Unbound: But Jin Loves Lots of Things, Too (7/7)

[maayacolabackup]

Chapter Seven: But Jin Loves Lots of Things, Too. (So in the long run, he guesses you win some and lose some)

The next part of the story reads Jin pulled himself up, managing to stand. Then he tucked the Book under his arm, and started to cross the room. Jin approached the Lord of the West. Jin was alone, now, and he would end it here, one way or another. That’s all that’s written, but Jin wants to change it. He closes his eyes, ignoring the crackling sound as the support beams of the room are consumed in flames. Jin doesn’t know how much longer the room will stay standing, how long he and Other Jin, and Yamashita, frozen in his glass coffin, have before the roof collapses on them. If he had magic, he could save them. If he had his Inspiration.

Jin was alone now, the words had read, and Jin swallows. His nose is filled with smoke, and not the reassuring kind like a nice ‘Piannissmo Peche’ cigarette gives off, scented like peach and warm and comforting in Jin’s lungs.

Jin is with Pi, now, Jin thinks, and wills the words in the Book to change. With Pi, he thinks. With Pi.

The tingling starts, as always, twisting in Jin’s gut and in Jin’s chest. “Please,” Jin whispers aloud, and he clenches his eyes so tight it hurts, a little. “Please.”

He thinks about Yamapi, the way Yamapi smiles at him across a room and how it instantly eases Jin’s discomfort, and the way Yamapi reaches out and presses his hand to Jin’s back, just to remind Jin that he’s there. He thinks about the way Yamapi’s hair tickles his nose when they wake up accidentally curled together, looking for each other even in sleep. The way Yamapi’s smile is just a joyful now as it was when Jin first met him, the way it transforms his whole face and makes Jin feel like he just won at life. The way Yamapi can tease him and push all of his buttons, and the way sometimes, Yamapi is the only one who can soothe him when all his buttons have been pushed. Jin feels that tingle expand, spreading down his arms and legs, and the Book grows hot in his hands. Jin remembers the way Yamapi’s lips feel, suddenly, firm and slick against his own, tongue delving into Jin’s mouth, and the way Yamapi tastes like coffee. Jin loves coffee. Jin loves Yamapi, too.

Jin opens his eyes when the Book feels like it’s so hot it might combust, and Jin is amazed when the words on the page blur and morph in front of his eyes. Jin straightens, and drags himself up to a standing position, as Other Jin watches him with calculating eyes. “Jin pulled himself up, managing to stand. Then he tucked the Book under his arm, and started to cross the room. Jin approached the Lord of the West. Jin is with Pi, now, and he’ll end it here, one way or another.”

“With Pi?” Other Jin croaks out, eye whites becoming stark against his face.

“Yeah,” Jin says. “I needed my Inspiration.”

“Jin!” yells a familiar voice, and Pi is there, in the doorway. He’s got blood running from a cut on his forehead, tracking down his face, and his shirt is torn in several places, but he looks mostly unharmed. “Jin, we gotta get out of here!”

“We can’t leave him,” Jin says, and gestures towards Other Jin. Yamapi’s mouth gaps like a fish as he looks at Other Jin.

“You’re the Lord of the West?!” Yamapi says incredulously.

“No,” Jin says. “He’s the Lord of the West. I’m Jin, successful Japanese pop musician and sex symbol.” Jin coughs. The smoke is getting thicker. “Anyway, I can’t just leave him here to die. Or…”

“Or what?” Yamapi says, walking closer to Jin, close enough that Jin could reach out and touch him if he wanted. If he thought he’d be able to stop himself from burying his face in the hollow of Yamapi’s neck. But right now he knows he couldn’t.

“Or…him,” Jin adds, pointing back at the glass, and Yamapi yelps in a totally undignified manner when he sees his own face staring out at him, frozen. “Looks like no matter where we go or how things change, you’ll always be Akanishi Jin’s Inspiration.”

“You’re a total sap,” Yamapi says distractedly, tearing his eyes away from the man who looks just like him. “Seriously.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jin says as a purple flower blooms between them, and he feels his magic pooling inside of him, waiting for him to use it. “And now I can get us out of this mess.”

“Words I never thought I’d hear, Bakanishi,” Yamapi says, and he reaches out and laces their fingers together, and the magic bubbles out, a soft warm rain that extinguishes all the fire and leaves them soaked. “Aren’t you the one getting us in these messes?”

“I guess I grew up a little,” Jin chokes out, looking down at the way Yamapi’s fingers lock so comfortably with his own.

“That only took twenty-eight years,” Yamapi says. He holds his other hand out, and the raindrops fall onto his hands. “Are you sad?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Jin says. “These are tears of joy.” And the raindrops, Jin notices, are changing as they hit the ground, blooming into flowers of purple and gold.

“Jin,” Yamapi says. “I think this is a new low.”

“Shut up,” Jin mumbles. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m just really fucking happy to see you.”

“Never fear, princess,” Yamapi says, a smirk teasing his lips, even though Jin thinks Yamapi’s eyes look a little suspiciously wet as well. “Your prince has come.”

“Fuck you, I’m not a princess,” Jin manages, and he’s laughing and crying and it’s not finished yet.

Jin pulls his hand away from Yamapi’s and walks over to the Lord of the West, who is looking at the charred remains of his main building, which is now overrun with blossoms. He stops in front of him, looking down at the face of a man who could have been him.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Other Jin says. “You’ve won. You, and the power of friendship or whatever tripe you’re going to feed me, have won. So aren’t you going to finish me off?”

Jin sighs. “I probably should,” Jin says. “I don’t know what kind of other trouble you’ll get into, really. There’s only one thing I can do, I guess.”

Jin squats down, wincing as his bruised body rebels, and drags the other Book out of the Lord of the West’s hands, tucking it under his arm with the other.

Then he looks at him. “What do you think? Do you feel punished?”

“That’s it?” The Lord of the West asks. “That’s my punishment?”

