Johnny Rocker - RocknRolla 3/4
Jin Akanishi, supposedly dead, now exists at the back of the karaoke bar owned by a friend, shanghaiing the last room, his stuff scattered about, middle glass table cleared but for a crate of cigarettes and a bunch of drug paraphernalia. His guitar is a bit scratched, but still the most expensive thing in the room. And there, still on the floor is the missing fedora, tossed carelessly aside.
Ru observes this from his spot curled up in the corner of the room’s soft cotton and foam covered bench. Jin is practically wrapped around him-heavy weight and wiry muscles--covered in Ru’s coat, halted breaths, shaking out of him restlessly. Last night had been a trade-off of mind games. Jin, completely doped up, had looked at Ru like he was a distant miracle, laughing at him with new forms of half-lyrics, half-musings. The same as it had been all these years since he’d left to take his dream. He was a mess, but his mind was really not, wide eyes smiling with delight, but mutters of broad stretches of nonsense and Ru couldn’t get a single straight answer from him. Still, one thing remained quite clear: Jin was not going to let go of his fedora for anything.
So now, nearly eight in the morning, sleepless, Ru is thinking of secrecy. He’s found Jin, found the fedora, but the euphoria of having him here-- too thin, aimless, but still so beautiful--makes him feel a certain possession. He has to leave, has to report to Sho, but he fears that if he looks away, lets go for even a moment, Jin will disappear again. The world outside still buzzes around them, though, and Ru knows he is compromising himself even more by remaining here.
He shifts to get up and Jin stirs, locking feverishly glittered eyes up at him.
“Obamaru,” he says with affection, clutching tighter and Ru feels his reservations collapse, but he pushes at Jin’s arms, disentangling himself gently. It’s surprising when Jin rolls away, spreading himself along the couch, eyes still shut. After a silent, breathless moment, he rises, stretching. A new species as his messy brown hair falls over his face and his rock-hard shoulders roll with flexing musculature, still so painfully thin, and Ru sits up.
“Jin,” Ru says. “I need to take that fedora back or I’m a dead man.”
They’d had this conversation the night before, but at that time, Jin still kept his music blaring had only replied. “If you use the whipped cream charger tonight we can talk about the inner workings of that machine in front there. That’s eight grams of intelligent conversation, wouldn’t that be fun?”
Now, a bit more lucid, Jin’s voice comes out hoarse, like a low groan, only lazier. “Nakamaru,” he says dragging out the word as he reaches for his cigarettes. “The hat stays. And if you’re a dead man you can come stay with me. We’ll both be dead together.”
Ru sighs. “Why are you doing this, Jin?” He gets up and pulls at his coat, slipping it over his own shoulders, suddenly cold.
“I want you to think numbers, Ru,” says Jin, flopping back down on the couch, arms spread over the back, as the smouldering death stick in his mouth glows orange with each of Jin’s breaths. “Big numbers that increase with each day.”
Ru stares down at him, wordless.
His eyes look like pools of deep massacres. “CD sales, OK? They rocket up when a star dies. I’m a legend and everyone’s buying my album, so take that to your geniuses up in Toudai because I’ve created something from nothing.” He hums, pulling his cigarette out to point it playfully at Ru, round mouth curled up in a secretive grin. “Numbers, Ru.”
“You’re doing this for the royalties?”
“Art, Ru. I’m spreading it like peanut butter so people buy it and it gets them.” He looks off somewhere, chewing his pretty pink lips. “That’s what art does to you, Ru; it gets you.”
“Right,” Ru replies promptly. “All the same, I need to go, but I’ll come back. You…won’t go anywhere.” He meant it as a question, but it had come out as a flat statement, caught between an order and a place where inflection just doesn’t exist.
Jin’s mouth falls open, mock surprise, eyes laughing. “Am I the meteorite fleck in your morning tea, Ru?”
Ru shuts his eyes. “Just stay here,” he orders. “I’ll be back tonight.” He steps around the table and glances once more at the discarded fedora, utterly divided, before he leaves the room.
