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Water Dance

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Water Dance

Tell me

The beat is vibrating under Kame's soles and in his chest, and there's the rush of sound that's the fans, and everything is perfect. Kame lives for this, the high of a concert going well.

He waves between the verses, so hard there's a tug in his shoulder. The noise is crashing. It follows him across the stage, carries him. He's only half out of breath. Three hours of bright lights and loud screams and every minute is fuel, like he could go on and on and on.

Koki's squatting in a corner of the stage, pulling faces and making rude gestures, and the fans are lapping it up, ogling the outrageous fake tattoos on his bare chest. Yeah, we're KAT-TUN, we're the dangerous ones. Kame loves that, too, their edge that sets them apart.

He remembers to sing his lines while making a few more rows of fans scream because he can.  He lost his t-shirt five minutes ago and now he gives them an erotic swirl of his hips. He's very good at that. Harmony comes from across the stage, soaring and dependable, Jin accounted for. A quick check round the others because if he doesn't, no-one will. Tacchan playing air guitar, Yucchi doing the funny hand things that go with the funny mouth thing, Taguchi acting like all the screams are for him alone. They're high, and sweaty, bouncing across the stage topless, it's their faraway promise.

He can't wait to debut, make it real.

The chorus pulls them all together, and Kame thinks it's like energy beams or some laser power thrown back on each other. They are fantastic. His group is fantastic.

Jin's to his left, trying to be erotic too. In a fully dressed kind of way, which is just hilarious.

Kame can help, just as soon as they stop singing. He lowers the mic and turns to Jin.

"Here, get that off, show them what you got."

"What, what are—"

Kame rips apart the velcro holding the costume together, no time for arguments. Jin squeaks.

"Gotta provide," Kame informs him. He's a bit breathless now, and Jin could make this easier, but he's managed to strip the jacket off, and though Jin's still protesting he lifts his arms for the shirt and that's that.

"Don't say I never did anything for you," Kame says, as Jin puts three meters between them.

"You're crazy," Jin throws back, but he's grinning and uses his new freedom to pour a bottle of water over his head. The fans scream.


"You are such a perv," Jin announces, trying to look all suffering while half-naked and happy, and his voice is high with laughing. The dressing room is loud, too, full of his bandmates' concert commentary and the hyper gigglefits that are so annoying when Kame is trying to tell people important things but so hilarious when they're all high from a concert.

Kame is tapping his foot to a rhythm still rushing around them. His legs are a little heavy, preview of a crash that's coming once he gets a shower and a bed. For now he's still buzzing, and grinning at Jin without apology.

Jin tries to smack him with a gross damp undershirt but he has crap aim and looks like he's wrestling a snake. Kame giggles harder.

"It's fanservice!" he says. He's half tempted to do some more erotic moves to make his point. "We want to be good idols, right? I'm just helping you give the fans what they want."

"Our fans are pervs," Jin diagnoses.


Love Me

He's so tired. They've filmed for ten hours already. Yesterday was fourteen, then the trip home, and a meeting about the summer tour early in the morning. And now they've been here again since lunchtime. They're nowhere near done and the Kudou guy keeps flubbing his lines.

Jin's worse; Jin sleeps half the day if you let him. On five hours sleep a night, he's practically sleepwalking through the shoots. Every time they have a break, he naps; Kame is a one-man, bored, alarm clock. A tired one.

He says a polite, "No, please don't worry," to Nakama-san, who acts like every delay is her personal fault. She tries to look after them, almost like a real teacher. Jin says she's way too hot to be a teacher, once she takes the dorkface off. Kame has no view, but she's nice.

Sometimes, when he's really tired, he can't deal with nice, he knows it makes him whiny.

Down they go on the floor of the warehouse again, playing possum for Yankumi's big speech. All the intense stuff got done earlier when she wasn't around yet. Jin's been quiet since. Quiet, pale, exhausted, the fake blood the only piece of color on him.

So little to do, but they have to be in all the shots. Kame really tries to take it with the right spirit, reminds himself that it's because they're the leads. That’s probably also why Jin didn't bitch about it, when he was still in a state to bitch.

At least they're looking appropriately pitiful for the scene.

"Cut!" the director shouts, and Kame thinks he sees Jin flinch awake. "Let's all take ten and refresh ourselves before we shoot the rest."

Kudou's gang shuffles off and Class 3D picks itself up.  Jin is wobbly and Kame doesn't know why he's annoyed or who exactly he's annoyed at, but all his fatigue gets an edge when he watches Jin trying to blink himself back to conscious.

"More coffee?" he asks, more reflex than really wanting coffee.

Jin pulls a face. "Guess we'd better."

"I'll get some, sit down." Kame pushes Jin towards the uncomfortable plastic chairs off camera.

Location coffee is always extra special disgusting, but everyone drinks it anyway. Kame tops Jin's up with cold water and grabs a chocolate bar for him too, weaving his way through the crowd to get back quickly. Ten minutes isn't long when you've got to suck your coffee through a straw so you don't ruin your 'blood'.

Jin takes the cup like it's some yucky medicine he can't get around. He still looks so good even when he's a zombie that Kame isn't sure anyone but him really sees the exhaustion.

Kame sucks on his own coffee, hopes it'll kick in soon. There they sit, their brains mush.

"Better?" he says once Jin's inhaled the chocolate.

Jin grunts something that means 'yes'. "You?" he adds.

"Yeah, okay."

Jin stares vacantly at the activity in front of them. "I'm glad I'm not doing this on my own," he says. "I mean, that there's the two of us."

Kame grins. Not because it's funny but... yeah. "Me too."

There's their call. They suck the last of their coffee slurpily, rushed, and then it's back on the floor, exactly where the sticker markings tell them.


"Of course we'd work hard no matter what, but we're just not used to the adult schedules yet and I think it'll be better for filming tomorrow if we can sleep more and drive less," Kame says, and he's pretty sure he's almost there. What he really means is that they'll get better scenes out of Jin if Jin doesn't vomit from fatigue, but he's a Johnny and he has to be diplomatic.

The producer has misgivings about not doing exactly what is in their contracts with the company, which is that they're supposed to be driven home from shooting every day. But the director is a more pragmatic guy, and always looks at Kame like he knows Kame to be very responsible.

"There are no toilets in that van," he says, pragmatically, and that's when Kame knows he's won.

"You could maybe park it nearer the portaloos for us?" Even so it's just across a parking lot. Also, they have plenty empty water bottles.

And just like that, Kame gets the reminder not to do anything unsafe and the key.

Jin has fallen asleep holding their last coffee attempt. Talk about being unsafe. He starts when Kame relieves him of the cup.

"Come along," Kame says, helping him up, "let's go."

Jin stumbles along, halts obediently when Kame stops to unlock the van, and Kame even gets him inside and sat on the narrow couch opposite the makeup counter before he says, "What's... why are we here?"

"Because here, we can sleep now, and get up an hour later tomorrow."

There's a second... three seconds... where Jin just looks dazed. "Ah," he finally says, with such a tone of relief that Kame wants to punch his fist in the air.

"So just wait till I get some things, and here—" He hands Jin a handful of makeup remover tissues. "—get that stuff off your face. I'll be right back."

He gets their bags from the cars and the big coats for between takes to use as bedding. It'll do, for April. He doesn't forget the empty bottles either.

When he comes back, Jin has been doing his impaired best with the tissues. But it'll do; unfairly so. Kame gathers up the used tissues and stuffs them in the can. There's a soft thud as Jin slumps back on the couch, and goes, "I'm so tired," and now there's the whine.

"Yeah, me too," Kame says. "You can sleep in a minute." He's almost dizzy when he sits on the stool in front of the mirror and gets to work on his own make-up, more careful and thorough than Jin because he doesn't want to break out like crazy overnight.

Jin's eyes are already closed when he turns back around.

Kame hesitates for a moment... but he can't let him sleep in costume. Not even costume which is meant to be battered from gang fights and rolling around on warehouse floors.

"Hey." He shakes Jin's shoulder just a bit. Jin makes an incoherent protest sound. "You got to take those clothes off. Then you can sleep. I won't even make you brush your teeth but you got to get out of costume."

"'kay," Jin says, eyes closed, his hand flailing somewhere near the buttons of his shirt before he lets it sink again. "Inna minute."

Yeah. Right. "You're helpless, you know that? You're like a baby, a big overgrown baby."

Normally Jin would try to defend his grown-up manliness with all he had. "'M not," is what he manages this time, so Kame takes mercy.

"Okay, hold still." He makes short work of the buttons, somehow gets Jin to sit up and carefully strips shirt and blazer off him at the same time. Shoes next, belt and zipper, and it's easier to get his legs out of those pants than it was to get his arms out of the sleeves, that's for sure. He hesitates over the socks, but lets them stay on. April.