“Without this Book,” Jin says. “You can’t change anymore Stories. You can’t interfere with any more lives. You’ll probably be arrested too. The other Guardians are probably pretty pissed at you. And for a long while you’ll have this terrible nagging ache in your stomach that comes along with being separated from your Book.”

Jin looks back behind them, to where Yamapi is examining the glass case that holds his double. He finds the latch, and springs it. An eerie blue smoke wafts out as the double falls into his arms, and Yamapi catches him. It’s unreal, Jin thinks, to see two Yamapi’s. Probably just as unreal as it is for Jin to be lecturing himself.

“But,” Jin says, and he smiles as Other Yamapi opens his eyes. Other Yamapi starts gasping and coughing, but even as he does so, his eyes are searching the room. For Jin. This Other Jin. “I think your Yamapi would miss you. I think if something were to happen to you, your Yamapi would be sad.” Jin’s smile gets even larger, and his heart grows even warmer. Other Jin looks down at himself as flowers appear all over his body, in gold and lavender and pink and orange and violet, like a sunset. “And I’ll never do anything to make Yamapi sad, whether he’s my Yamapi or not.” The Lord of the West looks at Jin, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then his gaze flickers over to his Yamapi, and softens, just a little. Jin knows. Jin can’t imagine any world where Yamapi isn’t one of the most important people he’ll ever know.

Kamenashi comes barreling into the remains of the room, and he stops mid-step when he takes in the garden that’s sprouted where the dark crafted wood used to be.

“Kamenashi,” Yamapi says, with Other Yamapi’s arm wrapped around his neck as they walk slowly to where Jin and the Lord of the West wait. “You’re late!”

“How did you get here so fast?” Kamenashi pants, resting his hands on his thighs as he leans forward. The others are at his heels, charging into the room.

“Magic,” Yamapi says with a wink. His hair is in his eyes, Jin thinks with chagrin. Yamapi should really cut it. Jin will reach up to touch it regardless.

“Well, this looks more like the backdrop for a wedding than a battle-zone,” Taguchi says cheerfully.

“That’s because Jin is a giant fruit,” Yamapi says. Jin wants to protest, but seeing everyone, unharmed, is enough to still the protest behind his lips.

Jin stands, and Other Yamapi, with his long black hair, falls into Jin’s place, eyes making sure Other Jin isn’t too harmed. He looks down at the Lord of the West, and the Lord of the West tears his eyes away from his fully awake Inspiration to return Jin’s gaze.

“So,” Jin says. “I’ve got your Book now.” Jin scratches nervously at his nose with his free hand, the other arm circling two Books. Yamapi is standing at his side, and Jin’s elbow brushes the rough fabric of Yamapi’s shirt as he fidgets. “So you can’t change anyone else’s Stories anymore.” Jin sighs, and he really wants to shove his hands in his pockets, but he doesn’t have any, so instead he just brings the Books to his chest and hugs them. They seem to hum in unison, beating like two anxious hearts in tandem with Jin’s. “The only Story you can change now is your own. You know, the old-fashioned way.” The Lord of the West doesn’t acknowledge Jin’s words, not really, but he does clench his hand a little tighter with Other Yamapi’s. Jin thinks it’s a start.

Jin turns to face Kamenashi now, and Lord Ueda, and Nakamaru and Taguchi and Tanaka. “Did I do okay?” Jin asks, and Tanaka laughs, and Kamenashi barely suppresses a smile. “Kato escaped with Nishikido, and I don’t know where they went—“

“Yes, Jin,” Ueda says. “You did just fine. The rest of it is our job, don’t you agree? We are the Five Guardians. I think we can track down a couple of rogues on the run. Now please go away before we drown in vegetation.”

“You know you’ll miss me, Uepi,” Jin teases, and Ueda raises a single, unimpressed eyebrow at Jin, somehow managing to look down on him despite the fact that Jin’s a bit taller. Yamapi laughs at Jin’s expense, and Jin turns to look at him, and suddenly, Jin feels uncertain.

His eyes flash down to Yamapi’s mouth, almost against his will, before he can force them back up to Yamapi’s eyes, and to his dismay, the garden he’s created is suddenly filled with butterflies.

“I see,” Yamapi says, and Tanaka is laughing at the top of his lungs, while Nakamaru gives Jin a knowing smile. Ueda looks a little like seppuku, ritual suicide by beheading, is a viable option, and Taguchi and Kamenashi look like they’re five seconds away from a high five, if people even know what ‘high fives’ are in alternate worlds where people live like they’re in 1400s Japan. Jin just blushes, and the pink blossoms tickle his face as they bloom in the uncombed tangles of his hair. “I’m going to miss your magic,” Yamapi adds thoughtfully, and Jin looks down at the ground and pretends that golden flowers aren’t tangling themselves in Yamapi’s hair as Yamapi speaks.

“I won’t,” Jin starts to say, but he doesn’t get the chance, because the Books, both of them, start to glow, vibrant and hot, in Jin’s hands. “I guess we’re leaving,” Jin says instead, and Yamapi wraps his fingers around Jin’s upper arm.

“Thank you,” Kamenashi says. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Jin wants to say, along with a hundred other things. It feels like he and Yamapi have been here, in this kingdom, for a lifetime, a whole separate lifetime than the one that’s waiting for them back in Japan. So much has changed for Jin, and it’s too much to explain in a single breath, and Jin knows that’s really all they have left.

In the end, Jin doesn’t end up saying anything at all, and everything goes white.

Jin’s Story ended. Jin and Yamapi disappeared from the kingdom, to return to their own world.

#

Jin’s head is on fire, and in his back there’s a dull ache. He and Yamapi are a tangle of limbs on the floor—the same tangle, Jin fuzzily thinks, as they had been in before everything happened. If everything even happened. There’s a sinking in Jin’s stomach at the thought that he could have imagined it, all of it; the idea that the things that happened to him and Yamapi could all have been in his mind.

