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Lift me to the Sky

by Solo and Jo

So, the world, Kame thinks. Maybe somebody decided to look at a globe.

It's Tuesday. In a fit of inspired timing they were told on a day where they have actual work, a photo shoot with actual designer clothes before Wink-Up and Duet get their turns, and the changing room hasn't been this weird since Kame got paired with Yamapi.

"I see you got the nice tie," Kame says to Koki, past Jin who is sitting on a bench pretending he's unnoticeable in a bright yellow shirt.

Koki is digging through his bag like whatever he's looking for killed his pet rabbit. "My lucky day," he says.

Kame takes a deep breath and shares a look with Yucchi, who's got that expression like he wants to intervene but isn't sure of his UN mandate.

Kame puts on the shoes they gave him. At least they fit. He's not keen on accidental metaphors.

He needed a moment. Or maybe two. And a trip to the toilet where he could stare at the floor for five minutes with no one around just to get it sorted in his head. Now he can think. He's okay.

He peers at Jin from under his bangs. Jin is playing on his phone, pointedly absorbed, and he doesn't look up. Just his eyes going wide when Koki slams the door.

"Let's go," Ueda says after putting down his hairspray. "The sooner we get out of here..."

Jin's thumb is still flicking over the touchscreen, and whatever he's looking at, Kame thinks he can't possibly read that fast.

Junno bounces out of his chair with a certain manic quality. "Time for exit!" he says, but at Ueda's look even he deflates.

"I hate this fucking hair they gave me, I look like a tool," Jin says, to no one in particular, and gets busy stowing away his phone right until everyone is almost at the door. Then he trails behind. When Kame turns to talk to him, he yawns and sulks at the floor.

They have twenty-four hours to decide. Kame thinks it's going to be a long day.


"It's just so American," Koki scowls while they're getting made up for the next shoot. Everyone likes to take advantage of the days when all six of them can get together. "Who cares what your plans might be, just drop everything and come running when we call."

"We do come running," Ueda points out. "They get away with it. They dragged us into the Iraq war, too."

Kame's surprised Jin hasn't bolted yet. Snuck out for smokes as soon as the powder is on, found someone more interesting to be silent at. Instead, he's frowning at a spot in the make-up mirror and driving the girl to distraction, with the way he keeps messing up the invisible lipliner.

"And they're trying to sneak us parts of their mad cows to eat, did you hear about that?" Koki sounds personally affronted.

"They never ratified the Kyoto protocol, either," Yucchi says mournfully, and Kame doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Johnny did agree that it would be stupid to miss the show season over there," he points out. "If we're doing this, we should do it properly."

Jin's very focused on his nails, as if he ever does anything more with them than cut them. Then he leans forward for his paper cup and ruins his lipliner again. "This coffee sucks," he says, and gets up.

"Just don't come back fat," Koki calls out. "We don't need adjusting all your costumes too."

"Can I get the dancing girls this time?" Junno asks, while Jin bitches about the toilets being three floors down and then looks guilty when the AD apologizes in fright.


In between their solo shoots, it's Yucchi who tries. Twice. "It's a really great chance," he says. "We know that." This time Jin actually looks up from the shitty coffee he's drinking again.

"I know, okay? I'm not deaf. It's great. I'm happy." The shitty coffee that you can't drink without tons of sugar, which will make them all fat, according to Jin. "Congratulations."

The others are still out and about, so he gets away with it.

"Nakamaru's right," Kame says, just in case.

Jin looks up, shrugs; casual if you take your cues for casual from a mecha figure. Jin's acting is really something, some days. "Hey, I know," he says, coolly. "It's fine." Fumbles out his cigarettes. Fondles them for a moment, then puts them away. "Where did everyone go?"

"Getting photos taken," Kame points out. He expects annoyance, but Jin just tries another one of those shrugs and ignores him.

"I want to get this shit done."


"We'll be doing lots of our old stuff anyway," Yucchi says over their late bento lunches, perky again. Only Duet to go. "Stuff we already rearranged for 2007."

Jin doesn't look up from the sheet on which he's doodling G-clefs over and over. He hasn't touched his food.

"Yeah," Ueda says. "And some of the newer ones, with the auto-tune, it really doesn't make that much of a difference."