He's sweaty by the time he's done. "Overgrown baby," he mutters.

At least he'll sleep too deeply to ask for Kame's help in getting across a spooky parking lot to the loo at five in the morning.


Kame wakes up from the noise of cars and people, a few minutes before his alarm can go off. Early morning light is streaming in through the cracks in the curtains. For a moment he's confused why he's in a reclined passenger seat with a huge coat on top of him, but then it slowly comes back to him.

Jin is curled up on the couch in the back. The awake sounds outside aren't having any effect on him. A strand of hair flutters up from his breathing. Kame feels like an ogre, waking him up.

"Hnn," Jin says. He's puffy-eyed and has a fabric line his cheek, like some cute scarred anime character.

"Rise and shii-iine," Kame singsongs, and Jin grimaces and pulls the coat over his face. Kame pokes him in the side. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Hey!" Jin yelps and tries to become one with the back of the couch. "What are you doing!"

"Thought that was obvious."

"What are you doing here?"

"You might figure that out if you came back out from under there," Kame says heartlessly. "And opened your eyes properly."

It takes Jin almost a full minute to decide that yeah, he is that curious; Kame is starting to think he's fallen asleep again when his head finally comes out of the coat-cocoon.

"Eh," Jin says. "What?"

He's so intellectual first thing in the morning. Kame tries to explain in words of one syllable. "And people are arriving and we're due out there in half an hour," he finishes up, "so we should get ready."

A look of awe has spread over Jin's face. "Genius. You're a genius. I'm friends with a genius. Go me!"

Kame would be lying if he pretended that doesn't feel good. "Looking forward to some genius coffee," he says with a slightly warm face.

"Yeah," Jin says, slowly and regretfully, before he musters the strength to flop his feet down from the couch. Then he blinks; at his legs, which are showing goosebumps, then at Kame. "Where are my clothes?"

"You were still in costume," Kame explains, and points to their school uniforms on two hangers. "I hung it up over there. You were kind of out of it."

"Wow." Jin glances at the clothes, then at his legs. "I don't even remember taking it off."

Kame grins a little. "Well, it was mostly me taking it off." With Jin's arms getting in the way. It's funnier now, when he's not exhausted himself.

"You're serious?" Jin looks like he doesn't know if he should feel guilty.

"Totally," Kame says. "I got you a full-service van."

Jin's eyes glint. "Then I guess the coffee will be service, too?"

Sometimes Kame doesn't know how he puts up with this gorgeous moron. He throws Jin's pants at him, belt and all. "I'm the genius. You're the coffee boy this morning."

It says a lot about Jin's gratitude that he doesn't try harder but simply pulls the pants on, grabs a t-shirt from his bag, ties his hair back, slips into his trainers and goes.


Show me

"Come on, we can't be late!" Kame calls out, yanking on the zipper of his boots.

Jin is by the second clothes rack, being the noisiest dresser alive. "I can't deal with this fucking shirt, I told Matsushita I can't— the fuck—" His head disappears and reappears, face flushed.

"You've had like ten performances to practice, how can this be so hard," Kame snaps back, and he is done and ready. He can't shake the tension, all those things that suddenly count.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jin is hissing at the shirt. They got better costumes with debut, but the backstage rhythms stayed the same.

"Just breathe," Kame says. "It's counterproductive if you—"

"You're not helping!"

Right. He'll help. He's right there. "Give me that." He grabs the shirt by the bottom. "Lean forward. Arms out."

Jin doesn't protest, he knows they need to get out there as well as Kame does. Kame pulls, tosses the shirt aside, and Jin's already grabbed the new one.

Kame starts getting him out of the blue pants ready for the red, and thank fuck Jin remembered to get his boots off first.

"You'll turn out a terrible Johnny if you don't speed this up," he mutters as he flings the sash around Jin's hips; Jin is still doing up buttons and meets Kame's eyes on the last one, and for a moment Kame thinks this is maybe a little weird, maybe even for idols, maybe even for them.

"You know what, you're getting pretty good at getting me undressed," Jin says with an embarrassed squint, and Kame snorts and tugs the sash into place. Jin leans on him to get into the boots, the makeup guy fusses with Jin's hair and off they run.

He still catches the glitter of Jin's costume by his side, and Jin's concentration face, cuter than all their photoshoots combined, and then the footlights come on and turn him blind.


Catch me

Kame's cheeks are burning, and he looks at nothing and no-one except that wall. He can't fail a third time. All the others have scored some points; even Nakamaru managed to hit the lowest of the three buttons once. Kame just wants to beat that — hell, he wants to draw even, he isn't asking much. Ten points.

"Don't think of it as your enemy," Taguchi says wisely, and Kame glares... at the wall, he's got to focus. Taguchi can talk, tall show-off who tried – failed! – to hit two buttons at once on his third go.

"You'll do it," Jin says, and with that Kame starts running, again.

But he hits the springboard wrong, doesn't get the bounce, and there's the padded blue wall again and not a button in reach, and then he drops.

Well, damn. He smiles his idol-smile, says something self-deprecating to the host, it's all autopilot. He catches Nakamaru looking relieved that they don't have to do a tiebreaker.

Jin has his final try and aims for the top button this time, just like Kame knew he would. He's been keeping count. It's a close thing but he makes it and there's that adorable,  brazen smirk at Taguchi as he returns.

"So that's zero for Kamenashi, ten for Nakamaru, thirty for Ueda and Tanaka, sixty for Taguchi and seventy for Akanishi!" the host announces. "The winner is Akanishi, meaning he can devise the punishment for the loser."

At least they don't get electroshocks in this one. And Jin knows better than to do anything involving tomatoes.

Jin tilts his head, putting a finger to his lips in a thinking pose, and the camera zooms in on him to excited music for the commercial break.

Kame's just flat-out going to refuse anything to do with tomatoes. Limits are limits.

The hosts commiserate with him and tell him this has happened to other people. Jin, meanwhile, is scanning Kame with a glint in his eyes, holding the thoughtful expression. Not, Kame thinks with a bit of unease, very sportsmanlike, rubbing it in like that.

The music is rising, the cameramen back on point. Kame takes a breath and puts on a smile, ready to be a good loser.

"And now we'll hear what winner Akanishi has planned for the loser of the game," the host announces dramatically.

They should have arranged something beforehand. Jin could have forced Kame to go surfing. Kame could have forced Jin not to leave his bed for a day. But neither of them ever thought he'd actually lose.

Jin gets that intent look of putting thoughts into words, and Kame knows straightaway it's not going to be something as simple as surfing.

"Well," Jin says, "we all got really busy this year, and I moved out into my own apartment, and with being so busy, there's a lot of things I need to do and I never get to do them. Like, for example, laundry."

Kame bites down on 'Your mom does that'. Not the point.

"Or cleaning," Jin says. "Or... window cleaning. And taking the trash out." He thinks. "And watering the plant, but I think it's dead. Maybe get a new plant. I don't have time for that either."

Kame is sure by now everyone is getting it.

"And I don't cook so well," Jin adds. "So I figure since I won, I should get something out of it, so I want Kamenashi to be my servant for a day and do whatever I tell him to."

A shriek from the studio audience crashes over them. Half of KAT-TUN whoop and clap their hands. Kame gives Jin a flat look of disgust but when Jin is pleased with himself, such details don't penetrate.

"That's going to be hard work for Kamenashi-kun, doing everything Akanishi-kun says for a day!" one of the hosts marvels.

Jin is looking regal and encouraging the applause. Jerk.

"I guess that shows you it's better to win than to lose," Kame says with a game smile, letting his shoulders droop as the camera zooms in on his plight.

"It's settled then," the host announces grandly. "Kamenashi will spend 24 hours as Akanishi's servant and we'll be there to record a few of those hours and show you the highlights in two weeks' time!"

More shrieks from their fans. Jin just got himself a jump in his already huge popularity ratings.

They get thanked for coming and playing; Signal, which they're here to promote, gets played again in the background and they march off to the dressing room.


Use Me

Jin stops so suddenly that Kame nearly smacks into him, early morning coffee and Jin's gym bag and all.

"What?" Kame snaps. He feels the camera hovering and circling, thinks this isn't how idols should act on their way to work.

Jin tilts his head slowly, giving Kame an innocent look. "Don't you think you should be getting that?"

Oh for fuck's sake. "You're kidding me, right?"

Jin's eyebrows rise in irritating, innocent confusion. "Is that how servants talk to their bosses?"

