Word count: 4627
Summary: They've known each other a long time.
Author's notes: Written for musikologie for je_holiday.
Dance practice for NewS's latest PV went late enough that by the time Yamapi left the jimusho, Jin was already waiting out front for him, one hip propped on Yamapi's car like the world's biggest, shiniest hood ornament.
"I thought I told you not to use the spare keys to my car except in absolute emergencies," Yamapi said.
Jin shrugged. "I got bored waiting."
"I still don't understand why you'd want to spend so much on a car that you never get to take over 35 kmph," Shige commented to Yamapi.
Shige's assessment of Tokyo's driving speeds was undeniably accurate, but there were more important considerations, such as... "Because it's cool," Yamapi said.
"Yeah," Jin said, "because it's cool, Kato-kun."
Shige just rolled his eyes. "I don't know why I bother talking to the two of you."
"Because you love us," Jin suggested.
"That's the only explanation that makes any sense," Shige agreed, and Jin's face lit up at having won the argument so easily. "It definitely can't be because I'm getting anything productive out of these conversations," Shige continued, followed by a sharp ow as he failed to dodge the quick punch Jin threw at him.
"So smart, and he hasn't even learned how to duck yet," Ryo said mournfully, coming over while Shige was busy rubbing his sore arm.
"At least I didn't need four takes before I was able to lipsynch the right lyrics," Shige said. It wasn't an entirely fair criticism--Ryo's and Massu's parts had been switched last minute, and the swap had thrown all of them--but Shige wasn't the type to be generous during an argument.
Of course, neither was Ryo. "Should I tell Jin how long it took you to nail that step, spin, kick, crossover change in the bridge?" he asked, and Shige flushed a dull red.
"Only if you want me to tell him what you said about him during lunch today."
"What did you say about me?" Jin demanded, and Ryo shot Shige an annoyed glare.
"Nothing. Shige's just making shit up."
"Pi?" Jin asked turning wide eyes on Yamapi pleadingly.
"I didn't hear Ryo say anything," Yamapi said. It was the truth, but he would have said it even if it weren't. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and reached the other out to Jin. "Keys? I don't wanna dig for mine."
"You're not too tired?" Jin asked, running a casually proprietary hand over the hood of Yamapi's car.
"Not any more than you," Yamapi said and wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand. Jin dropped the keys into his palm with an exaggerated sigh. "Thank you," Yamapi said, going around to the other side of the car to get into the driver's seat.
"Drive safe," Koyama called.
Yamapi gave him a wave of acknowledgment, then waited for Jin to finish buckling himself in.
"Okay, let's burn rubber," Jin said, bouncing a little in his seat.
Yamapi grinned even as he shook his head and started the car forward at the normal speed. Every member of Johnny's with a driver's license got called into Mary's office and threatened with extreme consequences should he so much as run a red light. The jimusho could handle a lot of scandals, but vehicular manslaughter was a little harder to cover up. Mary was fiercely determined that it never become an issue.
Besides, the best part of Yamapi's car wasn't the wind whipping through his hair as he flew down the road, the landscape flashing by in a blur...though Yamapi would admit to more than one fantasy with that scene as its subject. No, it was the smoothness as he shifted gears, the way the car was steady but responsive to his hands on the wheel.
Yamapi glanced over at Jin to see him looking out the window with a half-smile on his face, one hand stroking the buttery leather seat absently. "You could buy your own car," he said. "Even considering the way you run through money, I'm sure you could afford it."
Jin turned to look at him, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe." He grinned. "Except then I wouldn't have an excuse to borrow yours."
"Exactly," Yamapi said, not really meaning it, and Jin laughed.
"You're just jealous because she likes me better."
"Have I told you that your delusions are getting a little scary?"
"Pi. You just don't understand the bond between a man and his, um..."
"Best friend's car?" Yamapi asked.
Jin shrugged. "Well, when you put it like that," he said, and laughed again. Yamapi didn't know how he had the energy for that much joy; his own muscles were aching from dance practice, with a sharper ache in his hand from signing autographs for several hours the day before. Still, Yamapi found himself smiling as he drove the two of them home.
"I'll suck yours if you'll suck mine," Jin said, setting his half-drained glass on the table so carelessly that it was amazing he didn't tip its entire contents, brown whiskey and darker brown cola, to spill onto their cream-colored rug. ("Bad for stains," Yamapi's mother had said when she saw it. "Depends on the stain," Jin had whispered breathlessly into Yamapi's ear, and Yamapi had elbowed him sharply in the ribs, hoping to God that his mother hadn't overheard.)