"And you have Sadistic Love with Kame-chan," Koki nods, "so that's going to be fine."

"See, Jin!" Junno claps him on the shoulder and earns himself a glare when Jin scratches halfway across the paper. "We'll be okay. Will be all right. Right?"

They won't sing that song without Jin, Kame thinks.

Jin slaps down his pen, tears the chopsticks apart and starts to shovel rice into his mouth.

Kame reaches across the table to drop his own pickled plum in Jin's dish. He's got a feeling Jin won't simply take it like he normally does.

He gets a nod, but Jin doesn't meet his eyes. Koki and Ueda are debating whether that bit in One Drop should be done by somebody else or if the song is best left out.

"It's kind of boring except for that part, anyway," Kame says. Besides, it hurts his voice and only reminds him of depressing ratings. The only thing he likes about it is bouncing off Jin in the duet part and on reflection, he'd rather not do that with somebody else. "Rescue, though..."

"Uepi can do the high parts," Junno says. "He can squeak like a little mouse." He flashes a bright smile and V-signs at everybody. "Peace!"

Jin covers his eyes with his hand.

"You know, you could help us out here," Koki says to him, and for a moment Kame wonders whether it's starting now, whether this is where he'll have to pull them apart again like the other time. "After all, we're rejigging so you get your chance."

Jin drops his hand and faces him straight-on. "Thanks."

"It's a chance for all of us," Yucchi admonishes. "Just, well, longterm."

"Right now it's Jin's chance," Kame says, "and that's cool, and—"

"—and we can take a cardboard cut-out of him like SMAP did," Ueda says.

"—and if we put a hat and sunglasses on it and just wiggle it occasionally, people may not realize it's not him." Koki reaches out to drop his own pickled plum in Jin's dish, too. "So yeah, we'll deal. Be happy."


By the time they're packing up, Ueda wants to know if Junno got spanked by the girlfriend for his hair and Yucchi wants their opinions if the skit with the pole-dancing is really appropriate for Shounen Club.

Jin is packing up slowly. He squints at Yucchi like he's got thoughts on Shounen Club and poles, but then just rearranges the gadgets in his bag again.

It's an early night off, for them. Some people could go see their girlfriends or boyfriends or go to clubs or go home and finally put on that overdue face mask.

Koki salutes Kame on his way out, shouts, "Bye Mr Sinatra!" backward to Jin. Jin pretends not to hear.

"What's wrong with you?" Ueda says, low but just loud enough for Kame to catch it. "Why are you acting like somebody stole your last cigarette?"

Kame would really like to know that, too.

But when Jin whips round and glares at Ueda, all he says is, "I don't even smoke that much, jerk!", which doesn't make any more sense.

Ueda just shrugs. "You are weird," he says, and leaves.

Jin shrugs, too, and gets back to his dedicated packing.

Kame shoulders his Vuitton bag and, when Jin's eyes snap up, leans easily against the doorframe.

"He's right, too," he says. "And everybody's okay about it. We're not stupid, we know that this is important. You can't pass it up."

"I know. I'm fine." Jin pulls his hair back and ties it up roughly with a red elastic band, then pulls his knit hat down over his ears. "I just want to get the fuck out of here."

Kame follows him at a safe distance, but he still hears when Jin steps out of the main doors and pulls his shoulders in like he's been shoved.

"It's raining."


There's a boring rhythm to the cars going the other way and a boring caution to Kame's driving, and Jin is restless and bored just looking out at the cars, zap-zap.

"I hated that costume," he says. They wore a silly thing for the Duet shoot. Nakamaru had a better outfit. He thinks Nakamaru was kind of short with him. When Jin complained about the outfit.

"It wasn't so bad," Kame says, overtaking some truck that is powered by a jogging granny, or something. Or else Kame would never get past with that snail's pace he's driving. Sometimes Jin is glad nobody knows about them. It would be embarrassing, the way Kame drives.

Something is squeezing his chest together, something that feels like tentacles. Cold and scary. It's creepy.

He blinks out at the cars. They could zap a little faster.

"Do you want me to..."

Jin blinks some more before he looks over. He's cool. "What? Do I want what?"

Kame only takes his eyes off the road for a second. Would probably be unsafe to look at Jin. "Never mind," he says. "I'm taking you to my place."