There’s a not-so-subtle cough, and Jin peels himself up off of Yamapi, who is beginning to stir beneath him. Jin sits up on the floor, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses (his glasses!) and adjusting to the musty scent in the air. It smells like books—like ink and parchment and old wood. Jin takes a deep breath of it, and opens his eyes. The library, he thinks, and he shifts, and his thighs are encased in familiar denim, and the leather of his belt is digging uncomfortably into his hips. Yamapi sits up next to him, the material of his shorts brushing across Jin’s forearm.

The librarian is looking down on him, with a strange expression in his eyes.

“You two kids didn’t touch any of the books on the top shelf, did you?”

“No sir,” Yamapi says, even as he picks a single golden flower from his long hair, and Jin feels a chill go down his spine at the gleam in the old librarian’s eye. “Of course not, sir.”

“Nope,” Jin says, gulping with the old man turns to stare at him.

“Did you find enough material for your research then, son?” the old librarian asks, and Jin nods effusively. He’s careful not to meet Yamapi’s eyes, but he can feel every single point on his body where they touch now, and he can feel the lingering weight of Yamapi’s fingers between his own.

“Yes, sir,” Jin says. “I think I found way more than I was looking for.”

“You always do, when you open a book,” the librarian says, and his chuckle is hollow. “Might want to help your friend get the flowers out of his hair, though. We don’t have that kind of bloom inside of libraries.” Jin feels his jaw loosen, and his eyes grow wide. He feels Yamapi stiffen beside him, and Jin licks his lips nervously. “The library is going to close early today, so off you go.”

The librarian offers them each a hand, and with surprising strength, he hauls them both up at the same time. “Thanks,” Yamapi says, and his voice is hoarse. Jin supposes universe travel can do that to your vocal chords, but nothing else that’s happened to them seems to have stuck, so it’s confusing nonetheless. Jin's arms are free of scratches, and his forearm and shins no longer throb from where the fire had licked them.

“Oh wait,” the librarian says, as Jin and Yamapi start to exit the aisle, disoriented. “This book doesn’t belong in the library,” he says, and Jin’s eyes take in the two Books he’s holding. In his left hand, the librarian holds The Lord of the West’s book, and in the right, Jin’s. He hands Jin his Book, pulling the Lord of the West’s close with his other hand. “I’ll just return this other one to the shelf, shall I?”

“Okay,” Jin says dumbly as he holds the heavy Book. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” the librarian says, as Yamapi takes the Book from Jin’s hand and puts it in Jin’s bag. Then Yamapi pulls on the strap of Jin’s bag, and Jin follows him outside.

When Jin finds himself on the front steps of the library, the door closing on the little old man and all their misadventures, Yamapi smiling bemusedly at his side, Jin wonders what he’s supposed to do next.

“Let’s go home,” Yamapi says, and wraps his fingers loosely around Jin’s wrist, tugging him forward. Jin’s skin burns where Yamapi’s hand touches, and he feels his face flush as, all at once, Jin remembers the last time Yamapi had grabbed his wrist just like this. Jin’s thankful, at least, that this time there are no actual butterflies, just the ones bouncing around in his gut.

“Pi,” Jin says, and Yamapi looks up at him, smile slipping from his face to be replaced with a more serious expression. “Pi, what…”

“Not yet,” Yamapi says. “Not here.” Yamapi starts to drop his hold on Jin’s wrist, and Jin reaches out reflexively to stop Yamapi from moving away. Yamapi’s eyes enlarge, and Jin feels his breath stop in his throat. “Jin,” Yamapi whispers, and then he swallows, convulsively, as Jin twines their fingers together. Jin watches Yamapi look down at their joined hands, and he notices the way Yamapi’s features are almost too stark in the fading light, too perfect, and Jin wants to reach out and push Yamapi’s hair back from in front of his face so he can take in the whole image.

“I…” Jin starts to say, but he doesn’t know what to say, exactly. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, either, only he knows whatever it is, he doesn’t want Pi to let go of his hand, not now, and maybe not ever. Jin likes the way their hands feel, locked like this. It makes him feels safe, and warm, and like everything is simpler, somehow.

“Let’s go home,” Yamapi repeats, and his voice is still hoarse, but when Jin meets his gaze this time, Yamapi’s smile is blinding. Jin feels a smile tugging and pulling at his own face too, and he wonders how stupid they look, standing on the steps to a library after dark holding hands and grinning widely at each other like they’ve just won the world’s greatest prize.

Jin feels his body thrumming with nervous energy the entire train-ride home, like he’s been electrocuted or something, and he can’t stop wriggling or shaking or tapping his foot anxiously as the train halts at stop after stop. Yamapi is laughing at him; Jin doesn’t have to look at him to know that, because he can feel the quivering of Yamapi’s shoulder pressed tight to his own as more and more people pile into the subway car.

It’s the mid-evening rush, and Jin finds himself pressed against Yamapi’s side. He takes a moment to rest his face in the hollow of Yamapi’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of coffee that always reminds Jin of Yamapi, no matter where they are. Jin’s done the same action, the same gentle press of his nose into the skin of Yamapi’s collar, before, but Yamapi’s never shuddered quite like this, gooseflesh appearing where Jin exhales and jaw clenching with an emotion that Jin’s starting to recognize in himself. And Jin’s never felt the need to get closer rush so strongly through him, like an ocean current driving him farther from sanity and common sense, and closer to falling in love.

When the train arrives at the stop closest to Yamapi's apartment, Jin follows Yamapi out of the train and into the station. He tries to walk out of the subway without scanning his phone to pay the fare, and then he walks into a support beam for good measure; he's so distracted by the way Yamapi's limbs keep accidentally sweeping along his own that he can't concentrate on walking.

He blinks and suddenly they're at the door of Yamapi's flat, and Yamapi is fumbling with the keys. Jin can see that Yamapi's hands are shaking, and so he reaches out to steady Yamapi's hand with his own, and the touch is electric-- it makes him shiver and twist inside, makes him feel like he's a balloon and someone's let him go, and he's floating up and up and up.

