[01/01] Hello, Why
title. Hello, Why
pairing. akame (je)
rating. pg-13
summary. Kame tries to pull away.
author's note. sequel to Torrid Love Affair. or the sequel that NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN. only here by popular demand. :|
word count. 01990
Kame likes the way Jin moves his hips, likes the way he licks his lips, likes the way his fingertips skim his body. He likes the way Jin's head languidly moves to the side so he can suck his neck, likes the way Jin bites his lower lip, likes the way he moans and asks for more.
He doesn't like the fact that Jin has a girlfriend, the fact that Jin would probably fuck anything with two legs, the fact that he himself probably means very little. He doesn't like how he's at his every beck and call, doesn't like how he complies so easily, doesn't like the easy smiles and the facade he puts up so that he stays in Jin's favor. He doesn't like how he likes him so much, doesn't understand how he likes him so much.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Jin asks, rests his chin on Kame's shoulder, blows cold air on his ear.
"You." Kame stiffens as a warm hand slips under the hem of his tanktop and rests against the small of his back.
"What about me?" Jin asks, smiles.
"Shouldn't you go home? Won't she worry about you?" He doesn't even know her name. He doesn't want to.
"I told her I was staying with a friend for a late night study session." Jin's voice purrs in Kame's ear and a shiver runs up Kame's spine. "And today, I have class in a couple hours. So I can just chill here until then, right?"
"Shouldn't you call her, at least?"
"In a little while," Jin says, guides Kame's head toward the side so that their lips meet. "First, I want to say 'Good Morning' to you." He smirks.
Kame realizes that he doesn't mind too much. Though his conscience says it's wrong though his mind agrees, he can't bring himself to say "No". He might like being on the side, being the little secret, the love affair. He thinks it's okay, as long as she doesn't find out, as long as Jin keeps doing that--
---
"Want to stay at my place?" Jin asks him, lights another cigarette. "Next week. She's visiting her parents."
"Huh?" Kame takes the cigarette and a long drag. "Why?"
"I get lonely," Jin explains simply, drops the half-smoked stick onto the cement and presses Kame's body against the dirty brick wall.
It's kind of like déjà vu.
"What kind of reason is that?" Kame asks, feels Jin press a thigh between his legs.
"Does it matter?" Jin asks, leans in close.
---
"Are you loaded or something?" Kame sucks in a breath as he drops his bags in the front hall of the apartment (or, one-floor mansion). He knew that when Jin gave the cab driver the address, that the apartment was in a rich section of the city, that it would probably be nicer than anything that he would ever live in. "What the hell are you doing coming to that dinky little cafe to sing? If you can afford a place like this, then you can afford to buy yourself a hall--and an audience."
"I'm only there every couple of weeks," Jin says, shuts the door behind them and slips out of his shoes.
"Why?" Kame asks again, turns toward Jin and lets out a weak noise as he's pushed against a smooth white wall.
"What do you think?" Jin asks, eyes glinting with the answer.
"Well, if you can afford this place--" Kame's breath hitches as Jin pushes a cold hand up the front of his shirt, "Then you can afford beds."
"I can't," Jin mumbles against the side of his throat, grasps one of his hands in his own, "but my girlfriend can."
---
The first half of the week plays out like that.
---
"I'm a glorified whore," Kame announces to Jin's back as he enters the kitchen. Jin freezes at the stove, spatula in one hand and pan in the other. Kame hears the sizzle of eggs through the silence. "Right?" He continues.
"Why do you say that?" Jin asks, leans too far forward over the stove and feels heat course through one of his hands. He lets out a yelp, drops the pan on the marble floor. "Fucking stove always burns me the fuck on purpose," he hisses, rushes to the sink to run cold water over his hand.
Kame kneels in front of the stove, begins to pick up bits of vegetable and egg and cheese that may have been ingredients to an omelet. "Well, what would you call me?" He continues the conversation nonchalantly.
Jin doesn't answer, but when Kame looks up at him from the ground, he sees that his hands are shaking.
---
The day that Kame leaves, Jin doesn't call a taxi. "I'll bring you home myself," he says. Kame thinks that maybe this is over, that maybe Jin wants to break things off, that maybe he can go back to life without this man nagging at the back of his mind.
But the ride is silent and the tension is high. Kame mulls it over in his mind and thinks that Jin will say, "See you Wednesday," and he'll say "Okay" because he can't deny him.
---
"What was this?" Kame asks when they pull up to his apartment complex. He needs to know, wants to know, doesn't want to play this game. "What are we?" He asks, turns to the man in the driver's seat (whose knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel far tighter than he needs to). "You've never answered me," Kame says, mouth settling into a grim line. "And I need to know."
Jin is silent for a moment and Kame gets ready to leave.