When Joker gets to their building that mid-morning, showered, but still tired, he walks in hesitantly. Long’s trial had been early morning around nine, and he’d stumbled in his door this morning around three, drained and glowing, but feeling like the world was rolling apart in sharp cascades every time he so much as gave it thought. He barely slept, though his muscles ached, and their conversations and Junno’s scent still lingered in the air around him as he lay awake.
He imagines Long must be behind bars now, looking out with those big black eyes at the eight by ten stone surrounding him. Joker feels his insides twist all over again.
Romes looks up from working his punching bag, eyes sliding toward Joker in an enigmatic way as he enters. “So I did a payment on the building like you said and we’re expecting an order on equipment for your recording studio. Your asshole computer wasn’t working so I had to ask this librarian and she says we can do the renovations ourselves, but we’re both way too lazy and Long’s not here so we can’t make him do all the work…”
Joker can’t really make words at the moment and he knows his computer’s probably broken now so he ignores Romes as he reaches for the coffee the other man had obviously brought in. He notices the three cups and just feels all the more awful that as much as Romes is going to act like Long’s sentence doesn’t bother him, it’ll take him months before he can stop bringing in that extra coffee cup.
“Speaking of which,” Romes begins, tone a bit more steely now. “You skipped his trial, you bastard; everyone was there. You’re a heartless asshole. Even Nino and Ohno came.”
Joker, a little broadsided, shoots a guarded look at him.
Romes’ mouth twitches. “As a matter of fact, I get the feeling the only person Long wanted to see there was you”
Gloves are off and Joker bristles. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Romes pushes his punching bag aside and reaches for his towel nonchalantly. “Oh, come on, everyone knows how much you loved Long,” he drawls.
Joker stares at him, fists curling. “You better fucking tell me what you’re getting at, Romeo…”
Romes straightens, and his eyes are mocking like he fucking knows and he folds his arms and laughs. Joker’s just about to cross the room and split the other man’s jaw if he can manage when a pair of arms lock around him from behind and the scent he spent all night trying to preserve in memory is clouding around him as a laugh tickles in his ear.
“Guess who!” he’s saying.
Joker freezes.
“The DA lost the paperwork and they let me off. Case is closed!” Long exclaims from behind him as he lets him go.
Romes laughs all the more at what must be an entertaining expression on Joker’s face. And then Long is laughing too and he doesn’t know what this sick feeling in his lower belly is, but he raises his hand to his face, a shuddering breath escaping him.
“Five years…” he whispers, breaths like choking gasps. He turns and gets an eyeful of Long looking at him warmly, quite tangible and never going away. Romes stops laughing and his eyes flicker between the two of them with invested curiosity.
Long gives him a confused look, smile fading. Their phone rings.
“You were supposed to be in fucking…” he trails off, backing away from the both of them. He runs his hands through his hair as he goes for the phone, and he knows he’s trembling. “Hello?” he says, turning his back on the other two.
“Hi, Koki?” Ru sounds once again quite harried and Joker wonders what is really happening on his end. “So I hear the DA lost some paperwork,” he states, seemingly unable to keep the smug from his tone.
“Yeah…” Joker frowns. “I thought you said Sho-san couldn’t help us.”
Ru clears his throat. “He couldn’t, so I did something I wasn’t supposed to, which brings me to my main concern at the moment. The money I used on the DA and prosecution needs to be paid back to Sho’s accounts before he notices; you still have that money?”
Joker pauses. “Well, see, Ru,” he begins slowly. “We thought there wasn’t going to be a need for it so we made a lump-sum payment on our renovations, bills, and whatnot. We’ve only got one mill left.”
“Fuck,” he hears Ru spit vehemently as the phone goes fuzzy for a moment. “Ah, Koki; tell me you’re joking.”
“I’ve had enough jokes for a year, to be honest,” Joker mutters, glancing at the duo now preoccupied with their coffee. “I’m sorry, Ru. I can give you the mill if it’d cover some of it, but other than that, we’ll be back to relying on profits from Romeo’s betting.”
He hears just a silence fraught with anxiety. “I…really hate to place this on you, Koki, but…that money is just one of two things I need to have or I’ll be a corpse swimming in Tokyo Bay by the end of this week.”
Joker swallows. “Ok, look; that’s not-I won’t let that happen. We’ll find the money somehow and get it to you real quick. Just buy yourself some days. It’ll be all right, Ru.”