Yamapi's tug on his t-shirt is like someone tugging on his string though, catching him before he gets lost in the clouds. "Coming in?" Yamapi asks, like there's a chance in hell Jin is going to say no.

Jin steps into the foyer, looking down at the shoes there as he squats down to untie the laces of his sneakers. At least three of the pairs of shoes are Jin’s own. His fingers don't want to cooperate, and he has to try three times before the laces on his left shoe come undone.

"You didn't lose your favorite shoes, after all," Yamapi says, and Jin's eyes widen as he realizes the shoes are his neon green ones, the ones he'd sworn he'd left behind at the compound of the Five Guardians.

"I guess I didn't," Jin says. "Was that...was any of it real?" Jin's voice is barely a whisper, and he's asking himself more than he's asking Yamapi. Yamapi shifts his weight, and Jin can see the way his slippered feet flex against the hardwood floor.

Jin looks up at Yamapi, who's looking at himself in the mirror by the door, and Jin takes in his clean-shaven face and his unburnt skin. Yamapi is physically untouched. Jin can see no traces of their time in that other world written upon their bodies, but when he looks at Yamapi, really just looks, he knows it's written upon his heart.

"I think it did," Yamapi says, and then he coughs. "I'm going to get some water. Do you want some water?"

"Um, sure," Jin says, and Yamapi shuffles away as Jin steps out of his shoes and into the house. He doesn’t bother with slippers; he never does. The floor is cool beneath his feet, and smooth, and it still doesn't feel real, that he's here and not there, that he's safe and back where he belongs.

He hears Yamapi in the kitchen, making a ton of noise as he opens cupboards looking for glasses, even though this is his apartment and he knows exactly where the glasses are. He sounds nervous, Jin thinks, and Jin's own palms are sweating, and it's scary, Jin thinks. This is so scary, because they've never been nervous around each other before, not ever.

Jin drops his bag down, leaving it in the hallway. After a moment he folds his glasses up too, dropping them into the front pocket carelessly. It’s fine, he thinks. He’s lived without them before.

Jin slips his hands into his pockets, worrying at his lower lip as he remembers the way Yamapi grabbed his wrist outside the library, the way Jin had finally felt like he was home because Yamapi's reassuring touch made everything real. Yamapi always makes things feel real to Jin. It also makes him feel perfect.

That's why it's stupid, Jin thinks, that Yamapi is in the kitchen fumbling for water glasses when Jin just wants to be closer to him, more than he wants to even breathe right now.

Jin slowly walks towards the kitchen and stops in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. He watches the way Yamapi's hands tremble as he pours water from the pitcher into two light pink plastic cups, water splashing over the sides when he makes them too full. Yamapi's shoulders are tense, and his head is bowed, and Jin wants to know what he's thinking.

"Yamapi," Jin says, and Yamapi spins around to face Jin, and Jin wants to gasp at the look in Yamapi's eyes. The look in Yamapi's eyes is one that Jin knows...he thinks the same look might be in his own eyes, because the desperate longing to be closer is crawling up inside him, clinging to his ribs and pressing down on his lungs, and Jin wants to gasp for air because he just wants... "I’m cashing in my rain-check," Jin says, and then he tackles Yamapi to the floor.

Yamapi yelps as he hits the floor, both of them crashing down to the cream-colored tile as Jin lands sprawling on top of Yamapi, legs naturally falling on either side of the other man, and Yamapi is looking at Jin with those eyes, those dark, bottomless eyes, and Jin never really got why people write love songs about shit like that but maybe now he does, because in Yamapi's eyes there’s something really beautiful, and Jin doesn't want to look away. "Jin," Yamapi says, and then he takes a deep breath, like he's going to say something else, but Jin doesn't give him the chance, because Jin is pressing his mouth to Yamapi's. There's no restraint in it, only desperation and need and a little bit of insanity, and Jin feels like he's drowning in it, and Yamapi opens up beneath him so easily that Jin thinks maybe he's drowning too.

"Shut up," Jin says, when he pulls back panting. "Stop wasting time and kiss me."

Yamapi laughs, but his laugh is swallowed as Jin dives down again, taking advantage of Yamapi's open mouth to venture forward with an eager tongue, mapping the inside of Yamapi's mouth all over again. The coffee taste is still there, delicious and hot and like everything Jin's ever wanted, and Yamapi's hands wander up to rest against Jin's thighs, and Jin can feel the weight of them even through the denim of his jeans. Yamapi sighs, and Jin swallows that too, and he brings his own hands to Yamapi's, lifting them from Jin’s legs, and lacing their fingers together again, pressing the backs of Yamapi's hands against the tile of the floor on either side of Yamapi's head, unrelenting in his kiss.

Jin feels like the whole world has come to a stop. Like everything is standing still in this one moment, and the only thing that can possibly happening right now is this. He and Yamapi, right now, mouths sloppily meeting over and over again as they try to melt together into one.

Jin had always thought he'd confess his love to the girl of his dreams in some super romantic way. On a pier at sunset, with a dozen roses in hand, or maybe at the beach, both of them sitting on a blanket in the summer sand as Jin strummed a guitar and sang sweetly out toward the ocean waves. Maybe he'd take her to a romantic restaurant, and then afterwards they'd go walking hand and hand through the park and Jin would whisper I love you into her ear, and then they'd kiss under the starlight.

But none of those things are what happen. Jin pulls away from Yamapi's drugging kisses and looks down at him, dark chestnut hair spread out beneath him, lips full and swollen and parted, eyes wide and shining, and he feels like he's going to combust with it all. Like everything he's read and seen and thought before, about love, is nothing compared to the real thing, this real and actual thing that is eating him alive. "I love you," Jin says, and it's not a pier, or a beach, or a park, and he doesn't have any props, like roses or a guitar or a fancy dinner, and Yamapi is certainly not a girl, by any stretch of the imagination, no matter how much make-up he wears or how long his hair gets. But Jin's heart is in his eyes, and Jin thinks nothing really matters apart from that, because Yamapi's face becomes the soppiest, gayest thing in the whole world and he's glowing. "I just wanted to say that," Jin says, suddenly bashful. Jin’s pretty sure if they were still there, in the other world, the kitchen would be filled with bright pink flowers.

