maayacolabackup

DARJEELING

Jin has always loved tea. All kinds of tea. His mother is a tea expert, with a cabinet full of all sorts of different brews for different occasions. When Jin was younger, and Jin couldn't sleep, Jin's mother would turn on the front eye of the stove and fill a tea kettle with water. While the water boiled, she poured hot water from the tap into her porcelain teapot and an empty ceramic mug, preheating them, and then poured out the water, drying them with a clean towel. Then she'd take out a big, heaping spoonful of the leaves, pungent even from the distance of the kitchen table where Jin sat, and dump them into the bottom of the teapot.

Jin had asked her once, why she didn't use tea bags, and she told him that half the magic of tea, and half the soothing nature, was in the preparation. "It's like meditation," she told him. "Like sitting in the rock gardens in Kamakura, near the Daibutsu." Jin nodded, and rested his chin on his hands. "Plus it tastes much better," she added with a wink.

Jin agreed, and by the time the chamomile sat warm between his encircling hands, he was already halfway to slumber.

Darjeeling is famous for a lot of things. But Darjeeling black tea is arguably some of the world's best; Jin finds himself coming to Darjeeling just for that, despite the sense of urgency that seems to drive him to return home.

What Jin finds in Darjeeling is more that tea. It's a gorgeous lush valley, filled with devastatingly beautiful scenery, greenery and sparkling water filling him with awe. There are hundred of moderately difficult trails to trek, and each one leads to a new view, or a new smell of midsummer that makes Jin glad he's come.

Jin aimlessly explores historic sites and backwoods trails for three days, riding horses at Mirik and lying on his back for hours at Samsing, just enjoying the cool breeze, refreshing and clear.

It makes him remember the winter fog, for some reason, maybe because of the silky odor, and how it had cloaked Kerala With an aura of mystery-- the sort of 'wonders of the orient' Jin has always known must be real from novels and late Saturday broadcasts on the English language channel.

Just like he knows it will, the tea plantation Jin visits, one of the oldest of the valley, makes Jin long for home. The pain of it is almost acute, as he imagines his mother's warm smile slowly simmering like water on the stove. And as his hands grasp a famous tea leaf in his hand, stroking the tiny leaf and feeling it's ridges on his hiking-calloused fingers, he remembers introducing Pi to tea.

"I only drink coffee," Pi tells him, looking skeptically at the opaque airtight container Jin cradles between his hands like a child, flush with the success of finding a good Caradan tea. "Tea is kind of gross."

"Have you ever had a good black tea?" Jin asks him crossly, while Pi stares in amazement at all the tools Jin pulls out of the cupboards that Yamapi never even knew where there. "Because you can't let your opinion be based on inferior tea."

"What's this do?" Yamapi asks, picking up a slotted, woven wooden basket with a handle.

"It's a sort of strainer," Jin explains as he fills the kettle with tap water. "We'll use it to strain out the tea leaves after it seeps."

"Why are you not using bottled water?" Yamapi questions with trepidation. "Is it safe to drink tap?"

"We're boiling it, stupid," Jin tells him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Pi pulls it back and grabs a ponytail holder off the table, tying Jin's hair back for him, gently using his fingers to capture the shorter front pieces as well. Jin relaxes into the touch for a moment. "The bottled water has no oxygen. Tea is like us. It needs to breathe."

"Oh," Yamapi says, and he's fascinated, it seems, by the process Jin has seen his mother do so many times it doesn't even strike him as complicated anymore, just necessary to enjoy a good cup of tea. "There's no teabags," he remarks, and Jin looks at him affronted.

"Not in my house," he says, and Pi laughs.

"How is it that you can't fry an egg without setting of the smoke detector, but you have no problem following a complicated process to make a beverage?" Yamapi shakes his head. "You'd be so screwed on a deserted island. I sometimes think you're an idiot savant."

"I'd be drinking really good tea while I starved to death," Jin responds. "Because I make good tea."

Yamapi shrugs. "Just remember, I'm no lover of tea."

But later, when Jin hands Pi a cup of the tea, and the scent of cinnamon curls out of the cup in a tiny trail of steam, Yamapi closes his eyes and inhales. Jin watches him carefully, holding his own cup, and smiles, because he can see the magic starting to work.

Yamapi takes a sip of the tea, slowly, hesitantly, and Jin can see his victory in the way that he swallows slowly and carefully, the way he does when he's trying to make the most of what he's tasting. His tongue darts out and licks the moisture off his lips, too, and his long eyelashes flutter open, to reveal surprised eyes to Jin's waiting gaze. "It's good," he says softly, and Jin already knows.

Jin buys a large brick of Darjeeling black, knowing a small container won't be enough. He ships it home to his mother with express instructions not to drink it until he gets home. He hopes it arrives a day or two before him, so that she has time to break the brick into smaller pieces and separate it into containers, letting it release a little of it's natural odor and potency.