Another pause, this time heavier. “Yeah,” Ru says absently, voice hoarse and distant. “Yeah, all right. Just…do what you can, OK?”
“We will get you that money, Yucchi,” he states heatedly.
Ru makes a noncommittal sound before he hangs up and even the click sounds like something devoid of life. Joker holds the receiver for a still moment, caught in that waking horror. Just when things are sort of starting to be all right. He considers how he’s going to explain this to Long and Romes.
He hasn’t placed the receiver down for more than two seconds before it rings again.
Silence before, “How did it go? Is Taguchi all right?”
“Oh, Kazu...yeah I wanted to thank you after yesterday, but your phone’s been off. The building’s going to be renovated and Romeo’s called in for equipment so we can put up a recording studio here.” He says it woodenly because he isn’t sure how to breech the next question. “Still, something went wrong and I was wondering if you somehow had another-I don’t want to compromise you anymore, and you know I wouldn’t ask unless it was important…” he trails off, feeling like a tool.
“No…there is some work, but I need to see you,” she says softly.
Joker pauses. “OK…”
“Do you have any friends with, you know,” she sounds uncomfortable. “Uchi is interested in throwing a Johnny Rocker-themed party and it’s all very silly, but could you come with any friends who might have Quaaludes?”
“Ah, yeah, I think I might know someone. I’ll also come with Ueda …” he pauses before he says Taguchi. Maybe Long should stay home. And he’s glaring for some reason so his next tone is gruff. “Yeah, so just Ueda and a few friends!”
He only feels embarrassed after Kazu hangs up.
Naturally, Sho is in his office when Ru gets there around ten. The curtains are shut and his desk is bare, and he’s pensively making his way to the bottom of an Alize bottle, a tall full glass in hand and his feet propped up. “Hullo, Ru,” he says with some gravity.
“Sho…” he begins cautiously. “It’s not even midday yet.”
“We’re dead, you know that, right?”
Ru says nothing.
“Yamashita asked me for his fedora back early this morning even though the deal isn’t done; the money hasn’t come and I’m sitting here thinking of how the hell we’re going to stall for time. Even in death, that kid brings me nothing but pain. Jin Akanishi. You know they hold candlelight vigils for him, every night, outside my doors.” His wrist presses against his forehead, cheeks red and breaths like breaking reality waves.
Ru doesn’t trust himself to reply, so he silently crosses the room to where Sho sits. He rounds the desk and picks up the bottle and pries the glass from Sho’s grasp. He tries not to look him in the eye as he sets the glass and bottle aside.
Sho is looking up at him already bleary. “We’re dead,” he mutters again. As Ru helps to prop him up, pushing his legs down off the desk and hiking him up underarm, Sho grabs ahold of his coat and his swallows are thick. Ru only sighs as he leads him to the couch nearby, pushing aside the mess of newspapers as Sho tumbles backward, landing vulnerable, unsuppressed, but unaware. The other man’s eyes shut, cherubic features at a feverish rest.
It’s when Ru makes a move to go, that a hand closes on the bottom hem of his jacket, fingers curled into the fabric. “You find that hat for me, OK?” he mutters. “I know if it’s you, you’re gonna come through.”
Ru doesn’t look back at him.
“I’m…hopeless without you, you know that?”
It’s ironic, this drunken confession, because as much as it might have shaken him a week ago, now it is like cold flames. He thinks of Jin, sprawled out exactly the same like this on the couch back in Ni-chome and he can’t even find that part of him that gives a damn anymore. Jin, being alive, bringing back with him all the memories of special moments, music, and fantasy has engulfed Ru’s sensibilities. He’s going back to him.
“Get some rest, Sho,” he murmurs and only moves when Sho’s grasp drops away.
He sees the desk is bare because Sho has flung his papers and folders to the floor and envelopes lay open and discarded. Ru, as an afterthought, goes to gather them together. It’s when he’s slipping a cheque back into an envelope that he spots the name. Nanashi Namae written in bold script across the first line. He stares down at it for a still moment, unsure of what it could mean. He doesn’t feel a hundred percent as he hadn’t slept the night before. With some resolve, he pockets the labelled envelope to work out later.