"I love you too, Bakanishi," Yamapi says, and Jin thinks maybe Yamapi's stupid sappy face has got some competition.

They’re lying on Yamapi’s kitchen floor, and it’s kind of dusty and the floor is cold and hard, and he didn’t plan it at all. It’s all of those things, and yet it's probably the most romantic thing that's ever happened to Jin, and he feels like his emotions are going haywire, feeling so much all at once.

“I don’t know why, because you’re impulsive and reckless and kind of flaky—“ Yamapi begins, and Jin scrunches his nose.

“Wow, so many good qualities,” Jin murmurs, his stomach suddenly uncoiling, because Yamapi is looking at Jin like Jin cured cancer all by himself. He feels like laughing, all of a sudden, and like nothing will ever go wrong again, not if he’s got Yamapi by his side. Jin would go through all of it, all the pain and fear and hardship that they faced, all over again, just to get to here, just so he could have this moment.

“But,” Yamapi says, and his voice wavers. “You’re also brave, and giving, and kind…” Yamapi’s voice trails off, before he swallows, and Jin doesn’t once think of looking away. “Sometimes I see you and I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

Jin wonders if it’s possible to love someone so much there’s not enough room in your heart for it all.

Jin thinks gold and purple flowers should be spilling out the windows.

He scrambles off of Yamapi, and then pulls the other man up, and Yamapi falls into him, and Jin kisses him again. It’s like he never wants to do anything else, ever, and then Yamapi’s hands slide up under Jin’s shirt, and Jin thinks maybe he’d like to do that, too. His own hands find their way into the back pockets of Yamapi’s shorts, pulling him closer, and Jin has to choke back a groan when he realizes that Yamapi is hard, cock pressing against Jin’s as their mouths slip against each other. “Um,” Jin says, and Yamapi laughs, lips gliding to Jin’s cheek and across his jaw, before he takes Jin’s earlobe into his mouth, eliciting a stifled moan from Jin’s throat, and making Jin wonder how he’s supposed to focus on everything that’s happening all at once.

Jin’s been with girls. Jin’s had a lot of sex. But nothing’s ever felt like this before, and he’s still got all his clothes on, and it’s the most erotic thing. “My room?” Yamapi asks, and Jin doesn’t bother to answer, not when he can pull Yamapi with him, hands slipping from Yamapi’s pockets to hook onto his belt, dragging him by the buckle.

Yamapi laughs, and then stumbles over a cushion on the floor to the living room, and Jin kisses him again, just because he can. Then Jin bumps into the couch, and almost falls, but Yamapi catches him, and Jin holds onto Yamapi’s forearms as Yamapi takes the lead, walking slowly backwards until the reach the doorway to his bedroom.

Yamapi hesitates, and Jin’s heart skips a beat too, because even though he wants this, it’s still scary, because this is Yamapi and he can’t mess this up.

Yamapi has been there through it all, a warm shoulder and a comforting hand in Jin’s hair and a soft smile with a hint of teeth when Jin’s sad and a malicious grin when he’s being teased. Yamapi can know at a glance what Jin can’t say in words, and Jin’s never taken that for granted.

Yamapi seems to read that now as he studies Jin, because his smile is back, and he pulls Jin through the doorway. It’s not the first time Jin’s been in here, not by a long shot, but it’s the first time Jin’s wanted to strip Yamapi naked before he can make it to the bed. It’s the first time he wanted to kiss every inch of the exposed skin at Yamapi’s chest, lips skating along the line of the low neckline.

Jin settles for a kiss, but then he trips again, this time over the hem of his own jeans, and Yamapi chortles, and this…this is okay. Familiar in all the right ways, and exciting too. The taste of Yamapi’s skin under questing lips is new, but the way Yamapi’s hands grip his waist to steady him isn’t. The way Yamapi gasps as Jin nips along his collarbone where it’s exposed by the ‘v’ of his shirt is different, but the way Jin’s heart warms when Pi holds him close is definitely the same.

“Why am I so clumsy?” Jin mutters, and Yamapi laughs again, and Jin doesn’t feel stupid at all, because Yamapi is still Yamapi, no matter how much Jin wants to kiss him.

It’s this realization that makes it all perfect, in the end.

“Everything I do with you is always an adventure,” Yamapi says, as Jin tugs at Yamapi’s shirt, pulling it up. Yamapi releases his grip on Jin’s hips just long enough to yank it over his head, before his hands slide back up along Jin’s sides. Jin’s shirt soon follows Yamapi’s to the floor in a heap.

Despite the aching arousal that courses through him as Yamapi’s hands wander across the bared expanse of his torso, Jin laughs. “Isn’t that the fun of it?” Jin asks, and Yamapi grins.

“Yeah,” Yamapi says, and pressed his lips to Jin’s sternum, leaving a kiss that’s almost out of place in its gentleness. “I think maybe it’s just that you are the adventure.”

Jin runs his hands up along Yamapi’s back until he reaches the nape of Yamapi’s neck. He buries his hands in the hair there, and drags Yamapi up until he can bring Yamapi’s mouth down to his own. “If I’m the adventure,” Jin whispers against Yamapi’s lips, “then you’d better hold tight, Indiana Jones, because you’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Yamapi replies, and Jin feels like if he thinks too hard about the feeling swirling in his chest right now, he’ll die. So instead he lifts up and captures Yamapi’s mouth with his own, slipping his tongue into Yamapi’s mouth and relishing the soft moan that Yamapi gives him in return. He can feel the moan more than hear it, and that’s okay, because Jin wants to feel everything.

They fall to the bed, legs tangling above the duvet, and they lie side by side, hands roving, just feeling.

