But Kazuya caught on quickly once his feet slipped against the tile underfoot. “Jin, what’re you-?”
“Nothing, chill,” Jin insisted with a winsome smile and jerked harder, dragging him closer - while the younger began to panic, dropping the tablespoon he had in hand, because huh?
“Wai- wha- stop-,” he demanded - twisting his hand so far forward it had to have hurt- “Jin, stop it,” - as he tried digging his nails into Jin’s own wrist, but to no avail as the elder had dragged him over close enough to grab his other flailing wrist while he hopped off the counter and, “Mh!” - Kazuya gasped, eyes popping as he was slammed backwards and suddenly, waist meeting painfully with a counter edge far too sharp, having been rammed in far too fast and successfully stunning him out of his mind for a minute as a familiar blast of pain resonated with the remnants of their healing back wounds - “JI-!” he coughed.
And Jin would’ve felt it too, which explained the grimace and the wispy apology - but not to the same extent, which explained him gripping tight at Kazuya’s sides and lifting him up like a child, to seat him against the counter he’d fallen back against, muttering a quiet, “you’re eating too little, again,” somewhere along the way.
‘Tsk-!’ the accused would’ve snarled had the man not made a point of banging the back of his head against the cabinets just above the counter and sending him reeling on a dizzy spell, albeit accidentally.
“Ah, shit - brain damage?” Jin winced.
And Kazuya - though woozy and aching now - was very much tempted to kick in his balls right then.
“You piece of-…mmmh,” he trailed off whining and shaking his head, deciding the asshole wasn’t worth it and rubbing the back of his ringing skull and leaving Jin to whatever fraternity-esque nonsense he was up to for exactly five seconds.
Before he made sense of the fresh air hitting his legs, that was.
After which, he stood for the nonsense no more.
“Heh-?” he cringed - shivered instinctively and blinked twice, glanced down and stared blankly at where his track pants were supposed to be. Then turned up, eyes now finding where those same pants currently were - falling from Jin’s left hand - and watched then, as that same hand, allied with the elder's free hand now came down, gathered up his legs, then spread them ope - “WAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTT
“W-W-WAIT! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" his voice broke wildly over a strange set of octaves as he tried to make up his mind between slamming fists into Jin's chest or grabbing onto his shirt before he lost balance-, "what’re you, drunk?! High?! - Did Tetsuyama drug you?! JIN-!” He flailed wildly, “WHAT’RE YOU DOING-?!” - he ultimately ended up grabbing for the man - hands scrambling for frantic purchase against Jin’s shirt as he struggled at pushing him away while pulling himself back and getting nowhere with the situation as he tried fruitlessly to free himself - “wait, wait, waitwaitwait JinJINJIN JIN - Koki has a whole list of hookers on his phone justaskhimtogetyouonethat’llkeephermouth
“What.” He opted for sounding homicidal instead, “for the love of God are you even - owwwowowowowwww,” he broke off, hissing irritably when the elder lifted his left leg up and out at an angle a tad too wide for him, “dude, you’re going to pull a fucking muscle - quit it already-,” he whimpered now, because shit, his legs were sore from cardio and dammit, Jin was kind of sort of killing him - and fuckfuckfuck, he hadn’t had sex in months ever since the bombing and this was ever so slightly, kind of, but not exactly a tiny tiny tiny bit arousing - plus he was a guy, with issues, and really no one could blame him -
- It didn’t go any further than his knee - Jin noted, selectively oblivious to the tantrum his roommate was throwing. The tattoo - Kei’s tattoo, his mark licked into the soft hollow just under his knee and ended there. The scarlet ink stayed within the vicinity of Kazuya’s thighs - an array of diamonds littered artistically down the inside of it with a single, tribalistic themed band of red and lace wrapping in a ring around the same thigh - cleverly inked in where no one could see it unless he wore hot pants and walked like a crab or - Jin glanced away - someone spread his legs for him; Suzuha’s ‘sluttishly’ bullshit description - though crude - hit the mark, personally, he couldn’t think of any better explanation.
Boyfriend or not, Kei had put the mark where only people in his supposed position would be able to see it, it was why Jin had seen it in the first place and he supposed this was what she’d meant when she’d said Kazuya had belonged to The King once.