Jin is surprised that going home doesn't scare him. It just makes him shiver in anticipation.

What Jin misses is not anything major. He doesn't miss Tokyo tower, or Yuu's annual birthday parties, where Ryo always hires surprise strippers that aren't really a surprise anymore, or Kamenashi's TV show. He misses smaller things, like the soft light seeping in through his window when he stays up writing music too late, or the brush of Pi's arm against his own when they stand at the counter in the kitchen, Yamapi refusing to let Jin cook anything because Jin is an awful cook. He misses the soft upward tilt of Kame's lips when Jin accidentally lets it slip that he watches Kamenashi's TV show, even though he could not care less about baseball. He misses how Yuu always pretends to be mad about the strippers, but secretly thinks it's hilarious every damn time.

He misses waking up in the morning to Pi banging everything around in the cabinets, looking for more instant coffee because he's too lazy to brew the stuff on the counter, and Jin misses knowing that he threw all the instant stuff away because it's disgusting.

It's like the stained glass windows at that church in Shimla. The tiny refractals of his life in Japan are surrounding him, making a lovely rainbow.

But Jin is ready to step back to the other side of the glass, and into the sun.

He's not the same person he was a year ago. He by no means has it all together now, and he doesn't know much more about anything. What he does know, though, is more about himself. Jin can see himself and his own weaknesses and strengths clearer than he ever has in his life. He can see his own heart too, now, previously undiscovered to anyone in this world, and now Jin has found it, and looked inside.

It's sort of beautiful, his heart. And in there is melody and rhythm and cymbals and dance and bells and love and joy and a genuine, pulsing willingness to take a chance on something new.

Jin, on this trip, has scooped himself into the teapot, and left himself to seep for twelve months in the boiling water, brewed himself to his highest potency. He's strained out the self lies and facades, and only the clearest parts of him will make it into the mug. He looks down at his hands and likes the uneven thickness of the skin, because it's from working hard. It's from watering vegetables and climbing mountains and learning to make curry and from skipping stones.

When Jin passes a man playing the sitar, underneath a canvas tent, while women prepare some kind of dough next to him, Jin notices that he plucks the strings out, instead of down.

Jin stops at a small cafe near his hostel, and has himself a really good cup of tea. He borrows a stranger's laptop and sends an email to Amy, asking her if she's free in five days.

Somehow, this is enough. Maybe Jin's ‘found himself’, after all.

***

THE GOLDEN TEMPLE

Jin learns, by reading his dog-eared guidebook on the train back to Delhi, that the Golden Temple of Amritsar has many names. Many call it Sri Harmandir Sahib Ji, or the Darbar Sahib, or The Gift of God. But everyone, Jin realizes, thinks it's one of the most important places in the Sikh faith in all of India. Jin thinks it is fitting, somehow, that the last place he will visit in India is this incredible place, this place built upon a small lake in the middle of a deep forest, a place where Buddha himself is said to have stayed. Jin thinks, as far as 'finding yourself' goes, it's a fitting end to his journey.

Thinking of it as an end, though, is painful. Jin hasn't had many regrets about coming to India, because somehow, even though he misses his family terribly, and he doesn't know what he's doing half the time, Jin thinks he feels the least lost he's ever felt since he realized he was somehow incomplete.

Amy is waiting for him at the train station. Her pretty red hair hangs loose and lovely around her freckled face, and the sun creates a halo around the crown her head. She's clutching two books to her chest and looking around anxiously, and Jin yells her name.

"Jin!" she says, her eyes wide. "Your hair!"

Jin self-consciously fingers his short hair, feeling the three-centimeter long pieces cling to each other in clumps. "I sacrificed it at a temple," he explains. "Does it look awful?" Jin finds, to his surprise, that he doesn't really care about the answer. He's been handsome his whole life, and pretty vain about it in his own way, but it doesn't seem to matter so much to him in this moment, because he doesn't have to impress anybody on this earth right now. He can just be Jin.

"Actually, I was going to say it looks great," Amy replies with a blush. "your eyes look brighter. You look happier." Jin wants to tell her that has nothing to do with his haircut, that he's found love at a mountaintop and serenity in dance and blessings in tea, but it seems like too much to explain.

So instead he grins, and she excitedly grabs his wrist and tugs. "Let's go," she says. "We have to catch the last bus to Amritsar. We won't be able to go inside until tomorrow, so we will stay at a hostel tonight."