Yamapi’s hands slide across Jin’s chest, stopping to rub his thumbs across the hardening buds of Jin’s nipples, and Jin hisses into Yamapi’s mouth at the sensation. Yamapi is hard against his thigh, and Jin is sure he’s just as hard now, and it’s confusing, because yeah, Jin’s slept with tons of chicks, but he’s slept with zero dudes, and he’s only got a vague idea of how this works. It makes him want to panic, because Jin is dangerous enough when he does know what he’s doing, let alone when he doesn’t. Yamapi’s hands roam anxiously along Jin’s ribs, and his mouth doesn’t get any less demanding. Jin subconsciously raises his hips for more friction, and Yamapi groans, and then begins to kiss his way down Jin’s neck. He lingers at Jin’s collarbones, and it makes Jin shiver, because it tickles but at the same time it sends a jolt straight to his groin. “Pi?” Jin says anxiously, even as his hips push up again. “Pi.”

Yamapi ignores him, and instead latches his lips to Jin’s nipple, tongue lathing across it and the aureole, as his fingers tease the other. It makes it harder to concentrate, but Jin’s determined.

“Pi,” Jin says again, and Yamapi looks up, and he must see the panic in Jin’s eyes because he pauses.

“What?” Yamapi, Jin thinks, has a faultless mouth, especially when is red and swollen from kisses. “What’s wrong?”

“What are we…?” Jin doesn’t know how to ask, really, and now he feels kind of stupid for stopping Yamapi in the first place, because Yamapi’s hands are running distractingly up and down Jin’s stomach, leaving shivers in their wake. “I’m out of my depth.”

“What else is new, Bakanishi?” Yamapi says, as his lips resume their exploration of Jin’s chest, kissing his way down Jin’s belly to the waist of his jeans.

“Don’t call me ‘Bakanishi’ when you’re that close to my dick,” Jin says, and he swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

Yamapi laughs, but his gaze is sweltering. His hands undo Jin’s belt, and slides the zipper down. Then Yamapi blows hot air on Jin’s erection through the cotton of his underwear, and Jin’s not sure if his heart is still beating. “Jin,” Yamapi says, and his eyes are asking permission. Jin nods, and then Yamapi is pulling down Jin’s jeans and underwear in one tug. Jin lifts his hips to help him, and then Yamapi falls between Jin’s legs as Jin’s pants fall to the floor.

“So,” Yamapi says conversationally, “I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m doing.”

Jin’s about to make some smartass comment, but then Yamapi is licking the crown of his erection, tongue circling the tip, and Jin doesn’t have words anymore. He doesn’t really remember what words sound like, at the moment. He makes a gargling noise, that he’s not even really sure is human noise, and Yamapi is laughing around his cock, and Jin thinks that’s even better.

“I take it back,” Jin says, when Yamapi lets him slip out from between his lips, watching Jin steadily. “You can call me whatever you want as long as you don’t stop.”

Yamapi doesn’t say anything, but Jin can see the Bakanishi in his eyes, and it’s like the fear melts away.

Then there’s only pleasure. Yamapi crawls back up and works his way back into Jin’s mouth. Jin opens for him easily, tasting a little bit of himself on Yamapi’s tongue, and maybe even that is hot, because Jin’s not sure he’s ever wanted someone so bad. His body is aching for something he doesn’t understand.

Yamapi’s not like some girl. Yamapi is solid in all the way girls are soft, and thick where girls are thin and thin where girls are thick. Jin’s hands travel across the expanse of muscles and this is all new, and Jin thinks it’s better, better than anything. Because it’s Yamapi, and Jin’s always liked Yamapi better.

Jin almost doesn’t notice when Yamapi reaches over to his bedside table, rummaging for something, but Jin sees the familiar foil package and a bottle of lube, the expensive kind with the plastic snap cap that Jin doesn’t buy because he always forgets to snap it back and then he’s got lube everywhere. Yamapi distracts Jin with kisses. As far as distractions go, it’s a good one, and Jin hears the bottle open. “Can I…?” Yamapi asks, in small gasps, and Jin’s not a hundred percent sure what Yamapi is asking for, but Jin’s body is begging for something and maybe Yamapi knows what it is.

“Yeah,” Jin says. “Yeah.”

And then there’s a touch, somewhere Jin’s never been touched before, and it’s shocking. Jin freezes at the contact. Yamapi’s finger is cool, and slick, and Jin wants to shy away from it. “Relax,” Yamapi says. “You know you can trust me.”

Jin does. He spreads his legs a little further, inviting Yamapi closer even as he bites his lip and closes his eyes. It feels strange, Jin thinks, as Yamapi wriggles in the single slippery digit, crooking it inside of Jin. It’s awkward, and Jin feels weirdly full, even at just the tiny intrusion. But he doesn’t dislike it, either, and his cock is still hard, begging for attention as it rests against Jin’s stomach, Jin shifts a little, and pulls his legs up to his chest.

With anyone else, Jin would be embarrassed, but this is Yamapi, and when Jin opens his eyes to look at him, the look Yamapi gives him back is so doting and mushy that Jin feels like a girl on prom night, in a good way, and puts his hands on the backs of his thighs to hold them up. “Is it okay?” Yamapi asks. “Am I hurting you?”

Jin means to answer, but then Yamapi’s finger is brushing something that makes Jin feel like he could fill the whole room with flowers. “Ahhhh,” is all he says instead, as Yamapi adds a second finger, scissoring them to stretch. Jin feels like his whole body is on fire, like it’s pleading for something but Jin doesn’t know quite what it is. “More,” Jin says, because that’s all he knows. All he can say.

Yamapi laughs, and it’s a deeper voice than Jin’s ever heard from Yamapi, and Yamapi is hitting that spot that sends sparks shooting through him, and Jin just wants… “You’re so bad with words,” Yamapi says, and Jin gasps as he punctuates his sentence with a third finger.