Belong - that was an irritating word.
“Hm…,” - some mutated facet of a badly cut groan reverberated through his sternum.
“What now?” Kazuya groaned, like he was reproving his dog.
“You know you told me-,” Jin surprised himself. He’d thought the words for a retort would never come to him, but they had; loyal as ever. Who would’ve thunk.
“Told you what?” Kazuya offered him all of three measly seconds to answer before turning down, “what’re you even doing anyway-?”
“You were hanging around Hyde-senpai when you got this, why?”
“I tell that to EVERYONE,” Kazuya wrinkled his nose, “why does that even matter now? Tetsuyama probably told you it’s Kei’s, didn’t she…,” - he paused.
It struck him then, and rather - quite very suddenly - that, he’d never actually told Jin about his tattoo.
Like forget the Hyde lie, forget that Jin probably knew it was Kei labeling his product - thank you very much talkative Underground info broker - why did Jin know about his ‘Hyde-senpai’s tattoo’ bullshit when he hadn’t even told it to him? - Because no. As far as the only ten civil conversations between them went, none of them had been about this and Kazuya had never actually told him much about his uncharacteristic tattoo. Not that he remembered doing so anyway.
To most people who asked, they’d get some bullshit answer - something to the effect of, he’d gotten the thing under Hideto’s influence - which, Hyde didn’t give a damn, really. He was curious as to why Kazuya told people that, but he just sort of left his kouhai to his nonsense so long it bothered him none - thing was, Kazuya had never told Jin this, not straight to his face so, - “Why?”
“Why what?” - Kazuya was distracted now, effectively out of this certain frame of reality as he glared irritably at nothing in particular because - this was kind of bugging him now.
“Why’d you tell me you got that tattoo with Hyde-senpai?”
“I just told you-.”
“And I’m asking you why-.”
“Because people buy the bull, he has tattoos too, you kn—!” - Oh, wait a second.
Kazuya had turned up to yell that in Jin’s face just then, and just as he did a sudden possibility hit him - albeit a shitty possibility, but a credible one all the same.
He was a bad drinker, wasn't he? Ohhhhh, if there was one thing even YUYA would resort to teasing him relentlessly about - it was his drinking, because God KNEW he got stupid when he drank.
He got stupid, then tended to FORGET said stupid things when he got very seriously trashed - and if JIN had ASKED about his tattoo during any one of those godforsaken times, and he’d FORGOTTEN…
“…Oh…,” he mumbled softly when the credibility of this possibility suddenly increased tenfold. “O…h,” - fingers falling over his mouth now as he just then came to terms with the fact that the only time he’d gotten so significantly drunk as to get stupid enough AND forget an entire night, would’ve had to been the night of New Year’s at Johnny’s party and - ohhhhhshiitttttttt.
Coincidentally, he’d gotten weird with a guy around then.
And Coincidentally - Kei had placed his tattoo in a place where people would only see if they either stuck their nose into his terribly personal business, or got him to spread his legs.
Seeing as how Jin, didn't truly give a rat's ass about his terribly personal business, unless it involved him - and - and - and that -….that…
Coincidentally, Kazuya didn’t know who he’d gotten weird with that night - and that -.
Coincidentally, Jin had been lying when he’d been interrogated on the subject the next morning — and -.
As Kazuya only took most of his baths early in the morning or late at night because his work ended at odd hours like that, Jin would’ve seen the tattoo, yes - but would’ve never had enough time to ask about it - unless, he’d spread his legs and purposefully so - and for long enough.
Which, yes - he had, during the Anan shoot - but he’d never asked about it - hell, he hadn’t even been surprised by the tattoo during that shoot, meaning…
Kazuya slowly turned away, fingers tapping out the guitar notes to some song against his lips as he came to the only possible conclusion that included him having told Jin about his Hyde tattoo bullshit, and conveniently forgetting that he’d told him so — like maybe, just maybe - Jin, the perpetual bastard, had asked him about his tattoo that night - the tattoo he’d seen in all its significant detail after he’d possibly gotten weird with, with…with—
—He’d slept with Jin hadn’t he?
That night? On New Year’s eve?