Yamapi swallowed a drunken giggle and took another sip from his own glass. Get enough alcohol into Jin--where "enough" meant "more than two drinks"--and his normal preoccupation with sex became a full-blown obsession.
"I'll even do you first," Jin wheedled, reaching up to toy clumsily with the drawstring of Yamapi's sweatpants.
Yamapi shivered a little, his legs spreading almost involuntarily. The few times they'd done this before, he'd discovered that Jin had a nasty habit of falling asleep post-orgasm. It didn't always turn out that way, but it had happened enough that Yamapi was understandably wary.
"Pi?" Jin asked, leaning his head against Yamapi's knee, his breath warm and damp through the thin layer of fabric.
"Yeah, okay," Yamapi said thickly.
Jin grinned up at him. He untied the drawstring and pulled the sweatpants down when Yamapi lifted his hips, then slipped them off each ankle. The socks he left on; Yamapi's feet got cold easily.
Most of the people Yamapi slept with took a while to work up to anything major, but Jin almost always dove right in. He slid his hands up Yamapi's thighs to his hips and leaned forward to slide his mouth down Yamapi's cock.
It took real effort to not snap his hips up off the couch, and Yamapi belatedly realized that he was squeezing the glass in his hand dangerously tight. "Jin, wait a second," he said.
Jin made an indignant sound around Yamapi's cock and stroked his tongue up the underside.
Yamapi shuddered helplessly. "Jin, I've got..." he began, a little desperately, before giving up further attempts at explanation as a bad bet. He reached his free hand down to clasp the back of Jin's neck and ease him off just a few inches as he leaned forward to place the glass on the table, then slumped back against the sofa again with a groan when Jin took the opportunity to flick his tongue hard along the underside of Yamapi's cock.
He could feel Jin's lips tighten in an effort to not smile. He brushed his fingers along the soft skin of Jin's neck, traced the curve of Jin's jaw with his thumb. His other hand felt suddenly empty, and he brought it up to cradle Jin's head, his fingers twisting in glossy hair, a bit sticky with product.
Jin hummed in response, a soft, buzzing sensation on oversensitive skin. Yamapi's fingers tightened involuntarily, and Jin gasped. It was the good sort of gasp; Yamapi knew from other times. Still, he couldn't keep himself from petting Jin's hair in apology.
Another sound from Jin's throat, more like a purr this time. One of Jin's hands slid over to cup Yamapi's balls, and Yamapi shifted his legs a little farther apart to give him room. Jin's mouth was getting sloppier, and Yamapi could almost anticipate to the second the moment when the strain in Jin's jaw got to be too much and he lifted up to catch his breath. He kissed the head of Yamapi's cock, his fingers still playing with his balls. Then he leaned forward and nuzzled Yamapi's wet cock with his cheek, and just staring down at that image was enough to make Yamapi's heart jump and the slow ache of arousal settle lower in his stomach.
"Jin, please," he whispered, tugging gently at his hair, and Jin followed Yamapi's lead obligingly and took his cock back into his mouth, sucking sweet and hard for the last half a minute that it took for Yamapi to cry out and come in Jin's mouth.
Yamapi tried to untangle his fingers from Jin's hair, but they wouldn't work right; eventually, Jin reached up and did it himself. Then he sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, watching with a pleased look on his face as Yamapi's shuddery breaths began to slow and as he started feeling as though his nerves might be good for something other than tingling happily.
"My turn now?" Jin asked, just as Yamapi was about to suggest the same thing.
"Sure." He expected Jin to take his place on the sofa, but instead Jin grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the floor. Jin's jeans were harder to remove than his own sweatpants had been, the denim stiff and fashionably tight, but they managed eventually, and Yamapi let Jin guide his head down to his crotch.
His cock was already wet at the tip, and Yamapi rested his head on the soft curve of Jin's belly and licked up the salty-sweet taste of precome. Jin didn't tend to last very long, even when he'd been drinking, so Yamapi didn't settle into a rhythm that would let this be over too quickly. He traced circles around the head with his tongue; leaned forward to give wet, sucking kisses along the curve of the shaft; slid Jin's cock into his mouth to suck him, but pulled away again when Jin's moans became too noisy and desperate; teased the slit with his tongue and lapped up more precome.
He lost himself in the mindless pleasure of playing with Jin's cock, until Jin was shaking continually beneath him, his hands clenched at his sides and his moans almost painful. One last, sucking slide down, and Yamapi swallowed carefully around Jin's cock, the head pressed against the back of his throat with blunt pressure, and Jin's stomach tensed suddenly as he shuddered in orgasm.