He is having way too much fun with this. Jin never has fun with anything before ten a.m., this must be really special to him. But Kame reminds himself that it's basically part of their TV show gig, and he readjusts Jin's stupid bag, balances his coffee, and pulls the door open for Jin. "Do you need a helpful push?" he offers.

"That's okay," Jin says generously, "but you can clear the way for us here."

So Kame balances himself, Jin's bag and his coffee through the crowds at early-morning Tokyo station, the cameras making sure they catch when some woman's umbrella almost takes his eye out and some rude fat tourist shoulders him out of the way. Jin, he assumes, is having a peaceful journey in his wake.

He ditches his coffee cup as they get on the platform; then he accepts fate and marches back to the trash can with Jin's cup, too.

On the platform at least, people are largely standing still in their lines.

"Remember to save me a seat on the train," Jin says.

"I'm your servant, not your personal sorcerer," Kame bites out. He thinks one of the camera guys is grinning.

"Just do your best," Jin says airily.

Yeah. Right.

They get squeezed onto the next train by the station guards. Some shoe or water bottle from Jin's bag is digging into Kame's side. There's no space to breathe, never mind move, the usual.

People are curious about the camera and Kame can hear the tell-tale whisper when someone recognizes them. Jin has his hand in one of the overhead grab handles and shoots him a grin as the train jerks into motion. It's not a mean one this time; it's just Jin, and warmth, the kind of grin that reminds Kame why people will forgive Akanishi anything.

Life is so unfair sometimes.


Jin spreads his arms out across the back of the couch and sighs like a man at the end of a good long work day.

It's two in the afternoon, and the camera crew has enough for the video segment. Plenty of footage of Kame lugging Jin's various bags around, buying him Starbucks coffee, organizing a hair brush, and hang up his freaking clothes. Now it's time for final interviews and they've been giving a break from shooting to deal with that. The other four get an actual break, and the novelty of watching Kame fetch and carry has worn off; Ueda's munching in a power bar, Taguchi is speed-writing someone on his phone, and Koki and Nakamaru are deep in thoughts about hairstyle options.

The camera crew have their audience with Jin. Legs sprawling, he's taken over the whole couch. Like one of those cats, Kame thinks, that manage to occupy a space four times their size.

They ask him to rate his 'servant', on a number of criteria. "Effectiveness," Jin ponders. "I guess he did pretty well. Got everything done, except for that subway seat but I'll be generous about that." He nods into the camera. "Yeah, full points for effectiveness."

Kame is a bit annoyed that that makes him feel good. He does his best to look unimpressed.

Jin grins at him. "Now, obedience. He did everything I asked him, but he's got this attitude."

Hey, not fair! Kame glares at him.

Jin just keeps grinning. "Probably wished he could poison my third coffee. Rebellious. He tries to hide it by not complaining but I know anyway. So... five out of ten, I guess."

"Can he do that?" Kame interjects. "What is this, docking points for mindreading?"

"See!" Jin says, nodding and satisfied.

They all nod. They see.


When the film crew has left, Kame feels ready to go home. It's exhausting, having every move you make observed. But they're not even done with this photoshoot yet, never mind the day. Wink Up is next.

Jin's still sprawling but he's looking more tired than he did for the cameras, too. "Next costume," he says, holding out a hand.

Kame blinks. "You serious?"

"Sure! I'm a very important idol, I need to wear the right costume," Jin says, waving his hand in a very swishy way. "I've got this bandmate who would tell you the same."

"That's not what I— aren't you bored yet?"

"Nope," Jin grins. "Twenty-four hours, right?"

Right. Twenty-four hours. Of course Jin would milk that, especially if it means he can have more of a rest.

So Kame gets their Wink Up costumes, flimsy sleeveless black-and-white outfits for extra sexiness. The make-up artist brushes over their faces again with that big brush, and then there's another half hour of posing.

After a free hour spent hunting down food – "Kame, stand in line and get me a Big Mac with large fries." – and eating it – "Kame, get me another napkin." – they're due out at NHK Hall for Shounen Club.

Jin is so un-bored by ordering Kame around that Kame is starting to wonder if he'll suggest a sleepover, just so he doesn't miss out on any of his servant hours.

Two shows back-to-back, set lists they worked out last week. Backstage here is always like a shot of great coffee on an upset stomach; a perfect hit followed by the jitters. They're so big now, it feels like they're real proper stars, but the bustle and the little kids and the senpai visits always make Kame feel thirteen years old again.

Staff are wheeling in their costumes at a jog. Ueda spreads out two bags of make-up on his dresser. The room smells like someone forgot a ripe sock or an onion here last week.

Kame cranks the AC fan up to higher, then gets his own bag out. Photoshoot makeup, even if it were still intact, isn't strong enough for stage. He dabs on the sweatproof concealer, spreads foundation over it, reaches for the blusher—


Oh god, what now? He meets Jin's eyes in the mirror.

Jin waves a black pencil. "I can't get the eyeliner right. I need a competent servant here."

Jin's eternal struggle with the eyeliner. Usually he wheedles randomly passing makeup artists into helping him out. Kame sighs and puts the blusher down. They don't have all night.

"Is that at least your own or did you swipe mine again?" Kame asks, getting up to cross to Jin's chair and holding his hand out for the pencil.

"You have your bag right here, how would I swipe it?" Jin says.

Point; but Kame just says, "I know about your special talents." Before Jin can reply he adds, "Hold still."

He uncaps the eyeliner and tilts Jin's head up into the make-up light. That light makes any regular human look terrible, while Jin maybe hits 'gorgeous if a little pale', at worst. Kame snorts to himself. Unfair life.

"What?" Jin says.

"You're disgustingly pretty."

Jin grins. "So I've heard."

"Don't move your face, idiot."

Jin's brow scrunches up as if he's suddenly concerned. "Also cool though, right?"

"Hold still." It's actually a little weird to see the twitches of Jin's face this close. "How much ego-petting do you need," he mumbles, pencil at the ready so Jin shuts up.

Kame's extra careful because with Jin you just don't know when he'll do something else dumb; keeps his free hand firmly on his cheek while drawing the lines. Jin's breath is tickling his skin, his lips already glossed so Kame has to watch out he doesn't get it on his arm.

Kame's fingers twitch— careful, he has to be careful. He halts and starts again, more control.

Jin is tracking what he's doing, not just having an inner snooze. His eyelashes are so thick it's unreal. Kame sometimes cheats with a touch of mascara.

And he's done. He checks it over, tilts Jin's face this way and that, and his fingertips feel cool after he lets go.

He looks back at Jin, and Jin blinks. The make-up's really working on him. Eyes even darker, and Kame's a bit surprised when Jin just fidgets out of the chair instead of gloating over all the annoying crap he can make Kame do today.


Jin's already headed outside; the dressing room is emptying and Kame is just pulling his boots on. The show went well, even if he got teased about his punishment. Funnily Jin didn't make as much of it as he could have.

Just as he is ready to leave himself, he spots Jin's bag in the corner. Idiot hasn't even noticed yet.

"Hey, you forgot your bag," he says when he finds Jin lurking just outside.

Jin shoots him a grin. "No, I didn't." He sets off towards the subway.


"Don't you think this is getting old?" Kame says, catching up.

He can't tell just how smug Jin is while they're on the train, because they're always quiet on the train, and there's sunglasses, and no drawing attention. Just Jin sitting with his head leaned back and Kame managing two bags. There'll be no ghosts creepy enough for if he ever gets his revenge and the tables are turned. He'll make Jin sleep in a haunted house.

He doesn't mind the invite to Jin's place, for debrief and relaxing. Yamapi said he'd be out on more promotion stuff, and what their apartment lacks in tidiness it makes up for in fridge content.

Today it's not even that messy. Jin's mom must have come over not too long ago. Jin goes straight for his room, even though the TV set is in the kitchen, and Kame dumps the bags outside of Jin's closet, while Jin dumps himself on the bed. Jin's bed can technically be turned into a proper sofa, though Jin's an advocate of the concept of using it as a sofa without going to the trouble of making it look like a sofa first.

"What do you want for drink?" Jin wants to know, sprawling against bunched up pillows. "Beer? Vodka and coke? Tequila and tonic?"

They have quite the stash. "Vodka and tonic," Kame says, to be difficult.

Jin holds his eyes while he breaks into another evil grin. And waits.

Kame rolls his eyes. "Guess that's my job too," he says.

Jin shrugs innocently.

Fine. "What do you want?"

"Oh," Jin says. "I'll just have what you're having."

Okay then. Kame goes to fix the drinks, he knows where everything is.

"You guys forgot to make ice," he says when he takes the drinks back, and hands Jin his glass. Jin looks elegantly relaxed and like ice isn't the priority.