Come to think of it, why had he never considered asking Johnny for the security footage of their room for that night? He could’ve just watched the damn thing and…and - wow.
Wooooowww. He'd actually LIKED the sex that night.
He glanced down, flinching slightly as he watched the elder - slightly crouched the way he was, studying Kei’s tattoo, rubbing his thumb slowly over the lines and tracing them down between his legs before murmuring something.
“What…?” Kazuya asked softly.
And the elder smoothed a thumb over the pattern of the red tattoo laden with diamonds.
“Blood diamonds,” he repeated what the younger hadn’t heard, and slid his hand a tiny bit around Kazuya’s thigh, moving his thumb to stroke over the inside of it, where the skin was soft and pliable - where the tribalesque diamond pattern tapered off into a band that circled his the width of his leg - “Kei’s insignia,” he concluded and turned up, surprised to find Kazuya staring at him, slightly flushed.
He frowned, just then realizing that the younger had quit attempting to beat the shit out of him - a while ago, at that. “What?”
“Huh?” Kazuya asked back stupidly.
“What ‘huh’?” the elder made a face back, leaning in to press his forehead against the younger’s to check his temperature, “you catching another fever or something? Your face is all —— hm,” he pulled back with a shrug when Kazuya’s temp felt about the same as his, and so he let him be. Dropping his leg instead, he lifted his hands to catch the younger’s jaw and turn his face as far against the cabinets as it would go before combing back his hair at the nape of his neck.
Kazuya let him, still coming to terms with the fact that the first time he and Jin had finally slept together was when he’d been piss drunk.
“Mmmh,” he groaned softly, the only evidence of him violently berating himself to hellish lengths in his head.
Jin ignored him, fingers smoothing intently over his Kim Jaejoong tattoo instead.
Rosy thing that it was, it only made sense as Kai’s sigil now - though Jae’s name threw the interpretation off. As in, if this was Kai being territorial, what use was any mark of his if he stuck a random kpop idol’s name into it, like “whhyyyy’s Jae’s name on you?”
“It was a thing,” Kazuya muttered back belatedly, realizing he'd been asked something only a few seconds later - and Jin frowned at the vague answer.
“Hah?” he wrinkled his nose, “what thing? Since when is getting Jae’s name tattooed on you a thing-?”
“Tsk! It’s a thing - was a thing, I don’t know - let off already, dammit,” Kazuya swatted irritably at him hands, managing to swing his legs out hard enough to land a kick and get the elder wincing hard. “What’re you doing anyway? Getting all touchy like that - you’ll give Kou the wrong idea if he walks in here, you know? How’re you going to explain something like that to Kuroki-?”
“Dude, we literally fucked each other for Anan,” Jin groaned, rubbing his thigh where the younger had kicked him, “people already have the wrong idea, plus Meisa - the bitch - she’s ships us together like its religion - MF!” he huffed when his roommate slammed another kick into his opposite thigh, before turning away to brood by his lonesome.
“Today,” he started again after a minute of watching the elder stumble around in a fit of whines and tines. “You went to Ishiyama.”
“So?” Jin sank back against the island edge finally, massaging the pain out of dully aching legs.
Kazuya, from where he’d propped his left arm up on the tattooed leg he’d pulled up against his chest, tilted his head. He studied the latter in silence for a moment before asking, accusing, quietly, “why didn’t you take the gun I gave you?”
“And shoot who?!” Jin huffed incredulously, “Suzu might be some big deal in the mafioso, sure - but she’s still my friend, I would never-!”
“What if she’d attacked you?”
“She wouldn’t have,” Jin snapped stubbornly, though he knew he doubted that somewhere at the back of his head.
“And if she had?” Kazuya propped his chin up on his folded arm, “what if someone else attacked you? For your money? Your looks? Gangbangers? Mercenaries? Kai?”
“Kazu - that’s my hometown,” Jin brushed him off, dragging a hand across his face because - yes, he was kind of right. He probably should’ve just taken the damn gun, but - “no one would’ve just attacked Akanishi Rokka’s kid out’ve the blue unless they'd wanted to deal with Inawaga-kai, I mean - come on,” - and for a second there, he realized that logic in that - the logic that actually kind of made sense - he also realized he’d just caught the younger off guard - if dilating irises were anything to go by.