“Fuck me,” Jin says, and Yamapi pauses, for just a moment, and then he’s sliding his fingers out, leaving Jin feeling empty. Jin wants to feel that strange fullness again; he wants it so bad he can feel it in the tips of his fingers and the tips of his toes, rushing through him so fast he can barely catch his breath. “Please,” he says, and then Yamapi is kissing him, and Jin can hear the crinkle of foil, can feel the anxiousness in every quivering muscle of Yamapi’s back as he drags his nails up along it, until he can bury his hands in Yamapi’s soft hair. The strands are wet with perspiration, and Jin likes the way they cling to his fingers as he drags Yamapi closer. Their mouths mold together like they are made to meet, and Jin moans, loudly, as Yamapi’s thigh brushes across his needy cock. Yamapi swallows the sound, his tongue caressing Jin’s one last time before he pulls back.

“Maybe you’re not that bad with words,” Yamapi says, and Jin wants to make a retort but he’s having trouble finding air. He never thought this would be so hot; he’d never really thought about sex with guys at all, to be honest, but there’s something about the way Yamapi’s fingers felt inside him stretching him open, that makes Jin feel more turned on than he’s ever felt in his life.

Maybe because it’s Yamapi, so it’s okay to feel laid bare and vulnerable. Because even though they’ve never been this, exactly, they’ve always seen all of each other.

Jin watches through heavy lidded eyes as Yamapi fumbles with the condom wrapper, swearing when it slips between his lube-slicked hands. Jin laughs, and Yamapi looks up at him with a grin, and Jin would have thought this’d be awkward, but it isn’t. This is just them, after all. Just Yamapi and Jin, and everything is just the way it should be. Jin curls forward so he’s sitting and takes the packet from Yamapi’s hands, opening it with fingers that barely shake. “You’re hopeless without me,” Jin says then, and Yamapi releases a tiny chuckle, a breathless one that makes Jin shiver.

“Isn’t that backwards?” Yamapi says, pressing a kiss to Jin’s nose.

Jin licks his lips, and Yamapi, who’s kneeling in front of him, between Jin’s spread legs, leans forward and takes Jin’s lips again, just for a moment. Then Jin pulls back and reaches for Yamapi’s cock.

It’s heavy in his hand, and it feels so different from Jin’s own. Jin’s hand slides up and down on reflex, memorizing the way the skin feels beneath his fingertips, and the gasps and tiny groans that Yamapi makes when his thumb lingers along the slit. Jin doesn’t take his eyes off Yamapi’s face, the way his skin flushes along the line of his cheekbones, the sheen of sweat across his brown, the way his lips part as Jin strokes him slowly, the way his eyes are watching Jin right back. Jin doesn’t want to miss a moment of it.

It feels natural as Jin rolls the condom down onto Yamapi’s erection, and even more natural when Yamapi pushes him back, and it’s not gentle at all, and it reminds Jin of being sixteen and of being twenty-two, and of right now, too, because Yamapi is looking at him with those sparkling eyes, like Jin’s hung the moon and the stars and maybe the whole universe, and Jin’s pretty sure he’s looking at Yamapi the same way.

Jin gulps when Yamapi squirts more lube onto his hand and quickly wets the condom with it. But then Yamapi slides his fingers back in, just for a minute, and that burning urgency hits Jin again, and he’s arching his hips up to match Yamapi’s thrusting fingers. Every so often Yamapi’s fingers will brush along the muscles, pressing something that makes Jin shudder, and his other hand circles the base of Jin’s cock, keeping Jin at full hardness. “Why do you always take forever to do anything?” Jin pants, and Yamapi grins.

“Why are you always in such a hurry?”

“Fuck me before I change my mind,” Jin says, and Yamapi searches inside for Jin’s prostate, and finds it, sending Jin’s eyes rolling back in his head. “You know how I—“

And Yamapi is pressing in, slow and steady, and Jin feels every millimeter, the way it pulses and stretches and aches, too. When Yamapi stills, arms trembling as he holds himself above Jin. Jin’s been holding his breath, and now he lets go of all the air at once, letting it rush out of him as he tries to relax. He feels full, in a way he’s never felt before, and also like he’s going to burst.

This time, when Jin meets Yamapi’s gaze, it’s Yamapi who looks scared, like maybe it’s all too much. Jin unclenches his hands from where they’ve fisted in the sheets, and puts his left hand up to Yamapi’s face. He brushes Yamapi’s bangs out of his eyes. “You need to cut your hair,” Jin manages on his next inhale, and Yamapi’s face relaxes, just a little. Jin experimentally shifts his hips, adjusting to the feeling of having Yamapi inside of him.

“You like it like this,” Yamapi retorts, his voice shaking, and then Yamapi growls as Jin tightens around him, testing the pressure. “Jin, can I—“

“Yes,” Jin says, and then, Yamapi is moving, and Jin has no idea what’s up and what’s down, because all he can focus on is Yamapi’s steady thrusting in and out, driving Jin higher and higher. “Pi, that’s—“

“Jin,” Yamapi says, and his voice cracks in the middle and Jin thinks it might be the sexiest thing he’s ever heard, and maybe he wouldn’t mind hearing it again and again. “Jin.”

Jin’s hands grab on to Yamapi’s biceps, the thick muscles flexing under his palms, and his inner thighs press against Yamapi’s hips. Jin’s hanging on to anything he can, searching for an anchor in a sea of sensation.

When Yamapi brings one of his hands down to wrap around Jin’s erection, jerking quickly up and down, Jin has to fight to keep his eyes open, but closing his eyes isn’t an option, not when Yamapi is so stunning above him, inside him, everywhere around him, smelling of coffee and sex.

When Yamapi comes, throwing his head back, Jin finally lets himself go too, shattering into pieces. It spreads through him, and Jin is standing chest-deep in Lake Chuuzenji, and there’s nothing in the world but Yamapi, who is shuddering and raw and beautiful, and then there’s the white light Jin sees for just a moment when he finally lets his eyes fall closed.