"Thanks," he says as he takes the glass for a sip. Kame raises his eyebrows, and Jin blinks. "I mean. Well done, slave."

"Servant," Kame says, feeling silly that he even reminded this big idiot.

"Uh, yeah," Jin says, blushing a little but shrugging it off.

They have another sip just because. And then another one.

"Ah," Jin says, "that's better." He starts to contort himself trying to toe off his socks somehow, not very successfully. Kame laughs when the panting and writhing starts to look a bit indecent.

"Don't fucking laugh, servant, fucking help me!" Jin protests with a grin.

"You want me to take off your sweaty socks?"

Jin sits up. "I want you to undress me so I can get into my sweatpants." The grin turns cocky. "We know you're good at that."

The alcohol is hot in Kame's stomach, a little burn that spreads out. "Are you serious?"

"Sure," Jin says. "It can be your final task for the day."

Kame will take that.

After a quick gulp he puts his drink down, and gets on the socks, pulling them down from the tops and avoiding the potentially sweaty bits.

He unbuttons Jin's plaid shirt and Jin is absolutely no help, messing him up by having another sip of his drink, and squirming when Kame accidentally touches his collarbone.

"Will you hold still?" Kame seems to be saying that a lot today.

Jin turns himself into  a statue. It helps with the buttons, but not once Kame wants to strip the shirt off him. Kame reaches around, one arm each side, to push it down at the back, and Jin laughs warm against his stomach.

This is… he needs to be careful. The shirt catches on Jin's elbows and Jin's being his normal, unhelpful self. Just a tug, get the shirt free.

"You'll need to lift your hands, if you can manage," he says when he's got the sleeves down to Jin's wrists.

Jin lifts his hands, barely, the hairs are standing up on his forearms. Kame watches Jin's fingers, gorgeous like the rest of him, slip through the cuffs, wonders what they'd feel like if Jin did the eyeliner for him.

"Well?" Jin says, and Kame realizes he's been standing there holding the shirt and not putting it down. "Are you going to let me up?"

Right. They aren't done yet. He tosses it on the bed and takes a step back. His face feels hot.

Jin rises and stands, collarbones at the height of Kame's chin. He's always way more tanned than Kame is. Kame keeps his eyes on his chest while he undoes that stupid sideways belt Jin wears. His nipples look like he's maybe cold.

But Jin's skin is warm against his fingers when he fumbles with the button, and the muscles in his belly twitch a little.

Kame's hand slips on the button, it's plain weird to do it from this side. Weird and…

"You have to hold still," he says, for the zillionth time. Careful is in his voice, he thinks. Or something is. He's not clear entirely what, and why alarm is all over him. But.... careful.

He's just playing Jin's stupid game to the end.

"I'm not moving," Jin says.

"You were —" Moving against my fingertips. He can't say that.

And he can't help touching, it's the only way to get this done. Jin isn't moving. Get it done.

He slips his fingers behind the button, and that works, works like a dream, except he's touching and he holds his breath, a moment with the thought hanging there, before heat and stupid shoots into his face. He's thinking– what is he thinking?

He lets go of the button, lets his hands sink. There. Done. He doesn't look up.

There's a pause. Then Jin says, "And?"

Kame feels the hot prickling in his hair. But he can't bail without saying something

He takes a silent breath and puts his hands on the zipper.

And that should be easy, no more groping required, but his fingers are clammy and flustered and complicated.

He's taken pants off Jin before. In public. This shouldn't be so…

His eyes snap to Jin for the joke, the familiar.

Jin's stillness has gone dark. His eyes, his breath, everything is... holding.

"Almost done," Kame croaks, and Jin nods, barely. Breathlessly.

When Kame can finally push the pants down he keeps his eyes firmly on Jin's chest in front of him. Nothing to be seen down there. Works for both of them.

Jin seems to agree because he grabs his sweatpants and needs absolutely no help squirming into them.

His hair is covering his face as he's hunting up the t-shirt to go with the sweatpants, but Kame sees the redness anyway. His own face feels on fire.

He should say something. Put this all in the right context. It's not his fault.

Jin's got the t-shirt over his head when Kame finally gets his brain to move. "Final job," he says, way too late. "I'll hold you to that."

Jin freezes and looks like he's really not following, until he nods jerkily. "Sure. Fair's fair." His chin comes up a bit. He scoots back on the bed and is badly acting being relaxed. "Well done." Stops there.

"You're such a pain," Kame says, the way an exasperated drama character would.

Jin seems to think better of several replies, settling on, "Well, I won, right? And you lost. So."

"Right," Kame says because this is totally what it's about, what they can make it about. "Next time I'll beat you."

Jin looks almost relieved. "Bring it on, shorty!"

Kame starts picking up his belongings. He feels out of place, in his street clothes when Jin is looking fluffy and dishev— stop. Anyway. He should leave. "Got to get something to eat," he mumbles.

"Sure," Jin says quickly. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Kame says, snatching up his bag, not looking his way again. "Tomorrow. See you. Then. I mean, see you then."


Stop Me

They see each other, all right. Briefly, always, because Jin is good friends with his phone today and Kame has to look for stuff in his duffel bag a lot, or listen attentively to their manager. He always does that anyway, but today he doesn't even check Jin is paying attention and not making faces.

Jin said good morning, and Kame said good morning. Now they're in a meeting, and Kame is listening, and the air feels so loaded on his skin Kame is surprised the others aren't getting itchy from it. It's like he's seeing Jin with the back of his fucking head.

"Swords," says the manager, and, "lederhosen," or something, and Kame realizes he hasn't been listening as well as he thought.

"What was that last bit," he asks Koki on his way out. There's no point asking Jin, Jin never knows.

"Dude, I thought you'd tell me," Koki says.

He's got to pull himself together.

It gets easier over the next days, Jin less obsessed with his phone, and Kame at least checking on him again.

They're backstage at Music Station, and done, and Kame is riding that high of everything clicking and running smooth, and so when Jin says, "I swear, I almost forgot my lines," to no one in particular, Kame takes it as almost-conversation.

"You pulled it off, though," he says. "That's what counts." It's a normal thing to say, no-one can read anything into it.

Jin's eyes still have a stutter to them, but he says, "Yeah. Thanks."

Small talk gets easy again. With the weeks, the memory becomes less vivid and distracting. Their duets are perfect as always.  Sometimes Kame forgets for hours, and is surprised when he turns and finds Jin's look skittering away from him.

They haven't mentioned it again. Knowing Jin, they never will.


Lock Me

They're on their third photoshoot of the day and running late because there was a problem with the costumes on the second one. Kame is done and he's starving, and he doesn't know if he wants to hang around the photographer to watch Jin's shoot because on the one hand, that would be normal, but on the other, Jin being deliberately sexy might not help with normal, he's not sure.

Jin catches him being indecisive and doesn't look entirely comfortable, and he scans Kame in a way that make Kame wonder if something is weird about his costume here, too. He also gives Kame a smile though, and makes a goofy face that is only a little awkward before he steps under the spotlights.


Kame makes for the food cart.

He's barely taken three steps when his manager wants to talk tomorrow's schedule, which isn't looking any less hectic than today's. Kame's looking forward to the magazine interview, though not so much the game show, because he doesn't actually want to devise a punishment game for Jin any more, but he doesn't want to throw the game, either, and who knows.

By the time somebody's at least pushed some coffee into his hand, Jin is done with his solo shoot and finding himself a chair at the right almost-normal distance.

He grabs a couple of flyers for some musical and starts to fan his face. "Phew."

Kame nods, always the same with those lights. He hands over some more from his own side, to make a proper fanning bundle, and Jin throws him a grateful look.

Coffee done, Kame heads for the cart again, and gets his sandwich without interruption this time. He's literally one bite in when Koki comes up to him, his floofy hat bouncing on his head. "You're wanted upstairs," he says. "Something about the shoot earlier, Matsushita is all in a huff."

"Just let him sit for a fucking minute, he hasn't eaten all day," Jin says suddenly, so sharply that both their heads turn. His brows are drawn together and his jaw has a fierce set to it.

Koki puts up his hands. "I'm just the messenger, dude." He slinks away from Jin's one-sided staring contest.

"You need to eat," Jin grumbles. "They can wait ten minutes."

It's the happiest Kame has felt in weeks.


Leave Me

"Aren't they the coolest?" Jin is chewing an onigiri and holding out his phone screen to Kame, showing him a picture of new special edition Nikes. He has his feet up on the chair next to Kame and normally Kame would at least ask him to take his shoes off, but he missed it while Jin wasn't doing it. It's hot in here, and Kame's silver glitter costume locks in the heat around him, but their spot gets a gust from a rotating fan every once in a while, fluffing up Jin's hair.