Jin hums his understanding, and Amy pulls him along to the other side of the station, where they board an old, rickety looking bus that seems like it might break down at any minute. Kamenashi wouldn't get within ten feet of this bus, Jin thinks to himself, and it makes him smile. He'll see Kamenashi again soon, and Kame will probably slap him for making him worry. But Pi will play peacemaker, and Jin will make some sarcastic comment about how times change, and then all three of them will laugh, and it'll all be okay again.

The smile plays about his mouth, and Amy watches him interestedly. "What in the world are you thinking about?" she asks. "You have this really weird smile on your face."

"Two of my friends from home," Jin answers, and reaches up to tug on a piece of his hair before he remembers it's gone. His hand hangs awkwardly in the air for a moment, and Amy burst out laughing.

"You're surprisingly lame for someone who claims they used to be a pop star," Amy teases, and Jin can't help but enjoy the banter.

"That was one of my selling points," Jin explains to her, as if it's all a joke. "I'm the stupid goofy one in the group."

"Oh, a boy band, was it?" Amy jokes. "That's even worse."

Jin smiles cheekily at her. "Yeah, well, I went solo in 2010 as a birthday present to myself."

"Good for you," Amy says, and claps him on the shoulder. "Well done."

"I liked being in a boy band, though," Jin defends. "I had to share the attention, but I had people to deflect the attention, too."

Amy nods sagely. "That makes sense," she says. "Good strategy."

The hostel they stay at that night is poorly lit, but it's clean and Jin's bed is soft, and he sleeps peacefully.

In the morning, he and Amy gather for breakfast. Amy reminds Jin a lot of Yuu's little sister Lina, who calls him Uncle Jin, and it's weird because Amy is the same age as him.

They walk slowly to the temple, chatting about Amy's research and Jin's various destinations. The temple grounds seem to rise before them, gorgeous in the midday sun.

Jin gasps at it, because he's heard the inner part is even more beautiful, and the outside is flawless to Jin's eyes, mixing Muslim and Indian and European architecture to make something so unique and elegant.

Amy too seems impressed, and he breath seems to catch. "I knew it would be gorgeous," she whispers.

Amy tentatively reaches out and grabs his hand. Jin looks down, confused for a moment, before he gets it. He feels uncomfortable for a minute, unsure how to react, but then he squares his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Jin says, stepping backwards. "I'm in love with someone."

Amy's eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, I feel so silly," Amy says, and presses her hands against rapidly flushing cheeks. She looks like an anime character, and Jin thinks she's cute. "I'm so sorry."

"No, I just...I didn't mean to lead you on, if I did," Jin quickly states, then reaches to tug on his hair and remembers it's gone. "I think you're wonderful, I really do. And I like spending time with you, it's just..."

"You're in love with someone else," she finishes, then laughs a little. "You didn't lead me on, not really. I just...I guess I thought you were more reserved because you're Japanese, or something."

"Reserved is not a word that has ever been used to describe me," Jin says wryly, then wants to tell Ryo that someone had found him reserved, and see Ryo's reaction to that.

"What's she like?" Amy asks softly, and Jin looks at her contemplatively.

"He," Jin corrects, and Amy looks up sharply.

"Come again?"

"Your question should be what's he like," Jin says, and then grins when Amy blushes even harder.

"You're gay?" Amy says, kind of like she feels even sillier. "Is this because you're in a boy band?" she jokes weakly.

"No," Jin corrects. "I'm in love with this man, right now." He stops. "And maybe forever," he adds, and Amy smiles despite herself.

"He's a lucky guy, then," Amy says, and then she rubs her hands on the front of her dress. "Does he know?"

"Not yet," Jin replies, then beams at Amy, in a way that makes her flush all over again. "But he will."

Amy laughs, a little sadly, and pats Jin on the shoulder. "Then good luck," she says, before clearing her throat. "We've still got exploring to do, you know, so let's get moving."

"Amy," Jin interjects, and Amy turns around. "Don't worry, you'll find it, I'm sure of it."

"Find what?"

"Love," Jin answers, and Amy never looks more beautiful to Jin than she does in that moment, when she smiles.

They descend the stone stairs into the temple and maybe it's the second most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, second only because he remembers the look on Yamapi's face their first Christmas in their new apartment, when Jin had stayed up all night and brought in a tree and decorated it, which was only possible because Pi slept like the dead. When Pi had jumped on his bed the next morning, smothering him with his own comforter, a mere hour after Jin had gone to sleep, Jin had been grumpy for about thirty seconds before he registered that the look on Yamapi's face put the glimmering gold and crystal star Jin had placed on the top of the tree to shame.

That look puts the Golden Temple to shame, too.

When they exit the temple, Jin and Amy walk back towards the bus lot, still silent in a mixture of awe and pleasant satisfaction from the temple. The silence is companionable, too, and it's nice, for Jin, to not feel pressured to talk.

"Jin," Amy says softly, and Jin turns to look at her. "It really was nice to meet you. I wish we could have time to get to know each other better. I don't even know what you do for a living."

