the situation they’re in is different and there isn’t in any ridiculous sense at all any kind of mad “love at first sight” between the two of them - only shock, rapid heartbeat and awkwardness caused by not running into each other but Jin almost killing both of them by speeding on the stupid driveway with his stupid car. Now that was something to be ashamed of, he grimaces and thanks the stupid Lord-whatever for giving mercy to the stupid poor individuals enjoying their youth (if he could anymore be considered a youth - at the age of almost 23 one was in such a difficult age to really be categorized for some silly “ages”) and being a bit too reckless than good taste would’ve appreciated.
“Got a cell phone?” Jin asks as he flips his own out of his pocket. “Want me to call someone? Or do you want a ride? If I can get the damn car out of the ditch and it wants to be nice enough to work, I mean,” he grins. This time the boy takes a better look at the car and purses his lips in a somehow amused way, his eyes narrowing in a more of a happy way as he eyes it with approval.
“Nice car,” he notes as he walks over to it, running his fingers on the metal. “Pretty neat.”
“…Yeah,” Jin answers as he walks over as well. “Not the best you can get but I’m investing. In a few years I’m hoping to put together money for something cooler. Maybe a Land Rover or Chevrolet or something.” The boy nods as he hops to sit on the trunk, reaching out his hand.
“Got a cigarette?” he asks, cocking his head so slightly it’s hardly perceivable. Jin shrugs.
“In the car if you want to,” he answers. And god, he realises, he’s really in need of one too. He wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand and closes his eyes, hoping a migraine won’t hit him when the adrenaline rush is over. He feels slightly drunk and doesn’t really think jumping straight back to the car and driving is such a good idea. “I can fetch a few if you want to.”
The boy nods and Jin makes his way slightly over the edge of the driveway, holding his position as he reaches into the car, praying for God the stupid vehicle doesn’t decide to start crashing down now and yank him with it as he rummages through the drawer and pulls out a cigarette box before making his way back to the boy and fishing the lighter from the pocket of his jacket and lighting up two, offering the other one to the young boy.
“So… what are you doing here all alone?” Jin asks after a moment of silence, blowing smoke out of his mouth, enjoying the feeling of emptying his lungs. “You don’t often see people randomly just walking on the streets in the middle of a forest with no vehicle in sight.”
“Got a ride. Flew out,” the boy answers, dribbling some of the ash from the edge of his cigarette to the ground. “It’s okay, though.”
“Mhm?” Jin mumbles, leaning forwards and taking support from his knees, looking at the dark depths of the forest. “It’s a long way to the city,” he notes. “I can drive you the rest of the way.”
“Nah,” the boy smirks at him. The cigarettes are calming them down and Jin can feel a certain kind of tranquillity taking over him. No one is hurt after all and the experience didn’t seem to prove to be all too fatal or anything. And it isn’t like this boy is going to raise charges on him either. At least for the moment it doesn’t seem so. He doesn’t fully believe it before a few months have passed with no unpleasant phone calls or letters though.
“I was made for lovin’ you babe, you were made for lovin’ me,” the boy starts singing to the looping music coming from the radio, waving his legs as he looks up at the sky. Jin smirks and joins him through the rest of the song.
“It’s a nice song,” the boy smirks at him, drawing more smoke in his lungs. And Jin believes his words - he does seem to be just the type whom the song could nicely bite in those vintage-looking denim jeans of his. He bites his lip and lets out a muffled laugh.
“It sure is,” he answers. “Not overrated or anything.”
The boy blows more smoke from his lungs, closing his eyes in progress and sighing deep. Jin can’t help but follow the outlines of his throat exposed by the arching motion he does with his neck, the nice curve of his Adam’s apple and funnily plump but thin lips. He wonders if he’s smoked a cigarette too much.
“Kame,” the boy says as he looks at him again, a warm smile on his lips. “My name.”
“Jin,” Jin decides to answer shortly as well. He wonders why he’s been given an obvious nickname - there’s no way a parent can seriously name their son a turtle, is there? But maybe it’s just because they’re collision is nothing too serious after all, not now that the fatal accident has been dodged. Just two guys meeting on the driveway and smoking a couple of cigarettes, listening to old rock song (or more like the ever-repeating chorus of it) and having a somewhat good time.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Jin still insists as the boy drops his burned cigarette to the ground and smashes it with his heel, raising his gaze to him, eyebrows arched.
“It’s okay,” he answers. “You go to the city often?”
“Why?” Jin laughs. “Are you planning on meeting up with me again? Making sure you won’t get hit by me or something?”