The sneakers are sure designer-like. Kame admires them and notes that they're really expensive too.

"They come out next Saturday," Jin says, pausing for a bit. The stylist is chasing Koki over a fake tattoo. "If we're not busy, maybe we could go?" He holds Kame's eyes and gives him a regular 'I have the best ideas and don't you know you want to' smile.

Slowly, over a month and a bit, things have returned to normal. Kame hopes the weeks of weird will start fading from his memory soon, too.

Earlier, he thought Jin was looking at him when he tried the fit of his costume, but he's no longer sure he's not imagining that.

"Yeah, I'd be up for that," he says. He looks up when Ueda is leaning down over Jin's shoulder, peering at the Nikes.

"You'll have to queue for those," Ueda says. "They sell out, like," he snaps his well-polished fingers.

"I can queue," Jin says confidently.

"You'll queue in the morning for a pair of shoes?"

"They're really cool shoes," Jin says, though with that flicker of thoughtfulness that means that he's arrived at plan details. "You'll just be jealous."

"The shop opens at nine," Ueda adds, with a surprising amount of evil for someone with a glitter butterfly on his face.

Jin's eyes go wide, and he looks at Kame like Kame will save him with more merciful information.

Kame lifts an awkward shoulder. "Yeah..."

Jin sucks in his bottom lip. "Hm."

It's a shame about the shoes but Kame can't help a snicker, and Jin's left foot kicks him in the hip.

They get called up in groups, then alone, then all of them; it's going to be a long day, but for once it's not hectic. Koki and Jin prank Nakamaru by replacing the belt on his private clothes with a smaller one, and somehow Taguchi's water bottle calls him 'Masuda'.

Kame is enjoying the shoots for the shop photos and he thinks he's looking sexy and professional, and sees Jin catch the first two, but then Jin is off, maybe finding something to tease Ueda with.

At the end of the day, they're all exhausted. Kame doesn't know if Jin came up with a prank for Ueda, but Jin's alive and unharmed, so maybe not. There's also not going to be queues for Nikes, but he has a happy feeling that a Shibuya outing sometime soon is on the table.

Their company cars are on standby, and Kame is peeling out of his pants. Nakamaru is freaking out that he's gotten fat when he puts on his regular jeans and the belt won't close, and Jin and Koki have a giggle fit that is half annoying and half addictive.

Jin is still changing while Koki looks for where he hid Nakamaru's original belt, contorting himself because something seems to have got caught somewhere, maybe one of the tassels. Kame is feeling a flush rise in his face, while Jin tugs and pushes at the side zipper on his slinky black shirt, and Kame keeps moving slowly, staying here, not rushing or reacting. He keeps checking on Jin as he folds up his stuff, and while Jin is still trying to conjure up an extra joint in his arm, their eyes meet for a moment. Kame is normal. Really, he is. Jin looks away.

"Oy, Nakamaru," he says. "I need some help here."

It's just a breathless little stab somewhere inside him. Kame bends to put on his shoes, he should get going. He does laces automatically, doesn't need to see them. Nakamaru is busy with Jin, Koki is busy with belts, and Kame even manages, "See you tomorrow," in a relatively normal voice.

All normal is relative now, and it looks like that's never going to change again.

Outside the building he's glad for idol camouflage.  Once he's put some distance between them, he walks into some posh hotel and finds their bathroom, splashes water into his face.

It helps. A bit. He lets himself drop on the leather couch in the cloakroom, and just stays there for a while, getting used to the end of what he's known where no-one can find him.


Shake Me

He gets home eventually. He takes a shower. Puts his clothes in the laundry basket, and it feels good to be wearing something different. Maybe he should go out, to one of the nice celebrity bars he knows. He won't, though. Maybe he'll have a bath.

In the fridge he has some chicken he was going to cook. Maybe he'll do that later. He has some voicemails: Kouji, Erika-chan, Sawada from the surfing group. Nothing urgent but maybe he'll call them back tonight. Or tomorrow.

He wishes Ran-chan wasn't staying with his mom.

He lets the TV run, eats some cup ramen when his stomach insists.

At some point, it's midnight.

He might as well go to bed. It's just hard to move. Or care. Maybe he'll just stay up and let the TV flicker by all night. Maybe he'll be so tired he'll call in sick tomorrow.

Ha ha.

He hasn't moved yet, and is wondering if it would make him feel better or worse to leave the ramen cup on the table like a bachelor slob, when there's a BANG jerking him upright.

His heart is racing. What the fuck?

It comes again, and it's a knock. Someone's at his door.

Nothing was urgent. They'd have called him if something had happened. But he feels his pulse in his temples.

Another knock, more insistent. He's going to get complaints from the neighbors. Tabloid headlines about wild idol parties.

So he goes and opens up.

It's Jin. He hates how his heart does a little skip.

"Hey," Jin says. He's leaning into the wall, baggy jeans rumpled, eyes roaming from Kame to the door to Kame to inside. "You gonna let me in before people talk?"

Does he have a choice? He steps back into his hall, wordless. Jin props himself against the genkan wall with an outstretched arm as he toes off his shoes. He seems as uncoordinated as… earlier. Back then. Hours and changes ago.

"Knew you'd still be up," Jin says, and is that a slur in his voice? "You never sleep enough."

Kame sniffs the air more attentively. Yes, Jin's been drinking.

Jin's tossed his jacket where he always does, and now standing, waiting for Kame to let him further. "So I thought, maybe… well, I was out, right. And then I thought. It's late. But you'd still be up. And there was the train. So here I am."

Here he is.

Jin's breath comes in tequila-soaked heaves. "Can't get into my apartment."

"Why, what's wrong with your apartment?"

"Keys," Jin says, jamming a hand into his jeans pocket. The jeans are baggy further down but snug around his hips, where there's a white studded belt. "They're fiddly." He pulls out his jingling keyring and hands it to Kame.

"How much have you had?" Kame says, but he relents and steps backward, letting them in the living area.

"Oh, some," Jin says expansively. "Not sure. Just, it didn't work. That's why, you know. The train."

The thing with Jin's explanations is, they don't get better than this when he's sober.

"Go sit down, I'll make you some coffee," he says, resigned. That's the responsible colleague thing to do, anyway. "And if you puke on my couch or on my carpet, I'll fucking kill you." It comes out a lot sharper than he meant it and it startles him, but Jin just gives him a slow look, before he turns his head, just as slowly, to locate the couch.

"Sitting," he says when he's there. "No puking." He leans into the upholstery with the elegance of a beautiful drunk and Kame is angry Jin doesn't even look bad when he's a mess and fucking annoying.

He brings over a bucket first thing, anyway.

Jin acknowledges the bucket with an obedient nod. His eyes are following Kame, though; following him in that way Kame thought he was imagining, those last few weeks. Jin's picked the half of the couch that lets him peer into the kitchen and Kame is feeling watched all through handling the coffee.

"Thank you," Jin says when he puts it down in front of him. He stirs some sugar into it and sits back.

Kame sits on the chair; couch sharing seems too 'before'.

"Hope it makes you feel better," he says politely.

"Yeah." Jin stares at the coffee. He turns the spoon in his hands. He's wearing the same tank top and unbuttoned shirt he wore this morning. When he's slouched like this, Kame can see his collarbone. "Something's wrong with my lock, you know. I swear."

"There isn't," Kame says. He should know. "Something's wrong with your coordination."

"Well," Jin says. "Maybe. Just now anyway. Not always."

Kame contemplates the logistics. "Did you even try?" he says, cause it sure didn't sound like it.

Jin leans his head back. Doesn't stop him from looking at Kame. "It never works when I've been drinking." He sighs deeply and gives Kame an innocent pout. "Wouldn't be safe like this anyway. Who'd bring me a bucket?"

"You could keep a bucket by the side of your bed on a permanent basis," Kame says, just to be a hardass and because Jin just swanned in here, when Kame was... watching TV.

"That doesn't help me if I can't get in," Jin says patiently. Utterly illogically. Kame rubs his temples.

"Just drink your coffee," he says because what's the point.

Jin leans forward like that's hard work. He contemplates the coffee. Puts more sugar in it. Then he slumps back again. Taps his fingers on his jeans like he's measuring his coordination. Then he peers up suddenly, his focus shifting.

"Did you see Nakamaru freak out about his belt?" he asks, with a grin so blinding it's like being stabbed in the gut.

"Yeah, I saw," Kame says. His voice is flat and raw and he doesn't even care. "I saw you. And Nakamaru."

The grin drops like stage lights after the show; dark, the end.