They order pizzas. Jin takes what he always takes and Kame takes something that has eggs on it and that's so gross, Jin can't even begin.

There's beer on the counter, but it's probably not cold, and Jin doesn't think he'll like it. He sits down on the couch instead and zaps through channels.

It takes forever for the pizzas to arrive. Forever that Kame is emptying his dishwasher and moving stuff around in the kitchen without saying anything, and Jin is pretty sure he's done nothing to deserve that.

Kame looks slightly surprised when Jin throws the remote down. Even more surprised when Jin accuses him of sulking.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. "Elaborate on my shelving system?"

"No, I know your shelving system, you've gone on about it enough, thanks." That cold squeezy feeling is back, and it's not even because Kame is stingy with the radiators.

Kame shuts up and Jin stares at the TV again. It got stuck on some baseball thing. Great.

A moment later, he can hear Kame switch off the kitchen light. He's got equipment with him; a knife for Jin and a knife and fork for Kame because that's how they prefer to cut their pizza, and he puts a bottle of beer in front of Jin. "You should take it," he says.


Like some broken record. The one playing in Jin's brain, and in Kame's voice it doesn't get any less annoying and tuneless.

"I know," Jin says. "I'm not stupid." He takes the beer because it's what you do when someone puts one in front of you. He doesn't know why Kame is still standing there. "Are you waiting for something?"

Kame sits down. "No. Well, our pizza."


"We know this didn't come from you," Kame says. "We all know. Nobody's holding it against you."

Jin stares at the beer. He likes beer, normally. He likes Kame, normally. He likes his job. Sometimes.

Kame knows that, too.

"Yeah, okay," he says. "It's cool. I mean, that thing. It's great. I'm excited."

"Jin," Kame says. "Seriously. Even if it had come from you. You should take it. I mean, we'll miss you on the tour—"

"—shit," Jin says. But he says stuff like that all the time, in English, so it's not a big deal. He doesn't even need to know if Kame is offended.

Kame is draped back over the arm of the couch and watching him with those deep eyes he gets, like suddenly he's ten years older. Snuggling up to the cushions, or whatever.

Jin is twenty-five years old. He has dreams and ambitions. And this is it, this is what it was for, all the arguing with five other people over rhythms and butting into the songwriters' business and feeling like the dumb kid in class in California back then, and always running up against the limits of an agency. For years.

It just should be better. It should shine. And now—

Kame gets up suddenly.

"Where are you going?" Jin asks, because there was a strange drop in the air and he hasn't even said anything.

"I think that's our food," Kame says. He leans down, and then, like some weirdo, like some freaky guy doing freaky stuff, kisses Jin on the top of his head. "Just stay here. Don't move."


Jin doesn't like the pizza. He doesn't know why exactly, because it's his favourite, and he doesn't know why Kame seems to be so interested in whether he likes his pizza or not. He puts the slice down and frowns.

"Not good?" Kame asks. He sounds like he's laughing, or is thinking about laughing, as if that would help anybody or Jin's flabby pizza.

"It's fine," Jin says. He can't say what's wrong with it anyway.

He eats half of it, then takes a drink of the beer and then he thinks of Johnny, old and wrinkled and acting like he knows what Jin's always wanted, which he does, and like he knows Jin never cared about KAT-TUN, which isn't as true as they make it sound behind his back.

"Do you want something else to drink?" Kame. Friendly. Like just another night at his place, Jin staying over, Kame humouring the unhealthy eating and unproductive hours that work for Jin.

This pizza sucked. He'll tell Kame not to go with that service again. He also should have brought some clothes. He didn't even think that far.

"Okay," Kame says. "This has been informative."

He sits up and flips the pizza boxes shut. He's cool, organised. He'll put away leftovers next and make sure nothing that can grow hairs or living beings will be left out overnight. Kame is boring and dependable.

"I didn't bring my stuff," Jin says. "Like, clothes. I don't know if... I mean, I left it all at home. I should maybe..."

Kame is standing right in front of him, and totally ignoring the leftovers. "You're kind of kidding yourself if you think you're not leaving enough stuff here to fill half a wardrobe," he says, and holds out his hand. "But you're not needing those clothes anyway."

