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Sight, Again

Link to Masterpost

The first things Yamapi is able to see are blurry outlines. When the sun shines in his window, he can distinguish exactly where Jin lies sleeping on the bed, can make out the general fall of Jin’s long red-brown hair and the low-slung sketch of his sweatpants. Yamapi rises on one elbow and squints down at Jin, his eyes adjusting to the sudden return of blessed vision.

Yamapi feels like the return of his vision is much like the beginning of his relationship with Jin, slowly illuminating and unfolding despite the autumn chill.

Every time he can feel Jin next to him, he turns and looks and the image becomes a little clearer, a little sharper.

They are hesitant to touch now, almost as if they’ll break the magic that binds them if they rush into things, and Yamapi is overwhelmed with the return of his sight, anyhow, right on time according to his doctor’s predictions. With that comes migraines and overloads, and sometimes Yamapi has to just sit in unlit places to keep himself sane. After so long in the dark, the light is almost too much, but it’s perfect, because he doesn’t lose his other enhanced senses, and this might be the best he’s ever seen the world, with all five senses. His head aches constantly, but it’s worth it, he thinks.

Jin never hesitates to touch him then, laying a wet washcloth on Yamapi’s forehead and singing soothingly into his ears as Yamapi lies in a low-lit room, wrestling with the pounding in his head.

It’s not sexual, just relaxing and comfortable, and there’s an undercurrent of later in every action that makes Yamapi’s heart swell, because Jin isn’t going anywhere now.

Jin leans over him, looking into his eyes with wonder. “It’s like they just turned back on,” Jin says, and Yamapi laughs and reaches up, to finger a lock of Jin’s hair. “When did you dye it red again?”

Jin purses his mouth thoughtfully. “December, maybe? I don’t remember.”

“I like it,” Yamapi says in response. “In my head, all this time, I’ve been thinking of your hair as black.”

“When I was in Los Angeles, I kept imagining your hair as that dirty blonde color, with that awful curly perm. When I got back, and saw you for the first time, it was like all my dreams had been shattered.” Jin chuckles, and Yamapi had forgotten how Jin’s eyes sparkle when he laughs, or the way his jaw comes forward.

He can’t take his eyes off of him, and maybe he never could.

***

Miles is a beautiful dog, and Yamapi is surprised, because Jin picked him, and Jin always picks the most hideous animals to love and bring home.

As he pets Miles, he wonders if he should find a new home for him, somewhere where he can be used for his original purpose, where his training will be necessary.

But as he runs his hands through the golden fur, he can’t think of possibly giving Miles away, because Jin gave him to him, and because he loves Miles, almost as much as he loves…

And Miles loves him too, he knows, because when Yamapi is home alone, counting down the days until he can go back to the studio, Miles pads softly into his bedroom and jumps up on the bed, curling up into Yamapi’s side until he falls asleep.

Sometimes, when he wakes up again, Jin is nestled on the other side of Miles, hand tangled in a handful of Miles’ fur, clutching it tight in sleep, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Sometimes, when he wakes up again, and Miles is looking at him with those big chocolate eyes, demanding to go outside, Yamapi thinks if Jin were a dog, he’d be just like Miles.

That’s when he knows he’ll never let Miles go, just like he won’t let Jin go.

***

Tegoshi is beaming at him, and his skin is even darker than Yamapi remembers. “Leader, we missed you!” He squeals. Tegoshi’s camera personality is fake, but there are little parts that come from reality, like his cheerfulness that makes the whole room a little brighter. “Doing variety shows isn’t nearly as fun without you.”

Yamapi grins, and Ryo scoffs. “Whatever. Can you go be blind again? Vacation was AWESOME.” Ryo isn’t looking at him, so Yamapi knows that’s Ryo’s way of saying he was bored as hell, and he’s glad Yamapi is back.

Koyama is glowing, a little, and he sidles up to Yamapi and lays his head on his shoulder, while Shige quietly grins and Massu, who looks even more buff, lingers in the background with his steady smile and calm eyes. “Leader, it was lonely,” Massu says.

This is home, too.

“So, are you all okay now?” Ryo asks gruffly. “You’re not just here pretending everything is fine because Johnny set you a deadline, right?” Ryo crosses his arms, looking small and fierce.

Yamapi surveys their faces, all waiting for his answer. He thinks about Jin, who greeted him with a soft brush of his hand against his shoulder this morning when they met in the kitchen, and the bite of eggs he stole from Jin’s plate. He thinks of the bright white of the snow outside, and the peek of green through the fluffy groundcover from the small pine trees next to the office. He thinks about the steady bass beat blaring in the room next door and the smell of hairspray that permeates the room where they stand.