“April 4th,” the boy smirks, snatching Jin’s cell from his side and opening the calendar software. “Same time, same place. How would that sound? Wanna meet up?”
Jin can’t help his lips turning into a smirk as he looks at the boy. Life sure can be full of surprises, he concludes as he hops off the trunk as well, amazed that the car still hasn’t decided to go sliding down the ditch.
“Why so long?” he asks. “Aren’t you going to give me a number to accompany the date or anything?”
“I lost my cell,” the boy answers curtly and hands Jin back his cell phone with a warm smile. And Jin wonders how someone can look at him quite that way with quite that look in their eyes. And as ridiculous as it sounds even to himself, it sure feels like they’ve known each other forever or something.
The boy rises to his toes to give him a short peck on his lips, running his finger through his locks and smiling at him in that way. And even though with their age difference it feels so wrong and mischievous, he can’t help but enjoy the little thrill in it.
“I’ll help to get your car back on the road,” the boy offers and makes his way to the ditch. “Come on!”
Jin drops his cigarette, crushes it with his heel and follows the boy.
After the wandering boy has disappeared from his mirrors (short goodbyes and a somewhat mean “And you better not get into any accidents, okay?” said), the loop of the radio fixes and with an ear-wrenching shriek the radio seems to fix itself and the channel starts playing another song.
Oh well. At least he doesn’t have to pay any bills for a mechanic, he concludes absentmindedly.
--
A year later he’s cruising on the road again, enjoying the crispy night and music from his radio. I Was Made for Lovin’ You is coming out of the radio again, he notes in amusement as he drives slower, keeping his eye out for the person he’s come to meet up with, hoping the boy’s first impression of him now a year later won’t be the same “maniac trying to run over him” since it’d be ridiculously pathetic. He wonders if he’d have the guts to show his face to the boy ever again if it was to happen. It would be too much bad luck in one place, even for him.
The radio starts making distorted noises again and he frowns, eyeing it briefly and giving it a grumpy whack with his palm, hoping to get it running properly. The sound quality fixes up a bit but he notices that the music is looping again, as ridiculous as it is.
He hits the breaks when he gets his eyes back to the road and notices a figure sitting beside the road, legs bent as he seems to wait for something - or someone, Jin shakes himself mentally. All of sudden the power of his car dies with a tired sound sounding almost like a moan and the car slides to its rest. Jin frowns first and hops out, but smile makes its way to his face at the sight of the familiar face.
“Coming slower this year. That’s good,” Kame says at him, throwing a tiny rock him he had picked up beside him. Jin covers his face with his arms and feels the rock hitting his fingers before he cheerfully makes his way to the boy.
“The wreck shut down,” Jin notes and kicks his car. The lights turn on with a loud bang! and he stumbles back a few steps, the radio still playing. Stupid piece of garbage. It was starting to get embarrassing how it seemed to malfunction always when he ran into Kame - usually it worked just fine.
Maybe, he mocked himself with bad humour, Kame was some kind of radiating creature that made electronics malfunction at his presence.
Or maybe he had been watching too many horror movies with Pi and Ryo and let himself be brainwashed to such ridiculous ideas. More likely.
“Did you put on such familiar attire so that I could recognize you?” he asks the boy as he sits next to him. He doesn’t seem to have aged a day - but it wasn’t all too surprising, some people did seem to have the enviable ability to preserve young outlooks for a longer time. Kame sure seemed to be one of the kind as he smirked at him with that youthfully rebellious way of his, fixing up the helm of his shirt, giving Jin a nice glimpse of a skull belt. He would’ve adored one like that four-five something years back.
“Nostalgia,” the boy called Kame answers. “I guess you could call it nostalgia.”
“It sure is nostalgic,” Jin grins. “Missed me much?”
“In a year? Plenty,” Kame answers and lies down on the road.
Funny how things always felt to be in a delightful ease around Kame. Almost as if the time had stopped or like there was no one else in the world than the two of them as they spent time on a stupid road in the middle of woods and listened to the chorus of the ancient KISS song playing itself over and over again. Almost as if they were teenagers again - not that Kame wasn’t one, Jin grimaced to himself. His company made him feel younger though. It was a nice feeling.
“You, in another hand, seem to have changed quite a lot,” Kame notes as he reaches out his hand to twirl some of Jin’s brown locks around his index finger. “No more corkscrews?” he smirks at him. “Oww, they were quite nice.”
Jin glares at him and slaps his hand away. “That was a whim. And it looks better straight anyway.”