Jin stares up at Kame, Kame's hand, and thinks there's nothing wrong with his clothes, he looks fine in the hoodies and cargo pants he likes, he looks totally like a serious star. "Why?"

"Because we're going to bed." Kame flexes his fingers, like a prompt.


Jin doesn't feel very sexy taking off his clothes and he doesn't feel very tired either. He'd complain, normally, because Kame is being cryptic and bossy and not even trying to seduce him, just assumes that Jin will want to sleep with him on the night of the day where he got offered L.A. and the chance of a lifetime.

Jin feels weird when he's mostly naked, standing there, and Kame is getting the lights all over the apartment. Weird, like he got dropped on the wrong film set. Like he shouldn't be so glad when Kame gets right in front of him and slides his fingers deep into his hair, and his tongue into Jin's mouth before Jin has finished the thought.

It makes his head fuzzy, twists him upside down when his mind's already full with chances and choices and the cold air, and now Kame is holding him, holding him still as if his lips weren't urgent.

Kame with his stronger shoulders and the grown-up eyes, experience of years in his touch. Jin doesn't even know what to do with his hands anymore. "Why are you kissing me?" he asks, when he can.

Kame tilts his head. Jin knows for a goddamn fact he's heard him fine. Gets him fine. "Why shouldn't I kiss you?"

There are a million things to say, things that'll make it look like he's totally together and just humouring Kame by staying close, like it's got nothing to do with Kame feeling solid like a fucking wall. "I thought you'd be mad."

"Yeah," Kame says, and slides his hands into Jin's boxers and over his ass, and Jin feels everything skip and plunge. "You're not doing so well with the thinking."

But Jin's not stupid. He's not letting Kame call him stupid. He needs a moment, to get past Kame stripping him down and pushing him back until the bed presses against his calves and he has to sit down, and then he says, "You were mad last time." And, "So you're saying what? That you're not mad? That you're not acting kind of weird?"

He stares up for another humouring answer, but Kame is just standing there, naked, immovable, and Jin feels a lonely chill on his back and like he's just not following. Like in that meeting, always running after the facts. "Jin. That was a totally different thing."

"It's six months, and I'll be in California, and I'm not in the tour and..."

Kame doesn't look like some weightless frightened nutjob now. Jin... he doesn't think that will happen, not even in six months, but that's not enough to make it different.

"Come on," Kame says under his breath, offhand like a stage instruction and Jin follows like he's a junior again and when he's got himself back on the bed, Kame is kneeling over him. "It's different. And nobody hates you." He bends down for a kiss and this one turns bruising, makes Jin gasp and press flat into the mattress. "But you don't get to fuck American girls this time."

Jin is shaking his head. "I can't figure you out," he says, with lips that feel thick and flushed. "Why are you being so—"

"Nothing there to figure out," Kame says, shaking his head too but it's different, calm and kind of infuriating though it's probably good Kame doesn't seem ready to lose his shit any time soon. "You figured me out way back."

"You can't tell me—"

"Shut up."

This sucks. Jin is stinging all over, from that stupid thing and stupid timing and Kame's thighs settling on each side of him. He doesn't know what he's disagreeing with anymore, just that he can't understand where Kame gets off pretending that this is easy.

Smiling at him.

Dry hands, brushing over Jin's shoulders and his collarbones, knowing just how to touch to make it nice not freaky. He hears his own breath, deep and bracing, he should...

The hands slide up, up until Jin is stretched out with his hands over his head and Kame leaning over him, his face shadowed softly by his tangled hair. "Seriously," Kame says.

Not fair, Jin thinks. Not fair of Kame to go all smug and smart just because Jin is having a complicated day. And then Kame's mouth is warm on his shoulder, a soft touch moving down. Jin blinks fast with his skin running cold, a shiver releasing.

"What are you doing?"

It's a stupid, stupid question. And he was supposed to shut up.

But Kame merely pauses, doesn't go away. "Saving my breath too," he says. "Got better things to do. Since you're not really listening either."

And then he's moved down, fast and efficient like those times when Jin can't wait and is rushing him on, and Jin can't find a protest for Kame's accusation before Kame is licking his lips, and pushing Jin's legs apart for more room, and then Kame's mouth is closing around him and his words fade to nothing.

He hadn't noticed he was hard.