“I’ve never been better,” he says, and it’s true.

***

“I’m thinking of taking Miles and volunteering with blind kids,” Yamapi says to Toma, and Toma chuckles over the phone.

“That’s a great idea, but where are you going to find the time?”

“I’ll make the time,” Yamapi says. “I’m a Johnny: I survive on techno beats, adrenaline and lip gloss—sleep is a luxury I’ve lived without before.”

“I feel like you’re quoting something,” Toma says, “but it’s so true.”

“I’m quoting Jin,” Yamapi tells him, and Toma laughs even harder.

“Jin’s always had a way with words, right?” Toma says sarcastically.

“Yeah,” Yamapi says, and he feels like a schoolgirl as he twirls hair around his finger and tries not to give anything away in his voice. But Toma somehow knows anyway.

“Oh my god, you are totally into him,” Toma says, and Yamapi wonders when they regressed back to high school, but he doesn’t mind because his heart is skipping so fast it trips over itself.

“…Yeah,” Yamapi says, and then his heart grows wings.

***

“I made this for you,” Jin says, handing him a heavy shoebox. “Or, well, collected it.”

They are standing in Yamapi’s room, Jin shifting back and forth anxiously. Yamapi smiles, because now he notices the way Jin’s hands rub against the pockets of his jeans, and sees the way his eyes shift to the side in nervousness. He drinks in every detail of Jin, every moment he can.

“What is it?” he asks, and Jin grins at him earnestly.

“Open it.”

Yamapi lifts the lid of the shoebox, and inside are hundreds of Polaroid pictures, dated in Jin’s messy scrawl. Pictures of Yamapi, of Miles, of Jin making stupid faces. Pictures of their apartment. Pictures of Ryo giving the camera the finger, and of Koyama smiling shyly and waving. A picture of Shige scowling at Jin, probably for some ridiculous comment about his hair, and a picture of Jun laughing, his large nose taking up most of the frame. A picture of Rina smiling shyly, and a picture of Kusano sticking his tongue out tauntingly, eyebrows knitted together.

And also pictures, hundreds of them, of the world. Pictures of the fall turning to winter, of red and gold leaves littering the ground in their autumn splendor.

Yamapi presses the shoebox to his chest with one hand, and digs through the pictures one by one with the other, his eyes opening wider and wider with each one, until he looks up at Jin in awe.

“It’s just, you couldn’t see,” Jin explains in a rush, “and I didn’t want you to miss anything.” Jin looks embarrassed, like he isn’t beautiful and amazing and perfect to Yamapi in this moment, and maybe in every moment; like he isn’t everything that Yamapi has ever wanted or needed.

Yamapi looks at Jin, wordless, and then suddenly he drops the shoebox and the pictures scatter across the floor. Yamapi reaches out to Jin and lightly grasps his wrist, and then Jin is directly in front of him.

Jin fills his eyes, and his heart, and he wants.

It’s unbelievably easy, to kiss Jin again, even though that haven’t kissed since that one night, three weeks ago, when he saw Jin without his eyes for the first time. Jin’s mouth fits against his like it has always belonged there, like they are two halves of a whole that long to be reunited. The feelings bubble up inside of him, and they burn him, and they freeze him, and they make him feel like he’s lost all control and he doesn’t give a damn about it.

As they kiss, Yamapi’s hands anxiously dig through his bedside drawer, grasping at a condom and lube which throws blindly on to the bed as they stand next to it, just kissing and kissing and Yamapi doesn’t ever want to stop kissing Jin, who is both the sun and the moon, and maybe also all the stars. He might also be the sprouting of new leaves in spring, and the only reason Yamapi’s heart beats, but that will take further research, which Yamapi will be only too happy to conduct if it means he can just keep kissing Jin forever.

Yamapi pulls desperately at Jin’s t-shirt, and Jin breaks their kiss just long enough to lift it over his head. His hair is tousled, and Yamapi can’t resist sliding his hands into it and dragging Jin’s face back to his own, because Jin is like a drug, and he wants more and more of him.

Jin scratches at the buttons of Yamapi’s shirt, and Yamapi swears as they clatter to the floor. Yamapi rears back and swears. “I liked this shirt,” he mumbles, the last part swallowed as Jin’s mouth follows him back and rejoins his own, and Yamapi’s tongue fiercely duels Jin’s as he slides the shirt off his shoulders.

Yamapi drags his nails down Jin’s chest, grazing his nipples and making Jin hiss, and reach for the fastening of Yamapi’s jeans. Yamapi is moving at the same time, and they chuckle into each other’s mouths when their hands bump into each other.