"Are you afraid that it'll end like this?" Jin finally says, runs a hand nervously through his dark hair as his eyes flicker between Kame and the rearview mirror. "I am," he confesses. "Why are you still here? Why did you even say 'Yes'?"
"Why did you ask?" Kame bites back.
Jin opens his mouth to say something, but he bites his lower lip and unlocks the passenger-side door instead. "I'll see you on Wednesday."
Kame wants to cry, but all he does is grab his bags from the back seat and slam the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
---
He calls in sick on Wednesday, stays home and watches drama reruns.
---
At midnight, his doorbell rings and he know who it is. He continues watching episode number ten (the climax is soon), finds the remote control tangled in his blankets and turns up the volume. The ringing subsides only to be replaced with sharp knocking, and Kame gives a long, suffering look at the door to his apartment before turning back to the television. And that, within a few minutes, is replaced with a smooth, muffled voice, and he pretends he can't hear it, even though maybe something important is being said.
Seventeen minutes later, during the commercial break, Kame pads to the door, sweatpants dragging across tile and down comforter pulled tight around his body. He would check the peephole, but it's broken, and he opens the door halfway, cautiously, stares into an empty hallway.
He breathes a sigh of relief, but as he's reentering his apartment, he notices the sealed envelope taped below the crooked numbers on his door.
It's heavy in his hand before he throws it into the trashcbin, returns to his drama marathon. He's not going to win the object of his affection. She's holding a grudge (he lied to her about the double-life he led) and cutting off all contact, taking a job in South Korea. He arrives at the terminal gate just as the plane takes off.
Normally, this is where Kame cries.
---
The next morning, he wakes up curled in a ball. It's eight o'clock and he has to be at work in thirty minutes to open up--it's his punishment for calling in sick on a night where he's expected to work, attracts the customers.
On the way out, he gets rid of the trash.
He arrives at the back door with only five minutes to spare, and he doesn't expect someone to be waiting there for him.
"Oh, do you work here? When does this place open?" The man flashes a smile, a grin, nervously runs a hand through his hair as he straightens from his slouched position against the brick wall. "I wanted a latte--" he gestures towards the cafe. "But I think this place is opening later than usual today."
Kame moves around the man, fumbles in his jean pockets for keys to the building. "There's a sign on the front door. We'll be open in half an hour. I'm just here to get things ready," he says, doesn't look up into the man's eyes.
"I'm in a hurry." The man hovers over Kame as he inserts the first key into the first lock. "My girlfriend is kicking me out and I'm afraid my stuff is going to get thrown from her window. She's on the sixth floor, you know? The boxes might hit someone on the head on their way down." He lets out a shaky laugh and there's silence as he considers the statement. "--if she doesn't just burn everything."
"Shouldn't that be more important than a latte?" Second key. Second lock.
"Actually, I don't need a latte if you tell me your name." Kame prepares to open the door but the man's body slams it back shut. "I'm Akanishi." He's less than half a meter away from Kame's face. "Akanishi Jin," he breathes.
"Why?" And Kame's hands fall to his sides. He doesn't want to play this game.
"Hello, Why," Jin says, "You're pretty."
Kame's voice is tight as he fights the urge to smile because that's so stupid, so unlike the man's actions during their previous trysts. "I've heard better. And I'd hate to associate with someone just because he thinks I'm attractive enough to be in his company."
"Well." Jin sucks in air and slouches against the door. "If you let me take you out, then maybe you can prove there's something more to that pretty scowling face of yours."
"I'm a busy guy. And I don't go clubbing or barhopping on first dates." Kame says, takes a step back because it's hard to breathe. "I might get taken advantage of," he deadpans.
"I'll take you out to coffee. And we can talk." Jin's eyes light up with an idea. "Oh, look, Why, we happen to be standing outside a coffee shop. He opens the now unlocked door, takes Kame's hand in his own and drags him side. "I'll buy you something now." He grins. "Waiter? Waiter--" he makes a show of searching for an employee in the empty, dark room. "There's this waiter here," he explains, voice getting softer. "I see him on Wednesday nights. I think he quit though. He wasn't here yesterday."
"Maybe he was avoiding you," Kame mumbles, takes his hand from Jin's tight grip and makes his way behind the counter and into the kitchen.
"I went to tell him I was sorry yesterday!" Jin calls to Kame's back before following him. "I even wrote him a letter. A long one," he says.
Kame pauses in his step and turns toward Jin. "I work with him, you know. That waiter." He thinks a moment, looks up toward the ceiling and then down to his feet before his eyes meet Jin's. "He doesn't forgive you." His voice cracks a little.
The air is static and Jin's eyes fade at Kame's words.
It's so different. He's so different. Kame bites his lower lip, shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a step forward toward the taller man. "But I think I can," he says cautiously, "On his behalf."
2007.04.15 → 2007.04.17