Jin makes a dull sound, arching up from the dizzying pull. He shouldn't get distracted, with all this stuff to ask and explain and Kame's wrong, Jin's listening fine and he should... but he can't think when Kame... does that thing with the swirl, and the hum, and gets Jin's brain messed up even more than it was, and maybe it's better just to let it go, for now. Not for long.

He lifts into Kame's wet touch and Kame makes a satisfied noise that goes right into Jin's bones, and he pushes up again, for more.

He knows how this is going to go; and Kame will laugh at him afterwards, a fond laugh, and call him easy, because Kame doesn't realize that none of this is easy even if Kame acts like it is, because Jin's the one who's running away again and leaving everybody else to pick up the pieces. And Kame's fast, so fast, like he doesn't need to breathe and god, it's good like that, like there's nothing else but Kame sucking him and taking him higher and knowing him, like nobody else, and Jin balls his hands into fists and goes with the blind need, giving up thought for fast greedy jerks and Kame moaning around him—

He strains high, the heat flowing everywhere, leaving nothing but shivers. The world is dark behind his eyelids. He takes long breaths to come down, feels Kame's hands at his sides. Stroking, petting. Soothing.

His eyes feel tired when he opens them, his mind pulsing fuzzily.

Kame slides up, settling on top of him with his chin on Jin's chest. Jin can't tell what he's thinking, except they seem like peaceful thoughts. Or maybe that's the slowness of his brain.

He pulls his arms in at last, feeling gawky and stiff like they've been tense for hours, not minutes.

So easy.

When he touches Kame it's light, cautious. Smooth skin, sharp bone underneath.

It wasn't easy then, no matter what anybody said, and it's harder now, and he honestly doesn't know whether Kame being nice about it makes it better or worse.

Kame sighs deeply. He frowns up, with his chin poking Jin's chest and turning ticklish when he speaks. "And here I thought you were feeling better."

Where Kame gets the idea that he's the one who deserves pampering is beyond him. He's the one who's getting to chase his dreams, leaving a mess behind, and Kame is the one who will have to clear it all up.

And even if, at this late stage, he said he'd rather have gone on tour with the band, nobody will ever believe him. He's talked about L.A. too often.

"I am feeling better," he says to Kame. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

Kame stares at him, in a way that's kind of uncomfortable. "I see." He props himself up a little more, so his chin no longer pokes Jin's breastbone, and also so he's looming above, his shadow falling over Jin. "You're going to be difficult about this."


Kame sits up. "I am feeling better," he says in a ridiculous falsetto which totally doesn't sound like Jin's voice. "You didn't have to do that."


"I am not worthy, I am not worthy!"

"What the fuck, I never said anything about—"

"Spread your legs," Kame says, voice deep now and silky and just like himself when there's no point arguing.

Jin bites his lip and wriggles, and... he's just come. Hearing Kame like that shouldn't tingle like this.

He spreads his legs. Kame moves in, all smooth skin and confidence. Jin smiles, and brings his feet together behind Kame, and his hands on Kame's shoulders, and he's still the stronger one, and Kame topples forward nicely.

He pulls Kame in for a kiss, which Kame takes over again, makes it hot and deep and unrelenting, and when Jin slides his hands all the way down to his ass, Kame grinds against him and yes, he's hard too, and okay, that will be good, if Kame wants that… or something else, Jin should ask.

"What do you," he starts, stroking over Kame's ass, then teasing at his sides, "what do you want to do," asking the same question with his body, pushing against Kame and straining up for more kisses, ready for anything. No, it's not a bad idea, getting close like this when everything feels uncertain. Jin should be grateful Kame has these sorts of ideas.

"You, I think," Kame says, "eventually," while Jin presses his face into Kame's neck and rolls them over a little, because suddenly he feels he's not touching Kame enough.

Kame stops them when they're lying on their sides facing each other, when their legs have to cling and their arms wrap more tightly so they don't fall apart. It's close, and warm, and Jin pushes against Kame's hip, not just to find that little jolt for himself but to be there for Kame to do the same.

"Hm," Kame murmurs into his ear, and then he puffs a little to get rid of a strand of Jin's hair in his face. Jin finds a laugh, and pushes forward again, and Kame responds and soon they have a rhythm, leisurely still, the way they like it on the mornings after a live or when filming has run sadistically late... the way they won't, for half a year, because Jin won't be at the lives and Kame won't have him to rub against and purr like he's doing right now, or to unwind him when he's all tense over ratings and rumours and...