Jin looks down at her, and puts his hand on the top of her head like he does to Lina when he thinks she's being particularly cute. "Amy," Jin starts, as he stops in front of the bus to Delhi. They will part here, and Amy will return to Mumbai. "I've told you more about myself than I've told anyone else in India." He grabs a receipt he’s kept from his pocket, and unfolds it. He scrawls his name across the back. "My name is Jin Akanishi. I'm a famous Japanese pop star, who went missing last July. Google it," he says, and she's gaping at him.

"For the record, I think only one of the guys in my boy band likes men," Jin adds conversationally as he climbs the bus steps. "And I think it's me." He winks at her, and it feels over.

His Journey. It's over. It's time to go home.

The next morning Jin doesn't have to check any baggage at the airport. He's just got the one backpack after all. He has to wait a few hours to get a seat on an available plane, so he wastes time wandering the vendors outside the airport. He eats goat curry one last time.

"I'm gonna make it worldwide," Jin says under his breath, and then he boards his flight to Narita.

***

TOKYO

Jin finds that Tokyo is about the same as he left it, for the most part. When he steps out of Narita airport, and hails a cab, the cars are still the same models as a year ago, and the taxi driver is just as unfriendly as the one that drove Jin to the airport a year ago. The build boards on the highway that leads over the water and into the main part of Tokyo have changed their picture. Jin swallows at the large on of NewS, and doesn't know how to stop his heart from beating faster, so fast it feels like he can't breathe. Pi looks the same as he looks in the fragile web of memories Jin has allowed himself to think on the past few days. His hair is different, but that is not unexpected in their profession. Jin might be seeing things, but he also thinks Yamapi looks a little sad, too.

The streets of Tokyo are beautiful to Jin in the twilight, and Jin feels almost like he did when he arrived in Delhi for the first time. Like everything is new all over again, but strangely the same. He fingers the keys in his pocket anxiously as the taxi pulls to a stop outside his apartment building; keys he hasn't used since he locked the door and drove to work this time last year. He wonders if they'll still work in the door. His backpack feels like it bears the weight of a year's experiences, and it's digging into his shoulders and his palms are sweaty and then he is standing at the door, and there's nothing left to do but open it.

The key slides in smooth, like butter, like it hasn't been twelve months and eleven days since he's opened this door and walked into the apartment.

The door swings open, and it doesn't creak.

Yamapi is standing there, paused in mid motion, and he looks like he's seen a ghost, like he can't believe Jin is really here. Jin licks his lips, because he can't believe that Yamapi is really here, either. That Jin can reach in front of him and almost touch him.

"Hi," Jin says, and knows it's not enough. That his "Hi," is not "I'm sorry," or "I missed you," or "I realized while I was gone that I have always been in love with you."

But it seems to be enough to break the tableaux, to push Yamapi into motion. Jin finds himself swept into a hug so fierce that it makes his bones ache. It makes his heart ache too, because it isn't until just now that he feels like he's finally come home. That this is home. That he doesn't want to be back in India unless Yamapi comes with him, to that amazing scenic view at the end of a 900 foot climb in Gingee where Jin realized for the first time that he was in love.

"Oh my god," Yamapi says, and his voice is hoarse, and Jin thinks Yamapi might be crying, and Jin is crying too, so it's okay, because men never spill each others' secrets. "I can't believe you're here."

"Pi," Jin chokes out, before burying his face in Pi's neck, inhaling the clean scent of soap and wind. "I missed you so much, I thought I was going to die." Pi doesn't smell like a mountain peak, or the gray fog of winter, or the exotic spice markets, or the fresh teas of Darjeeling, but he smells better than those. Pi smells like home, and like a welcome, and maybe like something that can anchor Jin here in this world, and keep him from running away again.

"Me too," Yamapi says, and squeezes Jin even more tightly against him. Jin feels the trembling of Pi's body against his, and Jin is shaking too, with relief, with faith, and with the soul-gripping rush of love. "Oh god, me too, Jin."

"I'm sorry I didn't call," Jin manages, and Yamapi leans his cheek against the crown of Jin's head.

"I got your notebook," Yamapi says instead of responding to Jin's statement, and Jin lifts his arms and circles them around Yamapi's waist, his fingers clutching at Yamapi's t-shirt, crushing it in his palms like it's the only thing holding him up. It's not, because Yamapi is practically picking him off the floor with the force of his embrace, arms strong and warm and here, oh god here, around him. "It helped."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Pi says, and then he takes a deep breath. "Jin, I need you to tell me right now if I'm reading this all wrong. If I am, tell me now and I'll put you down and take a step back and we will still be best friends, after I punch you in the face for making me worry." Jin can hear Yamapi's voice catch, and his heart, the traitorous organ, is thudding like a painful hammer against his ribcage, like it's trying to pound it's way right out of Jin's chest. "Because if you don't say anything, I'm going to kiss you."