Their jeans hit the floor at the same time, quickly followed by Jin’s boxers and Yamapi’s briefs.

“I want to…” Jin starts, and Yamapi groans in approval, pushing Jin back onto the bed and climbing on top of him. He plants small kisses all across Jin’s face, memorizing each feature with his newly restored vision, licking at the tiny mole at the corner of Jin’s eye, and sucking lightly on his ear lobe until Jin is melting beneath him.

“Pi,” Jin sighs softly. “Pi, I…”

Yamapi has never wanted a man before, but now he can’t imagine wanting anyone other than Jin, just like this.

“Shh…” Yamapi says, and it’s love.

Just as the sun is meant to rise, and birds are meant to sing, Jin is meant to be underneath of him, gasping and sighing. Yamapi searches out every sensitive spot with wandering lips and tongue, licking and nibbling his way across Jin’s exposed chest. His teeth leave tiny marks on the golden skin, and Yamapi relishes the red flush that crawls up Jin’s sternum and colors his neck, relishes that he can see every inch of Jin spread out below him, arching toward him, completely under his control. His eyes hungrily devour every detail of Jin’s body, like he’s never seen it before, and he hasn’t, not like this, not all for him.

Jin’s moans sound like the sweetest love song Yamapi has ever heard.

Jin’s hair smells like lilacs, like the fresh ones Jin’s mother cuts and leaves on their table whenever she comes to visit.

Jin’s lips taste like cigarettes and sunshine.

Jin’s skin is hot, hot like lava, molten under Yamapi’s palms as he slides them down his ribcage.

“Pi,” Jin chants. “Pi, Pi, Pi.”

Yamapi wants it all, wants every sense there is, wants to touch and taste and hear and smell and see, god he wants to see. He wants to see how Jin shudders beneath his ministrations, watch the slow parting of Jin’s mouth as he exhales, observe Jin’s eyes turn into fiery chips of coal as Yamapi wraps his tongue around Jin’s cock.

He presses open-mouthed kisses to Jin’s balls, and licks up the underside of Jin’s cock, torturously slow. Jin whines with need, and his hips lift slightly, seeking more friction that Yamapi isn’t ready to give.

Jin becomes helpless under his tongue, and Yamapi basks in it as he sucks on the sensitive skin of Jin’s inner thigh, biting slightly and enjoying the involuntary noises Jin emits at each brush of his teeth against the smooth unblemished skin. Finally, he brings his lips to the head of Jin’s cock and kisses it, softly, and Jin’s husky groan sends chills down Yamapi’s spine.

“I need…” Jin says, and then Yamapi has taken him all the way in, Jin’s cock hitting the back of his throat and Jin chokes on whatever he was about to say, and Yamapi doesn’t care anyway, because he knows what Jin needs. Yamapi bobs up and down along Jin’s shaft, his hands circle the base and following the upward and downward track of his mouth, trapping Jin in unceasing stimulation.

Jin is shivering and writhing on the bed, and Yamapi can’t take his eyes off of him, blushing face and tightly clenched eyes and a little sliver of perfection right here on the bed in front of him, like love crumbs for his hungry eyes.

“Pi,” Jin says. “Please.”

And Yamapi releases him from his mouth, and slides down further on the bed, his own cock jumping at the friction of Jin’s flannel sheets rubbing against his exposed cock, hissing at the sudden pulse of arousal as Jin’s eyes follow his every movement.

Yamapi settles comfortably between Jin’s legs, and lifts them so Jin’s knees are folded up and spread wide. Yamapi nuzzles him there, beneath his ball sack, and Jin’s breath speeds up.

“Pi, what are you doing?” he asks, his voice anxious and anticipating and guttural all at once, and Yamapi can’t resist, at hearing his tone, reaching out and licking along the crease of Jin’s ass, tracking the line between the cheeks with his tongue. He releases Jin’s legs and pulls the cheeks apart, revealing the small puckered hole. “Pi?” Panic is warring a little with desire in Jin’s voice, and Yamapi licks him, once, and Jin moans long and loud as it registers in Jin’s brain what is happening.

“Relax,” Yamapi says softly. “I just want to look at you.”

Jin clenches his hands into the fabric of the bed sheets, but he doesn’t fight it as Yamapi pulls him even further apart and circles that small ring of muscles with a dexterous tongue. “Oh my god,” Jin says, and Yamapi wants to chuckle, but he’s concentrating to hard on not scaring Jin, on not making a mistake. His tongue probes at the entrance now, slipping in just a little before retreating, leaving Jin with a gasping jaw and wide eyes. “Oh. My. God.”

Then Yamapi does chuckle, he can’t help it, and all he wants to do is dive deeper into that hole, until Jin falls apart in front of him.