“So you straighten it?” Kame asks him. “Wow, you’re such a hair-freak, aren’t you?” he mocks and Jin kicks him gently to his side, making him laugh as he tries to curl himself up in order to protect himself.
“I wonder what it will look next year,” Kame wonders, eyeing him absentmindedly. Jin feels a smile spreading on his face as he listens to the words - it feels like they’re building a funny little relationship there. A little secret for only them to share. Quite thrilling.
“What would you want it to look like?” Jin asks, moving to sit closer to Kame who’s still lying on the ground, looking at him with a gaze that almost stirs up something in him. The kid seemed to have things in his mind he wasn’t sharing with him, but it was okay. It wasn’t like they knew each other all too well anyway.
“Whatever,” Kame answers him, sitting up and rolling somehow on his lap, poking his nose in a playful manner. Jin smirks at him and pecks his lips again. He isn’t quite sure if he has the right to or if the previous time was just some kind of stupid whim but he goes with it anyway. Kame thankfully doesn’t seem to mind. He places his hands on the young boy’s hips and murmurs mischievously.
He feels Kame’s breath on his face as he slides his arms around his neck, moving closer to kiss him on the lips a bit more intimately than they have before. He loses himself in the nearly-midnight “secret lover” game he feels like he’s dreaming about and kisses the boy like a stupid little teenager some years back while listening to the catchy phrase I was made for lovin’ you babe, you were made for lovin’ me.
“What are you, you little rebel,” he teases Kame with their lips still brushing against one other, breathing mixed and heartbeat upbeat. “Charming old, vulnerable men and meeting up for some make out sessions in the middle of the night?”
“You’re not old,” Kame smirks at him. “No grey hair, is there? Or have I looked wrong?”
“Nope,” Jin answers, leaning his back against the car and its tire. He decides to take it as a compliment even though he isn’t actually quite sure whether it is or not. Kame was just difficult to figure out that way, he guessed. “Still older. Are you in for older or something like that? How old are you?”
Kame unwraps his arms from around his neck and shrugs, sitting up better at a slight distance, still on his lap. “I guess you could say I’m in for a bit older, I guess. Not that you’d be any more mature than me, though. I’d differ.”
Jin frowns, slightly hurt by the mock most of people seemed to be making of him, even this almost-a-stranger adolescent. “I’m mature enough.”
Kame doesn’t bother answering but just laughs. Jin can’t help but ruffle his dark hair. It seems to be hard to get seriously upset in the charming boy’s presence. Maybe it was some sort of electronic magnetism. He sure felt weirdly overwhelmed around him. He felt sort of lost in a limbo - kind of like the stupid loop of the car radio that grew almost annoying. Thank god they both liked the song. Otherwise it could’ve been seriously pissing.
Kame gets up on his feet and jumps on the car hood, making the whole car lopsided forwards slightly. A grimace spreads on Jin’s face but he decides to remain silent as the boy presses his palm on the window, caressing and knocking it in a weird manner.
“What are you doing?” he asks as he hops to sit on the hood as well, joining the other and trying to figure him out without succeeding. Kame’s smile seems somewhat distant as he slides his hand slowly down the cool glass. Jin wonders if he feels cold in the cool spring night. Jin tries to change his tactic into a playful and daring smirk. “Knocking to see if it’s solid? You know it is. Just glass, not anything fancy like bomb or bullet proof glass, just normal. So try not to knock too hard.”
“…I’ve flown through a car’s window,” Kame tells him absentmindedly. Jin blinks. “The front one. Passenger seat.”
“…Me too,” Jin answers and Kame turns his gaze into him. Jin can’t read what his eyes are looking for as he faces him with eyes that sometimes seemed to know a bit too much for some reason. “Although it wasn’t a passenger seat, it was the driver. This road, 2004 I think. Quite a crash, I heard,” he told, biting his lower lip. “Smashed my car. And my head. Can’t remember it. I’m actually quite happy I can’t. Not too interested in the memory.”
Kame nods, a small smile on his lips. For a while they sit in silence and then Kame smirks at him all full of energy again and jumps off the hood, pulling Jin with him.
“Let’s get in the car! Come on!” he calls out for him, jumping to the passenger seat. Jin blinks and follows him, trying to turn down the blasting radio but failing. He frowns apologetically at Kame.
“Sorry about that,” he grimaces at the younger boy who just laughs and opens the drawer on his side, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and winking at Jin, throwing him one and grabbing one for himself.