"I'm…" Jin says.  And then, "Yeah. That was." He fiddles more with the spoon, some tension in his neck that is at odds with the floppy drunkenness. Kame can hear him breathe in the quiet. "I thought the belt thing was funny," he mumbles. Eventually he meets Kame's eyes again. "Nakamaru isn't half as good with my zippers as you are."

It sounds like such a mix of drunken rambling and bad come-on that Kame can't even feel hurt by the stupid. "Wow, thanks," he says.

Jin blinks, and visibly swallows.

"Drink your goddamn coffee," Kame repeats. "So you can get a fucking move on."

"I came on the last train," Jin says. He's tucked in his sprawl somewhat, and when he's sitting there like that, drunk and guilty and not making a lot of sense, it's an almost physical urge to go and get him a blanket.

"Lucky for you, you're a super famous hot idol, you can afford a cab," Kame says instead.

"You're mean," Jin pouts.

"It's one o'clock in the morning and you're drunk on my couch and I have to work tomorrow, I'm not mean."

Jin's eyes flicker up again. The pout is gone. "Prove it."

"Prove to you that I'm not mean? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Let me crash here," Jin says, all calm for a moment before he drops his head back again. "Taxi isn't safe either."

"How on earth is a taxi not safe?"

"Can't trust the drivers," Jin says simply, and Kame wonders if the media attention since debut has maybe made him paranoid.

The soreness of this whole thing is still churning inside him, and if he had anything else to snap about, he would. But Jin's probably not even going to remember, he realizes. He also realizes he can stay up for another hour trying to argue a drunken Jin out of his apartment, or he can fix up the couch and have the lights out in ten minutes.

"Fine," he says.  "Stay."

Jin doesn't move and still somehow seems to melt into the cushions some more. He shoots Kame a smile, achingly familiar. "Thanks."

In the silence that follows, Kame wonders if he's falling asleep just like that. But his foot is twitching a rhythm; he's not as out of it as all that.

"So are you just going to hang around there?" Kame says. "Cause I could do with getting to bed. You know how the TV works."

"No, wait." Jin sits up, like someone pulled him up by a string. Almost fast, for a drunk guy. "We don't have to go to sleep yet." He fidgets. "I thought it would be nice if we could hang out some. Talk about… " He fidgets some more. "… normal stuff."

Normal. Because Jin is drunk and hopping from one whim to the other, all but liquid on Kame's couch and blinking at him with huge eyes.

"Like what?" Kame says, he doesn't even know why.

"Just stuff," Jin sighs. "Maru chewed up my best pair of socks the other day."

A smile tugs at Kame's mouth, he can't quite help it. "I hope they were clean."

"Clean and folded!"

"Well, you picked him because he was the enterprising one," Kame grins.

"Yeah," Jin sighs again, and it's a content sigh. "He's sure living up to it. How's Ran-chan?"

"Mom says she keeps trying to climb in the bath."

"She likes luxury," Jin says expansively. "You spoiled her with that Prada collar." He takes a breath. "Those jeans, are they Prada too?" His chin points towards Kame's legs.

"They're Saint Laurent," Kame says. "Why?"

"Just… they're cool." Jin's face seems to go a shade darker. "They look good on you," he mumbles, staring at his fidgety fingers.

Kame shouldn't been feeling a glow just from that. They're expensive jeans. Of course they'd look good.

"It's not like you to notice," he says.

Jin shrugs peacefully. "They're nice."

Dogs and socks and jeans, at one in the morning. Half past, almost, now. But it makes him feel good, too, just to be a normal.

A small voice inside tells him not to fall for it again.

Jin probably won't even remember.             

"Okay," he says, "It's time for bed. Let's get the couch made up."

Jin nods solemnly, not moving an inch. Kame doesn't even bother being offended and just goes to get the spare duvet and the sheets and pillowcases. He guesses  Jin wasn't wrong about taking taxis, in his state. He also grabs a t-shirt and boxers; the t-shirt is pink and that makes him smirk.

He dumps all the stuff on the empty half of the couch, and wonders if Jin realizes he will have to move.

"You have all this adult stuff for guests," Jin grins up at him. "Like my mom."

Kame flushes and he doesn't even know why. "Thanks," he snaps.

"Nooo," Jin says, swaying sideways in Kame's direction, hovering just over the sheet pile. "It's a good thing!"

"Yeah, you bet," Kame says. "I won't have you drool on my couch."

"Not gonna drool," Jin says predictably.

Kame pulls the small coffee table away from the couch, and thinks that having to be the responsible adult is annoying, but in a familiar, normal way, a pattern that... isn't bad. "Why don't you take the bathroom while I deal with this here," he suggests, nodding towards the clothes on top of the pile. Jin knows where the guest toothbrushes are, too.

Jin blinks at him slowly. He puts a hand on the t-shirt and boxers but instead of standing, he just pushes himself back against the back of the couch. "Can't," he says. "I need help." He holds Kame's eyes with the shamelessness of a drunk and Kame feels it prickle at the back of his neck.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says, which sums up this whole encounter, too.

Jin's mouth draws together in a pout. He should not look this good pouting. "Buttons are hard," he complains. "You know that. Buttons are harder than doors."

Not a single one of Jin's shirt buttons is closed, that's the point of his outfit, except for the one on his jeans and... Kame wasn't looking there, no.

"Come on," Jin says, now adding a smile. "You're always so good at it. At my buttons. I mean. You know what I mean."

It's a normal, stupid, drunken thing for Jin to do. The flush creeping down Kame's neck is his own problem and how long is he going to stand here arguing over buttons like he's the stupid one?

"Fine," he says, his voice a little thick but Jin is hammered and an idiot and won't notice, so whatever. "If it gets you to shut up faster."

"You are nice," Jin says happily. It's stupid and just like comments on his jeans shouldn't click into his brain and make him feel fuzzy.

He's not sure how much he can actually help with Jin sitting down like that, anyway. As a first step, he takes off Jin's long feather necklace. Jin moves his head forward helpfully, but the leather band catches on Jin's hair anyway, and strands of it brush against Kame's hands.

When he stops to consider, Jin lifts his arm, like a floppy fist threat. The watch. Right.

Kame quickly undoes the buckle and doesn't look at Jin, why would he. His fingertips feel sweaty when they touch Jin's wrist and he almost apologizes out of some reflex.

Jin has that slow dark stare not on Kame's fingers but on Kame. Maybe he's pleased he won some game Kame didn't know they were in. Maybe it's just the booze.

Sleeves next, and he dreads it a bit because that was when things became strange, last time. But Jin was sober last time, mostly at least.

"You have to sit up," he says, and wonders whether Jin's even capable or whether he'll have to haul him around like an overgrown doll.

Jin nods and shifts, and sits pretty straight, considering, but his breath is still like a heat ray on Kame's stomach, he's so conscious of it. He pushes the shirt off Jin's shoulders and down his arms and there's a silent hot laugh when his hands end up trapped by his sleeves. Kame's stomach goes tight and he waits, for the flutter to pass, but then Jin twists his hands the right way, holds still the right way, and Kame can pull the shirt away. Helpful, for a drunk guy.

The tank top sits tight and low and Kame tries to figure out where best to grip while Jin's neck and shoulders and collarbones are so unreasonably attractive. In the end he goes for the bottom hem and just pulls up, avoiding too much touch. Jin lifts his arms obediently and when his hair settles after the slip of the fabric, he's looking up at Kame expectantly. Nothing's weird like last time. It gives Kame the jitters.

But Jin is drunker than last time, too. Too drunk to get into his apartment. So drunk he's lucky he ended up at Kame's, where there's a change in the connection and the times for the last train...

"Thanks," Jin says. He's smiling a little bit. Waiting. Not minding being half naked, with his tan and his scent and his quiet stare...

Where was Jin, even? Roppongi?

"Still needing help here," Jin points out, reasonably, and Kame's eyes dip to Jin's bellybutton and jeans, the studded belt that's edging the shallowest line into Jin's taut stomach. He moves his hands, Jin said it's okay, Jin wants it, wants his help...

He stops, hovering over touch. "How did you manage to get here?"

Jin blinks. The question takes a moment before Kame sees him get it. "Told you," Jin says, a fleeting line between his eyebrows. "I got the last train."

"You're too drunk to get into your apartment, but you found mine?" Kame asks. "And didn't miss the last train?"

Jin's drunk enough that that, too, takes a moment to hit. His eyes flutter down. "I've been here loads," he mumbles, a defensive frown settling on his brow.

"Why did you come here?"

"I told you," Jin complains. "I wasn't gonna be safe on my own." He pushes out his lower lip, and Kame has known that defensive set of his shoulders forever. "I thought you'd be nice."