“Oh, right - your father’s Inagawa’s consigliere too…,” he mumbled within a second of registering it, eyes trekking somewhere off to the side as he no doubt, dredged up some dusty old identity file Tatsuya had imprinted into his head. And for a while after that, they let each other be - a weird sort of still settling between them as they listened to the aimless hacking and hammering of Kou at work just outside their kitchen.
About seven minutes of them listening in on that passed until Jin sighed and figured that he might as well just go lie in bed and stare at the ceiling if the alternative was staring at his currently prickly roommate - “I’ll go pack for Okinawa-,” he started, "Ossan, wants us up when tomor - holy SHIT-!!" he squeaked when (and with no purpose whatsoever) Kazuya's leg suddenly flew out in front of him, aimed and speedily racing for the general vicinity of his dick - and so he did the only thing natural, and shot off to the side - closer to counter his attacker sat atop, and hissing when his hip took the brunt force of the kick.
"The FUCK - was that for, dammit-?" he immediately started, making to inch away from the younger - only to gag on a cough when said younger abruptly whipped a hand out to slam it into the center of his chest, stunning him still for the exact amount of time it took for Kauzya to tilt his head and lean in close.
Punishment? Was the only thing he demanded frantically of himself as he watched; watched as the brunette - instead of moving that extra inch in - held his own eyes for a long minute like he was searching for something.
That it took all of ninety-some seconds for Jin to realize he was just getting in his face and staring and nothing else, was surprising enough in itself - but by the time he got to attributing this - Kazuya getting all up in his personal space - as retribution for what he’d just done earlier, lifting him up onto the counter and pushing his legs open the way he had - it was a tad too late, and soft lips had already found his, bitten and freshly bruised as they were from whatever nervous ticks of Kazuya’s they’d been subjected to during the last few days of him signing this, arranging that, calling her, and yelling at him over their first reunion concert.
And it wasn’t a revelation; no epiphany, no korean music to make the moment just that much more dramatic - they kissed. And it was as simple as that - Kazuya’s mouth sliding open, no coax of any kind needed as he straightened, beating his spine into mannequin-esque curvature as he was guided himself up against his roommate, scooting closer to the counter edge - legs, warm and soft as they were, and sliding easily against the slippery polyester of Jin’s track pants-
Oh, Jin, Jin, Jin. He wanted to question this - wanted to question the shit out of this, the shit out of him - him getting so close to KEI’S GEISHA without having his damn head lopped off because, because, oh because-
“Hm-,” Kazuya breathed, fingers of his one free hand curling over the countertop he was sat on, another set of fingers curling lightly into the collar of Jin’s undershirt.
—Fuccck. This was so very wrongly mesmerizing.
And Jin tried to ignore himself thinking so, tried ignore that his hands were moving - his own traitorous hands, twitching though they were - but steadily creeping up onto the marble top of the counter - nails scraping hesitantly against it’s smoothness as he gripped the edges of the counter as well - “what’re you doing?” - he threw in abruptly, given the three seconds it took for Kazuya to pull away for a bit.
“Not exactly sure,” was his muttered reply, “just trying something-,” - happened to be his only clarification before his bandmate leaned in again, this time grabbing the counter edge with both hands and hunching his shoulder as he tilted his head, shut his eyes and pulled another kiss out of Jin - one that he executed alluringly enough to earn a response from, albeit a hesitant, confused response.
And it surprised him - Kazuya - to say the least, but he wasn’t paying much attention to Jin himself, so much so as he was to the sensations this general stupidity pulled from him, because for all the hate and disdain he claimed he was worth, for all the denial he muddled around in, for all the soothing hazes amnesiac drinking spells brought him - he couldn’t say that he was completely foreign to the feel of Jin. Not that he’d ever been, considering Anan and their past, but…this was different.
And so, fingers afloat and fluttering from they were lifting off the counter to find man’s shirt, mind muttering, sight shuttering. He remembered. Oh, he remembered - or at least, he felt like he was remembering; because he felt… like déjà vu, felt like the taste on his tongue was trying to tell him something, like forgotten lyrics of a song whose melody he’d nonetheless memorized. Felt like sand, steadily slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he held them together; and an eclipse trying to figure it’s way out of a darkness of it’s own making.