Jin pulls away from Yamapi then, and looks him in the eyes. Yamapi looks scared, and happy, and like maybe, just maybe, there's a mean spirited hammer in his chest too, and Jin doesn't say a word.

Yamapi leans in slowly, like he keeps expecting Jin to step back, or to say no, or something else equally ridiculous that would never happen because Jin has never wanted anything more than he wants Yamapi.

When Pi's lips press against his, soft and tender and hesitant, Jin sees, with crystal clarity, the skyline of Pondicherry in the night, with the stars twinkling, like satellites of dreams above him, leading on to an unfathomable eternity. This kiss feels like that, to Jin, like it could be endless and that would be okay because it's perfect and Jin would never ever want to turn away. Jin kisses him back.

They're both too gentle, too terrified that it's a dream, to deepen the kiss, but then Jin feels a dam inside of himself crumble, and he is reaching up and threading his hands through Yamapi's hair, pulling his face closer and tilting his own head to the side to connect their mouths more fully. Yamapi groans, low and long, and then his mouth is tumbling open beneath Jin's, and Jin feels like there is not air to be found, anywhere on this earth, but he doesn't need it, because all he needs to live is to stay in this moment forever.

Yamapi wraps his arms around Jin's hips, fingers digging into Jin's hipbones, nails digging into Jin's skin. Then Yamapi tentatively presses his tongue against Jin's lips, and Jin opens his mouth immediately to allow him in, and they both sigh as their tongues tangle together.

It's different from when Rohit kissed him, different because it's not just surprise and complacency, and because it's Pi. Pi is always more to Jin, always the thing that Jin can see across an ocean and know that it's all he needs.

Jin knows it has to end, eventually, that they can't just stay here kissing until the world ends, no matter how appealing the idea is with Yamapi's mouth hot and willing under his own.

Eventually, Yamapi pulls back, and Jin tries to follow his mouth, but Yamapi laughs and steps back into the apartment. His lips are swollen and full, like cherries, and Jin wonders if Yamapi knows how much a part of Jin he is, as he slips a hand into his pocket and fingers the cherry lip balm in pocket, the little pot almost empty after a year.

Jin blinks slowly, as the knot in his stomach slowly uncoils. "Pi," Jin says, "You haven't read anything wrong at all." Jin walks up to him, and links both of his hands with Yamapi's, their fingers twining together like they were almost meant to be folded between each other.

"That's lucky," Yamapi replies, and beams. "Because I had to read between the lines." He rests his forehead against Jin's then, and Jin can feel his breath warm on his face, and it smells like coffee. "You don't smell like cigarettes."

"I quit," Jin says, and grins. "I was 'finding myself', remember? I had to try new things."

"What's that got to do with smoking?" Pi asks, his voice tinged with amusement.

"One of those new things was hiking." Jin remembers wryly how his lungs complained as he reached the thinner air at the tops of hills and rock climbs. "After I quit, hiking made sure that I remembered how hard it is to breathe in the thin mountain air."

"Oh," Yamapi says, and then he is pulling Jin back into the apartment, forgoing lights and Jin is still wearing his shoes and it doesn't really matter, because Jin feels like he's flying anyway, so maybe his feet aren't even touching the ground. They sit down on Yamapi's bed, and Jin leans over and roughly pulls off his sneakers. One of the laces snaps, and Yamapi snickers, and Jin scratches the back of his head.

"I didn't take much with me," is Jin's sheepish explanation, and Yamapi collapses backward, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"That's what gave me hope that you were planning to come back some day to Tokyo." Yamapi lays a hand on his own stomach, and reaches one out to catch Jin's arm. "And back to me." he pulls, and Jin tumbles down onto him. Jin feels the rise and fall of Yamapi's chest.

"I think I've always been in love with you," Jin says, and Yamapi's chest stills, for just a moment, before it resumes it's normal movement. "I just didn't understand what I was looking for. I kept thinking there was something missing, and that I had to go and find it." Jin presses his face into Yamapi's shirt, which smells like fabric softener and makes his nose itch, just a little. "But of course, I couldn't find something that wasn't missing."

"I love you too, Jin." Yamapi says it in a rush, like even after all this he's still afraid that it isn't real, that Jin is going to reject him some how. "I've loved you since...I don't know. I don't know when I started loving you, because it was so long ago it didn't feel different when I realized what it was." His hand is anxiously rubbing a complicated pattern into the exposed strip of skin between Jin's cargo shorts and his t-shirt, which has ridden up his stomach. "You're so thin," Yamapi murmurs, and Jin laughs.