Jin’s thighs are tight, and Yamapi can see the muscles clenching with every dip of his tongue into Jin’s tiny entrance, before Jin quivers at the sensation. Yamapi reaches next to him on the bed, where he’s set the lube, and drips a bit onto his fingers. He nudges the hole with just his middle finger, before slipping it in and god it’s tight, and Jin wails at the fingers entrance, his whole body seizing as Yamapi wriggles it about slowly. He lifts his left hand up to soothingly stroke Jin’s cock, a slow rhythm designed to calm more than excite. “It’s okay, Jin, just relax,” Yamapi croons, and Jin has his eyes closed and his head thrown back, just arching toward the ceiling, and Yamapi quickly jerks his cock three times, sliding a second finger in while Jin tremblingly releases the sheets and grabs his own thighs to hold them up closer to his chest.

Yamapi crooks his fingers, slowly, carefully, searching until Jin bites his lip hard enough to bleed, and Yamapi knows he’s found it. “There,” Jin says, his voice high and needy. “There, there, there,” he repeats, and Yamapi is happy to oblige, to rapidly pull and push back into that spot as Jin’s body clenches around him. Yamapi’s cock is aching for attention now, having been neglected as he preps Jin slowly and carefully. He moves to insert a third finger and Jin growls at him. “Just fuck me, already,” Jin says, and Yamapi laughs, because Jin has always been impatient.

But he slips on a condom and lubes it up, before sliding seductively up Jin’s body, his whole body slipping sweat soaked against Jin’s whole body in an impossibly amazing friction that makes them both moan in unison. He seals his mouth to Jin’s briefly, tangling their tongues together and enjoying the unbelievable feeling of skin on skin. Their cocks touch, and Yamapi grinds his hips into Jin’s once, twice, and Jin arches up to meet him, before Yamapi forces himself to slide back down again, and put his own hands on top of Jin’s to help hold Jin’s legs up. He releases the right hand, just for a moment, to line himself up with Jin’s entrance, but it quickly resumes it’s grip on Jin’s thighs as he pushes into to the almost unbearably tight hole, all the air leaving his body in one fierce exhalation that leaves him breathless and seeing stars.

Jin is whining beneath him, his face scrunched up as he makes tiny mewling sounds, his body adjusting to Yamapi’s. Yamapi feels surrounded in the hottest heat he’s ever known, and Jin looks gorgeous like this, undone and wild, caught in a mixture of pain and pleasure and everything in the world all at once.

Yamapi thinks Jin might be his most beautiful like this, surrendering himself completely to Yamapi, giving him everything he has to give. He loves the glazed look in Jin’s eyes as Jin slowly opens them, meeting his gaze and whispering in this dark chocolate voice that Yamapi has never heard before. “Fuck me,” Jin commands. “Just fucking move.” And it’s so different from the needy moans and the aching cries but it’s just as hot, and Yamapi slams his hip forward, and Jin shrieks with the impact of Yamapi’s cock directly against his prostate, shoving his own hips back at Yamapi as they meet each other in jerky, uncoordinated thrusts.

Yamapi thinks that there is no time on this earth that he has felt more complete than this. That this moment is the culmination of everything and all he can feel is the slick heat of Jin tightening around him and the smell of Jin’s lilac hair and the taste of cigarette smoke and the breathy whimpers in Jin’s crooning voice and Jin’s flushed cheeks and Jin Jin Jin and it’s all he needs, to think about it all, to experience it all, with all five senses, and then he is coming, harder than he’s ever come in his life, his entire self seeming to turn to white light before he spirals back down to Jin, who is coming too, one hand wrapped around his own cock as his come splatters across his chest in spidery white strands.

“Pi,” he whispers, and Yamapi slides out of him slowly, regretfully, disposing of the condom in the wastebasket by the bed before pulling Jin on top of him, Jin’s weight pushing him into the mattress. Their mouths find each other with no hesitation, sloppy open-mouthed kisses that leave trails of saliva connecting the corners of their lips, and it doesn’t matter because everything is perfect.

“Next time, I’m in charge,” Jin mutters against the sweat-slicked skin of Yamapi’s arm, and Yamapi hums in agreement.

The last thing Yamapi sees when he goes to bed that night is a slumbering Jin, curled up naked on the bed, hair splayed around him, knotted and tangled, and Jin’s lips are swollen with endless kisses. He looks a little cold, so Yamapi pulls the woolen blanket at the end of the bed up and over them both, and throws his arm around Jin’s waist, and it’s love.

He closes his eyes, and knows he’ll see it again, and again, and again.

The walls are a lovely shade of pink.

Touch