He's pushing Kame's buttons. Being safe. Running to Kame to be normal. And Jin can push his buttons without trying but now Kame wonders with dizzy awareness if Jin is, in fact, trying.

"How much have you had?" he asks quietly but firmly.

Jin shrugs like he's exhausted with the question. But Kame knows that awkward edge in his movements, too. "Some beer," he says eventually. "Some tequila. Enough."

"How many?" Kame presses. He's very sure all of a sudden that Jin remembers.

He doesn't let Jin look away. Jin is frowning and flushing at the same time, and there's some long Jin thing going on behind his eyes that could come out as stupid or bullshit or lying. He sees Jin swallow, and lick his lips.

"Three beers," he says, lowering his head. "One tequila."

Over a whole long evening. "You're not drunk," Kame says, and straightens up to take a step back but suddenly Jin has his hands, fingers around Kame's wrists and Kame gasps.

The silence stretches into more heat, sweat at the back of Kame's neck.

"If I'm not, will you still help me?"

Kame is rarely speechless, but now it takes a few, breathless beats for his brain to kick back in.


"Because," Jin mumbles, "I'd like you to." He pulls on Kame's hands until Kame lets him move them, and they end up on Jin's belly, Kame's clammy fingers on soft, dry warmth, and Jin gives a little sigh like it's a relief.

He can barely think. His hands would shake but Jin's still holding them down. A little easier, with light strokes up past his wrists but, still, keeping him there.

He can't help thinking of the freak-out and the misery, here he was on his couch moping, and here Jin is on his couch, skin warm under his fingers and a waiting tension all over him...

"You'd like me to help," he says, his voice scratchy, because. "With taking your pants off."

The clarity is a cool drop of air, Jin's shivering. But Jin nods.

Jin isn't drunk.

"You can't say you were drunk tomorrow," Kame says fiercely, frozen with how much he wants to run his hands all over and take that nod and Jin's skin and Jin's stupid moronic maneuvers for yes.

Jin shakes his head against the back of the sofa. Dishevelled and earnest.

Kame slips his fingers down, to the edge of the belt buckle. There's heat there. A bulge in Jin's pants.

Jin is licking his lips again, half tense, half smiling.

Kame feels clumsy with the belt even though nothing catches, nothing takes long. He pops open the jeans button too, and feels sweat break out all over his back.

Jin moves, just a bit, and Kame's fingertips grazing the bulge feel electric. Jin gives a little gasp.

"Hold still," Kame says, for no reason, and carefully, breathlessly, pulls down the zipper; he can feel every link like a prick of heat. "Lift up."

"You're still bossy," Jin smiles, shakily, and obeys. Kame pushes the waistband down carefully to his thighs, then all the way down and Jin lifts his feet out.

Jin's tight black D&G boxer briefs really don't hide much at all, and Kame gulps a little with the constriction of his jeans and the heat in his belly. His hands feel flustered when he puts them on Jin's hips, safely away from anything delicate. He waits a moment, just because.

Jin's eyes are wide when they find his, and he's not breathing. When Kame hooks his fingers into the elastic they almost curl into fists, and he feels the jolt going through Jin. He waits.

Jin lifts up again, just enough to tell Kame to get on with it.

So he does it. Pulls the briefs down at the sides, the back, and finally, carefully gets them past Jin's erection. Jin gives a shuddering breath.

Kame looks, because there's no way he could help looking, but...

"Did you—" He clears his throat, he sounds thin like paper. "Did you want your pyjamas on?"

Jin blinks. "What?"

"Your pyjamas." His throat is so dry, and there is... Jin. Naked. Jin's cock which... "You wanted my help with..."

Jin's face has gone a high color and his breath is shallow, Kame sees, shallow and fast. He's staring wide-eyed at Kame and he's holding himself still, and Kame can almost taste his tension, like he's freaking out only also not running or backtracking.

"No I don't want the pyjamas," Jin whispers.

"Jin," he says, feeling stupid and lost, and it's as far as he gets when Jin's hands snap forward. Take Kame's and pull, put them on his belly just like before.

The tip of Jin's cock is brushing Kame's arms, and that's funny somehow but Kame doesn't laugh.

Jin's eyes are still wide but the scared edge fades the moment Kame moves his fingers, strokes a little. He brushes his hands up, careful, and Jin exhales on another shudder. Good, then. Helping. Kame leans closer and puts a knee on the couch next to Jin. Jin starts nodding.

Kame flushes harder and he's not sure about what. The deliberateness, maybe. Getting closer without moving too fast for what... for what this looks like, and Jin's skin under his hands is ratcheting the heat up. Goosebumps and shallow breaths and nipples and Jin's fingers curling on by his sides.

There's a stutter between them when Kame gives up on standing and gets his second knee on the couch, straddling Jin's thighs, finding his balance with the upholstery dipping. Not sitting down.    Jin nods again, silent and brief and hurried. His breath goes sharper when Kame runs his hands up his chest. As gorgeous as Kame's always known he is and how he's right here and inviting... prompting...

"Jin," he says, voiceless.

"Yeah," Jin says, a hoarse whisper, and he's waiting, willing Kame to lead them, do something, leaving him without a clue about what to even ask...

Jin feels so good it gives him the jitters and the thought races through his mind that if Jin freaks out tomorrow he'll still have this, Jin's smooth hot skin and Jin's eyes not blinking away for a second and Jin's cock standing up between them.

And Jin said he wouldn't, wouldn't pretend. Jin put him up to this.

His fingers skim high, still, not low. Safe past collarbones though Jin shudders anyway, and up Jin's neck. Jin's pulse is right there.

Jin is straight upright, no slump that would leave them distance. He's there for Kame's gaze, every time Kame meets his eyes and his chin lifts a little. Kame's fingers brush circles into Jin's skin, all the wondering and shivering and then he asks what he can't ask, leaning in and putting his lips there, right where Jin's heart is beating fast and warm.

Jin is trembling, a shock that spreads and shakes and suddenly Jin's fingers are in his hair, pressure and direction and he doesn't see much, just Jin's dark curls and their cheeks brushing and then his mouth is on Jin's. He's kissing Jin. Jin is kissing him.

Everything is spinning.

Jin's hands grab his shoulders, his back, pulling and dragging like he's whirled across the room and Jin's mouth is hot and soft and slick, wet with noises Jin is making and Kame's hard breaths.

Jin's back is sweaty, or maybe it's Kame's fingers, or both, they're a clingy ball of heat together. He strokes down Jin's sides, up on his back, Jin's holding him too tight for anything else.

Sometime Jin drops a hand to land on Kame's hip, burrow itself under the t-shirt, and Kame's jeans get too tight for words.

Jin's hand on his skin. Sticky, sliding, grasping, and Kame breaks for air, panting against Jin's mouth. He might come from this. God, what if, does Jin–

Jin's cock is pressed against him, between them, still, all this time, and maybe, maybe he should... or is it too much? How far is too far?

He blinks at Jin, feels Jin's thighs flexing and twitching between his legs, and Jin's eyes are dark and glazed and his hair dishevelled, a line twitching between his brows as he stares at Kame, and he reaches between them, takes Kame's hand. Puts it on his cock. Kame can hardly breathe. He closes his fingers around it and god, hot and firm and Jin, and he can...

He tries a tiny slide and Jin gasps. Jin's arms close so tight there's hardly any space, and Jin's lips are sliding over his cheek, his ear, his neck and Jin's cock is right there in his hand and Kame squirms his elbow out so he can move his hand and feel Jin more and he doesn't know how he'll keep breathing to the end of this.

Jin makes a compressed noise, and there's a fist in Kame's hair, Jin wants to be kissed again.

Kame doesn't know where to focus, to feel, it's all too much and too new, his hand, his mouth, and Jin on his skin… and Jin's cock gets fuller and his mouth, his hands, needier, Kame can't keep up and then he doesn't try, gives in to the demands of Jin's cock and lets Jin suck in his tongue, grope him all over. He speeds up the rhythm, hopes he's doing it right, over and over and his ears are ringing with how good it feels.

Jin is moaning, tensing, his hands grabbing at Kame's hips and then one of them fumbles between them, to push down on Kame's crotch and heat shoots through him. It's all he can do to keep the rhythm, feel Jin's cock get thicker in his hand, and then Jin's whole body stiffening and shaking.

Holy fuck. He can feel it, right there in his hand before the twisting and grinding even gets any of the wetness on him. He just made a guy come. He just made Jin come.

Jin is gulping in air noisily. He's shining with sweat, and his lips are damp and dark. He's blinking at Kame, a tiny smile breaking through the daze and it's the most gorgeous sight Kame's ever seen. Kame kisses him, more gently now, and Jin seems to melt into him.