He’s going to see Jin again anyway; integrity isn’t what he’s going for anymore.
“You’re wearing a suit, Nino?” Romes queries, eyeing Nino’s velvet dark purple sport coat and matching trousers. He almost looks clean, if one felt like just using the word facetiously.
They’re standing outside the Uchi townhouse door-- four of them-- Romeo, Joker, Nino, and Ohno and the bass is shaking just the front step alone.
Nino looks smug. “Yeah. Happened to get a good sum from a generous donor; bought this suit and Oh-chan a brand new fishing rod. We’re going on holiday after this...”
The door opens before anyone else can get in a word and a man in a tuxedo without pants stands looking up at them. Behind him, there’s a smattering of people with drinks and Joker’s mouth falls open as he spots the unmistakeable Tegoshi who is scampering across the front hall in only a bow-tie, shorts, and a pair of bunny ears.
“Oh my god,” Romeo mutters, but he’s smiling with clear amusement.
Nino barges to the front, holding Ohno by the belt. “My kind of party,” he announces, brushing past the doorman.
Romeo and Joker exchange glances before they follow.
The sitting room is full to capacity and the Uchi townhouse seems quite small and Joker keeps looking elsewhere whenever Tegoshi comes running by, giggling madly. Romeo stands near him until, with a grin, he hits Joker on the back. “Would you look at the girls they’ve got here.” And then he vanishes.
Joker grabs a bottle of corona from the cooler, uneasy as he looks around for Kazu. It’s just then that he locks eyes with a smiling, elated black-eyed stare. Long is looking at him, though he’s clearly half-engaged with one of the many scantily-clad women. Outraged, Joker crosses the room to him.
“Excuse me,” he says to the girl, all but pushing her aside and Long’s smile is full of unharnessed mirth.
“Hey, you,” Long says warmly and Joker looks around for anyone he knows before pushing Long into the hallway behind the entrance. People pass, but Joker keeps his back to them, practically tucking them in an alcove.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demands.
Long looks at him, head tilted, surveying. “I thought I was supposed to be in jail tonight, so I didn’t make any plans, you?”
“I was invited, you tool!”
“So was I…by Romeo.”
Joker claps his hand to his face. “God dammit, Romes,” he sighs and Long lets out something a bit like a titter and Joker’s shoulders tense. “You listen to me, OK? What happened between you and I last night… that’s our secret.” Long’s smile widens-probably at the memory -- and Joker shuts his eyes, but keeps talking. “It only happened because you were supposed to be locked up in prison tonight.”
Long’s smile turns a bit grim, but he nods, looking somewhere past Joker’s head.
“So if you so much as tell a soul-“
“Koki?”
Joker freezes and his eyes meet Long’s before he turns. Kazu stands there, Virginia slim on a quellazaire in one hand, looking at the two of them with some puzzlement.
“Taguchi,” she finally says with a hesitant smile
“Kazuya!” Long brushes past Joker and without warning just scoops Kazu up in a warm hug and Joker watches a little uneasily as she laughs, pushing him away with some embarrassment. She turns to smile at Koki and that’s the happiest he’s seen her.
“How’ve you been?” he asks, shooting a quick and deadly look at Long, who stares back at him serenely.
“I think we shouldn’t talk out in the open here,” she replies, arm still locked in Long’s brightly affectionate hold. She withdraws. “Come, we’ll talk in the kitchen.”
Long doesn’t move as Joker follows her. He glances back and Long’s gaze is steady like last night, staring holes into Joker, Long is silently claiming something Joker didn’t know he could give. He may have failed to breathe just then and Kazu sends him a glance, calculating and a little unsure.
“I feel as though we’re seeing a lot more of each other,” she remarks as Joker closes the door behind them.
“A lot more than before, yeah,” he murmurs, looking at her properly under the lights of the bare kitchen. “And you’re all right?”
“Better than before,” she returns, and leans back against the counter, a body of careful construction speaking to him of warmth and the way his life is meant to remain complicated as it is. “So the job. It’s the same time, same place, but the security’s going to be tighter.”
“Thugs?”