"And I need to take a shower and shave," Jin replies, and then Yamapi suddenly slaps his back playfully.

"Well, I didn't want to say anything, because I didn't want to ruin the moment," Yamapi jokes, and Jin groans and pulls himself up, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

"I'm going to do that," Jin says, but then he leans over Yamapi and drops a soft kiss onto his lips. Yamapi's mouth immediately opens to him, and their tongues touch, briefly, and then Jin drags himself away somehow, their lips making a soft pop as they part. "But I'll be right back," he adds, when he's caught his breath. "I promise."

When Jin gets out of the shower, towel secured around his waist, skin exfoliated, face shaved, and hair washed three times with his favorite conditioner, he feels like a new person. "Your hair is so short," Yamapi says, when Jin lies down next to him on the bed, wet skin sticking to soft cotton sheets. Pi's hand comes up to touch the bare back of Jin's neck. "What happened?"

"I sacrificed it at a temple," Jin says, and then smiles. "It's already growing back." Yamapi's fingers, warm on Jin's neck, leave a trail of fire where they touch, and Jin shivers and turns on his side to face Yamapi. When their eyes meet, Jin can't tear his gaze away.

Jin's so distracted it's almost a surprise when Yamapi's lips meet his own again, firmly capturing Jin's mouth and sucking. Jin can do nothing else but roll them over, so that he is on top, straddling Yamapi and resting his hands on either side of Yamapi's head, holding himself up with his arms as he delves into the warm lips beneath him.

"I love you," Jin says frantically, because there won't ever be enough time to tell Pi how much he loves him, how much his earth spins on it's axis because Pi is there, gently pulling with his own gravity of love. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Pi gasps, and then he lifts his head to push their lips together even more tightly, his neck straining until Jin leans down closer. Pi's hands wander across his bare chest and arms, leaving tingles as they stroke softly, lightly, across every inch of Jin's skin, and it burns more than the Indian summer sun, beaming down on him from directly above and making the air sweltering hot. His hands finally settle on Jin's terrycloth covered hips, and Jin can still feel the heat of his fingers through the towel, somehow.

Jin lifts up to look. Yamapi is panting under him now, lips parted and sucking in quick gasps of air. "Jin," Pi gasps. "I want... I want..."

Jin doesn't give him the chance to speak, just leans down and kisses him again, because all he wants to do is kiss him, for the rest of his life.

Jin doesn't know why his heart chose Yamapi, or when. He knows when he realized it, but he also knows that it must have happened long before that, somewhere between riding bikes together as kids and playing around in the pool and moving in together and singing duets in empty rehearsal rooms. Somewhere, in the midst of burning breakfasts and splashing each other with water from the sink and brushing hands as they walked. It's hard to say when, Jin thinks, but it's easy to say that the image of his heart is Yamapi, that Yamapi somehow wrapped his strong, capable hands around Jin's heart and stole it without Jin even noticing.

Yamapi shifts, and Jin finds himself on his back, Yamapi's warm weight on top of him. "You freak," Jin whispers between licking kisses changing to Yamapi's suddenly more forceful kisses, which leave Jin gasping with more than surprise. "Stop working out so much."

Yamapi chuckles into Jin's mouth. "Then you eat a sandwich, or something, lightweight." Jin retaliates by pushing at Yamapi's shirt, tugging it upward. Yamapi sits up, his legs on either side of Jin, and pulls the shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side before immediately descending back to Jin's waiting mouth.

Jin's hands roam all over Yamapi's exposed flesh, the strong muscles and hot, hot skin feeling so good under his exploration. "Just kidding," Jin mutters. "Keep doing what you're doing, it's really working for you."

"Jin," Yamapi groans. "Shut the fuck up."

Jin finds it easy to agree when Yamapi latches on to Jin's nipple, nibbling at it with his teeth, worrying at the nub until Jin is gasping, and Jin grips the bed sheets to stop himself from grabbing Yamapi's head and pushing him down. Jin's had sex before, lots of it, actually, but not like this. It didn't feel like he was an exploding star in the night sky, like he was about to shatter and then come back together again made new.

It's not because Yamapi is a man. Jin's never had sex with a man before, but he knows it's not that. It's the way he knows it's Yamapi, the way even as Yamapi is driving Jin to distraction with teeth and tongue, his hands keep sliding down the outside of Jin's arms to make sure Jin is still here. That touch makes Jin feel like the center of Yamapi's universe, and that maybe nirvana can be found in Yamapi's arms.