"You're slowing down," Kame says. "It's impolite to get distracted."

And then Kame's hand is on Jin's dick, moving fast and sure just like his tongue earlier, waiting that tiny moment each time for Jin to need more, making him work for it, and maybe that's good, he'll have to stay focused, not think of lonely nights and missed phone calls and Kame thinning out from the world...

Kame leans back, pushes his shoulder down and his face into the sheets, and Kame is spreading over him, still holding on, hand between Jin and the sheet and his fingers going tight, tight and sure. He's heavy; weirdly so, but Jin thinks of all the ways Kame has grown and grown stronger and then he stops thinking because he's never quite felt it like this before; weight all over him, warmth all around him and nothing he'll do wrong as long as he lets it shield him like this.

A hot palm comes down on his neck, holding, caressing. Kame's cock presses against him for a dizzying moment when Kame shifts up to nuzzle his ear. "You're going to take the contract," Kame says.

"I—" Jin starts, and stops when Kame's hips push him into that tight grip, and he gasps.

"You will," Kame says, and repeats the movement, and Jin's already hoping the next time will come before the shiver subsides.

"Why?" he asks, muffled by the mattress.

"Because..." and god, Kame is starting to punctuate his words with little thrusts, "...you... are... not... dumb."

He feels dumb, dumb and crazy; and he wants to say how people thought him worse than dumb last time, good people, and he knows he should argue except Kame's hand goes tight in his hair, holds him still for a searing, tender kiss on his neck, and the strokes underneath move into steady.

"You're going to take the contract." Kame's breath, so hot, and Jin wants to move except if he does he'll lose this warmth, feel naked in his skin. "And then you're going to come back to me," Kame whispers. "Because nobody else makes you feel like this."

Jin shakes his head, carefully so Kame's grip doesn't pull too much. Just enough for Kame to feel how right he is.

"And now you're going to stop thinking, and I'm going to make you come."

Jin lets out a moan, dull from the mattress, but noise doesn't count. Okay. Kame's call. Kame's the one... no, no thinking. Nothing. Just that grip and Kame's heat. Kame's hand and his dick, and that pressure from above, behind. Nothing else. Jin goes with it.

And when he's finally getting fuzzy, he moves his legs apart, makes it so Kame's steady thrusts feel like pushing him open, and he loses track of time, track of everything, just that tiny space he's moving in and Kame keeping him there, stroking him off, Kame's hand steady forever and the mouth on his neck, until it goes fast and sharp and demanding and on and on, until he comes pressed against the sheet, spilling incoherent mumblings under Kame's weight.

He's still floating when Kame starts shifting around, and then the pressure lifts and Kame lies down at his side and pulls him in. So it stays warm. He's not being abandoned.

They're facing each other, but close, and Kame pulls Jin's head against his shoulder, rubs warm wide circles into his back. It feels great. As if everything is all right.

They stay like that for a long time, Jin's body calming down, his thoughts settling into shapes. Just the touching and the close embrace, Jin keeping his eyes shut. Not doing anything. Jin's not even taking care of Kame. Maybe Kame thinks he will fall asleep.

"Better now?" Kame asks softly.

Jin presses his lips together. Stupid things might come out, things to do with Kame holding him close like this and time zones and English and the beach and sprinkled donuts. And the way Kame's kiss feels, echoing through his whole body on the most modest of touches.

Their eyes meet afterwards. Kame strokes a thumb over Jin's cheek.

"Why are you being nice about it?" Jin asks. "I thought we'd have a fight."

"Because you're not believing me. I told you in the office. I told you in the car. Why do you want to have a fight?"

Jin frowns. It's difficult, with exhaustion sanding the edges off his worry and loneliness. "Because..." Because then he'd know.

When he can't say it, Kame kisses him again instead, slow like Sunday afternoons, slow like when sex was great and worries can wait forever. "It's really okay," Kame says, like before. "And it's not your fault."

Jin lowers his eyes. He wants to hide his face again, to not have to look at all this. But that would be pathetic. "We didn't have a fight last time either," he mumbles.

Kame sighs, very deeply but not really impatient. "Jin..."