“Maybe. I know they’ll be armed. And listen, it’s not money I want to be stealing, but it’s you guys…” She looks over at the door, pensive again.
Joker hikes himself up on the counter, watching the stress in her frame curve upward. “If you don’t want us to do this, we can find another way…” he begins slowly.
She smiles, shaking her head. “That isn’t what I’m worried about. You see, it isn’t a theft. He doesn’t want these withdrawals to appear in his tax records so I’ve made it as though he isn’t withdrawing a thing. I intend to go into his credit records and age them by seven years as if the withdrawal is an unpaid debt to which where it’ll vanish according to the Fair Credit Reporting Act.”
“Wait, whose money is this anyway?”
She averts her gaze, bringing her cigarette to her lips, arm folded across her stomach. “Yamashita Tomohisa’s, while technically it’s not his, because it’s a credit withdrawal. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”
“Kazu…” he breathes. “You’re amazing.”
She flicks a dark look at him. “I’ll take care of you guys as long as you’ll let me. If anything…” The glare from the lights makes her look a little pale and the smoke from her quellazaire curls close to her lips as she holds it absently near. “…it makes me feel like I’m still your ‘K’.”
Joker slips down and begins to walk toward her, but she holds her hand up, the waves of her brown hair curl up as she shakes her head. “I know,” she says simply and smiles. “I only needed that inexplicable hug from Taguchi to remind me how that’s still the case.”
Joker grimaces, but a relief shakes through him. She sounds so much happier.
“Yamapi asked me to marry him,” she states and shoots him a brief guarded glance.
Joker stares.
“And I’m going to say yes. Uchi and I have talked and as much as we’ve been good friends and he’s taken care of me…we’re not in love. This,” she makes a small indicative gesture at the party still buzzing outside the door. “This is our divorce party. Only a flamboyant man like Hiro would want to turn something as distasteful as a divorce into a gathering of debauchery. I imagine you’ve seen Tegoshi as well?”
“Wait…” he starts, ignoring her laugh.
The quellazaire goes to her lips as she watches him a little side-long, curiously. “You’re meant to congratulate a newly engaged woman, Koki.”
It certainly takes him back to when they were young and she was just pretty Kame, vulnerable and angular all the same. Now she’s beautiful and still just as decisive. “Con…congrats,” he says finally.
She nods approvingly, still looking at him. “I want you to be happy too, all right? Whatever you need that money for, use it and for the sake of what KAT-TUN was, make the other four happy as well.”
He feels better, if not a little blindsided, but he’s able to smile.
Kazu straightens and walks toward him, arms slipping about his neck as her narrow eyes squint with a bit of watery look. She presses her lips to his cheek. “Taguchi’s a sweet guy, isn’t he?” she whispers.
Joker squirms out of her hold and glares. “Ka~me,” he groans out of old habit and she heads toward the door, her impressive heels clicking against the tiles of the kitchen.
She pauses, arm on the door’s handle. “You know, sometimes those tabloids have some pretty good ideas. I’ve talked Yamapi into putting his business to rest for a bit to take a holiday with me…think it’d be nice for Kamenashi Kazu to run away to Europe with her lover…or is that too much?”
Joker shrugs, swallowing something bittersweet. “I…think it’d suit you.”
Her laughter then is golden with more than just delight. “I think so too.”
He meets back up with Romes who is leaning against the front stair banister, eyeing something across the room. Joker follows his gaze and spots Long sitting extremely close to a man on a small sofa. He squints and realises it’s Uchi, shyly sneaking an arm over Long’s shoulders.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Joker snaps.
Romeo glances at him languidly. “What?”
“Long, over there, he’s… practically in Uchi’s lap…”
Romes takes yet another opportunity to laugh at him. “Uchi, currently fetishizing the idea of the Johnny Rocker-to which I told him Long Johnny would be a perfect specimen-- happens to have access to info on who might be going to the court with info about our dealings.”
Romes falls silent as they continue to watch. Long leans over and whispers something in Uchi’s ear and the other man grasps at Long’s t-shirt a little suddenly and Joker’s jaw starts to hurt.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d do anything to find out who put me behind bars two years ago, but he wouldn’t tell me a thing until I introduced him to an ‘an attractive Johnny Rocker like Long…” Romeo reaches over and pulls a full shot glass off a passing server’s tray. He downs it bitterly.