Yamapi coughed a little as he pulled off. Jin patted his back clumsily, his reflexes shot by some combination of alcohol, orgasm, and encroaching sleep. Then Yamapi got dressed in his sweatpants again and yanked Jin's jeans back on--with very little assistance from Jin--since sleeping bare-assed naked on the cold floor wasn't exactly conducive to preserving your singing voice.
The next morning, Yamapi's luck with hangovers, or the lack thereof, continued to hold, and he woke up feeling only a faint prickly pressure behind his eyes, while Jin was moaning pitifully on the floor. He jumped to his feet with rather more joie de vivre than he actually felt, not being above rubbing it in a little, and said, "Breakfast?"
"Fuck you," Jin groaned.
Yamapi restrained the urge to kick him--gently--in the head, since he didn't want to clean up the mess if Jin's stomach were less steady than usual, and went into the kitchen to fix their typical post-alcohol breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, heavy on the butter.
Jin stumbled into the kitchen just as he was pouring him a large glass of water. Jin made grabby hands, and Yamapi passed him the glass, watching in satisfaction as Jin downed half of it in a few gulps.
"Breakfast's ready," he said, just in case Jin might have missed the two full plates at the table.
Jin's face went a sort of grayish-white, but he sat down to eat manfully. Yamapi took a moment to pour himself a glass of water, as well, and then joined him. His stomach was a little queasy, and he'd probably have skipped breakfast if he were alone, but as it was he had to set a good example for Jin.
"Thanks, Pi," Jin said, after ten minutes of determined chewing and swallowing, when his plate was shining clean, even the excess butter sopped up with a bit of toast. He set his plate and glass in the sink and patted Yamapi on the shoulder companionably as he headed towards the door.
"Hey, what about the dishes?" The rule was that the cook didn't have to clean.
"Can't," Jin called over his shoulder. "I have to be at the jimusho at nine today. I'll be late if I don't leave in ten minutes."
"You'll be late even if you do leave in ten minutes," Yamapi said, frowning at the clock.
"No, I won't," Jin shouted from the general vicinity of his bedroom.
Fifty minutes later, Yamapi received a text message that read, in its entirety: Told you so.
Bakanishi, he wrote back, it's 9:08!!!
Jin didn't reply.
Any debt Jin owed him for cooking and washing dishes was soon repaid, as Yamapi's schedule for the following four days had him so busy that he could barely make time for a couple hours of sleep each night. Jin made sure there was a convenience store bento in his bag every day for lunch; set out a bowl of cereal and a spoon on the table each night so that all Yamapi had to do the next morning was pour in the soy milk and eat; stocked the fridge with a truly shocking number of caffeinated beverages; babysat Pi-chan; took care of the apartment.
Waking up the fourth morning on the couch--the bed last night had been too far away to be more than a pleasant fantasy--to the insistent chirp of an alarm Yamapi didn't think he'd remembered to set, a blanket tucked neatly over him, was too much for his overtired emotions. Yamapi lay there for several long minutes that he couldn't spare, tears leaking slowly out of eyes that burnt with exhaustion, until finally he had to drag himself up and into the shower.
He ran through the rest of the day on autopilot, with only the opportunity for a single twenty minute nap after he'd scarfed down his lunch, leaning his head against Ryo's shoulder while the rest of NewS talked to each other in low murmurs to keep from waking him. Koyama drove him home when they'd finished for the day; Yamapi'd been relying on the subway since the second day, when even walking had started to take an inordinate amount of concentration.
And then he was home, and he didn't have work until eleven the next morning, and the only thing that kept Yamapi from crying again out of sheer relief was that he'd probably set off Koyama, too, who had insisted on going up to Yamapi's apartment with him to make sure he got into bed safely.
Yamapi stripped off his jeans, but didn't bother with his other clothes, crawling into bed half-dressed. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and watched hazily as Koyama closed the blinds, left the room briefly, came back with a glass of water that he set on the bedside table. "Good night," Koyama whispered, brushing a hand along Yamapi's forehead.
Yamapi nodded in reply, and Koyama smiled at him and left. Yamapi dimly felt two small thumps as Pi-chan and Pin jumped up onto the bed with him, curling up by his feet, and then he was asleep.
It was fully dark when Yamapi awoke, and he was quiet as he went out into the living room, in case Jin was in bed already. The television was on, though, the volume turned low, and Jin looked up and smiled when he heard Yamapi's footsteps in the hallway. "Hey," he said. "How're you doing?"
"Fine. What time is it?"
Jin looked at his watch. "A little after nine. I thought for sure you'd sleep longer than that."