Yamapi slowly makes his way down Jin's stomach, delving into Jin's navel, and sucking insistently to the left of it, leaving a dark bruise on Jin's belly. Yamapi is moving slowly, as if trying to memorize every inch of Jin's body, and when he finally reaches the towel, Jin is fully hard beneath it, and the rub of the terrycloth is almost uncomfortable. Yamapi deliberately untucks the corner of the towel, and opens it, revealing Jin's cock. He gently runs the back of his index finger up the side of it, and it twitches, as Jin gives a low moan. "Oh god," Jin says, and Yamapi laughs, before he looks at Jin with a serious face.

"This is kind of an awkward time to ask, but are you..." Yamapi's hand circles the base of his cock, and Jin has trouble answering for a moment because there are these little colorful lights at the corner of his eyes.

"I'm clean," Jin says quickly. "I haven't, um, done anything since the last time I was checked." One of Yamapi's eyebrows rises with incredulity. "It was a spiritual trip, you asshole," Jin says. "And besides..."

"Besides, what?" Yamapi says, his tongue reaching out and licking, lightly, at the weeping head of Jin's shaft, and Jin is pretty sure the sound that he makes can't be remotely attractive, but it has been a long time, and Yamapi's eyes seem to smolder at it, so he doesn't want to waste time being embarrassed when he could be paying attention to the amazing things Yamapi is doing with his lips, this subtle suction that makes Jin want to scale the walls and burst out of his own skin.

"I couldn't very well be having sex with other people when all I was thinking about was you," Jin gasps out, and then Pi meets his gaze and goes all the way down.

Jin is pretty sure if Buddha knew what it felt like to have your cock hitting the back of Yamapi's throat, he wouldn't have wasted so much time meditating to find Enlightenment. Jin can't help the involuntary rise of his hips as Yamapi bobs up and down on Jin's cock, alternating between sucking and stroking with his fist, and it's sloppy and kind of inexperienced, but Pi's lips are so red they look bruised, and Jin thinks it's the best blow job he's ever had.

He feels that low simmer in his gut, the one that warns him he is about to come, and he pushes at Pi's shoulders. Pi looks up at him again, eyes widening as he pulls back and pumps Jin quickly. Jin comes quickly, splattering all over Pi's face and neck. Pi looks surprised, and Jin, when he finally comes down from his high, bursts out laughing at the look on his face. "Dude, your face right now."

Yamapi looks torn between disgusted and curious, and Jin quickly sobers, pulling Yamapi down to the bed, to lie next to him. He leans forward and licks Yamapi's face with broad strokes, licking his own cum from Yamapi's cheeks and neck. Then he pulls Yamapi into a kiss, lapping at his mouth until he relaxes, with a groan, into Jin's arms. Jin slides a hand down between them, circling Yamapi inside his sweatpants, and Yamapi whimpers. His cock is so hard and aching to Jin's touch, and Jin is gentle, stroking slow, and Yamapi grunts with frustration, thrusting forward with his hips even as he continues to claim Jin's mouth. Jin swallows the sound, before he pulls back and looks at Yamapi. He's sexy, like this, Jin thinks, flushed and vulnerable and needy. Jin wants to give it all.

"Do you have condoms?" Jin asks, and Yamapi's eyes widen.

"Bedside dresser," he replies, and watches with disbelief as Jin reaches over and into the drawer, emerging with a condom and a small bottle of lube.

Jin licks his lips, and pours a little lube onto his fingers, before he sits up curling his back against the headboard. When he starts to circle his own entrance, biting his lip at the unfamiliar sensation, Yamapi gulps and slips his own hand down his pants, pulling himself out and stroking himself slowly, watching as Jin slips a finger inside of himself.

It feels strange, Jin thinks, both the finger wriggling inside of him somewhere he's never been touched before, and the way Yamapi is staring at him like he's the hottest thing Yamapi has ever seen. They're both new, but Jin thinks he likes them both already.

"Have you done this before?" Yamapi's voice cracks, like he's barely holding it together, and Jin likes that, likes that he has that power over this man.

"No," Jin gasps, as he slides a second finger inside himself, gasping. He wants to fuck himself on his own hand, and his cock is coming back to life as he presses against something inside of himself that feels like electricity every few movements of his hand. The ring of muscle burns though, and it hurts. But it hurts less than it feels good, and Jin wonders if maybe love is just like this.

"Oh my god, Jin. You don't know what you look like right now," Yamapi manages, as he removes his sweatpants.

"Mother Nature is always our greatest architect," Jin says, and then Jin is staring at Pi.

Jin looks at his cock, big and pulsing, and gulps, but then he slips a third finger inside, and stretches, and there's that place again, and his hips jolt as he presses it on almost every thrust with all three fingers. His cock has risen to full mast again, and Jin gestures at Yamapi toward the condom that lies next to him on the bed.

Yamapi quickly grabs the condom and puts it on with shaking hands, as Jin quivers under his own ministrations. Jin frees his fingers, wiping them on the towel still on the bed from his shower, as Yamapi pours a little lube into the palm of his hand and jerks his cock twice to wet the condom.