Joker would be amused at the venom in Romeo’s tone, but he’s been watching Long and for fuck’s sake the man already likes him so there can’t be any point to running his hand along his thigh. His head hurts and he’s sick of this party. “Look, we’ve got another job, so we’ll be at it tomorrow.”
Romes turns. “Is it wrong for me to assume that someone here gave you that information?”
Joker frowns. “It’s not wrong, and I’m not telling you still.”
Romeo rolls his eyes but as he does that he appears to make eye contact with a passing female hired bunny. She looks back at him as she passes and Romes glances back at Joker. “Meet me at my place in the morning so you can tell me even less then.” He mutters with an edge of sarcasm. “I’ve got something to take care of.”
Joker watches him tail his bunny girl for a silent, exasperated moment before he glances back at Long and Uchi. Finding he doesn’t much care to look at that either, he turns for the door, catching sight-only as he’s exiting- of Nino and Ohno, center of a room, entertaining and handing out their gear.
Joker never much liked parties anyway.
Something smells like permanent marker and Ru is immediately eighty percent convinced that this is what wakes him up. He’s forgotten where he is so the fluorescent lights swinging around the room startle him as his eyes open.
“Dammit!” comes a moan. “You messed up the last part of the kanji!”
He squints a bit groggily at the blob kneeling right beside his head. He pushes his coat, flung over him, aside as he tries to sit up. It’s Jin and he’s pushing him back down, alarmingly strong palm flat on his chest. Ru notices his shirt buttons are undone and then subsequently notices the words and characters littering him from his stomach up. “What…what are you doing?”
Jin leans back on his heels, chocolate brown eyebrows curved in. “I’m improving the quality of your skin. How many more fans would you have if you had the words, ‘Akanishi Jin’ on the tip of your nose.” He says with ill-concealed amusement. He holds up a pencil. “I couldn’t write on you with this, so I used something permanent.”
“What on earth…”
Jin tucks the pencil behind his ear, and he reaches to his mouth and pulls out a stretch of pink, gleaming bubblegum, thoughtfully twisting it around his finger. By the look in his eyes and the metal tools sitting on the table, Jin’s just taken a few rails and he’s doped up proper.
Ru groans, pushing Jin back and away as he gets up to look in the dark TV screen to make out his reflection. It doesn’t help much, but he can see the black on his nose. Sighing, he sticks his sleeve in his mouth and then rubs vigorously at the black, hoping it comes off.
“Stop~!” Jin cries, half-giggling, crawling toward him. “Your resale value…”
“I’m not an idol anymore, Jin, and nor are you,” he replies patiently. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep. He remembers coming straight here after leaving Sho and he doesn’t recall saying a word to Jin. He must’ve dropped at the door if anything.
He turns and Jin is upright, seated on the floor, his hair a complete mess. Ru crosses the room back over to him and kneels. “Jin, you’ve got to get cleaned up. If you could see yourself,” he murmurs and without thinking he reaches up, twisting his fingers into Jin’s hair, pulling it back and upwards. Jin leans forward, forehead resting against Ru’s chest as Ru finger-combs through his hair.
“Gimme your wrist,” Ru orders and Jin holds his arm up compliantly as Ru slips the hemp bracelet off over his hand. Carefully, trying not to tug too hard, he twists the string in until Jin’s hair is up out of his face. He accidentally snags some of the hairs against his shirt sleeve button.
“Nngh,” Jin says, and it’s an odd sound so Ru glances down. He meets hard raw dark eyes gazing up at him, pupils wide like pools.
His fingers are still caught up in Jin’s hair and he smiles a little as he tugs and Jin’s eyes shut, dark lashes fringe soon wet when Ru, curiously, pulls a little harder. Jin’s hands come up against his torso, sliding along the bare skin under his open shirt and that changes everything.
It’s like a touch caught between a careful maybe and a perfect finally. Jin’s eyes are diamond glitters under his long eyelashes and his lips are dry, but he brushes like thin paper against Ru’s lips. Their kiss is just bites catching, whimpers and lazy moans, wrapping sweaty up against Ru. He knows he isn’t clearheaded himself, but aside from the realities of death and disappearance and change, this, just starting to writhe in his hands, will always be the same and perfectly alive.