Jin doesn't look up. He can feel the thoughts in Kame, some cute, some mocking, and his body is too slack and this is too nice to have a fight now, but he wishes Kame would say more.

Kame's hand is on his shoulder and then, slowly but confidently, Kame rolls him on his back. Slides his hand down to Jin's belly, flat and hot and Jin sucks in a breath just from the intent in Kame's eyes.

"Um," Jin manages.

"I thought you'd be past freaking out now," Kame says. "Most days you wouldn't even still be awake."

"Hey," Jin protests feebly, but he doesn't care about the tease. His voice drops. "It's not most days."

"No," Kame admits. "But why do you think I wouldn't tell you the truth? Why do you think..." He's smiling, a little. "Why do you think I wouldn't have a fight if I thought it deserved one?"

Jin thinks. The kind of thoughts that will get him in trouble.

And Kame's eyes narrow, then soften, so suddenly it's like skipping ahead to another chapter in the Kame book of maturity, and Jin's missing out on the info in between, or something.

"This isn't like then," Kame says. "And I'm not, either."

"I don't want it to be," Jin breathes, which means nothing unless they manage it too.

"It won't," Kame says. "I'm really sure." He sounds so confident, like he knows every truth Jin forgot over the years. And his hand sneaks lower, where Jin is spent and tender and the first brush makes him quiver.

But Kame's hand moves on, and down, just the right way, and Jin shifts to open up for him, closes his eyes and hears the quick fumble in the bedside drawer while Kame's knees come under his thighs and tilt him upward, just a little.

He looks again even though his lids are heavy now; at Kame naked and glorious and hard, smiling at him. At the glistening drops of lube, Kame getting himself slick with a cautious hand, his erection straining against his own touch. Jin's made him wait pretty long, with his issues and half-formed apologies.

"Don't fuss, just..." Jin says, and Kame knows what he means. There's a brief, deliberating glance, and then Kame moves forward.

It's sharp this way, the fast stretch and slip, Jin's welcoming breath when Kame sinks deeper, all the way home. And waits, for Jin to nod, even though they both know this is fine, this isn't new.

Waits longer, and Jin gets that, too, Kame finding his own balance so it's not over too soon. Jin stays very still, concentrates on Kame thick inside him, on steadying hands on his hips. He's still held like this, and nothing drives misery from his mind like that look on Kame's face, like Jin is still the best thing to happen to him and he never wants to take his eyes off him.

When Kame starts moving, it's steady, too; nowhere near as urgent as it should be, not the pace of somebody who's been hard forever, but strong secure strokes, the kind... the kind Jin likes, the kind that gets him off if only Kame finds the angle, and...

Kame shifts, minutely; finds the angle and Jin shivers, weak and prickling all over.

"God," he gets out on the next one, his hips jerking into it and his bones all liquid. "You're kidding, right? I'm not... oh god. I'm not in school anymore. I don't think I can manage..."

Kame keeps it up, just smiles. "We'll see," he says peacefully, though his face is shining with sweat, and why isn't he... why doesn't he just—

"Seriously," Jin gasps, "don't hang around for me."

Kame makes that face like he's calculating how long they'll need for a costume change, and Jin shudders from the next deep stroke, and Kame nods. "Okay."

The next one drives them up on the sheets and Jin reaches up, bracing them against the wall, a strain on tired muscles but he knows that's it, that's all he has to do, lie open and take it. Kame likes it fast, much faster than Jin but Jin can hold on and he can get so high on it, the speed and the force and the naked power in Kame taking what he needs.

It's enough to turn him on again some days. Enough to pull the world in close and make it small, dim, burning in focus.

Kame's hands are under his hips, urgent now and pulling him in, and Kame's eyes close in concentration, his hair wild and sweaty like the thrusts, and there's nothing better than this, and then Kame stills, and just breathes, and Jin smiles.

He reaches out and pulls, and after a tiny moment, Kame lets himself drop forward into his embrace.

He doesn't want to miss this. He doesn't want to miss another turn, ever again; wake up one morning and discover Kame's learned French or grown shoulders or a sense of humour or anything. He feels his throat close and knows it's dumb, it's fucking dumb and why won't his brain shut up about it for five minutes, is that too much to ask?