Maybe he should say something. But he can't think of a single word. It even gives him a funny glow to feel Jin shrinking in his hand but then he doesn't know if that's normal or welcome, so he carefully works his hand out from between them. Jin's stomach is sticky and so is the back of Kame's hand.

Jin pauses on a shallow kiss; grins like he's thinking something, but then he just nips at Kame's lower lip. Kame is burning up in his clothes but he doesn't want to move anywhere, either.

"Are you okay," he says very quietly, against Jin's cheek.

Jin's long exhale puffs against Kame's neck. He feels Jin's nod. "Yeah," Jin says, and his hands are back on Kame's hips, the same answer, balling up heat in Kame's stomach.

"I was surprised," Jin mumbles. "That day with the game. I'm sorry."

Kame nods, ghosting a kiss on Jin's jaw. "You started it." Because it's true.

"I know." Jin is holding on to Kame's jeans, just a little pause. "I surprised myself." Kame feels him swallow but all the touch remains. "I'm still surprised."

Tell me about it, Kame thinks, but turns it into another kiss. Jin is shifting his weight just a little, rebalancing, and nudges Kame's head up. Jin's eyes are still dark, but clear.

"But I'm also not as stupid as you think I am."

Given how they ended up here, Kame wants to argue about that, but then Jin's fingers move very clearly along his waistline and Kame bites his lip instead.

Jin traces his way slowly, deliberately, and he's clearly enjoying how Kame is holding his breath. Then there's the button, and Jin's fingers do a hesitating dance which Kame can feel grazing his belly. There's some pushing and some squeezing and tight caution he can see in Jin's naked shoulders, and Jin swears under his breath. "Fucking buttons," he says, laughing hoarsely. "See, it wasn't all bullshit. Buttons are hard." His face is red again and any other time Kame would pick up the bullshit thread but he's too busy not breathing.

"Do you need help again," he offers feebly, and Jin says, "No," finally getting it done and now he's pulling down the zipper on Kame's jeans very, very slowly. Oh god...

He doesn't know where to look, Jin's focused frown or Jin's hands or the sticky spot on Jin's stomach, and he's so ready and if— god, he really wants Jin to touch him first, before it's too late.

He bites his lip hard and Jin is swallowing as he gets practical and tugs Kame's underpants away and down, and there's cool air and Jin staring a bit and then the heat of Jin's hand, almost more than Kame can bear.

"Careful, I'm..."

"You are," Jin rasps. The first pull makes them both shudder and Jin raises his eyes, and there's something shining in them. He moves his hand and Kame bites down a moan, it's not even tight enough but he's so close, his whole body a trembling mess, and Jin wraps his other arm around him and holds him while his hand takes him higher and closer and panting, noisy, coming like he doesn't remember coming.

He's slumped over, still pulsing. Gasping into Jin's hair.

Jin's hand rubs a circle into the small of his back. So nice. He doesn't ever want to move. His breath is hard like a plea, he doesn't know for what.

Jin gives him time. Or maybe takes his own time, too. Only when Kame feels almost normal again, can almost think again, does Jin let go of him, gently nudges up his chin.

Their lips feel dry, touching, and Kame flicks his tongue over them. Jin's tongue gives a little flick in return.

Kame slings his arms around him again. There's no rush to go anywhere. Jin laughs a little and lets himself fall against the backrest, taking Kame with him.

It's later. Minutes, many. Kame's not sure. But Jin is getting twitchy. Kame can feel stuff drying and getting uncomfortable, and he's aware of his undone pants and Jin being very much naked.

"I'll get up," he promises.

Jin is snickering. It makes Kame laugh a little too. It's not actually funny. Just nice.

He shifts his weight and climbs off Jin, dropping sideways next to him on the couch. Then he awkwardly tucks his junk back in his boxers and does up the evil jeans button.

Jin is squirming a little, and is eyeing the pile of sheets next to him that they never put on the couch. He's beautiful, but Kame also gets that he probably feels a little weird being naked now with his dick on display. "I can get you a towel if you want to shower," he says. What he really wants is to curl into Jin's side and never get up, but that's not super realistic.

"Yeah, guess that would make sense," Jin says, eyes skimming the couch and the pyjamas Kame put out for him earlier. "Still okay if I borrow your stuff?"

"Of course!" Kame says. "And you should probably go first, seeing as you're..." He nods vaguely around, and Jin squirms just as vaguely, and they smile at each other.

"So," Jin says, smile turning lopsided and sneaky. "I'm not allowed to drool on your couch, but jizz is okay?"

Heat shoots into Kame's face. Jin is laughing again. But, well, put like this... "I've my priorities in order," he says bravely through his blush. "Also we mostly got it on you, not the couch."

A nervous pause falls after that, and Kame sees Jin twitch his feet. But then Jin concedes with a sigh, looking almost smooth.

"On that note," he says, lifting himself up. He drops a half-missed kiss on Kame's mouth that Kame realizes is another statement on being cool with come jokes but that nevertheless makes his lips tingle.

Jin disappears into the bathroom.

Kame tidies up. Dumps the cup from the cup ramen which feels like eons ago. Gives strategic parts of the couch a wet scrub. Considers the sheets and thinks, that really doesn't make sense.

Jin comes out in a cloud of damp heat and strawberry fragrance, towel wrapped round his hips and wet hair combed back. Kame's heart gives a tight skip. He could look at him forever.

"I can still make up the couch if you want your own space," he says. "But you've also earned yourself half of my bed if you want." He feels himself blush because he's a little too wobbly to play this as cool as he'd like to. "Warning, though, I'd probably try to make out with you."

Jin makes a face like this is a really hard decision. "What's the likelihood of the making out?"


"Deal," Jin says, a smile breaking out that could stop traffic or the earth's rotation.


Kiss Me

Jin's hands are also pretty wrapped around a coffee mug. Kame watches them sneakily while the dryer rumbles behind him. There's still a jitter in his knees from earlier, waking up next to Jin. Kissing Jin good morning. Good morning kisses leading to good morning touches, and Kame having his second orgasm by way of Jin's hands.

It disturbs Kame a bit, because he can't go around life being turned on just from watching Jin drink coffee.

On the other hand… there are worse things.

Jin looks up at him sleepily, smiling. "What?"

"Nothing," Kame lies. "Are you sure you don't want any breakfast?"

"Yeah, it's fine, don't worry about it." Jin swishes his hand through the air. "I'll buy you a muffin at Starbucks, okay?"

Kame sighs. It seems an unnecessary stop to him but he can't bring himself to argue either. At least it'll get them going faster, or so he hopes. Kame set the alarm to a little later, and then they got held up with good morning orgasms, so...

He fails at shutting off his stupid grin and goes to get himself dressed. Then he fishes Jin's clothes out of the dryer for him. Puts them back down. They didn't wash them, no time, Kame just tried to get the smell of bar and booze out. "Dryer didn't work, your stuff still reeks," he announces. "You can't wear that to work."

"Damn," Jin says without any real feeling. He's still waking up. "You got a t-shirt for me?"

Kame can do better than that. He finds underpants, a baggy t-shirt, and short cargo pants because with those their difference in height doesn't matter.

Jin takes everything and starts dressing, while Kame gets his stuff together.


Kame turns. What now?

Jin holds out the t-shirt. "I can't get dressed. I need help."

Kame blinks at the t-shirt; at Jin's wide, almost innocent eyes.

As if he ever stood a chance. Kame shakes his head. "I should demand some sort of payment for this," he says as he grabs the t-shirt and unfolds the bottom for Jin to slip in.

Jin raises his arms and is at least helpful. Always so helpful. It makes Kame smile despite himself.

He pushes the t-shirt over Jin's arms and head, and watches as Jin's fluffed up hair settles. "You totally should," Jin says, his grin wide and entitled and gorgeous.

Distracting him from the job. Kame feels heat creep back into his face, but he has the pants ready for Jin to step into. Jin's hand balances weight on Kame's shoulder, comfortable warmth, and Jin's knees as he lifts one after the other carefully avoid bumping Kame.  As Jin straightens he tilts up Kame's head, leaving him to fiddle with the zipper blind.

Jin's lips come down on his. It makes Kame feel weak and stupid. "No, really, you totally should," Jin insists, a little daring and a little hot, and there's some red in his face too as his arms sneak tight around Kame's waist. "'cause I'm not cancelling on this service any time soon." His smile is flushed and furtive and he's not half as smooth as he's trying to be, and Kame doesn't fight the hug or the sparks it sends through his body, just loops his arms around Jin's shoulders because he might as well.

"All right then," he mumbles, grinning back against Jin's mouth. "I'll think of something good."