It’s as Jin shifts onto his lap-- jeans scraping up against Ru’s own expensive trousers-- that it occurs to him. “Am I dreaming when I come in here?” he asks it aloud, completely lost in sensation and want.
“Am I like this in your dreams?” Jin asks before rolling his hips up against Ru’s lap.
It’s against the floor leaned up on the bottom of the sofa, and Jin-- all tastes of bubblegum, scents of hotel soap and a musky deep scent that is only natural-- rides against him almost instantly hard, clutching at Ru like a handlebar on sobriety. Ru touches him without shame, watching as the invincible crack high rocketing in Jin’s blood, makes him curve forward; hot lips coming to rest on Ru’s collarbone and he sucks right there-just right like he’s inhaling Ru’s skin-letting out a low, languid groan as Ru pulls his zipper down, bringing him out; hard and pliant in his hand. His thin body shudders as Ru curls his fist, squeezing him.
Ru leans back to watch Jin and he’s flush, eyes shut, feeling the high and the rising erotic blood, pressing his palms back, fingers curled around Ru’s legs, helpless rocking and free like he’s out, riding mere intensity and beauty. Ru is awestruck at the sight as he keeps his rhythm, tugging Jin off and the sounds he makes-fuck-so much more lovely and reeling with a melody that’s desperate, small and breaking, sobs of release with his hips hankering up and down, restless convulsions up into Ru’s hand.
“Look at me, Jin,” Ru says, and just from watching Jin move over him, undulating in waves of wanton ecstasy, he wants his attention.
Jin, eyes still glittering and pale and doped insane, leans his head forward to look at Ru and still he breathes in desperate gasps, biting his lips with each slide of Ru’s fist. In a fluid motion he slides forward, reaching for Ru’s belt buckle, lips parted as he unsheathes the leather and Ru’s motions cease as they manoeuvre closer and Jin’s fist slides over his own as he presses both of them together. Ru fights to keep his eyes open to watch Jin who closes his hand around them, fingers scrambling at Ru’s fist.
“Tighter,” is all Jin says and his voice is caught in that high as they both in tandem run their hands back and forth, a simultaneous pattern of strokes and Ru bends his head forward as the heat floods his stomach. And when Jin leans forward, muttering half-phrases and stilted breaths, their lips touch and Ru opens his mouth against Jin’s tongue, slipping clear and hot over his, tastes of the same bubblegum fruits and something newly bitter like the weak flavour of a cigarette an hour ago.
Just the shameless feel of Jin burying himself in his neck, mouth open, gasps shuddering out of him as he comes. He undulates between both of their fists, growing wetter and warmth staggering in between the tiny space between them. “Ru,” he says.”Ru.”
Ru comes, arm crooked around Jin as he squeezes the both of them tighter and listens to his name, the only thing that makes this moment so palpable. And he knows he’s not dreaming because it hurts in the way that an orgasm can rile through his senses after he hasn’t…not for so long. And yes, this is good, and he’s not sorry and Jin’s weight feels like something deadly and warm.
“Yes,” he manages as his muscles weaken and Jin’s arms curl around him.
They lay there, just breathing for the longest time before Ru grabs some tissue in his pocket, cleaning them up. He vaguely thinks how he’s going to need a new shirt as he spots a stain that Jin left. When Jin moves, it’s liquid and he seems to have forgotten where he is, as he sits back, hiking his jeans back up.
“I need another hit,” he says and it’s a lonely statement as he averts his gaze, looking around the room, but the tape-wrapped package of plastic on the table is empty. He shifts, absently straightening Ru’s lapels like it matters, before he gets up. “We need to go see someone.”
Ru watches this with trepidation. “Jin…” he starts and he himself knows it’s going to be a lecture without effect. That is Jin’s semblance of thought and he cannot change it until he is willing to come out of this hole. Whatever his motivation for being like this is, Ru is unable to be much besides a cause and effect in a single moment like the last they just shared.