He felt like he was found, but on a placeless cloud; like he was scratching the surface of an answer - looking through a glass that was becoming more clear than it was opaque, but still blurry. He felt like he was close to something that wasn’t sexual, and all intellectual. He felt Jin’s lips, hands that weren’t his, supporting him tenderly and with familiar care. He felt like processes and repetitions; recognition and familiarity - the nicks in this man’s rough fingers, the scratch of peeled skin against the vulnerable, softness inside his thighs. He felt like memories. He felt wet, and attractive; and like he was treading the surface of a glaringly obvious key.
He felt Jin, suddenly hungry for stupid things now. Forbidden things - because Jin was Jin, and in being so he was terribly easy to entice; given the little tricks about Jin he knew - given their past, their past month, their past decade, the task was all the more easier - and had this not been a utilitarian caress on Kazuya’s part, Kazuya would’ve very well let nature run its course, haters or not.
Instead, he focused on himself now. How he felt, how this made him feel. He felt cold and hot, blackeningly white and sleepily awake. Hairs of memory and tendrils of reminiscence drew forth in the wake of his bandmate’s free fingers cramping up near his hips where he was being held and handled with a raw gentleness that probably wouldn’t last much longer - trying so very hard and failing at not outright grabbing him - “haaa~,” Kazuya pulled his legs up tighter around Jin as wet heat found his neck. The sensitive little patches on it - accurately caught and teased.
“Jin…?” he breathed brokenly, shifting agreeably so that when the elder finally did grab his hips, it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for either of them.
“Hn?” Jin asked back against his skin, while Kazuya shivered and shifted some more.
Ease - went his spine; sway - went his hips against the counter. “We’ve done this,” he gasped, he twitched reflexively against ticklish lips wetting his neck, “hmnh~ we’ve done this - Jin…, we’ve done this-,” he whispered harshly, head lolling back as the man canted up his hips, fingers easily guiding him to arch forward, strain his healing spine to squeeze himself into his full fledged erection.
“When have we done this…?” Kazuya continued quietly, “— I’ve never let you get this far, Jin-ha, when have we done this—?” — needless to say, he was trying to get his roommate to confess, though-
“Anan, doofus,” was all Jin deigned to reply him with.
And Kazuya, though pleasured - grew irritated. “Not that-,” he started as he brought his head back, making to pull away from him - except - “I gootttt it, shaddup already,” Jin interrupted easily as he kissed him twice - quickly - before he landed a slower third kiss, mouth open this time - “yeah, but-,” Kazuya started frowning.
“Mmmm-hm,” Jin nodded subtly, sealing his mouth shut and sucking lightly at his lower lip, glancing down to catch the younger’s eyes as he did.
The younger who watched back, his own eyes slightly out of focus as he pulled his lip from captivity, licking it the way he always did and biting in what had to be a trick of seduction because Jin didn’t remember lip-biting to be one of Kazuya’s immediate nervous ticks. And so he grinned.
“Is this how you shut Kuroki up?” he mumbled after a second of checking if his lip was swollen before turning higher up.
“Pfft, no,” Jin snorted and ducked to lean forward juuuuuust so.
“Then how?” Kazuya asked back quietly, sitting up, tilting slightly and opening his own mouth this time as his palms slid slowly up against the fabric covering the elder’s shoulders, fingers tight as they crumpled into the white fabric and pulled.
“You really don’t want to know,” Jin replied, just as muted as he went with it, settling his own mouth against the latter’s.
“Hm~hn?” he was asked back.
“No,” Jin insisted as he pulled back and turned the other way, “you really don’t, babe - mhm,” - he kissed him again. This time, for much longer; until Kazuya’s legs were tight around his waist again, fingers strewn and hewn through his locks, and body, so balanced against his own and so very perfectly that either of them would fall if they parted too suddenly; until his toes were curling in, and the the pull on his hair became frantic; until Kazuya’s mind was visibly getting wrecked, and until Jin was all of 110% sure any and all alternative motives of his had disappeared. POOF! Vanished into thin air - this he made sure of before slipping his thumbs under the rim of the younger’s undershirt and massaging circles into the hollows of hips.