Jin pushes him down to the bed, and climbs on top of him, grabbing Yamapi's cock in one hand. "I'm on top," Jin says, and then he sinks down on Yamapi's cock. "Fuck," Jin groans, and Yamapi's hands dig into his hips so hard that Jin knows he'll have finger shaped bruises in the morning. He feels full, and like he's going to rip apart, and maybe a little like he's been incomplete for a long time and maybe, now, he's finally whole. Yamapi's face is red and scrunched up as he lies completely still beneath Jin, trying not to move before Jin is ready. Jin lifts his hips experimentally, and then slides back down, and they both moan then, Jin at the press of Pi's cock into that new spot he's discovered inside of himself, and Pi probably at the tight friction.

"Jin, for the love of god, move please," Pi says, somehow, through choked gasps and deep breaths, and Jin laughs, and starts to move up and down, slowly, Yamapi's strong arms guiding him and lifting him.

Soon they both crumble into uncoordinated thrusts and mumbled murmurings of love, and into gasping moans and long cries of pleasure that ring through the silence of the bedroom, and Jin is sweating and sighing and he can't breathe and everything is getting dimmer and dimmer around him. One of Pi's hands pries itself away from Jin's hip and grasps his cock, and Jin comes undone, and Pi follows him into oblivion.

When Jin becomes aware of himself again, Pi is gently wiping him with the edge of his towel, cleaning up the cum and the lube, and pulling Jin into his arms. "Jin," Yamapi whispers. "I really, really love you."

And Jin sighs, and leans forward just enough to kiss Yamapi on the neck, right at the vein in his throat, and Jin can feel Yamapi's heart beat. "I know," Jin says. "Because I love you, and we've always done most things together."

"You should have taken me with you," Pi whispers, and Jin places a hand on his own heart.

"I did," is his reply, and it is true.

The next day, when Jin goes to visit his parents, Yamapi goes with him. When Jin's mother pulls Jin into a bone crushing hug, or even when Reio grabs him one armed and pulls him into a headlock; even then he can't make himself let go of Yamapi's hand.

His father seems resigned, as if he'd always seen it coming, and his mother gives him a tiny secretive smile, and Jin knows he'll never leave these people again. He presses his shoulder against Yamapi's, and Yamapi nudges him back.

They both smile.

***

GINGEE

"I've dreamed of taking you here," Jin says, his hand lightly circling Yamapi's wrist as he guides them both up the stone hillside, carefully weaving through the small sprouting plants. It's almost early summer, and it's been a year since Jin has walked this path, but he still remembers the way.

"Why?" Yamapi says. "Why here in particular?" Yamapi's face is flushed from the climb. He's not used to the weather yet, and Jin thinks he might be a bit jet lagged, too. "Aren't there any places with lower elevation that you could have dreamed about showing me?"

Jin laughs, and keeps pulling, not explaining yet. "No," Jin says. "Don't worry, the view is worth the effort."

"Okay, okay," Yamapi sighs, and when they reach the top, Jin smiles at Yamapi's gasp.

"I told you," Jin says smugly.

"You were right," Pi says grudgingly, and he turns to Jin with a small grin. "I guess I can see why you wanted to show me this."

"The view isn't why at all," Jin replies, and then guides Yamapi to a small structure, maybe a turret of the old fortress. Jin sits down, and pats the space next to him, indicating that Pi should follow suit.

It seems surreal to Jin, to feel Yamapi's sturdy presence next to him in this place. India, for a Jin, is a place that Jin associates with being the most alone he's ever been in his life, the most self-reliant and the most brave. And now, to have Yamapi sitting next to him, is like a shift in his perception. India, for Jin, is the place where Jin discovered love.

"I was sitting right here," Jin says softly, and Yamapi turns to look at him with one eyebrow raised.

"What?" Yamapi is distracted, and takes a sip from his water bottle, pouring a little on his face to fight the heat.

Jin surveys the skyline, and remembers how it all became clear to him, in one sparking moment. "I was sitting right here when I realized I was in love with you," Jin says, and Yamapi drops the water bottle. Jin looks over at him with a grin, and Yamapi looks ridiculous, all red, the ends of his hair wet around his face. Jin wants to kiss him.

Yamapi wants to kiss Jin too, Jin can tell, but it'll have to wait for later.

"Jin Akanishi, I really fucking love you," Yamapi says, and swallows hard, looking out on the village below them with eyes that might be wet.

The future isn't clear. Jin doesn't know what is going to happen, but that's okay. If Jin had all the answers, there'd be no point in living his life.

He does know some things, anyway. He knows the important ones, right now.

"I really fucking love you too," Jin replies, and then he laces their hands together.