Yamapi shrugged. Sometimes his body didn't get the message right away that it was okay to sleep again, and the four hours he'd gotten were enough to make him feel a lot more rested. "Is there dinner?"
"Takeout sushi. It's in the fridge."
Yamapi brought his dinner into the living room so he could sit with Jin while he ate, and Jin was nice enough to change the channel from the English language program he'd been watching to a drama that Yamapi had seen two or three episodes of.
"So, is it bedtime again?" Jin asked when Yamapi had finished eating and was curled up on the sofa, feeling warm and happy and full.
Yamapi shook his head. "I'm up for another hour or two, at least."
"You don't have work until eleven, though, right?"
"Yeah," Yamapi said, grinning again just at the thought.
They ended up playing poker, and Yamapi's brain was still fuzzy enough from sleep deprivation that Jin beat him in forty minutes.
"Forfeit?" Yamapi asked.
They'd stopped playing for money almost before they'd started; neither of them cared enough, and it made the game less fun when losing didn't really matter. Nowadays, their preferred currency was humiliation. The worst forfeit had probably been the time that Yamapi'd had to get down on hands and knees and eat an entire bowl of Pi-chan's dog food. It had tasted surprisingly good, but that wasn't the point.
"Hang on a second," Jin said and went into his room, then emerged a minute or two later with a strappy black dress.
A bit of crossdressing was nothing in comparison to eating dog food, and Yamapi was almost relieved, despite the fact that he hated shaving any part of his body other than his face. And then Jin started bringing out the rest of his costume, and Yamapi's relief gave way to astonishment.
"Where did you even get that?" he asked, staring wide-eyed at the wig in Jin's hands.
"Costume trailer for Yukan Club," Jin said carelessly.
"Jin! Do you realize how much a wig like that costs?"
Jin shrugged. "A lot?"
"Yes, a lot. And the money probably came out of some poor costume girl's salary. You have to--"
"Call them up, say I stole a fancy women's wig, and let them sell the story to the tabloids for twice as much as the wig is worth?" Jin asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Anyway, I already took care of it."
Yamapi frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I told the costuming company that I was smoking in the costume trailer and accidentally burnt one of their wigs. I offered to pay for it, too, but they said not to worry about it. So, there," Jin said smugly.
"Oh." Yamapi blinked a little, surprised at Jin's competent handling of the situation.
"You shouldn't have it in the bathroom because of the steam," Jin said, "so I'll put it in your room for you. I promise not to peek until you're all ready."
Yamapi rolled his eyes. "Because I was really worried about you catching sight of me when I'm only half in drag."
"Well...in that case. Do you want help with your makeup?" Jin asked. "Or I could shave your legs for you?"
"What?" Yamapi said, startled, and then, "Out, right the fuck now," when Jin cracked up with laughter.
"Don't forget your underarms," Jin called through the door that Yamapi slammed behind him.
"I know what I'm doing," Yamapi shouted back. "Go away!"
Yamapi took extra long in the bath on purpose, leaning back and feeling the warm water lap against the newly smooth skin of his legs. He only got out when his fingers were threatening to prune, and he ended up taking the make-up that Jin had dumped on the bathroom counter into his bedroom, where the mirror wasn't fogged with steam.
In addition to the dress, there were black stockings with tiny beaded flowers just above each ankle, panties, a surprisingly modest padded bra, and high-heeled black satin shoes that were actually Yamapi's size. The stockings were the most annoying part of the outfit; once they were on, it was a simple matter to get dressed and bewigged and made up, being sure to use a lighter hand than when he applied make-up for a performance.
Yamapi took a deep breath, smiled at his reflection, and opened the door, feeling a bit of trepidation at the fact that he hadn't thought to pocket Jin's cellphone, and he really didn't want there to be any record of this event.
"This good enough for you?" he asked over the sound of the television--louder now that Jin wasn't trying to let him sleep--and Jin turned to look at him with eyes that went impossibly wide when he caught sight of Yamapi. There was a long silence. Yamapi thought about trying another smile, but wasn't sure he'd manage another one that looked as good as when he'd been alone in his room, especially when Jin got up to take a closer look.
"You make a really pretty girl, Pi," Jin said finally, and Yamapi stupidly felt himself blush.
"So do you," he retorted.
Jin just grinned. "Yeah, I know."
Yamapi stared at him a moment, then laughed.
"Oh, hey! We should take a picture to send Takki," Jin said. "His little girl's all grown up."
"I should punch you in the head," Yamapi suggested pleasantly. "A lot."