“Hn-!” Kazuya jumped and immediately pulled away, saliva stretching thin between their glossy lips - panting and wincing through gritted teeth, a small tweak worrying at his brow - “Jin-.”
Because Jin, you see, Jin had been watching him for long enough, had been around when certain things had been imprinted into his head at a terribly tender young age, had been there when he’d seen certain bastards do the right and wrong things to Kazuya - and one of those few right things had been the sensitive, little patch of skin a little higher up on the curve of Kazuya’s right hipbone. And so if one touched that certain place just so, tilted his waist up by those few three degrees, one was winning at this game - because Kazuya reacted.
And just as he did, Jin grinned.
He was terribly dastard in some aspects, he knew - Kazuya knew; even went with it as the elder leaned back, nuzzled him slowly as he distracted the younger from the terribly subtle action that was Jin pressing their hips together, twisting so that when Kazuya finally felt him - he turned a horribly beautiful hue of scarlet when he felt Jin - big and ready and yes - through three layers of pointless cloth.
And Jin’s grin stretched stupidly as he leaned down, catching him by the mouth quickly before Kazuya could look down and away and - “waiiiiit-,” he hummed softly. And didn’t do much more than massage before the younger responded, and responded right.
Before long, the two of them were a complete, frenzied mess and - “God, I so do NOT hate you, you-” Jin gasped somewhere in between what they were later going to refer to as ‘that time that never happened,’ “piece of sexy damn shit-!” he ended snarling, while Kazuya sank into awkward, broken and breathless laughs.
“Yeah - you do,” he panted back as the elder massaged his hips with overbearing want.
“No fucking way in actual hell,” Jin whispered harshly, mouth pressing back to Kazuya’s; again and again, over and over until the younger’s head lolled against his shoulder, truly breathless and eyes hooded as he stared up at the man in front of him with a certain questioning fondness, while that man stared back aimlessly and pondered at the back of his head if he should just forget all his life problems and just get laid tonight.
His roommate was willing enough as it was and if they threw Kou out for a while to go bother Ossan about his ‘no replace’ policy - they could fit in about an hour of…
Jin sighed. He kissed Kazuya again. This time slowly.
Those problems - his life problems - would still be around when they got up tomorrow morning at that ridiculous hour Johnny expected them to be up at. He could put off whatever he could now and hope for the best - but the fact of the matter was that they'd catch up, those life problems of his; that Kazuya and Tatsuya were completely screwing with his head, as was Kazuya’s older brother - both of them actually - and that Yamapi, the mere thought of him - was doing worse.
Jin put off another hefty sigh. Turned, tilted - kissed the younger again, slowly, softly, innocently.
Again and again - sweetly and enticingly enough until Kazuya was literally dozing and falling asleep in his arms.
“Hey…,” he called softly once he was sure the man was harmless as a bunny rabbit.
“Hmm?” Kazuya hummed back.
“About…,” Jin kissed him quick, another distraction, “…Yamapi?”
“Hm?” the younger continued, mouth busy.
Jin pulled back, pressed his forehead against the brunette’s and whispered, calmly as he could manage, “what did you do to him?”
“Hm?” closed hazel eyes flicked reluctantly, “do to who?”
“Yamapi?” Jin smiled, because he knew very well that it would throw him off.
And it did, because Kazuya was blinking now, confused.
“Ha…?” he frowned emptily, unfocused and concentrated on other things.
“Yamapiiii~,” repeated Jin who was extraordinarily focused considering those other things; those other things that were happening then. And there, and now - and why? - Kazuya nearly whined. “Yamapi. You did something to him, you know?" Jin continued smiling, and rocked them together subtly to a tuneless melody as he held the younger, "what did you do to him?”
But he couldn’t. Kazuya could neither whine nor focus - not when Jin was asking this one, terribly frightful fact of him - “Pi?” he whispered back, and blinked a few times, pushing his hands against Jin’s chest as he made to lift his head off it. “Wha-?” he shook his head, “nothing, what’re you talking about?” - and Jin - goddammit, though playful, was serious. Genuinely so, and him not being in the same state caught him off guard - because this wasn't how it was supposed to be, no, not at all - rather the other way round -- he didn’t like it - didn't like that Jin was - “ha!”