Kame stirs, says, "What?" and Jin realizes he must have sighed or something.

"Nothing," he says. "This is nice."

A beat. "Oh man," Kame says.

Jin's long believed that Kame can read his mind sometimes. It's inconvenient. This would be one of those times.

"You're a lot of work, Akanishi Jin," Kame says, still muffled against Jin's neck, still loose and easy from orgasm. "Bit of a bad time for your brain to suddenly start showing for duty."

Jin manages a grin which Kame can probably feel against his forehead. His arm pulls tight around Kame's middle. "You complain when I don't use it. Can't win, can I?"

"Hm," Kame says. "Can't have those inexperienced brains stumbling around in the wild."

Jin knows he should be offended. Thump Kame, or pull his hair or something. But he can't.

"So," Kame says. He shifts and Jin twitches a little at the slippery feeling when they come apart. "Let me pick this up where I left off."

Where he... "Huh?"

Kame smiles, a little woozy still but Jin can see the strength behind it. "I wasn't finished with you yet." He holds Jin's eyes as he sucks a finger into his mouth.

"I, um. Don't think..." But he doesn't get further, doesn't get beyond letting Kame nudge him and shift him and choking on a noise when Kame's fingers slide inside him.

"You..." He can't think; he doesn't know what he's thinking anymore. Kame's crazy.

"Just go with it," Kame says, and he sinks down, close as he can. Damp and sweaty; shining where his muscles work.

Jin sinks back. Goes with it. After a while he stops swallowing the sounds; he's got no room in him.

It's not urgency. Too much, too long for that. It's shiver after shiver, running through and across, swirly in his limbs, his stomach dipping when Kame starts to stroke him too.

Slowly, like there's no rush. He takes a while to get really hard, before Kame makes it tighter and Jin gives up another moan, the ripples spreading everywhere.

He feels Kame watching him, but he can't look. He wants to help, wants to make a rhythm but he's losing even that. Losing his thoughts. Like Kame wants.

He forces his eyes open, blinks down over thick pitiful breaths.

Kame is smiling. Curling his fingers just like that; making him jerk and holding him steady. Again. "Just trust me," Kame says. "I meant it. Believe what I say."

He wants to; god, he wants to, wants to stop the fretting and useless circles and he wants the next slide fast, Kame's hand pushing close, and he wants to come and leave it to Kame to pick up what's left.

Kame will. Kame wants him to.

He goes for it; no focus but that, his eyes shut to darkness; Kame's hands in his mind, the slick grip he keeps straining for, naked and spread and trusting Kame, and Kame trusts him because he will come back, and they will be like this always, always—

He feels when it tips, running together from everywhere and pooling hot, long seconds of endless helpless warning, and when the rush comes at last he's without air, without anything. Just pieces. Just a mess. He says Kame's name.

"Right here," Kame says, and he is. Taking time to slow down; the kind of fading caresses inside him that would make Jin blush if he cared. He smiles.

"You're crazy," he says, raspy and thin and Kame doesn't say anything funny even though he could.

He closes his eyes while the lingering touches end and Kame... does stuff. Gets the blanket they pushed off and lies down, and then bundles Jin up against him. Jin presses in as close as he can, not caring about his weight, just not caring. Kame holds him there even when the strength of Jin's arms gives in. No energy left, nowhere inside him. As if the thing that kept him tense and tight since this morning and just wouldn't let go is finally gone.

He doesn't have to move, do anything. He doesn't think he could. He feels crumpled up, soft like tissue and heavy as stone. Kame is petting him, stroking the base of his neck.

"I want to go," Jin says; whispers, but Kame can hear him. Everything is curled here in this warmth. "I've been dreaming about it for years."

"We all want you to go," Kame says, almost whispering himself. "I told you."

Yes. He did.

Jin moves one arm, clumsy like he's drunk. But he doesn't have to fumble for long, Kame finds his hand, and they come to rest again.

"Who knows..." Jin says after a while, dreamily.

"Maybe one day we can all go," Kame says. Jin can hear he's smiling. "Do concerts there too."

"Yes." Jin's too out of it to think it through. But in his mind there's a shower of blue and red, six voices bursting out of speakers, worldwide for real; the shine of a hundred lights on Kame, speaking broken English, the audience going wild. "I'd like that a lot."


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