Yamapi collapses boneless on top of him, Jin’s release sticky between them. Yamapi’s breath is harsh and labored against Jin’s neck, too, and that’s okay, because Jin’s air isn’t coming any easier. “Too heavy,” Jin says, and Yamapi grunts and doesn’t move. Jin doesn’t really mind, because Yamapi is warm, and Jin can still feel distinctly where they’re joined, Yamapi settled easily between his legs, like it’s where he belongs.

“It’s all muscle,” Yamapi says, and Jin laughs, and he means to shove at Yamapi but finds his arms wrapping around his neck instead, hands finding their way into Yamapi’s hair.

“Whatever,” Jin says, and then Yamapi’s lips seek his, lazily kissing the corner of Jin’s mouth, then right above it, before Yamapi’s lips settle against his own once more.

It seems like hours, to Jin, that they kiss, lips pressing anxiously against each other, hands clutching at each other like they are afraid the other is going to pull away, that this is all something out of a storybook that will disappear if either of them closes their eyes. Maybe like they’re afraid that this will all fade away too, like the kingdom; nothing but a memory in the wake of reality.

When the kisses turn slow and lazy, Jin pulls away just the slightest bit, his lips resting against the soft skin of Yamapi’s cheek. Yamapi finally pulls out, tying the condom in a knot at the top and throwing it lazily toward his bedside trashcan. Then he collapses back against Jin. Jin curls toward him, suddenly feeling needy, like he’s afraid to let go of Yamapi. “Don’t fall asleep,” Jin whispers, and Yamapi pulls Jin tighter against him, wrapping his arms around Jin’s shoulders until Jin is almost crushed into him.

“Don’t worry,” Yamapi says. “This isn’t a Story, this is real life. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” His breath is warm against Jin’s heavy eyelids, and Jin feels safe, and warm, and a little like he’s dreaming already.

“You’re wrong,” Jin mumbles against the skin of Yamapi’s shoulder. “For once, you’re wrong.”

“About what?” Yamapi asks, and Jin doesn’t have to open his eyes to know Yamapi is smiling at him, one side of his mouth quirked up in an inquisitive grin.

“This is a Story,” Jin tells him. “I cheated though, and read the end.” Jin nuzzles his nose against Yamapi’s. “And you know what? We’re going to live happily ever after.”

#

Jin leaves early the next afternoon for Los Angeles. Yamapi is still sleeping, his chest rising and falling slowly as Jin slips out of bed. Jin presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

“See you soon,” he whispers, and a fierce contentment wells up inside him. There’s a goofy smile on his face the whole trip back to his own apartment, all the way until he calls a taxi and zips his overfull suitcase closed. He’s in a haze.

The taxi passes by the library, on the way to the airport.

Or it would have, but the library is gone, replaced by a Family Mart that looks like it’s been there for years, and Jin knows that isn’t possible. But now, Jin also knows that maybe nothing is impossible.

Anything can happen, Jin thinks, and Yamapi’s sleeping face appears in his mind’s eye, and Jin feels like the whole car is filled with butterflies.

#

“Wow, Akanishi,” the director says, as Jin completes a perfect arc with his sword, casually sliding it home into it’s sheath with little difficulty. He easily pushes his sleeves out of the way without a hint of struggle, feeling at home in his costume as he walks off the green-screen set to get some water before another take. “I really want to commend you on your research. It’s like you’ve lived in the Muromachi Period before. Amazing.”

“I’ll do anything for my art,” Jin says, and he somehow suppresses the chuckle that pushes urgently against his sternum. He imagines the face Ueda, sitting upon his favorite bench beside the koi pond, would have made, had Jin said something so pretentious in front of him. Jin thinks the real Ueda would make the exact same face. “Excuse me for a moment,” Jin says, and the director nods.

He sends an email to Yamapi.

Director thinks I’m awesome, and I’m a terrific researcher, it says, and Jin sends it triumphantly.

Yamapi’s return message makes it in minutes, beeping on Jin’s phone as Jin is about to take a huge bite of pizza. Director is easily fooled, Yamapi’s written, and Jin chokes on a slice of pepperoni. He doesn’t realize you only got as far as learning how to pull it from the sheath and putting it back in before Ueda gave up on you doing any more than the stage shit you learned for Ronin.

Then a second mail. But I guess you’re pretty awesome, anyway.

Jin beams, and they have to do the next take five times because Jin can’t suppress his smile.

#

Yamapi is waiting in Jin’s apartment when Jin comes home from Narita International Airport, carrying a heavy duffel bag and rolling his suitcase behind him. Yamapi’s always had a key, so Jin’s not really surprised when he sees Yamapi sitting in the middle of the floor in Jin’s living room, take-out spread all around him, cheeks puffy with shumai.

“So it’s not as cool as a magical adventure,” Yamapi says, and Jin drops his bags where he stands. “But I thought you might be tired, and I figured this would work as a second date.”

Yamapi looks a little worried, and Jin falls in love all over again. “I missed you,” Jin says, and normally he’d be totally embarrassed at the way his voice is cracking but he’s too happy to be embarrassed.

“I missed you too—ack!” Yamapi says, as Jin tackles him.

When Jin kisses him, Jin thinks this is the best possible ending to his Story, and he doesn’t need any magic at all to experience something magical. Not when his Inspiration is right here waiting for him.

#

It’s early morning, and the sun is barely peeking through the window. Scattered, half-eaten boxes of takeout and last night’s clothes cover the floor, and Jin and Yamapi lay together, naked and tangled on the floor, Jin’s hair in Yamapi’s mouth and Yamapi’s arm wrapped snugly around Jin.

Overlooking both of them is Jin’s bookshelf, filled with coffee table books about everything ranging from church windows to cars to cooking, because Jin likes the pictures. There’s one book that’s a little out of place. Somehow, it starts to wobble in place, making its way to the edge of the bookshelf until it lays precariously along the edge, shaking to and fro.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the Book starts to glow.