"Aw, don't be like that." Jin brushed a lock of fake hair back and tucked it behind Yamapi's ear.
Yamapi shivered a little at the soft touch, and then Jin leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Yamapi's.
The kiss didn't last more than a few seconds, but it was the first time that they'd kissed each other sober--and only the fifth or sixth time that they'd kissed each other ever--and Yamapi froze in shock.
Jin pulled away, looked at Yamapi's stunned face, and gave him a sheepish smile. "It's okay, right?"
Yamapi nodded automatically, even as his mind was whirling, because he knew that smile. Jin used it purposefully when he'd done something stupid and wanted to make himself look cute and harmless, and unconsciously when he was genuinely embarrassed or uncertain about something, and Yamapi had always been able to tell before which was which. That he couldn't now was almost more disconcerting than the fact that Jin had decided to kiss him at eleven p.m. when neither of them had had so much as a beer the entire evening, and while Yamapi was standing in their living room in full drag.
"It's after midnight. You should get to bed," Jin said, and Yamapi nodded again.
"Thanks for dinner. I'll cook tomorrow night," he said, surprised at how very normal he sounded, and how Jin sounded the same when he wished him good night.
Yamapi washed his face and put the clothes and wig back into Jin's room, almost annoyed at how much effort the forfeit had been for so little result. Unless the kiss counted as a result, in which case... And then Yamapi smacked himself lightly on the head and told himself to stop being an idiot and go to bed.
Despite his exhaustion, he was still awake when the door opened quietly and a small arrow of light fell into his room from the hallway.
"Pi?" Jin whispered.
"Can I..." He didn't finish his sentence, but took a few steps into Yamapi's room, until finally Yamapi got it.
"Um. Sure." Yamapi pulled the covers back, and Jin finished crossing the room and climbed into bed with him. Yamapi could hear the click of Pin's nails on the floor, before he joined them on the bed, too.
"Thanks," Jin whispered.
Yamapi turned to look at him, the shadowy outline of his face, the dark gleam of his eyes in the dim light seeping around the edges of the blinds. Yamapi's heart was pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest. He wondered if Jin was going to kiss him again, or even do some of the other things that they did sometimes after a few too many drinks.
There was a rustle of fabric as Jin reached towards him, and the tension in Yamapi's stomach became even more painful, but all Jin did was wrap one arm around Yamapi's waist and cuddle closer. Almost unthinkingly, Yamapi brought his right hand up to stroke Jin's back through the soft flannel of his pajamas. "Good night," he said, hearing his voice come out quiet and uncertain.
"Mmm. Night," Jin mumbled, already halfway asleep, and a few minutes later, Yamapi heard his breathing slow and even out.
Yamapi woke to the smell of something burning. "Jin?" he called sleepily, unwilling to expend the effort to panic if there wasn't a real need for it.
"Everything's fine," Jin shouted back. It wasn't exactly the most persuasive statement ever, but at least it seemed that Jin hadn't set himself on fire, so Yamapi pulled the covers over his head to shut out the morning sun and went back to sleep.
A gentle nudge at his lower back woke him a second time, and Yamapi emerged from his cocoon to find Jin sitting on the bed beside him and poking him with one socked foot. He had two plates of French toast in his hands, swimming in maple syrup, and he handed one of them to Yamapi. "Juice is over there," he said, nodding at a glass of orange juice on Yamapi's bedside table.
"These look really good," Yamapi said, somewhat surprised.
Jin grinned self-consciously. "I gave the messed-up ones to Pin and Pi-chan."
"You're going to make my dog fat," Yamapi said without any heat.
"Pin hasn't gotten fat yet," Jin said, unconcerned. "And he's eaten a lot of my cooking mistakes."
By then, Yamapi had taken his first bite of French toast, and any reply he might have made was inconsequential when he could instead enjoy perfectly golden-brown, buttery and sweet French toast and tell Jin exactly how delicious it was.
Jin only shrugged in response to the compliment and concentrated on his own breakfast. After they'd finished eating, Yamapi took their plates to the kitchen sink to do the washing up. When his hands were deep in soapy water, Jin came up behind him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and Yamapi startled a little.
Jin didn't smile this time when Yamapi stared at him, just looked back with clear, brown eyes that gave away nothing.
"Okay," Yamapi said finally, and kissed Jin's soft cheek, right at the corner of his mouth.
Jin grinned. "I've gotta go to work now. Can you give me a ride home tonight?"
"Yeah, no problem."
"Sweet. See you later."
"Later," Yamapi echoed, watching Jin bounce out of the room, and then he nodded to himself and finished the washing up.