“Let’s go,” Jin is saying, and his kicking around looking through his things for something and finally pulls out a white hoodie and slips it on over his head before shrugging a thick coat over his shoulders making him look bulkier than he really is. “There’s a hustler who’s always on Nakadai.”
Ru only has enough time to grab his own coat before he hurries to follow Jin out the door.
When Jin travels, it’s like there’s no one else with him, he hurries ahead and moves like he’s going at a freight train speed. Ru walks the whole way behind him, practically jogging to keep up. He finally catches him as they turn the corner to one of the clubs on Nakadai Street.
Jin, like any star, ignores the line-up in front and heads straight to the bouncer and once again Ru is two steps behind him.
The bouncer takes one look at Jin. “I don’t think so, waster,” he mutters, pressing his meaty hand up against Jin’s chest stopping his progress. Jin’s entire frame jumps to attention and Ru comes forward, already tense for what’s about to happen. Jin’s been on and off with the crack thing, but it’s the same with any of his addictions. You just don’t upset any of his ventures for anything, music, sex, or drugs. Jin operates in a straight line, jagged with claws.
As Ru comes around to grab Jin’s arm, Jin shakes him off, but his tone is a disarming calm. “I guess you don’t watch enough television, or you’ve just forgotten who I am. My friend and I want in, and you’re going to let us in,” he states.
The large bouncer’s lip curls. “Just run along, you pair of junkies; it costs money to get in here.” He brushes them aside as he allows a few other glitzed up men to enter.
Ru realises that he must look an equal mess as well with his face stained with permanent ink, his coat dusty and smelling like smoke and burnt crack. Jin is stepping forward, but Ru sidesteps him to get in front. “Look, I have money; you should probably just let us in.”
The bouncer shoves him back and as he stumbles, it occurs to Ru that he left his gun back in the karaoke booth. Jin responds to Ru toppling like he’s had his trigger pulled so he barrels forward at the man. The bouncer responds with a left hook and Jin hits the ground.
“Hey!” Ru yells and doesn’t think as he takes a swipe at the man, but the bouncer is ready for him, gripping him against the lapels he hauls him backward. It’s almost a deadly blow across his jaw and Ru goes flying and hits the sidewalk. The crowd of onlookers yell and catcall and Ru winces, trying to pick himself up.
He sees a shadow loom over him and he looks up and locks eyes with Jin. His ears are still ringing and he can’t think straight. There’s something feral in Jin’s gaze now, sanity sliced up by every diamond of coke he’s had within the last five hours. Those unfamiliar dark circles of rage staring down make Ru stutter. “Let’s leave it, Jin. It’s all right. We’ll take a taxi down to Kabukicho and I’ll buy you some gear over there.” He knows he isn’t talking to Jin anymore, but he sits up on his elbows as Jin turns to look at the bouncer who has resumed his position smugly. “No, Jin! I’m fine; let’s just go!”
Calmly, Jin pulls the pencil still tucked behind his ear as he stalks toward the larger man.
“Fuck,” Ru hears himself say as he tries to scramble back up, his muscles screaming, his jaw throbbing.
It happens too quickly and Jin’s fingers are too fast to spot as he jams the pencil in the bouncer’s jugular and the people in the line-up back away, some yelling, some staring in shock. Jin yanks the pencil out, ignoring the bouncer’s gasp and the blood flow. The large man staggers forward and Jin doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t change expression as he thrusts it once more but in the back of the man’s neck. Screams ring out as Jin brings his foot down on the man, axe-kicking him to the ground.
“Jin!” Ru hollers, getting up but unable to move for horror.
Jin tucks his pencil away as the man writhes on the pavement, unable to scream for the blood bubbling out past his lips. Jin just chews his lip thoughtfully as he looks around before he grabs a garbage can lid nearby and wallops the man across the face with it. He gets in a number of gut-splitting kicks with the toe of his boot and the bouncer falls back, his face unrecognisable and black clothes wet and dark with blood.
Jin adjusts his hood which had fallen over his head before he expels a heavy, exhausted breath. He looks over at the frozen Ru before grabbing him around the waist. “What do you know, Ru. That which starts bitter ends sweet.”
Ru has no words and he can feel Jin’s arms shaking as he hauls Ru into the club with him.
Part 4