The night feels intoxicated as they sit in the car. Listening to the music and singing along. Kame has such a nice voice, he notes, and he sure seems to have charisma as well as they rock on the front seats, having their very own private party and smoking cigarettes. Laughter sounds amazing and the ruckus they make up echoes from the woods. And maybe for some time they are the centre of the world. Even if it’s just for a while.
They make out in the car and Jin feels a rush he doesn’t remember quite experiencing with anyone else before. Kame has a habit of laughing every now and then and really challenging him and the whole make out feels somehow like a daring challenge and a competition. Kame’s panting after the kisses and ruffled hair make him feel young and playful like a reckless adolescent.
“You know what?” Kame laughs at him as they pull apart again and Jin wipes saliva from his chin. “Next time bring some alcohol along.”
“I’ll put that behind my ear,” Jin agrees. “Beer okay? Or do you want something stronger?”
“You could always bring both,” Kame notes, pulling him from his collar to yet another sweet and daring kiss. “The more the merrier. Not company wise, mind you.”
“Yeah,” Jin agrees with a breathless laughter. “This is our little secret, isn’t it? This whole thing.”
Kame’s eyes flash for a brief moment and Jin wonders if he said something wrong. However, soon after the boy smiles again and pinches his ear, making him yelp and pull further away in panic. Kame’s laughter returns.
“Next time…” he speaks slowly as he looks out of the front window again, eyes lost somewhere in space as he stares into its depths, “…will you remember me?”
“Sure thing,” Jin answers with a smirk, grabbing a gentle hold of his chin and pulling his face closer, singing with a low and quiet voice with the rhythm: “I was made for lovin’ you babe, you were made for lovin’ me.”
“And I can’t get enough of you babe, can you get enough of me?” Kame answers silently, brushing his cheekbone with his thumb and placing another kiss on his lips. Jin leans more forward, trying to deepen the kiss but Kame opens the car’s door and steps out, making him almost fall over to the passenger seat. He jumps out of the car quickly again as well.
“Are you going?” he asks the boy breathlessly. “Don’t I get anything more this time? The phone number? Full name? Address? E-mail?” he insists but knows the answer even before Kame fully answers as he smiles at him gently and apologetically.
“I lost my phone,” he tells him. “I can’t find it.”
“Again?” he sighs. “Still, anything else? Anything.”
Kame shakes his head. “…Remember me, will you?”
“I’ll put you in my calendar,” Jin smirks at the younger boy. “There’s no way I can forget. It’d be impossible to forget about you.”
Kame’s smile is crooked as he pecks Jin’s lips again, patting his shoulder. “See you in a year then.”
“You don’t need a ride to the city?” he asks the boy who just waves him off. Jin takes his jacket off and offers it to the boy. “Aren’t you cold? Want my jacket?”
“I’m fine,” Kame insist. “Now shoo. Go. And drive safely, will you? No speeding or stupid stunts. Keep your eyes on the road.”
“I will,” Jin laughs and blinks. “Oh yeah, but my car’s broken…”
Kame looks at him with an inquiring expression, eyes slightly narrowed and head lopsided. Jin stares back at him. Kame shrugs.
“I thought it was just fine. If the radio doesn’t count,” he says and glances at the car. Jin feels dumbfounded.
“It shut down. Wait, I’ll show you,” he tells the boy and gets in the car, turning the car key.
The motor kicks in. He blinks. Kame laughs and smirks knowingly from the wayside.
“Told you!” he yells and waves. Jin pouts and leans out of the window, showing Kame the finger as he listens to the boy’s way-too-amused laughter. Still it stirs some warm feeling in him. And he knows that there’s something the two of them share, something very odd but amazing nonetheless. Maybe they were soul mates, he thinks as he smirks at Kame. Some strong bond they shared and serious affection and intoxication.
“Drive safely!” Kame yells after him when he heads off. He honks the horn twice as an answer as he drives off, lost staring in the mirror, stealing the very last glances of the beautiful boy who wraps his arms around himself in a lonely and somewhat cold manner. And the look on his face looks as if he was missing him already.
And he misses Kame too already, he realises as he stares at the digital clock, reading the time: 3.23 a.m. Funny how time flew. He could’ve stayed for longer though.
The radio makes a pissed, shrieking sound again and he whimpers as the song changes again. Confusing.
Maybe Kame did mess up with electronics, he thinks in amusement as he continues his way towards the city. As ridiculous as it sounds.
Or maybe his car was just as much in love with Kame as he was.
He laughs at the thought and enjoys more popish songs.
--
PART 2